Humanity On Trial

We were asked to give our disquisition on humanity. So here it is. This shall be brief. It’s not the first time we’ve been asked about our position on the creation of man. Our stance was unanimous. We still think they’re hostile. Belligerent. They were a primitive race light years ago. Racing against the sands of time to evolve. To prosper. To adapt in a world that’s truly fitter without them. And now, they have perished. They are forgotten. Their memory has long been woven into the fabrics of space and time. This is an assessment of their reign as a dominant species on Earth. 

During the times of fire and stone, humans were scarce in numbers. They coexisted with the rest of Earth’s inhabitants because they had to. Once their numbers started increasing, so did their insatiable appetite for war. For oppression. Let me ask this, has their appetite seized ever since? Unfortunately, the answer is no. They have continued their unfathomable blood shed until the very end. It is unquestionably dreary. We had wished they achieved self-consciousness, but it was far reached. And the ones who did achieve it were treated defectively. As though they were the anomaly. Sad, indeed. 

Nevertheless, there has been incidents of rectitude. Virtue, and benevolence. We will not deny those. Humans are eccentric––in their own way. They are capable of obtaining wisdom. But they are very poor at sharing it. They can feign cruelty, but behind it nestles fragility. These traits have plagued us. They can be selfish. Yet they can be very kind to one another. There is no denying that at times humans thoroughly surprised us. A few occurrences of manifold are worthy of mentioning. It involves their invaluable acts of kindness. They have shown great mercy towards wildlife, towards the trees and towards the land. They have also shown bountiful charity towards their own kind. To the needy, to the homeless and to the ill. But alas, the senseless acts of violence surpassed all good. The killing. The barbarity. We say this with a heavy heart. We couldn’t bear to watch. 

There is of course the story of Henri the Brute. He was a man of many names, but we chose this one in the purpose of this disquisition. He lived at the time of Atlantis. A time when ancient nations were at their peaked glory. A time when beasts and dragons freely roamed Upper Earth. He was a man of great skill and deception. He had killed many of his kind. Too many to count. But when we peered into his heart, we only found remorse. We found penitence. It was a surprise to us all. How can slaughter and compassion come hand in hand? One day, he was riding back to Toria after enduring a long battle. He chanced upon a little girl. She was alone. Bare foot and out of sorts. Henri steered the reigns of his horse and trotted closer. Curiosity getting the best of him. 

“What brings you to the outskirts of my village, little girl? All alone. Are you waiting for someone?” 

The girl looked up but said nothing.

“What’s the matter? I asked you a question.” 

“I’m waiting for Lord Henri the Brute.”

Henri cocked an eyebrow at the little girl. “I am him. What is it you need?”

“I come with tidings. I’m afraid it’s not good.” 

“Tidings? From my army in the South?”

“No.” said the girl, almost instantly. “Tidings from the underworld. I’m afraid your people’s time has come, Henri the Brute. Toria will perish.”

Henri’s heart battered behind his chest. “My village will perish. By whom?”

“The armies of Goltic will arrive at dawn. You have no time to prepare for what’s coming. Their armies are massive. No man, child or kine will be spared.” 

Henri’s fright turned to anger. “This is madness. The people of my village have done nothing wrong. They’re not like me. I’m a bloodless warrior, they’re nothing but credulous farmers and fishermen. There must be a way to turn this around. There’s still time!”

“It is what it is. There is no coming back from it. Your village will perish tomorrow.” 

He stared at her. Round-eyed, yet steadfast. “No.” He demanded. “There has to be something I can do.”

The girl was quiet for a single moment. Then she smirked. “There is but one thing. The masters of the underworld are willing to exchange the people’s souls for yours. You have killed a great deal. Your soul is worth a thousand so far. Give us your soul instead, and Toria will be spared.” 

Henri was at a crossroads. The man who’d killed a thousand was now concerned with the lives of mere hundreds. There was surely no way he’d agree to this trade. But as we said earlier, humans continue to surprise us. Henri agreed. His village was spared, and his soul was traded in their place. It was an act of pure kindness. Despite his bloodstained past. 

So, this remains our question. Was Henri’s sacrifice enough to tip the scales in humanity’s favor? Was it enough to counterbalance the defilement they unleashed upon their planet, their biosphere? Was it enough to atone for their butchery, their carnage? As generous as it was, we’re afraid it is not enough. Let us remind you, oh Great Divine, of the tales of Picard Magnus. A man so cruel, he’d forgotten what it was that made him human. He liberated the offender and prosecuted the victim. Massacre was but a sport to him. A ruler that bathed in the blood of children. Drank to the collapse of democracy and cheered the decapitation of justice. 

When his army burned down the flourishing city of Lanceud, a squire came running to his side.  

“Lord, the people in this church are said to be believers of God. Shall we not spare them?” 

Picard, tugging his lips in an ugly snarl, said, “No, kill them all. Their God will recognize his own.”

As a conclusion, we believe that humans have done far more wrongdoing than they have fairness. They have done far more aggression than they have clemency. We regret to inform you, oh Great Divine, that humankind, as a species, has failed. We say this with a hefty heart. For we know how much you cherished their existence. You had considerable plans for them. But they have failed you. They have failed us all. 

It’s been long due that we offer our disquisition. We have assessed many, no endless of worldly and unworldly beings. Ancient civilizations. Peoples. None has come to compare to what humans have done. The betrayals. The genocides. The wars. The secrets. It’s haunted us for epochs. Now, we are unfettered to speak our peace. We only wish our word comes with admission.  

Signed and agreed upon, 

The Angels of Death.