The Lies of the Blessed

I found myself watching with despair, as the hero I selected for this essential task made his own choice. A choice not following the path I had set for him. I had been so careful with this one. A human king had gone unchecked for too long, hungry for power and wealth. He had bled his kingdom dry and conquered far too many others. I knew I had to step in. Many had tried and failed to end this human king, and none had ever been successful. I had painstakingly looked for another with a determined soul equal to this motivated king, but one who leaned more to the light than to corruption. I was so sure he had been it. He was good hearted, incredibly determined in many things he did, and he was gullible enough to be controlled.
It was crucial that he follow my exact directions. And he had been so obedient. I had tied my puppeteer strings well, but here he was, true to his humanity, cutting the first string of fate from his soul. By choosing not to kill the man I told him to kill, he has chosen a path not of my making. The man I had told him to kill was one of the King's spies. He had tried to convince my hero that I was to blame for all that had happened. That the King was trying to liberate those who worshipped me. My chosen hero had hesitated for the briefest moment, almost as if he believed the man. I knew then that this man needed to be removed. He was a liability, he was swaying my hero to corruption. But it would be fine. There was still time to fix what was done.
My hero is sleeping now. He had rented a room at a local inn. The very man he'd allowed to live was in the room, standing over my hero with another of the King's men. Their quiet debate didn't stir my hero at all. I didn't pay much attention to their words as I lurked silently just outside the door, completely unnoticed. As it should be. I am not to be seen or heard, only obeyed. Their King knew this, and defied me. Strayed from my path. Now look at him, labeled a tyrant. Their conversation grew louder, drawing me from my thoughts. Their debate appeared to be over whether they should kill my hero or not. My internal debate was whether I should let them. My hero had defied me. Maybe he needed to be replaced. Though it would be such a hassle to replace him now. However, he did need to learn. So I snapped my fingers thrice, and silently willed my hero to wake. By this point one of the men had raised his blade to my hero's throat, though he was still in heavy debate with his comrade. My hero didn't open his eyes. Instead, he opted to quietly pull his blade from his sheath, preparing himself. Good, he was bending to my will again.
The King's man pulled back, distracted from his task by his comrade, who was heavily against the orders of his King. My hero took this opportunity to strike. He lunged swiftly bringing the long dagger up and across the man's chest. I frowned. It was only a flesh wound, not a killing blow. Why can't this man just follow instructions? What good will letting them live do? I summoned a wind into the room, whispering my will into it. It echoed my instructions into my hero's ear. He deftly ignored them, instead choosing to use the shock he had created to leap out the back window by the bed. I forced myself to keep my anger in check. It would do no good to take rash actions that could be used against me. Instead I decided to deal with this problem myself. I stepped into the room and snapped my fingers once, allowing myself to be revealed. Both men took a step back. "I know who you are.", one whispered. It was the last thing either man heard before I turned them to dust.
This hero was much more work than I had anticipated. I had to get him to listen. There was no other alternative. If he fails, I fail, and that cannot happen. I turned on my heel and left the inn, taking great care to become invisible to mortals once more. I wasn't supposed to reveal myself to mortals, nor was I supposed to physically become involved with my plans. But things were not going according to plan. He was supposed to have dealt with this. He was supposed to follow the path I had set. He was supposed to lie down and accept the fate I had planned for him. And he would. I found the man I had blessed with glorious purpose bent over, breathing heavily near the woods. He had clearly sprinted the distance from the inn to the woods, and was now suffering for his lack of ability to pace himself.
He clearly sensed I was near, for he straightened himself almost instinctively. He looked down at the green grass, his head bowed low. "I'm done," he said quietly. No, he can't be done. He must continue. "I'm done," he stated again, more firmly this time. I could feel the frustration creeping up on me. Desperation clawed up my chest and into my throat. I revealed myself, hoping that proof of my physical being would be enough. He looked up, his body slumping at my appearance. Yes. Yes, be relieved. Be ready to take up my cause. But the only emotion that showed in his eyes was a mix of kindness and sorrow. My brow furrowed as I tried to wrap my head around his reaction. Usually it was a mix of awe, relief, and even fear. "I'm done," he said a third time. "I've been done since we began." The realization hit me almost as hard as the arrow through my chest did.
A ragged gasp escaped my lips as the momentum of the arrow forced the breath from my lungs. The King himself stepped through the edge of the forest to where my hero stood. I was numbly aware that I was now on my knees, my hands shaking as I raised them to my chest. The King stepped past my hero to stand before me. There was nothing but contempt in his eyes. I felt a dull pain begin to build as I fell on my side. Then the pain was raging, all consuming as I forced breaths into my damaged chest. I registered something wet trail down my chin. I didn't have to see it to know what it was. "Your role as a god is over. You are done being a tyrant disguised as a savior," the King said gruffly, the hate so apparent it brought tears to my eyes. I looked up at the stars, knowing I was to join them soon. "I'm done," my hero said quietly one final time. A familiar sound met my ears. I had just made that sound. A soft thud could be heard from beside me. My job was done. A monster I had put in power had been sent to death. More than one. I stopped fighting death, and let go. Even a god is not beyond death.