Realm of The Forgotten Gods

Gods of Boredom

"It smells like moldy warthog bum in here." A small voice echoed in the large citadel.

The air in the room stank with a pungent stench of frustration. The beings gathered in the room were either staring at each other or down at their twiddling thumbs. The room lacked decoration, but the overly pleasing architecture more than made up for it.

"Albris, please." Someone muttered under their breath.

The deep monotone voice bounced off the high domed ceiling, which was held up by perfectly hand-sculpted columns. They contrasted brilliantly with the carved stone walls that depicted harsh histories of old wars and tragedies. This was a place made by kings to impress the gods above them. Unfortunately, the gods that were currently inside the extraordinary temple were not impressed.

The gods sat in bitter silence, each waiting for the other to officially begin the meeting. None of them wanted to address the obvious flaws in their new world. So, there they sat, silently brooding. Until suddenly the air in the room shifted, as the small girl who sat at the head of the table sighed.

She seemed a bit out of place with her frilly sky-blue dress, and perfectly curled blonde hair that came to her shoulders.

The other gods shifted in their seats to face her. They all sat in unique thrones that reflected their persona, one of decaying skulls, another of fluffy throw pillows, a gnarly oak tree throne, a simple hard stone chair, and even one of solidified dark blood formed into a chair-like shape. The girl sat on a pure white cloud, her delicate legs crossed comfortably on the small nimbus.

The girl sighed again, her small hands cupping her face. She pushed on her cheeks to blow a gust of wind from her mouth, completely oblivious to the other gods glaring down at her.

A hand smacked down on the marble top table with such force it caused the stone to fracture.

"Well?" One of the glaring gods broke the silence. This one had the head of a jackal, his sharp canines gritted in annoyance. "Do you have something to say, Albris?" This god sat in a throne forged with weapons of war.

The girl looked up slowly to lock eyes with the God of War, her eyes held galaxies worth of stars. "... Ankhu." She uttered the God's true name. Her voice wasn't as childish as her appearance, it had a soft monotone that could chill a mortals' soul.

"Albris." Ankhu replied, his patience completely deteriorating. His voice was deep and craggy, it always sounded as if he were always on the verge of shouting or snarling, which he did often.

He was always quick to anger, but Albris always had the skill to press on his buttons in a way that put him on the edge. "If you have something to say, then say your piece now!" One of his jackals like ears twitched in anticipation. "And cease that damned sighing!"

Despite her small physique and childish appearance, she was one of the oldest beings in the room. The gods liked to think they ruled themselves, but they couldn't help but listen whenever she spoke or gave counsel.

Albris groaned inwardly. "Ankhu, I'm bored!" She then flopped backwards, her cloud shifted to ensure she didn't fall.

Ankhu rolled his eyes at the Life goddesses' childish behavior. The other gods chuckled lightly at the display.

"I believe the phrase is... preaching to the choir?" A cloaked woman sitting beside Albris chortled lightly. Her features were hidden behind the hooded robe she wore, but the part of her face that could be seen was beautiful. Ivory white shin, a sharp chin, high cheekbones, silky black hair, and luminous green eyes. Her throne was of dry bones and decaying skulls. She was death in physical form.