The Life of a Part-Time God

A Simple Beginning

  A city, quiet and reserved, rises with the beaming sun on a foggy Monday. Some chose to sleep in for a few minutes or decided to rise with sun. It was a day of normalcy to them.

Yet, when was this city ever stilled in normalcy?

  From the flock of cherubs flying over in the night skies of Colton, to the invasive plant species sprouting from the ground in Trenton, it was no normal, plain city. For some, they've embraced the wackiness with open arms while others packed and moved.

However, that's for another day, another time.

  There was an abandoned canal cut off from the water system that tunnels throughout the city. With deep cracks filled with vines and roots from a nearby tree, floral took ahold of the cement water hole. Flowers dotted the vines as pink weeds speckled underneath the tall grass above.

  Then, a beam of golden light struck one of the many vine wrapped pillars of the canal. More cracks shrewd the foundation of the cement that waned.

  There, a woman with dark brown hair tied into a messy, chignon bun appears. Her eyebrows were furrowed, knitting together in gathered frustration at the invisible adversary.

"Come out, you fiend," she hissed in a low tone.

  So, they do. A smug smirk tugged at their lips while their lithe form became tangible from the camouflage of shadow. With vermillion eyes squinted in vexatious glee, he cackled, "Here I am, in the flesh, M-jay!"

A ball of fire darted its way at his face, only to be countered by a wall of chains.

  "Why are you doing this?", the woman questioned. Her voice is is less harsh, less steeled. The wrinkles in her face, while concealed by makeup, became noticeable with wrinkles of worry on her face.

"Why am I doing this? Well, why not?", the other scoffed.

  Two mulberry chains whisked by the woman as she prompted to dodge them. A few more brisking her way and she countered with the hilt of the steel embedded umbrella. Flurries of dark violet and black flew about as more ether chains collided with the green and purple umbrella.

"You know why, Mjrana. All of you know why. Yet you pretend not to and pin the blame on me!"

  More chains spewed out from the ground and Mjrana with no delay in speed. With each counterattack, the sharpened tip grazed at the leather armor more and more, until it became a haphazard twist of chains.

She was trapped, with escaping alive seeming such a futile fate.

  "Faustus, listen," her voice trembled into a whisper. "I have no intentions on blaming you...or killing you."

  Scorn was all that traced through his veins as hearing those words of intentions. "How can I even trust you? You've said that not once but twice now!"

The corrosive chains were tugged at, pulling them closer and closer to the woman's arms and legs.

  Her hand wielding the umbrella was shaky as aiming at the intersecting chains to let out another burst of energy. With some form of a miracle, a blast of gold broke through the chains, dissolving the rest that were taut.

  Once she was freed, she lunged forward at the other with brute force. The emerald green and amethyst fabric of the umbrella wrapped around her right arm before contracting into a longsword. The burning sting of tears pricked at her eyes once she yelled the words, "Vanguard!" into the fresh open.

  Marigold coursed over her body, through every vein up until the nylon folds at her arm. With a faint glow followed, the embroidery on the blade's hilt beamed with light gold until—