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musingthrough · 12 days

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Love and Gods

Can also be read on Ko-Fi. This probably shouldn't count as a drabble anymore but I'm going to argue it is anyway lol.

The Blue Meeting room is smaller than most in the castle. It’s an old, old room. The kind that hasn’t been used since the castle was built out into the near city size it is now. The old temple is nearby, but that’s about it. The rest of the castle functions no where near the Blue Meeting room.

Which is probably why Quincy has made a habit of using it since his family was murdered. There is no imaginary whiff of smoke so far from the main Meeting Hall, no blackened stone. The recently crowned King cannot avoid the central parts of the castle, no matter his memories. Carter can’t blame Quincy for scheduling what he can in this distant hall.

“Thank you for joining me, I know it’s quite the walk.” Quincy says once the table has been set with a grand breakfast spread and tea.

“It’s not a bother.” Carter assures. “I spend most of my time in the temple anyway.”

“Priest Rehan says you’ve changed the temple quite a bit.” The King says with a bit of a smile, pouring them both a cup of tea.

“I’ve been restoring it.” Carter huffs but doesn’t roll his eyes. He can’t. It’d be misread.

“Well, no one is more qualified for such a task.” Quincy chuckles. They talk about nothing as they eat and it’s nice. And yet Carter cannot help the slight tension in his shoulder as he wants for Quincy to acknowledge it. The thing he has been avoiding for weeks now. The thing that Carter knows will ruin this little bubble they’ve created in the very back of the castle.

Today, it seems, is the day Quincy finally does it. Breakfast is over, the tea is cold, and while Carter has time to spare, the King does not. They stand to say their farewells and Quincy pauses.

Carter refuses to sigh, even as he desperately wants to.

“This is incredibly improper of me, and I hope you will the take no offence.” Quincy begins, taking Carter’s hands gently. The shorter man lets him, although he doesn’t look up to meet the King’s gaze. “I’ve grown quite fond of the time we spend together. No one else brings my mind peace. Outside out meetings it is a constant battle to stay focused on the present and not relive that day. But with you it is easy. With you, thoughts of flames bring warm not fear.” It is a sweet confession, one that Carter does not deserve. Not when it was his flames that killed Quincy’s family. “I would… I know it is improper but I…” Quincy leans closer, giving up on finding words to say what he means. It would be so easy for Carter to accept this. In fact, Carter’s sure it be rather nice to send his days here lounging in the King’s affections.

And yet, it would be so, so cruel.

He shifts his head away before Quincy’s lips can connect to his check.

“You should not fall in love with a god.” Carter warns, his tone carefully void of emotion. That doesn’t keep Quincy’s mood from dropping. The king drops his hands and takes a step back, all familiarity forgotten between them.

“Of course.” He says. “My deepest apologies Your Holiness, I should never have acted so bold. I meant not offence.”

“And I felt none.” Carter assures, already exhausted. “I’m flattered, really, and if I were mortal I would be more then willing to see where this went.”

“Then…” Quincy starts but doesn’t finish. Even a King cannot question a god and Carter sighs. This, he doesn’t say, is part of the problem.

“To watch an immortal remain as you age is no simple pain, and that is the best case.” Carter himself hadn’t been so lucky. Falling in love with a god is what got him into this mess. Stuck replacing a man that hadn’t warned him before he vanished.

“Would the pain it not be worth the joy?” Quincy asks. No, but people can rarely be convinced of that.

“Even if it was, you’re in love with the person you see but I am not a person Quincy.” Carter attempts something different.

“Of course you’re a person.” Quincy argues. “I can see you right now. I can-” He reaches out but stops sort of touching Carter. Such a thing is too improper.

“You can see what used to be a person.” Carter states. Quincy doesn’t look convinced. Why would he? Carter didn’t, when he was mortal. It is too foreign a concept. Carter does not pace. He cannot. It would be seen as anger, and the anger of a god is not a thing that can be expressed lightly. He does run a hand through his hair, desperately looking for a way to convince Quincy to give up this crush before things come to ruin.

“A good king looks at his kingdom and sees it’s people. A good god does not.” He tries to explain, lips pressing tight together for a moment. “My job is to keep the world turning, and I cannot do that and see individuals.”

“But you do.” Quincy says, frowning slightly. “Else people would not have your favour. Else you wouldn’t have saved me.”

“You are the first person I’ve actively given favour to in centuries, if not longer. Usually favour comes with fate or luck or study. And I’d just as quickly give it to your sister or father to save them instead.” Carter argues then, as Quincy takes breath to say something, he continues, “and not for the sake of saving them. A ruler must set on the Ember Throne to channel my power, as a ruler must set on all the temple thrones. For reasons you don’t have the life span to understand because you are mortal and I am not.” Carter takes a deep breath, aware his voice has risen and he can’t have that. If someone thinks the God of Fire is angry at his own King, there won’t be a Kingdom left to have a throne.

He hates this. Carter’s always hated this. It’s exhausting to watch his every reaction, to so thoroughly control his emotions. This is why he gave up his physical form in the first damn place.

“If it were that simply, you would have let the man who killed my family be King.” Quincy claims with a quiet sort of conviction and Carter fears he cannot fix this. Cannot rid Quincy of this crush he should not have. “It was his right, after all. He bested the House of Flame with your flames. The throne was his.”

“That’s a rule mortal made, not me.” A stupid rule that works because – technically – anyone with a connection to his flames can sit upon the Ember Throne. “And it doesn’t mean much. I did not want a cruel person on my throne, that’s all.”

Except that’s not all. It’s true, of course, but there is more. There is a god that likes cruelty, a god that Carter and his peers have been chipping away at piece by piece. Carter’s certain a piece will end up in that man, so shunned by the God of Fire that he dedicated his life (his cruelty) to. And when it does, Carter will destroy the man to hurt the god. And before he does, the man will kill more people.

Because that is what it is to be a god. Thinking ten steps ahead, sacrificing people that have no say in the matter, watching every reaction he has to avoid even further death. And mortals cannot love that, not truly. They can love an aspect of him, they can love what they see, and they will willingly ignore the rest.

“I disagree.” Quincy claims. “I think you are kinder than you think, that you are more a person than you think.”

Carter just sighs and gives up arguing.

#writing #drabble #queer #gay #lgbta

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musingthrough · 2 months

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An Ending

Warning for character death.

Read on Ko-Fi

The Temple of All Creation is as grand as such a name suggests. An awe-inspiring testament to the four elements, with walls that seem to have life of their own, and details so fine only the Goddess herself could have etched them.

Gales barely looks at the thing as he steps inside, feeling exhaustion where there should be amazement.

How many times has he done this, he wonders? There was a time he kept track. Counting each and every rewind, marking the changes in his book and desperately calculating every move. He stopped that when the number grew distressing and the book too long to read.

The first room of the temple is dedicated to life. The fountain in it’s centre has been shattered, water bubbling awkwardly over the centre of the statue while it’s top half is scattered across the room. Gales doesn’t look at that either. Just keeps walking until he steps through a door at the back. A door that can only be opened by the vessel of life, a door he hasn’t seen closed in… centuries, maybe? Centuries of this single day, repeated over and over. The day that Chaos consumes creation.

Or tries, at least.

He’s never succeed, Gales never lets him. He never truly fails either.

A young girl lays dead in the next room – a room dedicated to the element of Air. Gales doesn’t know her well but he knows her robes. A priest of Life. He stops to kneel by her, shutting her eyes and letting her time wash over him.

Nibb is her name. A young, promising healer who was chosen by Life when she chose to take a mother’s injuries rather than leave her children orphans. Such a kindness should have killed Nibb – there is a balance to creation, after all – but Life rewarded her selflessness with the godly aspects favour.

That was three months ago.

Now the girl – slightly younger than Gales had been, when this all started – is dead at his feet. The Chosen of Life is rarely the first to die but, really, he should have expected this time to be different.

“I’m sorry.” He offers the corpse of Nibb, standing and moving on. Again, the sealed door has already been opened by the Vessel of Air and Gales walks through it. Down the stairs to the next room. Deeper and deeper into the temple, knowing exactly what awaits him and too exhausted to dread it.

The Water Room is in as much disarray as the rest of the temple, although it hosts no bodies.

In the Earth Room Gales finds Ede. She’s still standing, her feet rooted to the Earth with her own magic, but she isn’t breathing. He wonders what trial Chaos laid for them this time, or if perhaps Earth’s own test was more than she could bare after the loss of Nibb. At this point, he can’t really tell the difference between the two.

The last of the elemental rooms – Fire – is in worse shape than the others. Every trace of the element it is dedicated to has been destroyed. He isn’t surprised to find Alote and Malyn inside. Or at least he assumes it’s Malyn. She – like the room of her element – is injured beyond recognition. She always is. No trial took her last breath. No, it was stolen by a man riddled with anger and jealousy he can’t understand.

Gales pauses at the final door, staring into the darkness below, and considers his options. He’s running out of them. Even without the book, he knows he’s tried everything he can. There is no fixing this mess he’s created. No erasing the lives lost over and over and over again.

This is the last time, he tells himself. Starting again will only risk more people like Nibb. People who would never have been involved – would never have died – if Gales had accepted his fate.

Down he goes. Further and further, into the final room. The Judgement Room. Two figures exist where normally there is only one. Jesper, Vessel of Chaos. And Tierri, Vessel of Nothing. Gales should have known the risks when he turned back time, desperate to keep Tierri from bleeding out. Chaos has always pulled on the loose threads he leaves, has always made things worse. He should have known that some part of Tierri would notice he’d been stripped of his title, his purpose as Life’s Chosen.

But Gales didn’t consider that. All he had considered was the blood pouring from Tierri’s throat. An injury that had been Gales’ a moment before, an injury that even Tierri could not heal.

“It won’t open.” He speaks, drawing the two men’s attention. For a moment they are too shocked to react, then Jesper faces widens into that cruel smirk that Gales has seen so many times before. He hates that expression.

“Then my god spoke true, as he always does.” Jesper replies, the words so well burned in Gales mind he could recite them himself. “There is another.”

“Another?” Tierri repeats, voice loud and drenched in emotion. He’s playing up his confusion and frustration, anything to distract from the guilt he’s feeling over the four people he’s helped kill. Or maybe Gales is projecting.

“I’m so sorry Tierri.” Gales says before he loses his chance. They’ve never had a third person here, he doesn’t know what that will change.

“How do you know my name?” Tierri demands.

“Don’t you see?” Jesper chuckles. “This is the reason for the emptiness in your heart. The man who took everything from you.”

“What are you talking about?” Tierri looks between the two of them – Gales tired expression and Jesper’s maniacal one – trying to make sense of their words. He can’t, he doesn’t have the context. This world is Creation’s domain, Time exists in it as Chaos exists in it – an outside power with no control.

Or at least, that’s how things are meant to be.

“I didn’t think it through. I’m sorry.” Gales repeats his apology and steps forward. Tierri’s grip on his sword tightens.

“Kill him, discipline.” Jesper orders. “I will even let you keep his soul, we will open the door together.” He’s lying. Gales my not have seen this before but he knows. Chaos is far too jealous to share power, a trait he teaches. Should Tierri kill him, Jesper will kill him to claim Gales’ power for himself. He’ll open the door to Creation’s heart and consume it, finally granting Chaos access to their world.

And Chaos will kill Jesper to claim Creation’s heart.

Gales has tried to explain it before but Jesper always refuses the truth. No matter how Gales phrases it, no matter what Gales does to earn his trust, it never works. Chaos is selfish but Jesper is convinced he is the exception. The world will end before he ever believes otherwise.

Tierri runs towards him, sword drawn, and Gales stands still. It confuses Tierri who falters and Gales uses that moment to side step the swing. The sound of metal hitting stone echoes through the room and before Tierri can recover, Gales touches the blade of his sword. It turns to dust, as though aged a thousand years.

“What…” Tierri stares, wide eyed, while Jesper grins wider, his suspicions confirmed. Gales’ rarely so blatant, and for the life of him he can’t remember why. Tierri pulls back an arm to swing and Gales lets him. The moment skin meets skin, memories rush back to Tierri. Gales isn’t selective in his sharing. He can’t be. After so long repeating this day, repeating his life, he doesn’t know what belongs when anymore.

“Oh gods.” Tierri raises a hand to his mouth, tears welling up in his eyes as he see’s past Chaos’ lies and realizes what he’s done. “What did I…” His knees give out and Tierri hits the ground hard. He doesn’t seem to notice the pain.

“I’m sorry.” Gales says again. “I didn’t know.” He should have. It’s impossible to see how choices will change time, but he knows Chaos. He should have known what Chaos would do to Tierri.

“So you broke the weak one.” Jesper scoffs, his amusement replaced with rage. “You think you just touch my hand and suddenly I’ll turn my back on Chaos? Bah! I know whatever happy go lucky bullshit you show me is fake. This world doesn’t deserve my forgiveness.” He steps forward, calling the stolen elements to his hands to fight. Gales spares another glance to Tierri before turning his attention to Jesper.

“It’s not the world that doesn’t deserve your forgiveness, it’s me.” He says. Jesper doesn’t attack him as he draws near and Gales wonders if some part of Jesper knows, or if he just fears the memories Gales can force upon him. “What did Chaos tell you about me?”

“You’re the Vessel of Time. Who has no right to this domain.” Jesper answers. Does Chaos know more than that? He might. Everything that never was is his, and Gales has caused much to never be.

“Chaos has no more right to it than Time does.” Gales points out. “And I’m not the Vessel of Time.”

“Oh, then what are you? Time itself?” Jesper scoffs again.

“I’m the Vessel of Chaos.” Gales says and Jesper goes still for a moment.

“Liar!” He shouts. His fist is coated in sharp ice when he throws the punch. But when Gales’ catches the first, this is no ice. Merging time is dangerous. Gales doesn’t care anymore. He’s tried everything else. He pulls at that first timeline – where he took the soul of Water for himself – and he merges it with now.

Jesper attempts to shove him back with air, but Gales has reclaimed that soul as well. When Jesper tries to take his life, nothing happens. When Jesper tries to pull the stone from beneath Gales that fails too. Finally, Jesper throws fire at Gales.

“Ha!” The Vessel exclaims with delight when the flames still appear. Gales puts them out easily but he doesn’t take Jesper’s fire. He can, he should, but he… he can’t. “So what? You failed as Chaos’ vessel and now you’re jealous I’ve claimed everything?” Jesper mocks.

“I succeed.” Gales admits what he’s never wanted to admit. “I could have opened that door. Time gave me the power to do it.”

“Oh I see. This is a little hero speech.” Jesper rolls his eyes. “You overcame Chaos’ power with friendship or some bullshit like that, and you know I can too.”

“No.” Gales says. “I saw what happened if I did it. Chaos would have killed me. It proved you right.” Jesper opens his mouth but Gales doesn’t let him talk. Talking has never worked. He takes Jesper’s hand and he recalls the one timeline that stands apart in his memory.

The first one.

“Please Gales, you don’t have to do this!” Jesper cried, the only elemental Vessel left alive. “I know there’s still good in you.”

“You don’t know anything!” Gales growled back. “You’ve never known anything. Your life has been ease after ease, the priests perfect little vessel. And now I’m putting that at risk and you’re finally feeling fear for the first time in your life!”

“Gale, it wasn’t so simple.” Jesper argued. “Please, just think about it. Chaos isn’t going to make you a god. He’ll kill you, the second you’ve done what he wanted!”

“That sounds like the priests.” Gales scoffed. “Chaos is different.”

“No he isn’t, and you know it!” Jesper claimed. “If you really believed Chaos’ lies you’d have already k-”

Gales shuts his eyes but that doesn’t stop him from remembering the way he’d skewed Jesper on ice and stone. The horror in Jesper’s eyes as he realized what happened. He can still hear Chaos’ voice in his ears, praising him for the murder and encouraging him towards that final door.

Time had stopped mere moments later and for the first time in his life, Gales’ head was free of Chaos’ influence. That still hadn’t been enough to see through the lies. No, that had taken Time showing him the future – short as it was – and the past in detail greater than his perspective allowed.

When Time left, Gales had sat with the power of all three gods. Time, Creation, Chaos. He could have ended the world like Chaos wanted. Instead he changed time, made it so Chaos never chose him.

He didn’t realize that meant Chaos choosing Jesper. Didn’t know how many times he would relive his life, ever unable to fix his mistake.

“You’re lying.” The Jesper of now – the Jesper who took his place as Chaos’ chosen – claims when the memory fades. He tries to pull away but Gales clings tightly to his wrist.

“Time doesn’t lie.” He says, just as the Time God said to him, when guilt had landed him in denial. “But there’s a way to fix it.”

“Fix it?” Jesper repeats then winces. Chaos is screaming in his ear, Gales remembers the sound well.

“There was a chance, that first time.” Gales says. “You could have killed me.” He draws them into the memory. Gales escaping the temple they’d be raised at, Jesper chasing him to try and persuade him from Chaos. It hadn’t worked. The only way to stop him was to kill him, Gales said as much. Jesper couldn’t do it.

“If you destroy my heart, you destroy Chaos’ power in our world. It’ll take him centuries to claim a new vessel. Maybe longer.”

“But we’ve done this the other way round.” Jesper reclaims, more and more timelines returning to him. Suddenly the memory changes. It’s Jesper whose running and Gales whose begging him not to. They’ve done it this way countless times, Gales turning every combination of words and failing every time. “You could kill me.”

“This is my mistake.” Gales refuses. “You’ve paid for it long enough.”

“I can’t just… kill you.” And there’s that expression Gales has been chasing for centuries. The kindness and love he remembered Jesper having. He’s never wanted it to come to this. He always knew it would be a hard sell and well… well, selfishly he’s never wanted to die. Gales always wanted a solution that meant he would see a happy ending.

But there isn’t one.

“I’ve tried everything else.” Gales says and feels every memory racing through their minds. “Please, this is the only option.”

“But… but could we not go back and just, forsake chaos?” Jesper asks. But Gales’ has already tried that. The last time he showed Jesper all that he could, they both went back with knowledge. And Chaos still manipulated Jesper into forgetting the truth of it.

“Please.” Gales pleads. He doesn’t let Jesper protest any further. He pulls at the timeline the way he can only manage in the Judgement room, where Time’s presence is stronger. His life unwinds around him and Gales reweaves it for the thousandth time and for the first time he reweaves it as it was.

When Gales is done he stands in front of Jesper, fifteen and ready to escape the priests and the life he hates. Chaos coos in his mind, tempting him to stab Jesper and already making thoughts of Time fade away. Gales isn’t ready to kill his friend, even knowing that one day he will have to. Jesper doesn’t have the guts to kill him either, even knowing it’s the only way.

“That’s what I thought.” Gales scoffs, turning away. “The priests are wrong about you, you know. You’re nothing.”

“Gales.” Jesper’s voice sounds different then it did a moment ago, different enough to make Gales stop. “I’m so sorry.”

The sword pierces through Gales’ heart, destroys the seed of Chaos’ power.

It’s not the ending Gales wanted but finally, finally it’s an ending. He fades into death with a smile, knowing that Chaos has finally lost.

#writing #free read #dark #3k word #fantasy

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