username: nierhend kalon name: tegun secret:
the boy stands in front of the crowd, sunlight spilling over the wreath of wheat that crowns his head. he looks like a god, or perhaps a princeling, long braided hair flowing over lean muscle and robes of the purest white. for now, he is no deity, just a common farm boy nervously thumbing the side of his robe.
soon he will be their savior.
the murmur of the crowd dies down as a girl walks onto the stage. she wears the same wreath, but the stalks of wheat nested in her curls shine with the luster of gold. her skin too glows with a divine radiance. paired with her benevolent smile, she radiates a gentle warmth that is as soothing as it is magnetic. all eyes are glued to her as she steps across the stage and pauses before him.
she touches the wreath on his head and as it turns to gold, her own wreath turns back into wheat and crumbles into dust.
when she is done, the glow on her skin is gone too and she is once again an ordinary girl. she smiles, all the more beautiful for the divinity she now lacks and whispers “good luck “ to him as she departs the stage.
her role has ended, but his has just begun. he searches for the magic inside him, the magic she used to aid their country, but finds nothing.
the rest of the day is a whirlwind of celebrations. the food is delicious beyond his wildest dreams, exotic game with spices he has never tasted before, but he scarcely has time to take a bite as people flood in asking for his blessing. he wants to tell them he has no magic, he wants to tell them he is not who they want, he is not who they need but instead he fumbles through hollow words, hoping his prayers reach some higher power that can protect them.
that night he sinks down into sheets of silk they prepared, too exhausted to care. as he sinks into sleep, he does not dream, but rather feels his mind overrun with memories that are not his and his veins overrun with a wild magic.
now, he understands, he is not to inherit any power but merely be the vessel for a god.
it is a sick god.
to provide for the crops, it has been forced to upset the balance between life and death again and again. yet, even it can never truly alter the balance. the death left in the absence of life it drained from the earth has been slowly seeping in.
the god pities him as it has pitied each vessel before, and he feels the pity, mixed with quiet resignation as its voice rings loud in his mind.
your role will be the same as those before you. to protect and guide the earth.
do I have no other choice?
as if surprised, the god pauses before answering
it will be your choice how you wish to guide
the boy smiles, and embraces the god, feeling it's magic flow through him in full
he takes the magic and turns it inward. by instinct alone, he forges it into a white-hot knife and plunges it through both of them. as he feels their bond shatter, their consciouses fade into darkness.
yet unexpectedly there is light.
he awakens in the same location he fell asleep, in the ruins of what used to be the castle. as he staggers upward, he gazes upon a new world, a world of his own creation.
they had died, but sometimes, the world still needs a god.
whether he likes it or not, he is that god now, but hadn't he been told he had a choice? he can choose the kind of god he wanted to be, even if it was a decidedly ungodly one.
in his heart, he is still nothing more than a simple farm boy. if his divine powers could provide aid he would give it, but otherwise, all he had ever desired was an ordinary life. he will guide, but it will be from the shadows.
they must never know his true role.
