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Once upon a time there lived a lonely god. He roamed the earth to cure his boredom and evade the many other gods. You see, he was the god of death and disease. When he was born, all the gods shunned him away for being a disgrace. A taboo to their name. After all, his presence was a pandora box waiting to be opened. The earth never shunned him away, but rather welcomed him with open arms.
One day as he walked the meadows, his eyes encountered a beautiful woman. She too was lonely. He found himself coming down to earth more often just to see this woman. He disguised himself as the lakes and trees, clouds and rain to look upon that face. He watched her for many years, though he never dared let the sound of his voice touch her ears. Diane was her name. He found that she lived alone in a small house, away from towns for miles. He found her when she grieved the death of her parents. He found her as she led her herd of sheep through mountains and grassy hills. He found her and she found him, lying atop mounds of grassy patches of dandelions, overflowing in disgrace only she ever saw as beauty.
Diane did not believe in gods or prayers. She believed in the way of life, and they found solace beneath the sun, the warmth of love they trusted. They soon fell in love, isolated by gods and humans both. Relations between humankind and godkin were unheard of, a myth as rare as gods themselves.
There has never been a more peaceful time on earth than when the god of death was in love, and there never will be again. The sun would rise to see love afoot and would set with love letters to the moon.
Soon, Diane fell pregnant. How happy she was at the prospect, yet how it saddened her. She knew the child that lived in her would be accepted by none. Half god, half human, will never truly be one. The child she carried would never be loved. Pandora's box lay within her. Diane never told the man she so dearly adored of the child she carried. The world ceased to exist during the duration of Diane's labor. Seven hours alone, then not so alone, there came a beautiful baby girl.
A demi-god was born the day that never was, the first to ever be. A few days later, this god came down with clouds and gold to visit that which he loved. When he wasn't paying attention, Diane slipped the newborn babe into his robe, never bothering to name her, or love her even yet. Once he had left yet again for the land of the holy, she began to pray feverishly to the gods that lay deaf to prayers. She prayed for the poor child she no longer dared call her own. She prayed that the gods might forgive her, for birthing an unlovable child.
The god of death and disease had not heard Diane's prayers, but rather the crying of a child. He found a newborn hidden within his robe, surely his. This did not scare him in the least, but rather he was filled with joy of some kind. He held the child in front of him, surely his. A minute did it take for this being of terror to fall in love with his child.
Evangeline.
He named her Evangeline. A bright, unlovable child who has yet to be unlovable. She resembled Diane in every way but mimicked him in most mannerisms. Soon other gods came to hear of the great Evangeline, a half god, half human, who had dared enter the land of the holy. Her presence mocked gods themselves, putting them to shame like a beautiful goat with no master. As far as the mighty gods knew, she was only half holy, half anything.
"Look at her golden hair! It's too human. If she's to live here, she should at least look the part." One of the gods remarked. It's true she had golden hair, but other gods did too. Poor little Evangeline. Suffering for the things she couldn't control.
"Her veins are gold! She is just like us!" The god of death had started to plead, but poor little god, the masses had their minds made up. Evangeline wasn't welcome. The goat was too prideful. The god of death had become a coward. Soon he had started to agree with them. Evangeline wasn't welcome. Look at her, not a trace of holiness in her whatsoever. Her hair was as common as any sheep. Her father, holding her, whispered into her being before throwing her down.
"Redeem humankind and be praised as a god. Be loved and become a true god."
That day, poor little Evangeline fell from the skies.
