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Volume 3: The Eloquence of Hunger – Part 1

aleroz

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At the Tower of Ceres, a film crew was set up in the marble room. The set was ready. It was a live interview.

The crew was nervous. They had never seen the Great Mother in person. They waited anxiously for her arrival.

In the main room, Luz, Ysa, Amós, and Koee stood behind the crew, following everything on the monitors amid the studio lights. The interview would be broadcast live during prime time throughout the Republic of Fiúme, with simultaneous translation into the local language.

Al Acram was there as a journalist. This time, however, he would not be interviewing her. His appearance was not considered youthful enough, and the network had changed the interviewer at the last minute. Mother Ceres learned of the change and insisted that he be the one to do it.

Even so, it would be a tough interview, broadcast across nearly the entire continent.

Behind it all, through the enormous glass panels, lay a view of Ceres: a city that functioned almost like clockwork. Trains passed silently in the background. The room's acoustics were so perfect that even the smallest sounds seemed to take on the force of thunder.

Until then, there had been nothing but the crew's chatter.

Then she appeared.

Mother Ceres was without her crown, without her crystal tiara. She wore executive attire covered by a dark gray veil, along with her oval-shaped mask.

Her footsteps were light, silent, almost feline.

The chatter died away.

No one had to ask for silence.

Her presence simply commanded it.

For a few seconds, no one moved.

It was as though an entity had entered the room.

And in that instant, an interview ceased to feel like an interview.

The entire crew remained serious, almost catatonic, in absolute silence.

Koee smiled innocently, as though the situation were perfectly normal.

Amós sighed, bored by the crew's behavior.

Ysa held her chin above the horizon, proud.

Mother Ceres looked at everyone for a few seconds.

She noticed the effect she had caused.

Then she broke the silence:

— Good evening, my children. Welcome to Ceres. Has everyone eaten? Are you comfortable? I don't want anyone going hungry here!

This hardly seemed like an interview at all.

No one knew how to react.

Then a younger reporter stepped forward.

— Good evening, Mother Ceres. My name is Hermes Render.

He held out his hand.

Mother Ceres did the same.

Hermes shook her hand firmly.

Far too firmly.

She noticed immediately.

— My son... with all due respect, why all that strength? — she said, looking at his hand. — I can tell you've been eating well... But call me Mother. That makes things easier, doesn't it?

Hermes turned red.

Mother Ceres noticed his embarrassment.

— I'm only joking. I'm sorry if I was a little too witty.

The entire room burst into laughter.

Even those who were trying to maintain their composure.

Hermes laughed too, not knowing where to hide his face.

The interview hadn't even begun.

A young member of the crew approached, stammering slightly.

— Mrs. Mother Ceres... may I attach the lapel microphone?

— Yes, my son. You may. And call me Mother. That's perfectly fine.

He nodded, still nervous.

He would have to touch her.

It was just a wireless microphone, clipped between her clothes. A professional procedure he had performed hundreds of times before.

But this was no ordinary person.

As he carefully lifted the wire, Mother Ceres noticed how nervous the young man was. She took his hand.

— You may touch me. Don't be afraid. I'm flesh and blood, just like you, my son.

He was stunned.

He had just touched a head of state. The most feared and adored woman on the planet.

Our Lady of Hunger.

The woman who had destroyed Omni Opus with a gesture she herself had not even known how to control.

And he had simply... touched her.

— Relax. It's all right.

The young man nodded and stepped away.

He sat down in his chair, still somewhat disbelieving, and began adjusting the audio levels, fidgeting and pretending this was just another day at work.

Hermes pointed to the seat where Mother Ceres was supposed to sit.

— Here, right?

She looked at the chair.

— Yes, Mother.

Hermes realized what he had just said.

Mother Ceres smiled behind her mask.

The interview still hadn't begun.

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Thoughts

  • spicy_takes_only

    She walks in and checks whether the film crew has eaten. Coming from the one who devours, that's either hospitality or inventory.

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  • tabsnotspaces

    The network bumps Al Acram for not looking young enough and she overrules them to put him back. First move of the night, before a single question, and she's already the one running the broadcast.

    Permalink

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