ioche

vi

There had been far too many mortals than Dolis expected. He had estimated a handful, a small mobilized group, but they had been stealthier than he first assumed.

More than a dozen were on horses, nearly three times as much trekked on foot. All welded some form of bludgeoning, sword, or bow and arrow. The wagon in the far back appeared to house more based on the clattering sound of metal and stone from inside.

Though Dolis was a god, the mortals' disdain was evident by the way each of their dominant hands gripped their weapons, tilting them in his direction as they neared.

"Dulo incarnate, you are not meant to be here," a stocky-built man announced, welding a broadsword that looked impossibly heavy. Another thinner sword was sheathed behind his back. The three behind him appeared all to be under him, most likely his trusted right hands based on their fine weapons and muscular physique. "Whatever you have planned, it is futile."

Dolis scowled. "I know it is futile, do not take me for such a fool."

"Fool? More like a monster!" the mortal cried. His broadsword wavered between them. "You'll destroy us all if you don't leave!"

Dolis didn't have time to agree with the man, the lady behind him brandishing her weapon too. "Begone!"

The man held his free hand up as if to warn the lady. "I'll deal with this beast."

Dolis remained still, digging his heels into the earth. He knew a mortal would not be able to kill him, no matter how many stab wounds could cause a god like him to die, but it wasn't the pain or inconvenience of it all that put him on edge. It was the blood that ran through Dolis' veins. Any more hatred and anger from these mortals and even the slightest movement could trigger a catastrophic disaster.

The warning signs were already present: his skin itching, warmth spreading throughout his body, his extremities twitching at even the slightest quiver of the mortal's swords.

Dolis needed to endure and reign in the hatred attacking him from all sides, but controlling a mortal's anger was impossible.

"As if Daelia would consider taking you as their equal, it's obvious that Daelia would rather take a mortal as their beloved over the likes of you," she cursed from behind the sword-wielder. Her dagger swung wildly in her hands, its serrated blade as sharp as her mouth. 

"I'm aware," Dolis said.

The man scowled, stepping closer till the edge of his sword was just a hair from Dolis' chest. "Then you should know your place and remain in whatever hole you reside."

It stung more than it should have, but Dolis clenched his jaw. If he reacted, he'd fear Dulo's blood would consume him. He needed to ground himself, remain calm, and let them say their peace. They were mortals, Dolis reminded himself. He couldn't destroy any more lives, whether a bloodthirsty mortal or an innocent baby bird.

He resented how far the destruction had already reached; he needed to reel it in as best he could. Dolis was a ticking time bomb and was in his last few seconds from obliterating everything in his path.

A battle cry sounded from behind Dolis, a masked mortal who had strategically waited for the right opportunity. Attacking the god while distracted from other mortals would have been impressive, especially since Dolis had not brandished his sword yet still sheathed at his hip.

Except, Dolis didn't need a weapon; he was the weapon.

The cursed blood raged through his veins, igniting in an inferno by the anger and hatred by the mortals around him. Dolis could not stop it no matter how hard he tried, and he did try. Locking his joints and clenching the muscles as best he could, Dulo's blood was stronger. It consumed him instantly, blinding his vision until all he could see was red, blood red. Resisting its strength was futile.