My, What Big Teeth You Have

Fallen Gods

➤ Wordcount 1.2k

"I'm sorry for the mess," the god said, perched on what was once an altar laden with gifts.

The smooth slab of stone was bare of offerings, covered only by a red cloth that fell apart as he ran his fingers over the material. Everything valuable in the temple had been looted long ago, leaving the place bare of everything but the etched inscriptions along the walls and the painted pillars. Solyana had many questions to ask, like why did you save me, how did you fall, and why are you here alone?

She listened to the scrape of his pointed nails, loud even in the largeness of the space.

"Why would you apologize?" She asked, hiking her shawl back up around her shoulders as the biting chill of the wind stole her warmth.

"This is hardly a place worthy of company," the god responded, and she huffed.

"This is no temple, it's a tomb," she said.

Perhaps that was a little harsh because he looked like he had been slapped. She sighed and limped forward. He looked away, and if it was possible for a god to be embarrassed then that was what he was. Even while sitting, he was taller than her. She reached up carefully and when he did not move, she threaded her hands through his hair, slightly awed by how black it was. It was almost not a color at all, but a void.

For a split moment, she could see him as he was meant to be, in all his glory. He was lounging arrogantly on his god-throne, muscled and jeweled, with skin like shadows and a black panther curled at his feet. A vision. Her lips parted as she breathed in, expecting to taste the aura of divinity, but there was nothing but air. Her fingers tangled in the tight coils of his hair and she frowned.

"Years of solitude have rendered you nearly human," she said and again, it sounded harsh coming from her.

Kicking a fallen god while they were down was a risky thing to do. That was the way to curse your bloodline down into the future generations.

"What happened?" She asked more gently and took a seat beside him on the altar.

Some parts of the stone were dotted with old candle wax. She pried a red disc of it up with her fingernail.

"This isn't my temple," the god said, resting back on his hands. "I am young and weak enough to rank amongst the demigods. I don't even have a reputation for myself."

"That's certainly not true," she protested, and he tilted his head.

"Oh? Then why have you not heard of me?" His eyes glimmered gold in the hollow blackness of his face.

Suddenly, he looked less malnourished man and more being of power. Her words failed her, and it was only partially out of fear. The rest was awe. Even as he leaned in and caged her with his arms, she already found herself imagining what it would be like to swear herself to him. Her elbow banged against the rock and she winced, letting herself sink until her back was flat.

High above them, the ceiling was painted in eloquent red and blue miruhn, telling tales of myth and legend that she would have to take the time to decipher. Strange how she hadn't noticed it earlier.

"Go on, Solyana," the god encouraged, or maybe mocked? "Tell me my name."

She sucked in a sharp breath as she felt him close in. He knew her name. That meant there was power in him yet. Her arm had come up at some point, and whether she had wanted to push him away or pull him closer, she did not know. Her indecisive hand remained on his chest, fingers braced against not much more than bone. He could replace The Wraith and no one would notice.