Username: Goddess Sword
Smilodon Name: Bora
Smilodon Gender: Male
Pride: The WardsPride Status: Founder
Prompt:///“Nothing is eternal. Not even the gods.”
///That was the answer he had been given, however many years ago it had been. They had approached him, as they had approached who knows how many other beings, and said that they saw potential within him. Said that they wished for him to join them, become one of their disciples, leave this place and enter himself in their line of succession. And when asked why, that was the answer they gave.
///It didn’t make much sense to him, truthfully. Immortal beings dying, calling upon mortals to take their places... Yet, they were gods, and he was mortal. Who was he to deny their request?
///So he went with them, took up their training, in a world unlike the one he knew. A world where all manner of beings congregated and studied beneath their deities, where even prey could speak like him, if granted the gifts of the gods. A realm where, to him, the flow of time was but the lazy drip of a melting glacier, and yet for others, it seemed to flow as fast as any flood. Perhaps it was that he was the only of his kind there? He sometimes thought to question it... but then again, who was he to question the gods? No, if they willed it, that was their choice, their realm, their right. He was simply to train and become strong, learn to utilize the gifts they gave him. Understanding would come with time, however long a time it may be.
///And, indeed, though it seemed to pass excruciatingly slowly, time did pass. New recruits to the gods’ cause joined them, and old recruits found themselves taking up the roles they’d been prepared for. Two felines, more plant than cat, and always at odds with one another, were sent into the world... Had the old gods passed on, or were these ones in new roles altogether? Bora decided not to ask, that it was more important that he focus on his training. Immortality came easily enough in a world where time stood still, or at least near enough to it, but the rest of it? Mastering the rest of the deities’ gifts took more.
///The powers they had granted him reminded him of home, in their own way. This realm was warm and pleasant, with no such sheets of ice as he had known in his mortal life. But the strength the gods had granted him could change that, in its own way. Frost creeping from his paws, freezing winds billowing in his wake, seafoam turning to diamond dust, plants and stones and all sorts of things frozen and preserved in ice. He wasn’t sure if it was comforting or not, having these vestiges of his old life with him here. But he would learn to use them either way, however long it took.
///And it seemed that it took quite a long time indeed. Long enough that the world he once knew changed drastically. For when the day came that the gods decided he would be sent into the world, not as one of them, yet, but to... gain experience, as they had put it? He found he could not recognize any of it as his old home. The great sheets of ice had retreated, leaving rocky shorelines and great forests in their wake. The animals were, more often than not, ones that he had only seen in that other realm. And among the few he recognized from so long ago, none were like him. He was, as far as he could tell, the last.
///When he finally returned, he stopped holding back his questions.
///“Why did you not save them?”
///The god merely clicked its tongue and said, “Nothing is eternal. Did I not tell you this when we met?”
///“You saved me, though. What of the rest of them?”
///“What of them? You are alive. You will be alive for a long, long time. Is this not enough?”
///“What did they do to deserve this fate?”
///“What does anyone do to deserve their fates? The powers we are granted are not playthings. We do not intervene; we merely keep the balance.”
///Bora huffed. “Fine,” he said. “They are dead, and I am alive. What now, then?”
///“What indeed?” the god hummed. “You tell me. You are alive. What else are you?”
///The smilodon hesitated. “I am... a disciple of the gods, granted the powers of a time long past. I am the last survivor of a species taken from the world who knows how many years ago.”
///“Eleven thousand, give or take,” the god stated. “What else?”
///“...Well, I’m frustrated, for one thing,” he replied, earning a chuckle in response. “You have taken me from all I’ve known, and brought me into a world where I am alone. And what choice had I in the matter, a mortal approached by the gods? To refuse would have been suicide. And now, I have lost all but my life.”
///“And what are you?”
///Bora was silent. What was he? What more of an answer could he give? He was the last of his kind, a being who held the powers of a time long passed. He was...
///“...Memory. I am a memory. That of my people, and the world that is no more. I am the long-gone past given flesh, a fossil that stands and speaks.”
///The god nodded. “Then you have found your role,” it said. “Bora, god of the past, of memories. Learned god of knowledge, and of that which came before.”
///Bora met the god’s eyes... and he snorted. “This is what I was chosen for, then. To be the last piece of a long lost puzzle. Kind of a crummy position.”
///“You may see it how you wish,” the god answered. “But now... let us begin your new training. For as long as there are students, there must be a teacher. And one as experienced as yourself will do nicely.”
