In a small island village, there lived a young priestess named Augmentine. Everyday she was devoted to her worship and her work in the church, but she felt unsatisfied. Each day passed bleakly, and she lived through weeks listlessly, as if she had no reason to live. What is my purpose? she wondered. And so she pondered until one day she met a young traveler.
He called himself Clowd, a man traveling the world for knowledge to sate his curiosity. Always, he was wandering, never staying in one place for a long time. Clowd had discovered this small island and village as he researched various religions, hoping to find a way to escape his ultimate fate. But that is another story.
Naturally, as Clowd was researching religions, he stumbled upon young Augmentine. The priestess gladly shared her knowledge with this traveler, and in short time they had developed a close relationship. Augmentine was curious about the outside world, hoping to find something that would call to her. In exchange for information from the village, Clowd told her about his travels. The priestess was enraptured. In direct contrast to the boring, lifeless village, this traveler was spirited, eager to talk about wonderful topics – topics Augmentine had never heard or thought about before. She quickly fell in love – or perhaps it was just fascination – with the young man. Yet he could not take her with him. His quest was a solo one, and after four short days, he left the island without saying a word.
Augmentine was torn. She had experienced something amazing, something life-changing. Of course, she mourned Clowd’s sudden disappearance, but as the weeks passed, she began to think. She was stuck here, in her tiny village on an island in the middle of the sea. Not a soul living in the village seemed to care about anything beyond its borders, apart from incoming trade. She was frustrated. Angry. There seemed no way out. Her life, her fate looked as if it was already decided.
That night, Augmentine prayed. She sang a song in an old tongue, honoring the most famous and powerful god, Lord Alexander, god of sound. As she prayed, she slowly drifted to sleep.
Within her dreams, the figure of Alexander appeared. His majestic figure glowed, a soft, magnificent white robe clothed his toned body. His face was partly obscured by a pair of jet black lenses, yet even the Aviator sunglasses could not mask the light. The god wore a pair of golden sandals upon his feet, only just able to be seen behind his large stringed instrument, which he carried in front of him.
“You have asked for me,” Lord Alexander’s melodious voice sounded, “what is it you seek?” His voice was a rich tenor, somehow both melody and harmony at the same time. Augmentine kneeled before this awe-inspiring figure, lost for words. After a short moment, she recovered and managed to stammer out a few words.
“L-l-lord Alexander,” she began halteringly, “I wish-“ Her thoughts then turned to Clowd, the traveler she had adored so much. Would it not be nice if every person on this earth were like that? Would it not be nice if every person on this earth were better, no, PERFECT? she thought. In that case, the parents would need to be perfect to produce perfect offspring. Without thinking, she suddenly blurted out—
“I would like your seed.”
A pause. Lord Alexander tilted his head, looking confused.
“I would like…to bear your children,” Augmentine plowed on shamelessly. She couldn’t stop herself. Somehow, her impulse overrode any tact and caution.
Alexander was shocked. Never before had he such a bold request before him. He vanished from the dream immediately and sought counsel with his good friend Pato, god of knowledge and trolling.
“What…is…this?” Alexander managed to get out after his explanation, as Pato tried to keep his face straight. A giggle leaked out. Quickly composing himself, Pato turned to his friend.
“Well, you could just ignore it. These things pass, you know?” he managed to get out before he erupted into violent fit of giggling. Alexander, trusting Pato’s advice, turned from this matter.
Back in the mortal realm, Augmentine lay there dismayed. She had been rejected twice, this time from a god—but of course! How could a god have agreed to a proposal like that? It wasn’t even a proposal, more like a demand! She felt wretched. There would be consequences, she felt. She wandered the village aimlessly, but fatigue overtook her and she soon fell asleep once more.
The next day, she was violently woken up as a hard object fell on her head.
“Oops! Sorry, missy! Are you hurt?” a vendor asked hastily. His fruit stand had slipped, and an assortment of fruits had fallen off. A particularly big watermelon had landed neatly on Augmentine’s head with a ringing thump and split. The young priestess had quite a hard head.
“Ow…of course it hurts…” she mumbled, dazed. Suddenly, she sat up straight. The resounding ring sounded familiar…yes, it was exactly like Lord Alexander’s voice. Indeed, this was because Alexander and Yotsuba, god of fruits (though usually associated with the papaya) had created the watermelon together. Yotsuba had, of course, created the melon itself, and Alexander had given the watermelon its tone when tapped, the sign of its ripeness.
Augmentine stared at the broken watermelon before her. It was quite small, and its flesh was white—white as Lord Alexander’s robe. The black seeds glistened in the morning sunlight, beckoning to her. Unaware of her surroundings or even her actions, Augmentine picked up a piece of melon and ate it, seeds and all.
She cried out in agony. Her body writhed upon the ground. The seeds, of course, were imbued with power (as almost all fruit seeds are; it is this power that allows their planting). This power was never supposed to be consumed by mortals. The divine force in the seeds quickly drove through Augmentine’s body, destroying flesh and mind.
As her soul finally passed, Lord Alexander realized what had happened. Overcome with guilt, he decided to grant the priestess an immortal’s body. He had made her into one of the gods. Yet although her body returned, her mind could not be fully repaired. The seeds had driven her insane, her mind broken. Occasionally, she had a grasp upon herself and returned to her past priestess self, but most of the time she remained in that broken state, a chaotic state. Thus, the goddess of chaos Augmentine was born.
And this is why, boys and girls, you shouldn’t eat watermelon seeds.