Heavy is the Head that Wears the Solemn Crown

Two - The Mortals and The Twin Gods

Techno

He was used to whispers following him wherever he went. From the moment he had been a small child, people would quietly share rumors that had been fabricated about him. The whispering had changed throughout his lifetime, but it had always been present. When he was a toddler, most wondered who he was and where he came from. There were many speculations about if he was a nobleman's bastard son or if he was a demigod whose mortal parent didn't want to be stoned. He was sent to work in the fields, taught how to farm a small plot of land that he raised potatoes on. During this time, the rumors were more akin to the other children mocking him and the adults having pity for such a lonely boy having to take care of his own vegetables. Their opinions swiftly changed when he went hunting for wild animals one day, returning with the prize of a bear that he had killed with his bow and cut off the head with his sickle. He was very quickly taken to the priests who decided that the young boy was a vessel for the blood gods, Alex and Steve. He was christened with the holy name 'Blade' and given the sacred Axe of Peace. The whispers transformed into people in awe and fear of his power, and a few people would swear that they heard Blade speaking directly to the Blood gods. The whispers became people retelling exaggerated stories about his deeds on quests and the terrifying monsters he had slain.

Even though he was used to people whispering about him, these whispers were different. People were worrying about something, sharing their agony in soft tones with a hand covering their lips. His ears twitched as he walked past a few men discussing what was going on outside the Empire. A civil war had exploded into something much greater. Several countries had been dragged into the bloodshed even though the war had only started a few weeks prior. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath as they waited for the reverend to tell them whether or not they would be joining the war. The soldiers were preparing for if the answer would be yes, and the families that would be left behind because they were too young or old were trying to say their final goodbyes. He didn't know if they were going to war, so he could reassure them of anything. Not like he would talk to them. He wasn't good at talking to people. This lack of grace was strengthened by the fact that most people he did try to talk to would either be fluttering around him with questions about his exploits or squealing in fear that he would lose a grip on reality and slaughter them. He was left standing with an annoyed expression as he waited to ask what he started a conversation in the first place for. No, he didn't know if they were going to war, but he was sure that he would be informed soon.

Ever since he had been given his holy name, he had been involved directly in the matters of the church. He was expected to have an opinion on the matters that the empire went through. Most of the time, he didn't really care that much. He followed orders, he didn't make decisions. They would tell him where a monster that was terrorizing the people was at, and he would take his axe to slaughter them. Most rumors about him were wrong, but one of the truer ones is that he did, in fact, hear the voices of the Blood gods in his head. Alex and Steve were opinionated individuals who tried to get him to voice his thoughts at the religious gatherings, but he would ignore them to the best of his ability. If the twins didn't love him as much as they did, he knew that he would have been smited by them years ago with how disrespectfully he treated them.

"Ugh, I hate these meetings," Alex snapped as she appeared leaning against a pillar. The twins were visual hallucinations in this form. They had a mortal appearance that only he was able to see. Alex gave herself brilliant red locks that were braided down her shoulder, and literal emeralds in her pupils that shimmered like gemstones. She wore a plain green shirt tucked into brown pants with a belt and combat boots, a bow slung over her shoulder with a quiver of arrows. She had her arms folded over her chest, one foot on the ground and the other pressed against the pillar she was leaning on. He raised an eyebrow at her as he passed, but didn't give much more acknowledgement than that. Once he had passed Alex, she had reappeared farther down the path like she had the ability to teleport with little effort. Well, she did have that ability. She was a goddess in the body of a hallucinatory ghost. The laws of reality didn't apply to her. Alex flipped her braid over her shoulder onto her back. "I mean it! They're a bunch of wusses, you know? It's fine if you want to be a pacifist. Not a lifestyle I would want, but I don't expect everyone to be like me. What I expect is that people who follow the Blood gods to be a tad more bloodthirsty. We haven't had a war in like... half a century! Steve, help me out here!"