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pitviperofdoom · 8 years ago

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BNHA Gods AU sneak peek

I’ve been teasing it lately, so I thought I’d post the prologue for you guys while I keep working up my momentum.

Enjoy!

No one recognized the falling star for what it was.

It was such a small thing, a light glinting briefly in the slate-gray sky. It did not go unnoticed—though the sky had scarcely changed in five years, many still cast their eyes upward, hoping desperately that the heavy veil of clouds might break, and the sun might move in the sky once more. And perhaps the glimmer in the gray brought a glimmer of faint hope to whoever had eyes quick enough to catch it, but in the end it came to nothing.

Night fell—or what passed for night, in a world where the sun never moved and the sky stayed overcast—and a storm closed in, darkening the world further. In storms like these, clouds and thunderheads gathered beneath the veil that protected the earth from the stagnant sun’s heat, and the darkness reminded mortals of what night used to look like.

Few humans would dare to walk alone in the woods in the midst of a storm, but there were always exceptions. As rain fell in sheets, soaking the trees and turning the ground to sludge, a single runaway trudged through the cold.

He was a mere child, thin and ragged, with one side of his face swathed in wet bandages. He walked through the woods half-blind, soaked and shivering beneath an old cloak that he’d hacked shorter to fit him. At some point he had lost his shoes, though his mind was too muddied to remember when and how. Shelter was the only thing he could focus on—he needed a safe, dry place to rest. Exhaustion dragged at him, but he could not sleep. Not yet. Not out in the open and poorly armed.

And besides, if he slept then he would have to speak with someone that he never wanted to see again.

Light in the distance caught his attention, and he froze where he was, hand straying to the single dagger he carried at his side. Rainwater dripping down his right arm began to freeze, while steam hissed as it rose from his left. The boy breathed deeply and slowly, calming himself. He could see his breath in the air, and beyond it the faintly flickering light.

It could be anything, in these woods. Ghost lights, foxfire, will-o’-the-wisps. Desperate mortal bandits. If he followed, then it might lead him into danger.

Or, it could be other travelers. Safety. Warmth.

He kept his hand on the hilt of his knife, and walked toward it.

Careful watching assured him that the light was neither moving further away as he approached, nor luring him toward anything. As he neared it, it dimmed to a soft glow, before it finally faded to nothing at his approach. The boy came to a halt in a tiny, wet glade, only a stone’s throw away from a towering oak whose branches were nearly enough to block the rain. The underbrush was gone, cleared away in a circular, almost concave patch of bare earth. At the very center, a body lay crumpled and motionless in the mud.

After a moment’s hesitation, the boy stepped closer and crouched by the still figure. Their cloth was plain, hardly damaged by whatever trouble had led to this. Beneath the mud and rain, the boy could recognize a good cloak, thick and sturdy and finely made.

Reaching out, he brushed his fingers against their shoulder. The wet cloth was warm to the touch, and the figure stirred and rose.

The boy stepped back hastily, knuckles white as he gripped the dagger. With a wordless groan, the person—a man—rose to a crouch and lifted his head to look at him. Muddied golden hair fell over his face, and his sodden clothes clung to him.

“Owch,” the man said quietly. “Oh dear. That won’t do at all.” There was a flash of light, a burst of sensation that brought an itch to the boy’s nose, and the mud and water sloughed off of the bedraggled man as if repelled. Dark, shadowed eyes stared blearily at him, and in the faint glow of magic, the boy saw how gaunt the face was.

The man sat up with another soft groan and looked down at himself. Now that he wasn’t lying on the ground and covered in a drenched cloak, the boy could see that he was not merely thin, but nearly skeletal.

“Ah.” The man lifted his arm and stared at it, running his spidery fingers over the sharp angles of bone poking through skin. “That wasn’t supposed to happen,” he said, half to himself. “But… better than it could have been, I suppose.” He lowered his arm, and looked up to the silent boy again. A smile spread across his face, warm and reassuring in the midst of a storm. “Well. Hello there, little one. You aren’t all alone out here, are you?” The man glanced around, as if noticing for the first time that there was no one else around. “What is your name?”

The boy was silent for a moment. “I don’t give my name to people I don’t know,” he said. “Especially someone who asks without offering his first.” His eyes flickered around again, taking in the broken branch and the shallow impression in the earth. “Who are you?”

“No one important. I am merely a simple traveler who—” The man stopped talking then, because he found the tip of the boy’s dagger tickling his throat. Around them, the cold air dropped even further in temperature until the nearest raindrops froze solid before they hit the ground.

“I didn’t ask you what you were,” the boy said. The hand holding the knife was steady, his single visible eye cold and flat as a river pebble. “I already know what you are, so there’s no point in lying. But who are you? What are you doing here? Did—”

The man’s hand closed lightly on his arm, neither gripping it nor trying to wrest the knife away. “Peace, my boy,” he said. “It’s all right. I apologize, I didn’t… mean to…” His voice trailed off, and he looked at the boy’s face and then further, deeper, and his shadowed eyes lit up. The placating reassurance on his face shifted to sudden surprise before his smile softened once more. “Oh. Oh, I see. Forgive me, my boy. It took me a moment to recognize what you were. How silly of me to try to fool you.”

The boy’s teeth ground, and the knife didn’t move from his throat. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“It… might be best if I didn’t,” the man admitted. “I have no wish to put you in danger. The less you know, the safer it will be.”

“I’m not safe anyway,” the boy said. “I’ve never been safe.”

The man blinked in surprise, before answering hesitantly. “Then that’s all the more reason that I shouldn’t heap even more danger upon you.”

The boy hesitated a moment more, then finally took his knife back. “Fine.” He stepped away, tugging his arm out of the man’s loose grip. “Fine. I’m going, then. Please forget you saw me.”

“Where are you going, if I may ask?”

“Anywhere.” The boy paused. “Somewhere drier. If I can find it.”

“You’re exhausted.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You’ll catch your death out here.”

The boy’s flat stare didn’t change. “Plenty of things haven’t killed me before. This storm won’t, either.”

For a moment the man watched him, his sunken eyes unreadable. “I can shield myself from the cold and wet,” he said at length. “If you stay here and rest, I can do the same for you.” He got to his feet, and the boy tried not to stare when he saw how the man’s height stretched high above his own. “Lots of wicked beasts in these woods, I imagine. I promise you, they won’t dare come near me.”

Still the boy stared at him with a mistrustful eye. “Favors have a price,” he said. “What’s yours?”

“You’re standing in it,” the man told him. “This storm is my doing. Not intentional, I promise you, but the fault still lies with me. And you woke me before something less friendly found me sleeping. The least I can do is offer you shelter for the night.” He paused. “So to speak. I’m afraid I haven’t any food, though. I apologize for that.”

“I’m not hungry,” the boy lied.

“Fair enough.” The man spread his hands in invitation. “That is my offer. If you should refuse it, then… luck to you, my boy. And I apologize for the cold and rain.”

At first, the boy looked ready to turn and walk away into the storm. But then his icy stare wavered, and for just a split second he looked like what he was—a child lost in the woods, cold and wet and so very alone.

“A-all right.” His voice hardened again. “I accept. But I won’t sleep. I can’t sleep.”

The man gave him an odd look as he led him to the base of the oak. Another quick glow nearly escaped the boy’s attention, and the moment he stepped beneath the tangled branches, the heavy beat of rain stopped. The branches and foliage may as well have been a well-made roof, and the squish of mud beneath his feet turned to firm ground. His ragged clothes, along with everything beneath the oak’s reach, were suddenly dry.

“Well, either way, I can use the company,” the man said, as he seated himself comfortably in a hollow in the tree roots. He sat back, resting against the trunk. “But why won’t you sleep? If you don’t mind me saying, you look half-dead, my boy.”

“I don’t want to.” The boy sat down beside him, gathering his tatty cloak around him. He looked up at his companion, searching his face with one eye. “If you won’t tell me who you are, will you at least tell me why you’re here?”

“Well… I didn’t quite mean to come,” the man admitted. “But as long as I’m here, I suppose I’m looking for someone. As soon as this storm is past, I mean to find them.”

“Oh.”

“What about you, child? What are you doing out here, all alone?”

The boy drew his knees to his chest, making himself small. “I have to be alone,” he said. “It’s not safe around me, so I can’t stay in one place. You’ll probably be fine, though.” He fell silent, fidgeting a little. “You… know what I am, don’t you.”

“It’s as plain as I am, I think,” the man told him. “You’re very brave, to have made it this far on your own.”

“It’s not brave,” the boy said. “It doesn’t count if it’s the only thing I can do.”

“Of course it counts, my boy,” the man said, almost too softly to be heard over the rain falling beyond the tree. “Of course it counts.”

The boy took a deep breath and let it out. His head dipped, weighed down by exhaustion, but he forced it up again and shook it.

“Why do you fear sleep?” the man asked. “Is it nightmares?”

“No. Nightmares don’t bother me. Nightmares aren’t real.” The boy lowered his head to rest on his knees. “He doesn’t talk to me if I’m awake. I don’t have to see him. But he comes when I’m asleep, and I don’t want to see him right now, or ever.” Silence, broken only by rainfall and the occasional low rumble of distant thunder, passed between them. “Your… your parent, I presume,” the man said at last. There was a note of caution in his tone.

The boy nodded without raising his head.

A gaunt, spidery hand came to rest on the boy’s shoulder. “Sleep,” the man told him. “If anyone tries to disturb you, I’ll send them away.”

The child’s body went tense, and he looked up with desperation on his bandaged face. “You can’t,” he said, shaking his head furiously. “He’s strong, he’ll just ignore you and—”

“Child.” The other hand gently lifted the boy’s chin, and a pair of shadowed blue eyes caught his gaze and held it. “I will not be ignored. However strong your father is, I promise you. I am stronger.”

The boy stared into his eyes until the breath caught in his throat. Desperation gave way to recognition, then astonishment, then awe, and the smallest hint of fear. Tears welled up in his right eye, nearly overflowing. “Why,” the child whispered. “Why are you here? What do you want?”

“To help,” the man replied. “That is all I’ve ever wanted. This favor has no price. I want nothing from you. Will you accept?”

Slowly, the tears in his right eye spilled over. “I’m tired,” the boy whispered. “I’m so tired.”

“Then sleep, and I’ll make sure that tonight, at least, nothing and no one will disturb you.”

The boy fell asleep far too quickly, nestled against the stranger’s side in the shelter of the oak tree and the stranger’s cloak. For a while, the nameless man sat motionless and listened to the sound of the rain and the exhausted child’s steady breathing.

He felt it the moment it approached—a thread of power, reaching like an invisible hand toward the sleeping child. He tracked its path, as it curled through the air toward his small companion. When it came upon the boy, he reached out with a touch of his own power, and swatted it away like a thieving hand.

None of that, he thought sternly. He’s exhausted and frightened. For pity’s sake, leave him be.

The source of that reaching power reacted at first with anger, and then with gruff bafflement when recognition set in. So. You’re alive after all.

He thought he’d recognized the feel of that power. I suppose I am, Warbringer. No need to sound so disappointed.

The response was as close to humorless laughter as such methods of communication allowed. When are you coming back?

Not for a while yet. I have business in the mortal realm.

Business? His counterpart’s power flared hot with temper. Have you forgotten that there is a war going on? The King in the Shadows may have vanished, but his minions continue the fight. Your place is among us, you old fool.

The man laughed softly, shaking his head. Perhaps. But there are things I must attend to first. I can’t tell you all, but don’t worry, I won’t be idle. Tell the others that I still live. It may be some time before I make contact again.

He could almost hear a snort of disgust from the other. Very well. I suppose we’ll just have to manage.

Thank you, old friend, the man thought, and smiled when he felt the answering jolt of disgust. And Enji?

There was silence from the other. The presence had not vanished; it was merely waiting.

The man let his arm settle around the child sleeping against him, protecting him from the cold and the elements, and from things far greater and more deadly than either. When I do get back, and we have the chance to talk face to face? We will be having words.

Again, there was no answer. The presence melted away from his senses, leaving him alone with the rain and the darkness and the painfully young demigod curled up against his side.

“Oh, dear child, I wish I could take you with me,” he whispered. “But I’m afraid I would only lead you to your death, and besides—you have your own path. I hope one day your father sees that.”

The child slept on unaware, dreams undisturbed by the whims and words of gods.

#my hero academia #bnha divenire #fanfiction #tales from the pit

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