Sleeping Deities

Chapter 2

Phil did not expect there to be a second visit.

Or perhaps more accurately, he hoped there wouldn't be.

The meddling of the gods in the business of mortals is meant to be rare for a reason. And even in circumstances such as his, an immortal with a hand in his affairs could only end in Their amusement at the expense of his disaster.

He would be another character in their game, like Their playthings before him. He would be the man set out on a quest put before him, running a meaningless errand They put on his path, only for his story to end in tragedy, as They intended.

No one wanted to be a pawn. That's why They called it something pretty — Their heroes — adding the flashy lights and promising riches to those who were lucky enough to be one.

But Phil learned the hard way that it never mattered. All heroes end, in one way or another. They die, or they fall from grace, or they trip off that false pedestal that They had set them on. An apple of gold, a bottle of dragon's flame. It never mattered what they retrieved for their patrons, because their patrons would never leave them alone.

It was a contract, tried and true. One bound so that it may never break even after death. One so intricately woven that there was only way to tear it to shreds.

At the thought, the corners of his lips curled upwards, just the slightest bit.

"I am pleased that even our presence provides you with amusement, oh eternal wanderer."

The god of war almost spat that title, the name a sign of respect turned mockery. A show of his achievement... If it could even be called that. And clearly, even Techno was reluctant to think so.

That was to be expected.

But at the sound of the word amusement, the god of love perked up, suddenly attentive.

"It isn't your presence—" Phil began, standing tall and firm in his own household, looking at his uninvited guest dead in the eyes. But Wilbur interrupted him before he could even finish.

"Then what may amuse this legendary monster of the gods?" He asked, with a spark of curiosity, and perhaps maybe even something more. "What might amuse the thing which no god dares to touch?"

"Not no god." The mortal argues pointedly, and the laugh that comes from the young deity is musical in nature. The beginnings of a song, though a bitter one.

"Of course, of course." He concedes. "Yet we are not like our mothers or fathers before us. We are simply..."

"Suspicious." Techno interjects.

"Curious." Wilbur corrects. "Curious and... What some may call adventurous."

"Neglectful." His brother adds, with a glare at his equal. "Some of us at least."

"Then if a god is neglectful of his domain," Phil's voice was soft, quiet, almost miniscule compared to theirs. And yet their heads turned to him in sync as if it were a thunderclap, their unnatural eyes boring down into his soul. "Would that then therefore make him no different from his followers?"

The effect was immediate, and more than he could ever ask for.

An arrow, notched in the intricate bow of a talented marksman who knew not but hearts and sounds. Shining and silver, it gave off a glow attained by none other than the moon, bringing an aura of cold silent nights into the daylight around them. Aiming at the sky, he fired; the arrow disintegrating the minute it left his hands as it pierced the air, sending waves of noise ringing down on them all like rain.

A spear, an inch from his throat from the child who commanded the blood that spilled onto the bright green battlefields on dark and stormy eves. Bright and gold, it was just as the tales described it; carved from the sun and the stars themselves, a gift that brought only the heat and passion of battle to its wielder.

For just the briefest of moments, Phil's eyes widened. Shock filled his features as the gods put their power on full display, a show of the strength that made them feared through all the realms they ruled over.

This was the fury of the War God, the overseer of all bloodshed.

This was the fury of the Love God, the commander of all hearts and minds.

The twins both smiled with the knowledge that they held the upper hand. That — if they wished — the man could simply cease existing at the slightest bit of movement. A flick of the hand, a slight jab, and he would be gone.

"You dare challenge us, wanderer?" Techno demanded. "We are the incarnate of your human trials and tribulations."

"We are the flames that you fail to extinguish." Wilbur's playful voice was a roar. "We are the unruly passions of your impulsive young minds!"

In the room together, they froze time. The knights, coming to slay the beast that hid in the cave. The thing which terrorized their village, the thing that only sought blood.

But then, the mortal before them gave a hearty laugh; a sound so full it overpowered the air-piercing arrow, a grin so wide it made the spear-wielder falter.

"Is it this which is amusing to you?" The god of music loaded his bow once more, this time aiming for Phil's heart. But the man doubled over, clutching his stomach as he tried to catch his breath.

"You think I fear an end?" He asked them between gasps. "I cannot fear what doesn't exist. I cannot fear what I can never experience firsthand."

Techno hesitated, before shoving the spear close enough that the edge bit into his skin, forcing him up again in a semblance of calm. The glow of the blade seemed to amplify as blood was drawn, the heat like a hot summer's day under the man's chin.

"That... is not possible." The god of love said with confidence, even as his string momentarily went taut, even as he looked to his brother for reassurance.

"You bluff." The blood god hissed, defensive against the unarmed. "No such thing exists who does not fear their own downfall."

"Well," The mortal gave a tilt of the head and shrugged. "Then you did what you do best, like your mothers and fathers before you."

And the man pushed himself closer to the gods, the unnerving calm and good humour in his eyes enough to make them step back. Was it terror?

Phil would like to think it was.

"You created one."