The fall of a deity

Memory lane

Author here, just like to say that the credit for the first few paragraphs goes to the lovely @Hefhefgef2 and his epic writing style. Also I'm really sorry it's been so long, motivation is an ass.

Leukos reached up to adjust his mask but he saw his fingers came away bloody. He moved again trying with his other hand but it caught on something, maybe the glove got stuck on a splinter? He yanked at it and pain shot up his arm, his hand burning. What the fuck? He looked down. Oh. Oh shit. A shard of the metal had pierced it, all the way through, the point of it just visible. His glove was almost black with blood where the cut was. No. It was that metal who knows what it could do. He had to remove it. Most of it was outside of his hand thankfully so it gave an easy grip. He yanked it, biting his tongue to stop himself from screaming as the jagged sides dug into the edges of the wound, scraping at them further, opening it more. His vision was blurry, he felt shaky. He faintly heard himself call out and ask Ajax for bandages before his mind trapped him. It was in the same place. Same wound. No. Don't think about that. You can't think about that. You can't go back. You can't-. He did. 

His vision faded away, back to the same dark room, same bloodied walls, same whispers of ancestral spirits wanting more. It started years ago but it had never been this bad. It had started with simple things but it quickly grew. They had only just started using blades. Small cuts bled on his arms, the blood falling to the floor in small droplets. They all burned with pain. His hand was the worst, the knife had almost gone all the way through and was embedded there, the pain was dull at first but it sharpened and it felt horrific. He couldn't do anything. He couldn't move to stop the constant drops of blood running down his arms and face. He couldn't scream or cry out, he wasn't allowed to and it only got worse when he did. His screams fell on deaf ears and unfeeling cold eyes. He was going to die. He knew it. Or was he already dead? Was this a punishment from the worshipped ones for not believing enough, not doing enough? For disobeying?

Leukos forced himself back to the present. He can't just black out like this. His vision was fuzzy but he could see Ajax shaking his shoulder. He heard himself ask "What's going on?" Stop your voice from shaking you idiot. You are weak. You should have died years ago. He shut those thoughts out.

Author here, just like to say that the credit for the first few paragraphs goes to the lovely @Hefhefgef2 and his epic writing style.

Ajax was lost deep within his mind for most of the night, ruminating on what he had seen while encased in the goo. It terrified him that he almost wished he could go back into that trance, though he knew that was exactly what it had wanted. It had comforted him, brought back memories from before he had even opened his eyes. When he felt his mind slipping into it he had braced himself for agony, for images that would stay in his mind until the day he died. Instead, the smell of the forest washed over him. It remained like that for what felt like a very long time, seemingly while the goo searched his mind for something that would make him want to be whatever monster he had been turned into. Then, everything came into more focus, and the memory began. The earliest one he had.

He was very small, very weak, and completely blind. But that was okay. He knew he was safe. Someone large and warm and comforting was curled around him, taking care of him. He could still smell the forest, the damp bark and mud from last night's rainfall, but now his attention was on the milky scent of his mother. She whispered gently to him, and though he would never remember her name or her face, he would never forget the things she told him. It didn't matter that he was so small. It didn't matter that he was the last egg to hatch. It didn't matter that his siblings were playfighting and being so rowdy what she sometimes had to chase them to make sure they stayed near to the nest while he hadn't even opened his eyes yet. He was safe as long as his family was there looking after him. And someday, when he was big, he could protect his family, too. Yes, he would be a great protector someday, she was sure of it. Ajax wriggled closer to her side, determined to convey the gratitude he couldn't yet put into words and soaking up as much of her presence as possible. The scene seemed to shift a little at that point. He was bigger now, not my much, but enough for the memory to be clearer. It was cooler, and darkness bathed the forest in quiet. He could feel his siblings curled into the nest around him, and he could scent his father nearby, too. It was a ritual he was well familiar with. By day, his mother would watch over him and his siblings while his father patrolled and hunted, making sure the area was safe. At dusk he would return, and he and Ajax's mother would chase their children around until they wore themselves out. Ajax was the slowest and always tired the fastest, but his siblings, and one sister in particular, tried to make sure they weren't too rough for him to keep up with. His mother would wish them all goodnight before she went out for the night. There was always somebody watching their patch of territory, making sure all was well.

Dawn was the memory he loved the most. It was a small bit of time where both his mother and father and all of his siblings were just together, just quiet, just relaxed, just peacefully existing. He had always wished that one moment would last forever, and that's what the goo had promised him. An eternity of safety within it's clutches, of living with his family just like old times. He had fought against it, but the thought of how tempted he had been to stop fighting and live within the trance sent spirals of disgust through his stomach. Leukos shattering the pillar was like having them ripped away from him all over again. It was like being small and weak and blind all over again, this time with only his own defenses. 

Leukos's pained cry tore him out of his memories, and he quickly snapped back to reality. Blood was gushing from a wound on Leukos's hand; he must've moved at some point in the night and accidentally put his palm over a shard. Ajax grabbed his bag from across the floor and produced his water flask and a roll of bandages. He usually used them for soaking in alcohol and lighting his torch, so he hoped they were clean. Leukos was staring wide-eyed at his hand as if he'd never seen blood before, his chest heaving with panic. Ajax patted his shoulder. No response. He shook it lightly, beginning to fear for his friend. Leukos looked gormlessly at him.

"What's going on?" He whispered shakily. He then got a strange, steely look on his face and turned away, staring unseeingly at the cave wall opposite.