Floki was a tennage boy with an cruel faith, from the day he was born he was colectively abused by his village.
The masses feed him only the amount to keep him alive with an exact precision. Have they done this even before our boy?
The reasons were never said to the boy, it was all so meaningless for him but the villagers made sure he never even knew what suicide is. In order to him alive for as long as possible.
Daily our poor Floki waas served his dose of punishment, every day, at the same time, the same way as always, it was a mondain thing.
Public humiliation, the masses threw vegetables, fruits, anything and everything they could find at him. But our boy felt a sense of comfort in the act, they all seem to enjoy so much torturing him, in their wicked smiles he found peace.
One day when the boy was beeing humiliated he noticed someone buying apples to throw at him. He always thought about money, he saw that people would do anything for it. He who has more capital will overpower the one with less.
An idea struck him, Floki faked being scared of apples, that apples hurt him more for some reason. And the people bit it, they bought all the apples, so many that it created a sortage of them in one day! But they heaven't realized it.
After night fell over the village and the masses abandoned the boy alone, he started colecting mountain of apples that have bruised his body one by one, then he struck a deal with a merchant from another place to come and sell the apples when he is being punished and he will get 30% of all the profits.
What was said was also done, the boy did the show, the people bought the apples and their business was thriving. It has worked for months, the boy's skin hardened in the procces and he got extremly rich without anyone knowing. Until one day a so called Mariana wanted to bake an apple pie but could not find any apples.
The boy out of greed has monopolized all the apples trought the merchant. Mariana realized the merchant might be at fault and spread the word, and the word enraged the massses that were ready to burn the merchant at stake. When the merchant was faced with death he quickly like a coward enlightened the masses on who was the mastermind.
The villagers felt an sense of existential terror, one with the root in a long passed past. A past they heaven't experienced but their great great great great great great great grandparent did.
A past of their village's opression by an evil lord, one so evil that his entire future bloodline will have to pay for his sins. Or that's what they have been thought.
The revolutionary fever to overthrow a regime that has not even seen the light of day yet has awakened in the masses.
Dommed be the one that stands in their way for their means do not need to be justified nor the ends to anyone, not even themselves.
The poor's boy little barack he called home was set on fire and he died there burning with all his CAPITAL like a rat.
Days, weeks, months, years passed but things were not better, without a common enemy, the masses that were used to hatred, had no unifying goal but to eachother. "May my neighbour die so I can steal his goat".
The days kept passing by until the young was no more and the old was too tired to fight eachother in that little village
wow this is how little two pages are? dawn ,anyways I hope you enjoyed my bad writting skills