Berries and Greed

But I’d learned over my time here, as an observer of a unique subsect of humanity, that people had all kinds of reasons for giving up their lives to simply exist in this big compound on the top of a hill. Some of those reasons were fairly innocent on the surface—they’d been rescued from a burning building by a demiurgus, who were much stronger and faster than humans, when they were a kid, and ever since they’d basically hero-worshipped the species. Or they simply weren’t attracted to other humans and were only attracted to demiurgus, and they thought this was the best way to potentially get the partner they wanted.

Some people had come here after experiencing a midlife crisis, or when the pressures of the outside world got too much and they couldn’t cope—like Hannah. She’d once told me that she’d almost had a nervous breakdown at law school, and it had made her realise that it wasn’t what she wanted. That all she really wanted was a quiet life with the person she loved. And in her dream, that person happened to be a demiurgus.

I’d always wondered why the people here hadn’t just tried to meet demiurgus out in the real world, like in a bar or at the supermarket or at work, instead of going to the extreme of dedicating their entire lives to worshipping the creatures. But after speaking to Greid, I thought I understood it better. I’d already suspected that human-demiurgus relationships were super rare, but it seemed there was a good reason for that—the two species weren’t exactly compatible. And if demiurgus knew that, I doubted they often bothered to approach humans they were attracted to.

I realised I’d zoned out when everyone started clapping as Moe wrapped up his speech. As he sank back into his chair, dabbing at his eyes with a napkin, someone else stood up and took a breath. I slouched further into my seat, wishing I had something stronger than water to get me through this.

“Beryl,” Fatimah began, giving me a beaming, watery smile. “I can’t tell you how excited I am for you. And, yes, a little bit jealous.” She let out a delicate laugh as everyone around the table chuckled and murmured in agreement. I dutifully smiled.

“You are truly blessed, Beryl, and I can’t think of anyone who deserves it more,” Fatimah continued with a dreamy sigh. “You have been a faithful member of our family for years, and not once have you given up hope that you would one day be blessed with the love of a Greater. You’re an inspiration to all of us, and a shining example of how we shouldn’t lose faith. That love will come to all of us one day.”

As Fatimah sat down to a round of ‘hear hears’ from the others, my gut clenched with unease. I wasn’t all that keen on being a “shining example” of why they should all keep wasting their lives in this place. But as I glanced around the table at all the wistful faces, I realised there was probably very little that would cause them to give up their dream. That was how groups like this worked.

If I’d rejected Greid, or he’d rejected me, they’d already have reasons and excuses for why. He wasn’t your Greater. They are still out there, they’d say. Or, His mating instinct is in flux. He will return with a clearer head and find his true mate. These things cannot be forced.

And if I hated it—living with Greid, being in the outside world—to the point of actually wanting to come back here, they’d have reasons for that too. You must not have bettered yourself enough yet, Beryl. He will return for you when you are truly ready to be his mate.

I heaved a silent sigh when the high priest shuffled to his feet, clutching his glass of milk. At least that hopefully meant the speeches would be coming to an end soon. Everyone went quiet, waiting with hushed deference for him to speak.

“Beryl,” he began, eyes already filling up with tears. “My dear, I cannot tell you how proud I am of you. You came to us when you were just a child, and it has been a joy to watch you grow into a woman and dedicate your life to our cause. I was so afraid that we would have to watch you leave when you reached adulthood, that you would be lost, but you stayed.” He beamed at me. “You stayed, and now you receive your reward. A blissful life with your Greater. To our cherished Beryl!”

He held up his glass and everyone followed suit. I heard my aunt weakly mumble, “To Beryl,” beside me before she gulped down her water.