TW: kidnapping, burnings, a lot of brutal religious practices, suicide mentions, suicide attempt,
Please let me know if I missed any
The two appeared in a room with black walls. Deep mahogany posts and vibrant green accents complimented the room.
'You're all gods. Aren't you?' It was presented as a question, but the teen felt like they knew the answer.
"Yes we are. I'll take it that Niki told you." The blond walked around to sit at a desk, flipping open a book, quill dripping with emerald ink hovered over the open page.
'Take me to Techno's. This isn't where he is.' The brunette signed quickly.
"But do you know what Gods we are?" The god asked, writing something on the page. Symbols, they were symbols, the symbols of gods.
"Let me tell you a story." The symbols glowed, each a distinct color.
Pink
Red
Lime green
Emerald green
Black
Blue
Gray
● ● ●
A young woman with brown hair stood on the platform. She was to be executed for witchcraft, burned at the stake. The fates weren't on her side, that was evident.
The brunette was led up in chains, her flowing black dress trailing in the soft grass. Her head was down in shame whilst the men bound her wrists to the stake.
.
Flames licked her dress, but she felt none of the heat. Kristen died that day, but the fates apparently wouldn't let that stand.
A young woman stood in a white courtyard. Her brown hair long and beautiful. She wore a flowing black dress that had sleeves covering her hands. Bearing a red heart with two black lines on it. A black circlet atop her head.
She was the Goddess of Death.
● ● ●
A man with golden hair fell for death.
He didn't mean to, they both ran into each other multiple times. The blond evading the grasps of death as it tried pulling him in like the most melancholy of lullabies. Trying to get him to sleep.
When he married Kristen, the mortal collapsed onto the ground, the Goddess taking the mortal body. He awoke in a white courtyard, bearing the same symbol of death, with the freedom death gave him. Wings.
He was the Angel of Death, who soared on wing of freedom. Sought to bring destruction and death.
● ● ●
A young child who played with dolls, controlling their make-believe lives and their Dialect. He was the god of manipulation.
His relationships all had strings attached, mortals who wished for his power, gods who craved to know what happened next. There was not a friendship nor kinship in his book that meant unconditional. The word barely grasped in the god's wide vocabulary.
He was distrusted by many, sought out by thousands, beloved by few.
Bestowed a gift, a book, said to rival death itself. But that was untrue, for no one could control death, as much as many have tried.
YOU ARE READING
Lament of the Abandoned
FanfictionRanboo didn't talk, they was never taught how. But he listened, listened to the elders stories at the orphanage, where they would come to talk, and teach about the Gods and Goddesses. He also listened to conversations that were whispered between the...
