[1]Our town sits on a river, not far from a great city with ivory towers. Normally, the river provides everything we need. But one morning, we woke to find it had dried up, just like that. Days passed, and still, the river remained dry. Without it, we couldn’t support ourselves.
One of our scouts returned with strange news: a wall of holy light had blocked the river upstream. He saw no reason for this, except that a god must be angry with us. We prayed to our god, and just as we sat down for supper, a man appeared out of nowhere.
He claimed to be a god named Jesi, demanding we pray to him instead. He pulled out a small metallic box and said he’d prove his divine power by feeding everyone from the food within it.
We were skeptical, but then he started pulling platter after platter of baked bread and blackened fish from the tiny box. Our neighbors were the first to kneel before him and receive their supper. Soon, more townsfolk followed their example.
Curious, we approached the man to see this so-called miracle up close. Indeed, he was pulling out far more food than the box could possibly hold. Each time, he tapped certain spots on the box, which would light up. At one point, the lights changed, and he paused to drink some wine before continuing.
My father turned to us and another family nearby, shaking his head. “This man is no god. He’s caused our troubles and now wants us to betray the god we’ve always prayed to—for a few scraps of dinner.”
The man overheard and stopped serving. He pointed at my father and declared to the hungry crowd, “This man is a nonbeliever. I won’t serve any more food until he is silenced.”
The mob turned on us. They killed my father, then ran down my mother and beat her to death. I managed to hide with my friend’s family, but my six brothers and sisters were not so lucky. Jesi had them brought before him, demanding they submit or die.
Each one refused, and each one was struck down by a bolt of lightning from his hands.
After a couple of hours, my friend’s family helped me escape. I ate some of their leftovers while they recounted Jesi’s final orders: the river would return tomorrow, and half of our people were to travel to surrounding villages to spread word of the miracle. Jesi wanted us to use some of our ships to journey to his city before heading to other towns, promising to guide our boats to a safe harbor he had reserved for us.
Our leader offered Jesi his home for the night, but he refused. He promised to return in the morning with the river. Then, just as he arrived, he vanished into thin air.
[1] Diary of Miracles (Jesi Saga)
This story is part of a collection of narrative entries, eyewitness records, and sacred illustrations documenting the rise and fall of the false god known as Jesi. This account spans many pages and includes artistic depictions and individual miracle stories recorded by a witness whose voice grows ever more strained under the weight of truth.
This story is part of one continuous chronicle. Treat each section as a chapter within the same diary. Each page is part of a fragmented gospel of a false messiah, exposed through the steady hand of one who dared to witness.
As you read, keep in mind that this is not a story of salvation. It is a cautionary record, and like all cautionary tales, its lesson may arrive only after it’s too late.
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