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003 - How my Life Became a Game
🕑 Added 2025-04-02 19:56:32 +0000 UTC“I don’t mind showing you, but isn’t there something you should say to me first?” Stella asked.
Her expression was serene, if somewhat sombre. Her deep green eyes rested on me, making me feel somewhat uncomfortable. So rarely had someone been able to sustain my gaze as she did, however weakened I must have seemed at the moment. There was untold strength in such a small frame.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I replied. “What is there for me to say?”
But it was then that I saw the marks I had left on her neck, a streak of red upon her white skin. Something strange happened to me. I began to feel guilt for what I had done, a feeling I had almost forgotten through years of bloodshed.
And yet, no matter how hard I tried, the words she sought couldn't escape my lips. I didn't even think there were words good enough to explain the conflict I felt, for I had no intentions to lie. I had no need to. I didn't regret my actions, only that someone so similar to her was their recipient.
Without a word I reached for the door, but she must have seen the hurt on my face, for after a sigh, she used her shoulder to support my weight. I should have felt repulsed at being touched, for my chest was bare, except for a row of red-stained bandages wrapped around it, but it wasn't so.
I looked down, only to see that my only clothes were tattered trousers one size too short, evidently not my own. Picking up on it, Stella snickered, saying, "When I found you, your clothes were nothing more than ashes, probably owing to your fall. You did burn brightly against the night sky, yet there isn't a single burn on your skin."
“And this seems normal to you?” I asked, not understanding how casual she could be about it.
Had I been in her place and not a Fallen Divine, I would have done everything in my power not to involve myself. Life seemed harsh enough for these siblings without caring for a stranger's circumstances.
“What can I do? The Goddess of Mercy teaches us to care for all living beings. Helping those in need is to abide by her will.”
"She asks much of you. Not many can be as devoted as she is," I said, but then noticed Stella was looking surprised, gazing at me as we walked.
“Something on my face?” I asked.
She hesitated, but then a soft smile appeared on her lips. She was far from a stunning beauty but was charming in a way. The strange colours of her hair and the contrast with her emerald eyes gave her an exotic feeling I hadn't seen much of, even in my time within the Divine Realm.
"Not at all," she finally replied. "I just didn't expect you to be familiar with the Goddess. Many feel that her blessing is wasted in this harsh world. Many would prefer to seek the Blessing of Justice or Righteousness. I've even heard that many would go as far as to seek the Blessing of Slaughter for themselves. Somehow, I can't help but pity them."
“You shouldn’t waste your time on them,” I said, my eyes cold. “Those who choose Slaughter of their own free will have no need of Mercy."
“What if Slaughter was the one to choose them?” she replied, looking rather sad. “We are only mortals, after all. Sometimes, survival is all that fills our minds, and Slaughter is our only escape. Isn't that when they would require Mercy most of all?"
Once again, this small mortal woman had spoken the exact words she once did. Physically, they couldn't be more different, yet the shape of their soul—the gentleness and strength found within—were almost identical. At this point, I wouldn't be surprised if she was chosen to be her avatar.
“Some men aren’t worthy of Mercy,” I said, my words dripping with more hostility than I anticipated.
Somehow, the image of Divine Justice flashed in my mind, rising above the fog that lingered over my memories. I couldn't help but think he was somehow responsible for my current predicament.
I forced myself through the weakness of my flesh toward the place I hoped would hold answers, aided by a warm woman much smaller than myself.
As I slowly limped through the forest surrounding their shack, I noticed someone following us. My eyes narrowed, yet she seemed to notice, for she put her warm hand on my shoulder.
"Ever since our parents left, Sirius has become much too overprotective," she sighed. "I'm supposed to be the one looking after him—being the older sister and all."
“You live here? Just the both of you?” I replied. “Surely, there must be a city you could relocate to. Wouldn’t it be more convenient?”
“Would we be here, living in a dilapidated shack in the middle of a forest, if we had the means?"
Sirius's voice dripped with contempt as he appeared behind me before overtaking the both of us. While I did notice his presence, I didn't do so until he was much closer than I anticipated. Either my senses had grown dull from my injuries, or Sirius was much better at stealth than I gave him credit for.
“Why not make money, then? Surely, someone of your skill must be in high demand.”
“And leave my sister alone?” he scoffed. “She already gets involved with all sorts of shady people even when I'm around. Imagine what it would be like if I were to leave her to her own devices. She’s all that I have left.”
I was stunned that a man so young could be so direct with his words. It had taken me so long to come to terms with what I truly wanted, usually only realizing once it was too late. Yet, this young man knew what was truly important. Although he seemed to be complaining about their situation, it mattered much less to him as long as he had his sister.
“Still, aren’t those blessed by the Goddess of Mercy also in high demand?” I asked. “As I recall, there should be something like a church dedicated to her where you could take refuge.”
“You’re really clueless, aren’t you?” the man said spitefully. “Sure, the church exists. Most are even decent people, but that church only survives through donations. That’d be no better than begging.”
“I don’t see why you’re so against it,” Stella sighed. “The Church of Mercy does good for the world. Had I the chance, I’d relish the opportunity to be part of it.”
“Never!” Sirius replied firmly.
I remained silent while Stella merely shrugged, not pressing any further. For my part, I wasn't too fond of organized religion. If that church indeed followed the Goddess's creed, then all the better, but I knew only too well what people were capable of. It didn't take much for corruption to take root in their hearts.
In this way, only the Pure Ones were genuinely incorruptible. This was also why my current situation gave me such a headache. I knew Justice was the reason why I lost my divinity—correction: It was stolen from me. And yet, I couldn't understand his motives.
Where was the justice in all this?
Was it merely because I embodied Slaughter and her Mercy?
Could it be that simple?
No matter the answer, it wouldn't quell the fires raging inside my heart. My desire to return to her and pay back what they were all owed kept me going.
“We’re here,” Stella said as we arrived at a small open clearing.
We were deep into the forest, far away from any settlements. We had to deviate much from the known paths to reach this place, treading unknown grounds. And yet, this place wasn't as wild as I expected. It felt picturesque even, with large, lush trees surrounding us on all sides and birds happily chirping all around us.
It would make for an idyllic painting if not for the scorched crater carved into the ground and the many trees that had been toppled, seemingly from my fall from Heaven.
Surprisingly, the damage was kept to a minimum. The ground was singed, yes—but only up to a few feet from the epicentre of the impact. As for the trees, they were mostly intact; the fire hadn’t reached them.
I didn’t know what I was hoping to find—maybe a way to lift the veil hanging over some of my most obscure memories, but all it achieved was to grant me more questions.
How did I survive?
Had I retained my divinity, such a fall to the mortal world wouldn't have left a mark, but it had been stripped away from me—at least the bulk of it. I felt some remnants of Slaughter lingering in my soul, not even something like a link, more like an echo, but this didn't come as a surprise.
No matter how much Justice wanted, there was nothing he could do to truly separate Slaughter from me—not unless I died. As long as I remained, the Blessing of Slaughter would remain incomplete, mine to regain.
But the question was: Should I?
What did she wish for by saving my life?
It had taken but a thought to recognize that only she could have saved my life.
Should I walk the same path again, knowing it would lead to the same ending?
A foolish question, I told myself.
My mind was already made up. No matter what justification Justice may have had—even if it truly was Justice—I had no intentions of letting this go unpunished. The only question remaining was How?
I sat on a broken tree trunk, lying flat on the ground. Exhausted from this simple trek through the woods. My body was weak—much weaker than it had ever been before. I couldn't remember the last time I felt so weakened.
I stared at the still smouldering crater, trying to remember something that eluded me while the siblings stood behind me—one as patient as the moon while the other as jittery as a morning breeze rustling through the leaves.
Then it came to me—something rising straight from my core, emerging from my newly reformed heart. I wondered how this was possible. Even for a Divinity, regenerating a missing organ wasn't a small matter. Mercy might have aided in my flight, but not even she could create such a miracle. At best, she could have only sustained my life for a moment, not without others interfering.
I focused on that feeling, and something extraordinary happened, but I could only sigh at the sight.
A panel appeared in my mind, sporting many descriptive features followed by numerical representations. No doubt a trick played upon me by the God of Games—at least, that was what he called himself. The Divine did recite his proper name once he was enthroned, but it was so convoluted that I couldn't bother to remember it.
Among the Divinities, he was indeed an anomaly.
He was but a newly enthroned Divinity, his powers still mostly unknown as the essence itself had only recently come into being. Unlike Slaughter, which arose at the advent of time itself, once the first glimmer of life touched the land, Games was a recent addition, especially since only now was someone deemed worthy of shouldering its essence.
Why involve himself? I asked myself.
Not only had I not seen him at the ceremony, I doubted he would even be interested. He was a whimsical man, true to his nature. To him, the world was a game, and he didn't even consider himself one of the players, merely something akin to the game master.
I once considered him a fool, but maybe there was more to him.
Was this situation a trigger for something more? I could only look closer at this panel to uncover his true intentions.
[Name—???????]
[Level—1/???]
[Profession—Warrior]
[Blessing—Slaughter (Partial)]
[HP—???/???][MP—???/???]
[STR—10][VIT—12][DEX—6]
[INT—4][WIS—6][LCK—1]
There was more, but it was obfuscated behind other obscure symbols I didn’t recognize. I could only stare in disbelief at the information I was provided, wondering when my life—and my misfortune—had become a game—of all things.
