Everything for an ending

I can hardly remember how long it has been since I was blessed with divinity, and now this unassuming child has arrived to try and free me from it. The way she approached the throne you wouldn’t think she was a peasant, but the state of her made it seem likely. Sandals clinging on by whatever straps they had left, cloak stained and torn, dirt covering nearly every inch of her. I doubt she’d see the whites of her nails until next season. She couldn’t have been more than 20 years old, but she kept her eyes locked on mine as she marched determined down the great hall between rows of my guards, slamming their fists against their shields in rhythm. Her resolute footsteps quickened matching the cadence of their blows, as she made her way toward me. The thundering deafened when she reached the stairs to my throne. I prepared myself as she ascended, not just for what she came to do but for the scent she inevitably brought with her. I sat up straight, giving her my full attention, and swept my hand across the air between us to summon a table so she could begin her attempt. A sapling sprouted from the stone floor, my power growing and shaping it into a circular table. She certainly had never witnessed magic that could make stones grow as if they were trees, much less a stone tree craft itself into a table, but there was no change in her expression. Without a hint of wonder or awe, she glared, unflinching, directly into my eyes. She truly wanted to kill me.

“Welcome to these hallowed halls young one, have you come to make an attempt? It has been three years since the last, and if your spirit holds any influence I admit I am hopeful for your success.” This at least seemed to unbalance her, her expression softened and she blinked questioningly before resuming her piercing stare.

“I have, though I admit I did not think you would be so pleased at the possibility I may succeed.”

“Why would I not be? Why would I announce, to the ends of the world, that anyone who wishes may make an attempt on my life, unless that was what I sincerely hoped for?”

“The easiest way to tame a beast is to show them escape is impossible. I had assumed like most men showing how far you can piss was very important to you.”

The walls began to shake with my laughter. “I didn’t expect my request would be interpreted in that way, but that is a very wise observation. Usually the people who announce themselves before their attempt are more entertaining than those who try to end me unexpectedly, and I can see already that this pattern continues. Let’s get to it then, show me the tools of my end!” An impatient immortal being is a bit of a contradiction, but I can’t contain my excitement. This girl is more than she appears indeed! Most of the fools that come just try to stone me in my sleep, something is different this time I can feel it.

I have no idea if I can die, obviously I haven’t since becoming a god, but I have no idea of it is even possible. When I issued my challenge I included the things I thought would be needed. Something to cut me, and something to contain me. The first is obvious, not just anything can injure a god, it would need to be an object infused with the divine the same as I am. The second, less obvious, if my blood once spilled touches the earth it will always return and rebuild me. So a vessel is needed to catch my life blood as it spills, pull every drop of it out of me, and contain it.

She begins to pull the items from her pack and lay them upon the table, a small spike made of ivory at first glance but the longer I study it I notice it’s translucent and glowing a bright white light from within that doesn’t shine bright enough to illuminate beyond its form. Then a bowl made of the same material as the spike, but inside its sloped walls I see it’s stained in a disgusting gradient from deep scarlet near the rim to a dried sludge of midnight at the bottom. My disgust was apparent, but quickly replaced with surprise as she pulled out a third item, a blanket woven of thread and dried vines both fabrics with the same ethereal glow as the previous instruments. My confidence wavered as I opened my mouth to question the blanket.

“The blanket is a gift made by the ones who gave their lives in creation of the other two, they wished for you to have it to comfort you in the last moments of your long life.” She said cutting me off. Lifting the spike and bowl in her hands and offering them forward one at a time. “These were made by a village of monks that live around the highest peak on the earth. The blade is made from the rib of a monk that ascended the peak and fasted until death as close to the heavens as he could reach. His remains were left on the peak for a lifetime until I retrieved it. The bowl is made from the skull of the same monk, but when I brought it down from the peak every member of the village gave their life blood to it, letting it consume every inhabitant until the village was emptied.” That explains my revulsion to it, after consuming that many souls it may be able to hold mine as well, even a foot away I could feel it thirsting for my endless life. “My parents were from that village, they broke their vows for this attempt, and raised me for the task.” Her icy demeanor began to make a lot of sense now. To scale a mountain then collect the blood of everyone you’ve known into a skull is not a cheery chore for anyone, much less a child who’s entire life began to end mine.

I picked up the blanket and draped it over my legs with reverence “I knew these people well at one time, I thank them for this gift.” My early followers were the most fanatic. I did my best to guide them toward the light, but they would not stop proclaiming my greatness everywhere they went, eventually turning from evangelism to crusade in an attempt to subjugate all to my rule. To extinguish their escalating violence I preached to them of pacifism towards others, and charged them with inhabiting Heaven’s peak hoping that time basking in the light of the divine would enlighten them to the grace of free will. Unfortunately it seems that my actions have encouraged them to turn their war inwards instead of eliminating it. Another tally in the long list of mistakes made of well wishes. Maybe things would have turned out differently if I forced everyone I rule to obey, but I believe free will is the true beauty of humanity and perhaps this mistake will finally work in my favor and absolve me of my shame. I reached forward and took the blade from her hand gently guiding the other, still cupping the bowl, closer to me as I did. “Best to do the needful before it is needed, aye?” I take my hand back from hers and exhale in relief as the blade begins to slide across my palm. As I watch the skin separate, my life blood and the blade begin to sing quietly out into the halls as if harmonizing, celebrating, finally finding their equal. I lift my hand above the bowl clenching my fist to start the drips into the morbid vessel she brought. One drop brought two behind it, and the quiet drips quickly became a steady trickle, then a flow as the bowl drank deeply, but no matter how much entered, it never overflowed.

My life fading away, I sit back while a chill takes hold of my toes, the greatest wish of my long life finally realized. My biggest mistake. I clench my jaw in fury as I watch her lift the bowl to her lips, tilt her head back, and begin to drink. “NO!” I bellow, and attempt to push myself up from my seated position, but, as I look down I see that the blanket was no gift, but a cage. It had grown into my throne around me and crept up my body chaining me in place forcing me to watch in horror until the light leaves my eyes. Immediately upon realization of what she was doing I begin dissecting everything I could of done differently, should have done differently, to avoid this. I am a god. Everything I have worked, all the prosperity given and shared, catastrophe avoided or wrought, my unending life’s work will mean nothing if she takes my place!

Finally the sentimental false idol quieted and I could enjoy the sweet ecstasy of my triumph. My village did not give these things freely. I pried them free after they cast my family out. Thankfully, the crafting of these instruments had been set in motion long before my conception, and everything lay waiting for my ascension. Although my household was reluctant when I returned to add their blood to the well, I’m sure if they could see me now they would be proud. Finishing the last drops, I sat the bowl down and tried to focus on the feeling of power coursing through me, I didn’t want to forget any piece of this moment for the rest of my now eternal life. Where he failed I would not, ants don’t deserve free will. If the parasites had enough brains to actually think, they would arrive at the same conclusion. Gods know best. As I mulled over what I should do first, I felt an odd sensation building within me. As if I had swallowed a beehive and now a furious horde of bees were trying to sting their way out. I assumed the potion would be warm and comforting but it’s starting to feel closer to swallowing an inferno. The burning in my chest intensifies, and I realize something is terribly wrong. I could hear the song of the heavens now, as clear as my own voice, but there were others mixed in. Screaming, crying, yelling, the volume increased until my head felt as if it was splitting, were these the voices of my people? “No no NO NO NO THIS ISN’T RIGHT!” I sacrificed everything for this. I’m supposed to be a god!

“You never had anything to give.” His voice echoed in my mind. My body collapsing under it’s own weight bounces my head off the ground, and countless hands claw their way out of the stone beneath me to tear my body apart .