What to paint

Chapter 10

You were young when you recieved your gift. A blessing from the gods. Years of wondering and looking granted you something. A glowing sphere that was now lost. You were old when compared to a human. You painted the downfall of Osial, the betrayal of the salt god, and the death of the Goddess of dust. Your memories were older than that of Morax. All of them perfect copies of history. A mornful goddess once came to you. She begged for a painting so her memories would never fade. You granted her prayres with a smile and a hug.
When you found a broken and abandoned puppet you fixed its broken legs. Carved it new joints, fixed the painted on expression. You were a gentle blessing to even the gods. A woman's heartfelt screams for her lover. You watched as she became surrounded in flames. You watched as a hunter lost her connection to the woods and broke her one rule. You watched the heavenly principles distroy humanities greatest achievement.
The glowing orb you were gifted continued to glow and light up the world. Even though you watched and cataloged every death, war, and crime. You granted the wishes of the morning and were lonely. You gave and you gave. You left flowers at graves that were long dissapeared and forgotten. When the world forgot you sat and had tea with the spirits of the long gone. You never raised a hand against someone. You lived life as nothing more than a myth, lengend, and story. You wandered and lived your life until someone has found you.
However, now you sit there perched on a stool. A goddess sits beside you on the left while the man sits on your right. He prepares tea for the three of you. He pours your cup first. He drops in a few cubes of sugar before giving it to you. You wait until they both get a cup before drinking yours. It's a gentle flavor and just a slight bit of sour. You don't mention that it's not completely to your tastes, and continue to sip at your cup as you talked. Well, it was more so as they talked. They spoke about things you did not understand. Yet you happily sipped your cup of tea. Even as your eyes grew heavy and the two people continued to talk you fought. To stay awake. Finally when the cup slips through your fingers, shattering against the floor. You lay there asleep as Scaramouche picks you up and carries you off.
They both came to a decision, neither of which they enjoyed. They walked down busy hallways as the maids prepared everything for a ball. The God and Puppet walked undisturbed through the chaos to two large doors. Their decision was made haphazardly, they had run out of ideas. Gently guiding you to understanding and remembering had stopped working. Trying to give you new memories also didn't work. They did the only thing they could think of, give you back to the man who had destruction of you.
A cruel doctor sat in the center of his lab he was reading over his notes and diagrams. Ones that had your signature on the bottom. When the Goddess and Scaramouche stepped in with your sleeping body. He laughed, he liked watching your little experiment. He took you in a second. One of his favorite experiments was back in his grasp even if he had to fix you, he could still have much more fun seeing just what you could do.