The Kingdom of Maxima

The Kingdom of Maxima

The fish eggs were never sparked with life. The bird egg was thin and unprotective. The deer’s womb was tainted, and the fawn, dead before birth. The children of men were neither born nor cared for. And when they were born, their hands hung down. Man, as the pinnacle of life fell for a lie that told him he was not life, and so he should kill. Man, as the meeting of the divine, fell for a lie that said there was no divine and killed his soul. In the stead of the dual nature of man was a lie that he was a “human;” this new entity he made up. These new humans were rational, technological, and progressive. In doing so, he poisoned the body, tainted the mind, and murdered his own soul. Voices arose in defense of life, of divine, of man, but those voices couldn’t shout over the proselytizing of a sacriligious religion and the cult of the secret lie. A few lesser fools sought to conserve the systems that kept this society of death alive. The more common and controlling ideology in defiance to manifest holiness shouted “more, more!” The speed of life’s death was insufficient to their bloodthirsty taste. The soulless belly can consume the world and have nothing to savor. One voice shouted loudest. One pair of eyes saw the new lie. One singular effort could be traced back to a man who bended the knee to fate. He was animal. He was godly. He was his walking invitation for the rest of the human race. He saw the end of his and all kinds who were being pushed toward an abyss. He reasoned, studied, and deliberated. Following contemporary models of the world and ancient wisdom, he sought to figure out how to stop the lie. He eventually tracked such fiendish fiction back to the cult of the secret lie, which had in their hands what was left of the hearts of the afterlords. The cult was the idea, and the afterlords were their powerful ones to broadcast it. This man, who bent knee to fate, then reasoned how to convince away the broken hearts of men from this conceptual disease. He soon found that the afterlords, in their ownership of the means of communication, wouldn’t let him slow their sacrifice of mankind. This man then stepped back and asked what was needed. He could not possibly know nor list every ill man did against himself. He then constructed a philosophy that enlivened the soul as the second half of reality, and from there, its values. The good, true, beautiful, loving, and meaningful were now available for man to push against pleasure for something more. He brought back the spirit of the tribe, the ritualistic, and the bloodline, anything to remind man of his proud heritage. No ideas were equal to a mind that cares, and he made his template of hierarchies in the order of God, bloodline, myth and mission, king, and people. Finally, he built one idea as the throne room for God in the souls of men when they were ready for Him. He fought, he bled, he cried, until he finally pulled such a dreamed world directly into his mind. He saw the afterlord, the cult, and their dragon, the afterman. Where do thoughts lead? Where must they? Where can they? Peace and grief flooded the man. It was no battle for him to fight, but one lost before he was born. This new humanity killed God with glee, and then turned their new blade of reason against themselves. This man saw that no matter how hard he pushed, spoke, or pleaded, this conceptual sickness was on all men’s minds. To the most egregious degree he had ever done so, he bent his knee to fate. In the wake of the apocalypse were souls. How had they made it from the most cunning designs of their demise? These were the new men. Their hearts were broken against their hubris, and if they had any chance of continuance, they would take it honestly. The man who bended his knee to fate looked on the old plight of man, the doomsday, and the new plight, with paternal care and grace and adoration at their limited nature. Now was a chance to build the kingdom that blessed the sprouting of every man from the womb, provided him with meaning to collapse into being, supported his bringing of new life into life, and prepared him to join with the divine. With no resource but the resonance of his message, he rose against the few remaining afterlords. The nature of man was blessed as this new king built the new kingdom around the family. Men’s hearts and souls were cherished, women’s bodies and minds were cared for, and then these wonderful splittings of humanity in the sexes came together in unbreakable union to give these same to their children. Grandmothers, grandfathers, aunts, uncles, cousins, all together in a tribe that costs every participant some freedom, for the chance to belong. The new kingdom would be built on the privileging of such. This new king needed a name for himself, his kingdom, and his people. In reverence for that idea that rejoined the soul to the world, he named himself Maximus. His kingdom was the earth, and the few inhabitants of it who were left. This kingdom and its model of governance he called Maxima. Globe in hand, he meditated with God on how to care for this new race of the survivors. It was an idea as a lie that killed the last men; let it be an idea as a truth that kept them together. King Maximus reached for God, but did not know His nature past doubt sufficient to recommend or enforce his subjects. He once again came back to his idea that was one’s god’s throne. However, not any god was available for belief, given how we find the world and how we find ourselves. Therefore, King Maximus developed a chant. A chant used for war, weddings, mornings, evenings, births, and funerals. It was a chant to call man first to what he served and in what order, and then what values his newly quickened soul chased after.

Deus, Stirpes, Mythos, Rex, Populus!

Maxima!

Maxima!

Maxima!

Forma, Bonita, Veritas, Philia, Logos!

Maxima!

Maxima!

Maxima!

His reign was as a pointing to heaven, heading the Maxima Military, and winning over the hearts of men. For more exact governance, he broke the world into sections. To the Northeast, he called Asia, whose capital was named Atilla. To the Southeast, he named Astraulia, whose capital was named Charla. To the Middleeast, he named Aurabia, whose capital was Constantia. To the Middlenorth he named Europa, whose capital was named Napolea. To the Middlesouth he named Afrika, whose capital was named Alexandria. To the Southwest he named Ameriga, whose capital was named Cortea. Finally, to his home and land, the Northwest he named Maxima, with the great city in the mountains as it’s, and the whole world as capital, and himself as governor and king over the whole land of Maxima. To each governor was their selection of regions with regents over their portion of the land. Each had within it many tribes, whose leaders were the chiefs, who were more locally known as fathers and mothers. It was no longer the effort of the state to support progress, but to value the persistence of mankind. Maxima did not care to condone or coerce the lives of the tribes. King Maximus was instead seeking after the soul of his kind to the end and judgment of that God he reached for. Mankind had become natural, familial, and religious. His next effort was to make sure the souls of men were left to reach to God. Small factions arose to direct humanity to some end that would do so to them. King Maximus then led his men against them like the fallen capital of the old world, as he did when he came to power. A kingdom is blessed or cursed proximate to its royal bloodline. King Maximus then set out to raise Maximus II to be who the world needed. Once his son had risen to manhood, King Maximus was ready to be lowered to the grave. In an analysis of his life, he had said no to that lie, said yes to the soul of men, and said thanks to God. He then pleaded that his efforts and the heart that underlied them be witnessed before God, and that nothing more than the God he reached for did as He saw fit. Existence was not solved, but it was not looked away from. Minnows swim from their eggs. Birds break through their eggs and build up strength to fly. The fawn born with a spark of life lands in the grass. Finally, the children of men were born, cared for, and had strong shoulders to stand on, as they made this new mankind worth its perpetuance, in their reaching up.