Alexamenos Worships Her God

The last time I remember leaving my shrine was during a war. Kings and warriors from miles around made me sacrifices and offerings of the highest order. Cattle were slaughtered at the feet of my shrine and burned along with bundles of sweet fruit. Daughters of great heroes pledged eternal virginity in exchange for victory in battle. Weapons were raised to the sky as thousands sang my name. I blessed their swords and their sails and carried them off to victory. Then, over time, over countless eons, I was forgotten.

A god’s power comes from the offerings made to them. I live only so long as I am remembered and I am nearly forgotten. Today I live only in children’s fantasy novels and loot-box-filled RPGs online (in which I wear scantily clad outfits and wield far too large a sword). I am a pop-culture icon in a sense, but this is not true reverence, this is not true worship, and this is not true belief. People almost remember me and almost is never enough. So I sit in my shrine, among the ruins of my great temple, and I watch the tourists and field trips take pictures and leave litter.

I watch, trapped behind marble, as I slowly fade away… at least, that’s what I did until she came. On a chilly autumn morning, a small yellow school bus arrived like usual and dozens of four year olds poured out. Great, I thought, another field trip. The children toddled in their sweaters, carrying lunch boxes and oversized backpacks, following their teacher who tried to explain my great importance to those who lived all those centuries ago. When the teacher spoke of my importance, my greatness, my power, I felt a surge run through me. A little acknowledgement can do wonders, but just as quickly as the surge came, it left when the teacher pronounced my name horribly wrong! She explained how great my temple had been before centuries of neglect and earthquakes had left it in ruins.

The teacher moved her group on to the next informational plaque, leaving behind my shrine as I sighed to myself, knowing I would never be free. But one of the children stayed behind and looked into the faded eyes of my statue, once covered in vibrant paint, now just dull white marble.

“Here you go, Mr. Statue,” she said, placing a small piece of candy at the base, “Sorry your house fell down,”

And that was the moment. That was when I felt a surge of power pulsing through me, a power I hadn’t felt in eons. This genuine, pure, selfless offering, this piece of candy from a little girl was enough to break my bonds. I emerged from the statue, though she couldn’t see me, and I blessed this child as the new High Priestess of my cult.

“Alex!” her teacher called, “Stay with the group,”

She ran off and I began plotting my revenge on the world that had forgotten me! I would see the cities I helped raise burn to the ground! The countries I made would crumble! I would rise again in eternal glory as the great- Wait, what was this? As I tried to ascend to the sky to begin my revenge upon the Earth, I was pulled toward the little girl, toward Alex. I hovered above her, confused.

Strange, I thought, but no matter. I tried again to leave her side, but I was stuck. And then it struck me. Alex was the only person in the entire world who genuinely believed in me. Centuries ago, when all the world knew my name, I could fly freely, go wherever I wanted, I existed in the minds of all, free to traverse as I saw fit. But now, with only one retainer, I was latched to her side. I was so close to freedom. So close, yet so far.

I realized that I hadn’t escaped my prison at all, now I had merely moved to a mobile one. But this was still an improvement. All I needed to do was teach Alex the ancient mysteries of my cult and she would spread the word of my grandeur through the world as my great apostle of darkness. Sure, it could take a few years, but I had waited this long! What was a few years more? I settled in for the long ride and began my epic plot!

Years flew by and eventually, Alex was nine. Her room changed from pink with pony posters and teddy bears to green with horse posters and even more teddy bears. My power dipped and weaned through the years, but I remained! She still believed in me, even if it was only in the deepest depths of her subconscious. I quickly grew to understand this modern world. Wars had been replaced by sports, the gods had been replaced by pop stars. The only thing that hadn’t changed was the politics. There were still great feuds and rivalries, like when Vicky G committed a grave offense by having her party on the same day as Vicky H’s.

In the summer of Alex’s ninth year, she started soccer, a strange form of combat that I was eager to become acquainted with. Alex excelled at the game, she was fast and precise, just what I had expected from the High Priest of my great cult. The season flew by quickly and few existed to challenge Alex on the soccer field. Few except for… Jessica.

Jessica was like a figure from the ancient tragedies. She and Alex had been friends since their earliest days, they went to the same kindergarten together, but Jessica betrayed Alex in the style of Brutus when she went to East Western Elementary School, while Alex went to West Eastern Elementary School, rivals as blood thirsty and fierce as the Greeks and Trojans. Jessica planned to join her elementary school’s soccer team in the coming fall and Alex planned to join her school’s. It promised to be an epic back and forth rivalry that the bards would sing of for ages to come.

But before this, they would have to face each other in the Regional Championship Junior Summer League Cup. I could only imagine the feelings of betrayal that must have been consuming poor Alex’s tiny heart as she played with her dolls, practiced her technique, went to piano lessons, watched movies, had a few sleep overs, and ate pizza bagels in the days leading up to the showdown. She put on a brave face, even calling Jessica to gossip about how Slick Reggie had left their favorite band to strike on his own as a solo artist. But as they talked on the phone, laughing with their feet in the air, I could feel the immense betrayal in Alex’s heart and I would not let my devoted retainer be humiliated.

On the day of the match, I summoned what little power I still had and I vanquished Alex’s foe. I struck Jessica down in the only way I knew how… by making her trip over a root before the game so that she would have to sit out. Without their greatest warrior, Jessica’s team was easily defeated by my Alex. In my time, a Hero in Alex’s position would have struck Jessica down in that moment of opportunity, but, continuing to surprise me, Alex showed mercy. After the game, she invited Jessica over to watch movies and have pizza.

I was shocked by the mercy, moved by the show of friendship after such an egregious betrayal. How had I become so worthy to possess such a heroic and true retainer as Alex? It is not often that a mortal can move their patron god in such a way. In that moment of true heroic mercy and compassion, I abandoned my plans to burn the world which had forgotten me. You see, if Alex could forgive Jessica for going to a different elementary school, then perhaps I could forgive the world. That day, Alex became my teacher in a way, and I was proud to be her patron god.

As years continued to pass, Alex turned sixteen. I had greatly lost my powers over the years, as Alex’s subconscious pushed me deeper into her mind, but still I hung on, proof that her mercy was genuine and pure. Alex flourished throughout High School and won many victories on the soccer field. But it was in the winter of this year that she would face her greatest challenge, the challenge that has brought down many heroes, many kings, and even many gods, the challenge… of a first date!

But Alex would not be alone! I would defend my loyal maiden with any might I could muster against this suspicious “Trent” figure who wanted to take Alex, my Alex, to a film. The audacity that this boy had! The offense! Who was this Trent? He did not have victories on the battlefield like Alex did! He was not a master scholar as she was! Surely he was unworthy to bask in the glory of our eternal light, to join in our cult of- Oh! He plays guitar! He is a bard! I was mistaken, you see, this Trent did not intend to surpass Alex in her glory, he intended to record her greatness in song and spread it through the world!

Alex was eager that night as she prepared for her courtship with the bard, Trent. She braided her hair and even wore her finest ornaments. After her father dropped us off at the film, we waited. And waited. And waited… as the snow fell and the hour grew late… until we realized the horrible truth… Trent wasn’t coming.

The blasphemy! The betrayal! My poor Alex had fallen victim to another classical trope of ancient drama. Oh the pain! Oh the heartache! But I would not let my maiden be struck by such tragedy. I would avenge her on this rebel bard! I summoned more of my power, from deep within my own heart I struck at Trent! I focused my mythical eye and found him, across town, hanging out with his friends in some dingy basement, singing songs to another girl. How dare he stand up Alex! I exacted my revenge in a way truly befitting a god of my stature. In my day, there was nothing people coveted more than their prized horses, their chariots, the symbols of their stature.

I found Trent’s chariot, his PT Cruiser, and I smashed its window with a nearby stone. Alex would never have to know, and her honor would be avenged.

I followed Alex through college. Through triumphs and through failures. Through heartbreak and victory. After college, my powers began to weaken more, I could no longer manifest, but it didn’t matter. I liked being with Alex now. I liked following her as she grew up, seeing what new things she would discover, what new people she would meet.

Eventually, I met my favorite of Alex’s people, her daughter. As Alex grew, so did her child. As the spawn of my High Priestess, Abby was under my protection as well. She never injured herself playing, she never caught cold or chicken pox. Things were well and happy in our little cult of mysteries. And then, one day, when Abby was four Alex took her to my shrine.

“I can’t explain it,” Alex told her child, “But when I was your age I came here and I have had good luck ever since,”

She handed Abby a piece of candy, the same kind she had left for me all of those decades ago. Abby waddled to the foot of my statue and looked up into my eyes. Alex told her,

“I want you to have the same luck that I’ve had, I want to know that as you grow you’ll always have someone on your side,”

Abby put the candy at the foot of my statue and I felt another surge of strength. I’m not sure if Alex or Abby thought much of me after that day, but I was always with them. And even now, as I watch over Abby’s own great grandchildren, I often look at the two little pieces of candy that my High Priest and her child left by my feet. In all of my immortal years, they taught me the value of a human life and to them I will always be grateful.