In His Name

Chapter 4 - Sleepless

The floor of their shack is now covered in the sleeping forms of its inhabitants. Every inch of space filled with a person or their sparce bedding. Rosco is warm and quite cozy, nestled between Sam and Yewin. Yewin had been pissed at him for borrowing his shirt and failing to get paid. Rosco's not sure which part his foster brother was more upset by, but he hadn't left any new marks on Rosco's skin so maybe he wasn't too angry. Unhurt and cozy as he was, Rosco was still unable to sleep. He had managed to fend off most of his housemates' questions with a flimsy explanation that the nobleman he'd gone with turned out to be shady and he'd had to run or get caught up in something unsavory. Lolly had a lot of rules for the kids she took in but staying out of unsavory business was one of the few rules she'd throw someone out for breaking.

His curiosity and impulsive nature had gotten him into a heap of potential trouble today. Not only had he talked to a water spirit posing as a god, but he'd met a real god and then promptly yelled at him. He ran his hands down his face again at the sheer stupidity of it. The god he'd yelled at was well known to be vengeful and quick to anger. In the old stories his name was synonymous with death. In fact, death was the only name anyone knew him by. He was lucky to be alive. He was lucky in a lot of ways.

Oh gods, he'd forgotten to give Lolly that kiss on the cheek.

Shifting on his bed roll, Rosco looked over to where Lolly lay sleeping with the drooling baby at her side. The yet to be named baby girl was the youngest but not the newest addition to Lolly's household. The newest was a 7-year-old boy sleeping near Rosco's feet. The kid had lost his parents at the end of winter and was still crying himself to sleep every night. The poor thing had only just fallen quiet a moment ago.

Rosco had been younger when Lolly took him in. He still had a vague memory of his mother shoving him towards the temple ruins. He'd cried and clung to her skirt. He didn't want to go alone, but his mother had pushed him into the dirt and vanished before he could follow. He'd sat there crying just inside the temple grounds until Lolly had come along and beckoned him out.

Rosco shot up straight in his bed, breath coming in short bursts. He carefully navigated his way through the maze of sleeping bodies. Slipping out into the cold without stopping for a coat or shoes. Free of the human minefield, Rosco raced around to the back of the house, crossing the thin expanse of grass that separated the homes from the temple grounds. Feet coming to an abrupt halt at the edge of the boundary.

Mouth working faster than his brain, "You didn't kill me!" he called into the still of night. For a moment the only sound was his still puffing breath, misting in the chill. Just about long enough for Rosco to feel like a fool for shouting at nothing.

"While running off was quite rude, I hardly find it worthy of a death sentence."

The sound of Hayden's voice startling him even though he had been expecting it, jumping slightly as the god stepped out from behind a fallen wall, walking closer.

"N-not now," he stuttered, shivering from more than the cold, "before, when I was little." breath catching in his throat as the god came to a stop before him.

The silvery moonlight settled on his features, casting shadows and highlighting his face perfectly, bathing him in softness and mystery. Seeing him in the sun or the orange glow of lamps had done him an injustice. It was clear now, that showered in moonlight was how the god was meant to be viewed. Gods he was beautiful, ethereal, to a degree he felt unreal, untouchable, and yet so close.

"You did not seem deserving of a death sentence then either," The god said softly. It was difficult to distinguish if his expression was one of sympathy or pity.