The sound of wheels rolling over sand grew closer to you, Sterling, as do the muttered sounds of cursing. If you look over your shoulder, you'll see a pale figure with shock white hair in a gold wheelchair. They, of course, have too many eyes. "You not having a good time, I take it?"
"Good gods," Sterling said as they jumped -more of an awkward hobble but still- back from the god. "I uhm, no. Not really. Is this truly necessary?" Never mind, I guess this isn't a dream then. They thought as they glanced around now seeing all of the other gods in the arena, "Must we actually fight for our lives to keep the peace between you and the others? There must be another way, right?" That probably wasn't the way to speak to a god, but they were scared and nervous, "Can I be replaced with another? Someone who would want to do this?"
Magnolia whipped around, almost believing it was Claire who touched her shoulder. But no, she should’ve known. She shivered at the sight of the woman, but stayed silent. She almost didn’t hear the words of the man with the gravity-defying scarf.
She rubbed Charlie’s shoulder in reassurance, then stood and stepped over to the tall woman, heart thumping in her chest.
"Good gods," Sterling said as they jumped -more of an awkward hobble but still- back from the god. "I uhm, no. Not really. Is this truly necessary?" Never mind, I guess this isn't a dream then. They thought as they glanced around now seeing all of the other gods in the arena, "Must we actually fight for our lives to keep the peace between you and the others? There must be another way, right?" That probably wasn't the way to speak to a god, but they were scared and nervous, "Can I be replaced with another? Someone who would want to do this?"
"Yep," The person waved, smilingly grimly. "Good gods." They sighed and waved a hand through the air like they were weaving something, a blanket forming on the ground. "Sit down if you want to, you'd probably want to once you listen to this." Their grim smile turned more into a grimace. "It's not really about keeping the peace, it's about the fact that the Host holds everyone to their words, especially gods."
Magnolia whipped around, almost believing it was Claire who touched her shoulder. But no, she should’ve known. She shivered at the sight of the woman, but stayed silent. She almost didn’t hear the words of the man with the gravity-defying scarf.
She rubbed Charlie’s shoulder in reassurance, then stood and stepped over to the tall woman, heart thumping in her chest.
"Good, now that I have your attention, please follow me. We have a bit to discuss and then I will give you my blessing so that you may possibly survive this." She spoke in plain words, raising an eyebrow before turning on her heel and making her way to the edge of the arena.
Sterling moved to sit down, sliding their 'bad' leg out to then using their crutch to help themself down. "Wait, what do you mean by that? I guess that I'm stuck here, which well is terrifying, but if I'm going to die, I'd sort of like to have a decent idea as to why. I mean, I just don't want to do this…"
The person rubbed their eyes. "We all have an equal amount of power, each in our own fields, but the Host's, they're field is deals and if someone makes a deal with them, they will make sure that deal is fulfilled." They frowned and offered a sympathetic glance to the sky. "They're a dick who remembers everything." They summarized.
"But what does that have to do with us? If I didn't have any hand in this deal or whatever it is that you're referring too, why must I have to suffer the consequences along with these others? Shouldn't it be you and the other gods doing something like this?"
(Gods I did a really bad job of explaining things about this world. All the gods are common knowledge, the Protector, the Host. They all have their own shrines. Just like how magic is common enough.)
((OOOOOOOff, no it's not you, I'm just dumb, and I'll fix that))
Surprising herself, Magnolia was tempted to laugh. ”That you may possibly survive this.” She didn’t doubt the goddess’s power, only her own. The wording she used amused her.
She cast a curious glance at Sterling and the white-haired figure before following the woman to the edge of the arena.
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Felix, you're joined by a short person with black circular burns all over their face and shining gold horns. "S'up little kiln."
Felix ran a hand back through his hair as he realized who he was looking at. His mouth went dry as he tried to form words.
"You're- who would've thought…?"
Fumbling for words still, he got to his knees from his sitting position and looked up at the god. A soft smile spread over his face.
"You took me in, and I'm grateful for that, forever."
He took a deep breath.
"But how could something like this happen?"
Charlie's heart stopped beating as soon as the deities began to appear. She knew it was a matter of time before the Overseer of Death would arrive. She hastily wiped at her eyes and cheeks, trying to dry her tears and wipe the wetness away. Her hands shook as she placed the photo of her and James back into her bag. The people formerly reassuring her had now stood or knelt in front of their patron gods. Charlie's heart began to beat again, this time double her normal heart rate. I'm not ready to meet him! She thought, panic surging through her body. I'm not ready nor worthy! Tears threatened to fall again, but she withheld them with all of her strength.
(Overseer of Death)
Curtis had finally looked up from his book, looking at the new figures that had arrived. He sighed, shaking his head and looking back at his book as he continued writing. Dear lord, those people look insane. He wanted to use his magic, really getting tired standing and writing like this. And he finally did use his magic. He tapped his pen once as its naturally black ink turned a golden tone.
He wrote something down on the paper— “table” and “chair”. The text glowed somewhat as a wooden chair and table appeared in front of him. He took a seat and started writing again with the pen’s usual color.
(The Headmaster)
Surprising herself, Magnolia was tempted to laugh. ”That you may possibly survive this.” She didn’t doubt the goddess’s power, only her own. The wording she used amused her.
She cast a curious glance at Sterling and the white-haired figure before following the woman to the edge of the arena.
"Yes, I aware this is quite the… unfavorable situation, so I'll answer some questions before you ask them because we're short on time. One, no we can't pick anyone else. Two, why? Because the Host enjoys our suffering. Three, me giving you my blessing will give you more access to magic, to be warned." The woman spoke as she walked. "Also, you may have guessed this, but I'm the Archavist, you can call me Marin."
Felix, you're joined by a short person with black circular burns all over their face and shining gold horns. "S'up little kiln."
Felix ran a hand back through his hair as he realized who he was looking at. His mouth went dry as he tried to form words.
"You're- who would've thought…?"
Fumbling for words still, he got to his knees from his sitting position and looked up at the god. A soft smile spread over his face.
"You took me in, and I'm grateful for that, forever."
He took a deep breath.
"But how could something like this happen?"
The Exiled sighed and quickly gave Felix a pat on the head. "The Host managed to bring the gods into a deal and holds us to our words. Host is an asshole when it comes to things like this." They grimaced, fingers tapping on the side of their leg.
Kiyo, no one touches you, but you hear a voice that startles you from your observation. "Hey kid, you got a moment to spare?" When you look to the voice, you find a man with every inch of skin covered in scars and eyes completely black.
Kiyo was at a loss for words. What was he supposed to say to a god, anyway? He thought over his words for a bit, but eventually sputtered out an awkward sound of confirmation, accompanied by a small nod. He stared into the man's deep black eyes for a bit before looking over the rest his scar-ridden body. He had envisioned his god something similar to this, though not quite this exactly. "I have but one question, sir. Is it really impossible for more than one of us to make it out of here alive?"
Charlie's heart stopped beating as soon as the deities began to appear. She knew it was a matter of time before the Overseer of Death would arrive. She hastily wiped at her eyes and cheeks, trying to dry her tears and wipe the wetness away. Her hands shook as she placed the photo of her and James back into her bag. The people formerly reassuring her had now stood or knelt in front of their patron gods. Charlie's heart began to beat again, this time double her normal heart rate. I'm not ready to meet him! She thought, panic surging through her body. I'm not ready nor worthy! Tears threatened to fall again, but she withheld them with all of her strength.
(Overseer of Death)
Charlie, a person sits on the ground next to you. It's a tall man with chin length pink hair and a warm looking cloak on. He says nothing as he brings you into a hug, rubbing your back. "I'll protect him, don't worry, little one. He's going to be alright."
Curtis had finally looked up from his book, looking at the new figures that had arrived. He sighed, shaking his head and looking back at his book as he continued writing. Dear lord, those people look insane. He wanted to use his magic, really getting tired standing and writing like this. And he finally did use his magic. He tapped his pen once as its naturally black ink turned a golden tone.
He wrote something down on the paper— “table” and “chair”. The text glowed somewhat as a wooden chair and table appeared in front of him. He took a seat and started writing again with the pen’s usual color.
(The Headmaster)
"Hello Curtis, I see you're not having a mental breakdown. Good. If you stay smart you'll win this." Someone reaches through the air and pulls a chair out of nowhere, sitting down on the other side of the table. "I'll be quick since I'm not touchy feely and you aren't either. I'm giving you an increase in magic for this. It'll be pretty easy to use."
The Exiled sighed and quickly gave Felix a pat on the head. "The Host managed to bring the gods into a deal and holds us to our words. Host is an asshole when it comes to things like this." They grimaced, fingers tapping on the side of their leg.
A small smile spread across Felix's face at the gentle touch, and he nodded in understanding.
"It's too bad we had to meet like this, huh? But I'll try my best. I promise."
He let out a quiet sigh.
"I won't let them put me out. I'm not ready to die just yet, you know?"
After a pause, he tilted his head in question.
"Do you have any advice for me?"
Curtis looked up from his book to see the other figure. He then smiled with a small hint of mischief as he closed his book and rested his chin on his hand.
“May you please clarify what you mean by that, master?” The man asked with a rather nice smile, one which none of the humans had seen.
"Yes, I aware this is quite the… unfavorable situation, so I'll answer some questions before you ask them because we're short on time. One, no we can't pick anyone else. Two, why? Because the Host enjoys our suffering. Three, me giving you my blessing will give you more access to magic, to be warned." The woman spoke as she walked. "Also, you may have guessed this, but I'm the Archavist, you can call me Marin."
In the back of her mind, Mag kind of already knew the answers to the first two questions, but hearing the Archivist (Marin?) answer them herself gave her at least a grim certainty. She was almost glad of that, that the goddess wasn’t getting her hopes up.
She tilted her head, fiddling with the sleeves of her tunic absentmindedly. “It’s an honor to have your blessing… Marin,” she said numbly, trying to not to dawdle and take deep breaths. “Pretty name,” she remarked softly, knowing it had nothing to do with anything.
She did have other questions, but decided not to ask them now.
Charlie, a person sits on the ground next to you. It's a tall man with chin length pink hair and a warm looking cloak on. He says nothing as he brings you into a hug, rubbing your back. "I'll protect him, don't worry, little one. He's going to be alright."
Charlie hesitated, her back going stiff and her arms frozen at her sides. Shakily and slowly she wrapped an arm around the Overseer, a few silent tears falling from her eyes. Her other arm snaked around his back and Charlie buried her nose into the crook of his neck, breathing in the smell of the cloak. It smelled like the Shrine. The scent reminded her of the picture she took with James on his 11th birthday. Her lip quivered and she pressed her face deeper into the cloak. She couldn't help her shoulders from shaking. I don't deserve this, She told herself. Not after what I've done…
She sniffed loudly, hoping that she didn't get snot all over the Overseer's cloak. "Why me…" She muttered into his shoulder.
The Exiled sighed and quickly gave Felix a pat on the head. "The Host managed to bring the gods into a deal and holds us to our words. Host is an asshole when it comes to things like this." They grimaced, fingers tapping on the side of their leg.
A small smile spread across Felix's face at the gentle touch, and he nodded in understanding.
"It's too bad we had to meet like this, huh? But I'll try my best. I promise."
He let out a quiet sigh.
"I won't let them put me out. I'm not ready to die just yet, you know?"
After a pause, he tilted his head in question.
"Do you have any advice for me?"
The Exiled tapped a finger onto their chin, clicking their tongue. "Yeah, light a lot of shit on fire and never, and I repeat, never get left in the dark." They looked to the side. "They're going to use your weaknesses against you, so make sure they don't see enough to use against you."
Curtis looked up from his book to see the other figure. He then smiled with a small hint of mischief as he closed his book and rested his chin on his hand.
“May you please clarify what you mean by that, master?” The man asked with a rather nice smile, one which none of the humans had seen.
"The increase in magic, you'll be able to use more of my power and if you're smart about it, you'll be able to use it to lay traps and such." The Headmaster tapped his fingers on the table, a paper and charcoal stick appearing on it. He took a hold of the stick and began to draw. "This is the arena. The Host will probably stick to theme and do something regarding your memories, so only focus on the brightest ones. That'll probably help."