Chapter 11: History

“That’s to be expected.”, began Ms. Oshie.

“Ages ago, a young woman from my very own hometown boarded a fishing vessel. An unforeseen storm happened over the ocean that week, and the vessel never returned. She and everyone else onboard were presumed dead as the ship surely sunk. That’s as far as Brobdingnagian history cared about Yuna, but the story continued, recorded by the Lilliputians.”

Ms. Choi turned to her business associate and continued listening.

“Though everyone else on the ship died, Yuna resurfaced on a vast Lilliputian island: Lillishima.”

“You mean?”

“Yes.”

Ms. Oshie nodded, then continued.

“The very same modern Lillishima, which today is now a territory under the unified government of Lilliput. Back then, it was an isolated nation of its own. Isolated as in, the Lilliputians at the time had no contact with others of their kind, and certainly not any Gulliverians or Brobdingnagians. Yet, upon their shores Yuna landed with only storm-torn rags covering her. The Lilliputians of Lillishima went to explore their beaches for anything interesting that might’ve washed up. This was common practice after any big storm.”

“I see.”, said Ms. Choi.

“Naturally, they didn’t expect to find a 6 mile tall woman laying on the beach. As luck would have it, they happened upon her just as she stirred and, after coughing up a small lake’s worth of sea water all over the first beach-crawling party, she herself noticed the Lilliputians beneath.”

“And what did she do?”

“That’s the amazing thing, she just watched them for a moment. They were new to her too, of course. This was far, far before regular contact among all sizes of humans.”

Ms. Oshie paused just a tad, then spoke again.

“I can only wonder what Yuna thought then. Were they bugs? She must’ve realized they weren’t, as I’m sure they bunched up and waved their arms as no unintelligent being could. Historical information revealed the Lilliputians had fallen to the ground to bow to her gigantic form almost immediately, but I doubt she could’ve noticed that level of detail.”

Ms. Choi became more enraptured by the story by the moment. She nodded for Ms. Oshie to continue.

“In any case, the Lilliputians eventually moved back to the coastal city they came from. Yuna, of course, followed and discovered the civilization there. That Lilliputian city was itself close to a few towns and the like, and with just a few minutes of walking Yuna found those too. She then returned to that big city she first saw.”

“And then, if I may ask, what happened?”, asked Ms. Choi.

“Then.”, said Ms. Oshie. “At the young of 20, Yuna became the living goddess of Lillishima.”

Ms. Choi’s eyebrows raised. She was more than interested by the story: she seemed allured by it. The woman in the kimono continued talking after a brief pause and a quick smile.

“She had very easily asserted her dominance over the entire island. Any form of resistance was crushed--quite literally. Yuna was something of a natural at it. She fit all the tropes of god mythology. Her rags eventually became cumbersome for her to wear, so she chucked them in the sea and wandered the lands naked. She was unashamed, and capricious--also like many gods of legend.”

Ms. Oshie smiled, thinking of the imagery of casting garbs to the waters in front of thousands of minuscule onlookers.

“Yuna’s demands were many and her patience was thin. At least two towns were flattened in the first year of her self-declared divinity for not ‘praising’ her enough. She had wanted them all to shout her name, but for whatever reason she deemed their participation lax.”

“Oh my...”, said Ms. Choi.

“Indeed. The entire island near starved to feed her. There was a famine and everything. Miles of fields were dedicated solely towards growing crops for Yuna and Yuna alone. She had no mercy for them if they failed to meet her needs. She had discovered, somehow, that one town had been slacking on farming duties. Do you know what she did to them?”

“Did she... eat them?”, said Ms. Choi. The answer pleased Ms. Oshie, who smiled quite wide.

“Yes. See, I knew we had similar mindsets. Yes yes, she uprooted the town and ate the whole thing. A village of more than 1,000 Lilliputians, right down her throat. There were carvings and drawings of the event.”

“Very interesting.”

“Yes, but the story gets better. Yuna managed to communicate with the Lilliputians somehow. Keep in mind this is essentially ancient history, or near-ancient at least. This was far before there was a shared writing system within the three present day governments’ territories, let alone *between* the three types of humans. It’s presumed Yuna simply talked to them, despite any dialect or accent differences. It can be hard for a Lilliputian to hear a Brobdingnagian and make out what they are saying, so it’s presumed she talked very slowly to rely any demands.”

“And how did they talk to her?”

“Ah that is the question!”, said Ms. Oshie.

“Lilliputians aren’t normally audible by us, sans technology, unless we lean in *really* close. It’s likely they used a variety of means to try and communicate with her. Archaeologists on the island had found deep trenches carved over miles. When viewed from above, they often made out basic shapes. One such shape was for people, another was a box with some crudely ‘drawn’ huts in it. Another site had its shaped tranches looking like rice crops.”

“Pictographs?”

“Yes. It’s possible there were other ways, but that was a common one it seemed. There were written documents to back it up. The Lilliputians had repurposed some of their farming tools to instead plow ditches over miles just to send their goddess messages. That’s how important she was to them.”

“I can imagine.”

“I think you can.”, smiled Ms. Oshie. “But another remarkable part of the story was that she wasn’t all bad towards them. Many of the island worshiped her right off the bat. How could they not? She was huge. Regardless of their opinions on her behavior, none could deny that she was, in fact, a veritable goddess to them. She could destroy towns with a swipe of a hand or foot. People bowed in awe of that, even as they found themselves beneath her divine feet.”

“I suppose they would, wouldn’t they.”

“They would indeed, Ms. Choi. Yet, like I said, she helped them at times. There was a record of a forest fire that raged through the land for but an hour till she spotted it. She walked over and put it all out with a few handfuls of water drawn from the coast. They praised her plenty for that, and the event is one of the most depicted above all the tapestries, carvings, tablets and the like dug up by Lilliputian archaeologists.”

“I take it they depicted her often in art.”

“They certainly did, Ms. Choi. Yuna mostly demanded a couple things. For instance, she wanted a formal sacrifice of 100 Lilliputians every month according to some uncovered texts. That amount, as we well know, could fit on our finger tip with room to spare. Hardly filling. Still, she saw value in it, satisfaction in it. Perhaps she wanted to keep them on their toes, or just loved the idea and sensations of swallowing such masses whole. Perhaps both.”

“And what else did she demand?”

“Art.”, replied Ms. Oshie.

“Art?”

“Yes, she demanded they make art of her.”

“But she couldn’t even see it, could she?”

“No, the vast majority of works they produced, she could never see. There were exceptions: she had them draw a crude visual of her in a field once so she could appreciate their work in full. There were also a few tall sculptures of her as well: 50ft was the highest. That’s something she could make out if she squinted with her head to the ground, perhaps. However, for the most part, she took their word for it when she demanded it. Either that, or some trusted ‘priests’ of hers would make sure her demands were met and conveyed such however they could.”

“Well that’s very interesting as well.”

“I agree. You see, I believe Yuna had a fear of being forgotten. She wanted to be remembered as the island’s goddess no matter what happened. Keep in mind, she knew there were other Brobdingnagians like her, but the people of Lillishima did not. As far as they knew, she was a real and true goddess, and she probably felt like that after a time.”

“This is incredible, but all news to me. How come I haven’t heard of it?”

“Like I said, it’s Lilliputian history and relevant to just one territory as well. It’s also not exactly a pride point for the people of Lillishima that they were ravaged and ruled by one Brobdingnagian woman for a decade.”

“Wait, a decade. That’s all? What happened?”

“Ah, remember I said she was afraid of being forgotten? At least, that’s what I think. Well, she was also afraid of losing her divine image. She wanted them to always know of ‘Goddess Yuna’, and to live on well past she died. Well, she kept track of the years and knew when it was her 30th birthday. Though it should’ve been a cause for celebration, it reminded her of her mortality. She worried about growing old, I think, and getting wrinkles and gray hair. My theory is she thought about her divine image. Gods are immortal, they don’t age, right? She didn’t want them to know she was human, mortal, like them.”

“So, she just left?”

“Oh no no, she didn’t *just* leave. Yuna said she was returning to the sky and would watch over them always. Then, she said she’d make sure they’d always remember her. She said this all while straddling that coastal Lillishima city she came across when first landing. After that, to the tune of their congratulatory cheers, she lifted her foot up and stepped right on the middle of the city.”

“Oh!”, said a surprised Ms. Choi.

“Yes, but then she left the rest of it alone. Then, she moved towards a town close by and shouted at the top of her voice, though she kept her words slowly said to try and be intelligible. It’s recorded she demanded they continue worshiping and depicting her image throughout all time, else she’d return and destroy them all. She said that she would, as a sample of her power, destroy at least a little of every settlement of ‘hers’ so they’d remembered her words well.”

“And she did?”

“She certainly did. She didn’t wipe even a single town out that day, but all were touched. One finger print was almost perfectly preserved before being paved over less than a century ago. There, she had rubbed out just the corner of one small village with her pinky finger. Most of the cities got a full step, but others got a toe or finger poke as she was sure to leave her mark on every bit of civilization on ‘her’ island.”

“What’d she do after that?”

“Yuna said she was leaving now, and walked into the ocean waters. All collected recounts of the event said she was seen swimming off into the horizon. After that, she was never seen again by Lilliputians, Gulliverians, or even Brobdingnagians.”

“So, she died at sea?”

“I presume so. I mean, she just went into the vast ocean with no clothes or a boat. But, her words and image lived on. Art of her exploded then. All the Lillishima inhabitants rushed to produce even just a simple carving of her to avoid her ire. Her foot and hand prints became sacred ground in some areas. The worship of Yuna became the dominant religion of Lillishima and remained such until trade with other Lilliputian territories happened. Even then, it took quite some time for the worship of Yuna to disappear entirely.”

“So, she died for her image?”

“In one sense, yes, but she was worshiped as a goddess for far longer than she had lived, and even today she lives on in history.”

Ms. Choi seemed contemplative at the story still. Ms. Oshie spoke up again.

“I want to show you something. There’s a tapestry behind us. Would you please look at it with me?”

“Oh, yes of course.”, said Ms. Choi.

Ms. Oshie turned around. Ms. Choi followed suite. Beneath them, The Lilliputians were treated to a pair of rough vibrations as the two Brobdingnagians pivoted on their naked heels. All their weight, briefly, was pressed from the bottom of their foot towards the material overhead. The Lilliputians below certainly felt it.

A tapestry hung on the near wall. Atop its white base was an elegant drawing in an ancient style. There was a big walled city depicted near the tapestries base, and around it were a few smaller towns and some green forests. Mountains were painted in the background of the image, and a bit of the ocean was to the far bottom-corner.

However, all that was just the bottom fourth of the tapestry at most. The mountains stretched into the bottom third of it, perhaps. Most of the tapestry painting was devoted to one one naked woman. She was depicted with sun-touched skin and loomed far above the settlements below. She was beautiful, with free flowing jet black hair down past her shoulders.

In the painting, the woman looked down at the settlements with one naked foot raised above one of the smaller towns in them. The other foot rested atop what appeared to be the wreckage of one town, with the debris by her toes painted in just as much exquisite detail as everything else. Above the titaness shined the morning sun, given the blue sky tints of yellow and orange. The giant figure looked very divine indeed.

“Is that Yuna?”

“Yes, this is a tapestry of her. Rather, a replica. The original design was Lilliputian scale and found by archaeologists in some Lillishima ruins. It was in near-perfect condition, so I out-bid a Lilliputian museum for the original and then had the image painted at Brobdingnagian scale.”

“It’s amazing, very well done.”

“It should be. The replica cost me millions. I hired a team of Lilliputian artists to do it. With their minuscule size, they could replicate every detail across what seemed miles of canvas to them. In fact, in this image Yuna is about to-scale.”

“Very impressive.”

“Yes, they certainly earned what I paid them. Now, back to the story of Yuna, I haven’t even said the most remarkable part of her tale yet.”

“What is it?”, asked Ms. Choi.

“She was a nobody.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, she didn’t board the fishing vessel so much as sneak on it. We know because of an ancient note found onboard about a ‘stowaway’. There’s sparse few other notes about her from my hometown all those many many years ago, but it’s known she was a peasant. She likely couldn’t read or write. Yet, despite that, among an entire island of Lilliputians, she was a goddess.”

“I see.”

“Yes, and if even the lowest Brobdingnagian could become as a god, ruling an entire island’s worth of Lilliputians, then imagine what Brobdingnagians like us, with our resources, could be to them.”

Ms. Choi tilted her head ever so slightly.

“I think I see, you consider yourself a god among the Lilliputians in your office?”

“Oh no.”, said Ms. Oshie. “I consider myself a god among *all* Lilliputians, and I consider you one too, along with every other Brobdingnagian in the world.”