Nirvana Effect

60



For the last time, the tribe assembled on the holy grounds. The priests had been playing their instruments for a while, long enough to have to light the torches to fight off the dusk. Manassa ran into the clearing through the more obvious entrance, this time, giving an opportunity for his followers to scream and bow and wave as he walked up to his tree.

Manassa had hung a small rope from the lower branches of the tree. It was dyed the exact color of the bark so no one could see it. Manassa used it to run up the side of the trunk before leaping up to the branch and walking out to be seen. It looked as though he’d defied gravity. The crowd went into uproar. Manassa acknowledged them with a wave. Finally, the gongs of his priests demanded silence.

“MY PEOPLE!” shouted Manassa.

“MANASSA!” shouted the crowd. They resounded more deafeningly than ever before. He was the savior of his people. He exalted in the electricity of their fervor. And I had been worried they wouldn’t want to move. He had elevated himself above tradition.

“YOU ARE THE CHOSEN!” he screamed, filling up the heavens with his words

“As are you, our god!” Manassa had to wait a long time before the crowd was quiet enough for him to continue.

“Hear my words, my people! Today we end a chapter in our history books, and begin anew! We are the tribe over all tribes, the greatest of nations, and we begin today a challenge that will end with our taking our seats at the right hand of the unseen god as rulers over his earth! Today, we begin our march towards our eternity - immortality, prosperity, and peace! In years to come, you will look back at this day as the day we staked our claim to inherit the Earth! Follow me, my people, to the sea!”