Deicide: To Kill The Gods

Spending the day cleaning out Meryll's attic wasn't really what I intended to be doing, really. However, she had stated ‘even the simple things were necessary to a warrior’, so I stood with a flame lit in my palm, brushing cobwebs out of my face as I tried to find what she had asked me to look for.

In particular, my work normally entailed killing monsters as well as the occasional human. Sometimes, illegal beast sellers came through here– as I now knew that beasts of the second generation or later had the ability to be tamed by humans, if they were strong, they could be sold for high prices. But not legally, of course. And as such, I needed a mask to conceal my face and my voice– with multicoloured hair and heterochromia, I couldn't give them another feature to recognise me by, as they were all in some kind of elaborate network– I had almost been recognised the last time.

Pushing apart stacked boxes, I eventually came to the corner, finding a black stick-looking ornament leant against the wall, along with a mask by its side. Well, the mask was needed, but I was more interested in the stick. Lifting it up, it was somewhat hefty and rather long, feeling the cloth wrapped around whatever it was beneath my fingers as I turned, picking up the mask and taking them both to Meryll.

Upon presenting the items, she smiled the way she normally did. Wise, yet nothing was presented to me. I couldn't see beyond her smile, and I never had been able to.

“I found this stick thing, Grandma Meryll.” I said, holding it out to her horizontally, but not without some struggle.

“That, my child, is a sword.” As I raised an eyebrow, she continued. “It was a sword used by an old friend of mine who has long since passed. It is a sword that chooses its owner, and hasn't responded to anyone else since. If you can manage to draw it, you can keep it. I recommend you attempt using the second stage of your Kismet.” Then, she fell silent, to allow me to have a go at it.

Utilising what she had told me, I activated the second stage, Partial Incarnation. My stigmata glowed darkly, visible through my shirt, hair going completely white as both of my eyes changed to a yellow colour, becoming slitted much like Meryll's. Glowing, tattooed runes trailed up and down my arms, neck, chest, and underneath my eyes. They were black– the same colour as my stigmata.

The particles of soul were more visible now, as though I could reach out and touch them. They were in everything, living or not. I could see where they gathered when an attack was about to be released, where they gathered when an opponent was attempting to defend themselves.

Hands gripping the scabbard of this supposed blade, I pulled it upwards and out, watching as it dislodged, and slipped out. As it did so, the blade responded to my soul, growing smaller and lighter, more balanced to fit my weight. My eyes closed, and suddenly, I was in complete darkness.

A beast slowly made its way from the darkness. A large, scaled beast. It looked serpentine, but also, like a feline with a pointed snout– blackish-purple in colour with a white underbelly. Two large wings extended from either side, clad in feathers which I was almost certain could tear me into a million pieces. A dragon. And in that moment, I was an ant staring up at a giant.

It walked up until it towered above me. 8 feet tall, at least. And it roared. I covered my face with my arms, feeling the warmth of its breath on my skin, with teeth that could rip my body to shreds in an instant. But I wasn't scared.

“So you are the one who has awoken me..” It circled me, glancing at my body, shrinking until it was a small, dark purple wolf.

“You are smaller than the last, most certainly. Scrawny, too. I do not trust you with my power just yet. You will have to prove your worth.” It said, nodding, seemingly agreeing with itself. I internally groaned, for that was another thing on my plate. Then, I was back with Meryll.

The sword consisted of a black hilt covered in cloth to ensure the wielder wouldn't lose their grip on it whilst fighting. The guard and pommel were small and made of brass, aiding the belief that when sheathed, the sword was simply a stick. The sheath was a simple, straight black scabbard, able to be tied to the user using a sash or a belt, and strong enough to allow the sword to be used as a bludgeoning weapon.

The sword itself was double-edged and black, with the edges a stark white in contrast to the point it seemed to glow. Etched onto the blade near the hilt was the word ‘ЯΣQЦIΣM’. Requiem. I could only assume that was the name of the blade.

Swinging it through the air, it cleaved through the air easily. I grinned at Meryll.

“This'll do perfectly, thank you. Now, you said there are some illegal beast sellers nearby?”

–

The mask I had chosen was fully white, and had two, curving eye holes. Aside from that, it was thoroughly featureless. Good. The less they had to recognise me, the better. Requiem was latched into my belt as I pulled up the hood of the black cloak I wore over my shirt, boots crunching gently on the branches beneath my feet as I leapt through the trees, following the carriage silently.

It was a waiting game. Taking on four men at once wasn't exactly out of my level of strength, however, I didn't know the scope of their abilities just yet. None of them looked like sages, but they were all armed to the teeth with weaponry. One could never be too careful, Meryll had taught me– and she was right, as always.

After a couple days of watching, waiting, trailing, gathering info… It was time to strike. My body dropped through the trees like an arrow, landing squarely on the dirt with minimal noise. Throwing a rock at the first man, it nailed him on the head as he approached the source, leaving the group behind.

My arms wrapped around his neck, whispering into his ear a few words of whatever comfort I could grant him– none.

“Scream, and I kill you.” My voice was deeper than usual due to the mask, and I was somewhat surprised. That would be difficult to get used to. With Requiem's blade pressed up against his neck, he knew better than to let out a sound– but he then attempted to call for help. Though I sharply dragged my blade across his neck, killing him in an instant, the others had already been alerted, and I was surrounded immediately by the three men. Blood dripped from the wound, running down my fingers and sword in rivers of red.

I let him go, allowing him to collapse, cracking my knuckles as they got closer to me. I didn't even need to use magic for these three– they were child's play.

The first drew a longsword and charged towards me, raising it over his head with significant effort and swinging it vertically downwards. I slipped my left leg backwards, body facing side on as I collected soul energy in my left fist, swinging it into the man's face, causing his nose to break. The bones snapped, and blood poured forth like the opening of a dam into a region of drought– I couldn't tell where the injury from his nose ended and his lip began, the sound causing me to recoil and pull my hand away.

My hands grasped at his coloured locks for more leverage, a sharp twist snapping his neck like a toothpick. It was rather odd. The neck sustained life, yet it broke with nothing more than a simple twist of my arms. Watching his body tumble to the floor, I turned. If it had been before, disgust and horror may have painted my face, yet I was used to it now. Too used to it.

My attention turned to those gathered behind me, the unfortunate recipients of my next act. My eyes rested on them for a single moment, and that was enough to shatter the layer of protection they had placed around their soul, providing a window into the deceit, lies, and evil that lay within. Adrenaline coursed through my veins faster than any drug, the man's blood still dripping from my fingers.

There was no mistaking it. In that moment, I reigned over the battlefield as their omniscient, omnipotent god.

“Wh-what even are you?!” The one on the right asked, as they both attempted to back away. To escape, to run. Yet it was proven futile as fear rooted them in place, preventing them from moving.

“I wonder sometimes, too…” I continued my slow walk, raising my blade, swinging it twice in a cross motion horizontally. Their bodies were soon shredded, as I swung it, allowing the blood to paint the grass red, the blood of these scum. Then, I sheathed Requiem carefully, returning it to its scabbard.

“...But you vermin tend to call me ‘Death’.”

Bodies lay scattered around me as I walked past them, without taking care whether I stepped on their bloody corpses. They didn't deserve even that much respect from me. Approaching the carriage with caution, my hands graced the wooden door. Locked with a padlock that was likely reinforced with some sort of magic. If only an unlocking spell existed…

I sighed, as there was only one way from here. My arm raised, and soul converged in the palm of my outstretched hand, taking the form of red flames. They licked my fingers yet didn't hurt in the slightest, and I held them close to the door, watching as it lit ablaze. Probably not my best idea, but as the door was now ash, I followed up by dousing it in water.

Inside lay baby, second-generation Elysian Beasts. They all seemed scared. Scared of their captors– but moreso of me. Some said they could tell what kind of a person a human was, how strong they'd grow to become simply by the smell of their soul. I wondered what sort of smell I gave off.

Most of the beasts escaped quickly, out of the door I had left wide open and back to where they had come from, deep in the forest. However, one remained, making its way over to me and licking my hand. Tongue coarse– the exact opposite of its fur.

A small, quadrupedal, white beast akin to a wolf, with black horns that curled towards the back of its head like tree branches. It stared at me, amber eyes wide for a moment, before letting out a sound that could only be described as cute.

“Kuu!”

The being hopped from the ground to my shoulder in a single bound, before clinging onto my shoulder like its life depended on it, as much as I tried to pull it off.

“Come on–” I muttered, exasperated, “You. Have. To. Go. Home–”

But despite my efforts, it held firm, claws digging into the sides of my shirt as I grumbled a quiet ‘whatever’, making my way outside of the cart, through the forest, and back to Meryll.

–

“So you released the beasts, but this little one refused to leave your side?” Meryll echoed my words for what felt like the thousandth time, the beast bouncing on her knee as she smiled drily.

I nodded, letting out a yawn, watching the beast. It seemed comfortable– despite the fact that a few hours ago, it couldn't be removed from me no matter how hard Meryll and I attempted to separate it from my clothing.

“It refuses to go anywhere without me, and it follows me wherever I go. It started crying when I left it outside and tried to go to the toilet–” I hissed, but Meryll cut me off.

“She,” Meryll confirmed. “And she needs a name.”

I let out a sigh. This was becoming more and more complicated than it needed to be, but as I stared at the beast in Meryll's hands, my heart softened somewhat. I suppose I could make an exception, eyes narrowing as memories I had wished to forget returned to the forefront of my mind.

Jasper.

My hands clenched, body trembling as I remembered everyone's bodies lying still, battered and broken from the betrayal. The way he beat me, the way his claws curled around Hua's throat. Burning her, scarring her, hurting her.

It would never happen again. Not now, not ever. I could never–

“—tlas.”

Meryll’s sharp voice awoke me, hand relaxing almost immediately as my chin raised, eyes focused on her now.

“I have come up with a name, since you seemed… occupied.”

“Which is?”

“Diana.” Divine.

This was followed by a sharp “Kuu!”, which I assumed meant that the newly-named Diana liked the name. She jumped, and with about as much grace as a flightless bird, landed in my lap.

My hands curled around her, stroking her fur as she ruffled it up, becoming much closer to a large, round fuzzball than whatever she had been before.

“Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, let's discuss your trials. The first trial will take place in a secret location– referred to as the “Trial by Flames”, and I expect you can tell what kind of Trial it will be. Normally, these trials would be completed by the Xīng heir to ascend to the throne, but they have been repurposed for your sake.”

I nodded.

“The Trial by Flames, I expect, will be a combat trial. More like ‘Trial by Death’,” I mumbled.

If only I could have predicted what was to come.