Blooming Idolatry

Medling Deities

   We made it back to the school panic attack free. Mostly.

     Enna took my hand and led me from the bus. I let her take me to her classroom. Gazing at Enna, I remembered the feeling of her palms gingerly rubbing my forearms. My little terror had comforted me, and for that, I'd do anything for her. If it meant killing another god I'd do it.

     I sat "crisscross applesauce" as Ms. McAfee told the children. My hand was still laced with Enna's warm fingers. The half-day field trip meant the class would spend the rest of the day enjoying themselves. There were stations throughout the room with different activities for the little humans. A play kitchen, sand table, board games, and a library. Enna went straight to the kitchen.

    "Let's play house!" She dropped my hand to rope in the boy and girl she'd been talking to on the bus. I asked Enna what their names were, and she told me they were called Oliver and Aella. Ella for short.

    Enna gave out the roles the children would take on. Oliver was to be the son, and Ella would play the daughter. She said she was the mother. What I did not anticipate, was for my little terror to turn around and tell me I was to play the grandmother.

      "No."

     "But Sekie!" She whined and made her bottom lip poke out further than I'd ever seen. The horrible nickname was one I'd discouraged on the bus ride, but I had lost that argument. A four-thousand-year-old god losing an argument with a five-year-old. I think I should rethink this whole being awake again thing.

     Eventually, I caved.

     "Oliver, Ella, put your butts in a chair and eat what I cook you." Enna scolded her pretend children.  Ella sat down and shook her head. My grandson completely ignored his mother and went off to play at the sand table. How well this emulated a real family was shocking.

     "Sekie, Oliver won't play right. He keeps ignoring me."

"It seems pretty accurate to me." I looked at Enna out of the corner of my eye. I wanted to insinuate she did the same, but the girl only stared back at me with wide eyes. The joke didn't land apparently.

"Fine," I stalked the child whose arms were elbow-deep in the sand. By the collar of his shirt, I drug him back to the kid-sized table. He sat next to bronze skinned Ella. After touching him, he could see me. The child's eyes grew round at my small frame. I'd been told I resembled a lilac tabby cat.

My nose scrunched when I caught the scent of another god nearby. It smelled of teakwood, moss, and pine of the forest. I assume it was a male god, and presumably powerful based on the aged aroma of his scent. Panic stabbed my chest.

I quickly ushered my cultists back into the game of house. As we giggled and played, I watched the other children who were avoiding Enna's group as the lower factions of a cult tend to do. A glow began on a child's inner wrists.

The smell of dragon fruit and citrus wafted from the child. Another god? Both scents were ones I didn't recognize. This one even older and with more hubris than the male god.

The glow writhed and grew along the child's skin as she read her storybook. Images of tiny violets printed on her skin. The pattern resembled handcuffs of a sort. My gaze quickly darted to the child's face in search of any pain, as my bond with the cultist had pulled taut.

Her lips were curled into a cruel smirk. A child shouldn't know how to make that expression.

"Which god are you?" The little girl's voice was too big for her body. Her eyes glowed the same white as her wrists had.

"An older god than you certainly."

"No god is older than I." The kindergartener hurled the words. "You dare question the ruler of the gods?"

"You kind of have to question someone you don't know."

The child screamed in her frustration. Fists curled in tight balls at her sides and feet stomping in a tantrum. The scent of dragon fruit grew stronger.

"I am Leta and you will bow to the eldest living god!" I nearly awed at the cute little fingers pointing in my face. The girl had gotten up close and personal at this point. I pushed her finger away from my smiling face.

"How old are you?"

"900 years old. My mother, Philomena, left the throne to me." She crossed her arms. Her mother's name was the stone to break my glass house. She had exiled my brother.

"Leta, leave my children alone." My chest rose and fell with full breaths as I fought for control. "Remove your mark from the child and I will let you live your immortal life in peace. If you choose to continue patronizing me and mine, I will find a way to kill you."

"You can't kill a god." I stroked the girl's orange locks with a tenderness I hadn't given since I lost my kin.

"I'll find a way, or I will drag your soul from your body and force you into a death-like sleep." I bared my teeth with a snarl. "I will torture you until neither of us can stand it anymore. And I will keep going. Now release my child." I held the child an arm's length away and stare directly into her eyes. Directly into the eyes of Leta.

"I have no clue who you are, you weak mumpsimus. But you will be an insignificant bug under my boot after I squish you." She spit in my face as her scent faded. Throughout the classroom, the glowing light brightened until it was painful. I threw out my power, and in my panicked state managed to place my mark on nearly thirteen children. Including Enna. Cuffs of purple cone flowers surrounded the wrists of my reduced cult.

I failed them all. The Rulers were cruel gods, known for stealing the life force from their followers. Instead of reveling in the mutually beneficial relationship most gods had, they were greedy. I could not let Leta keep the cultists she took from me.

The smell of teakwood returned as I strode back to Enna. I caught sight of a male god outside the classroom window. He put up a single finger and beckoned me to join him outside.

I exited the classroom without taking my eyes off Enna. A deep-timbered voice startled me.