#tldr: ancient people were selfish assholes lol

[mallaacht]

The King and the Retainer

The little King was presented with a new member to the household by Dialga; a long standing servant to the God of Time who would now aid them in their duties.

A tall blond, human man of gentle bearing. That was what they thought, anyways. They read their soul and yes, much like other humans, there was sadness, melancholy, despair and desperation -- as was normal for this day and age of uncertainty and turmoil. However, there was also a conviction and kindness and they latched onto that with a smile.

"What's your name?" the godling had asked, curious to the new person in their life.

"My name is of no importance," he had replied, gently sidestepping the question. "I am, but your loyal servant, nothing more."

But he had become more. Someone who gave the child king advice, helping them understand the humans they reigned over. They learned of things that were both happy and sad; thanks to this man they truly became the paragon of humanity they were meant to be.

But, of course, as quickly as they learned, as wise as they had been blessed to be, they were still a child...

***

"My king, light of our kingdom...just what are you doing?" asked the retainer, tone resigned. He had long since gotten used to their odd little whims. They were supposed to be holding court today, but the godling had disappeared again, running off to their hideaway.

The child actually had the sense to look embarrassed, hiding something behind their back.

The retainer knew what it was, could sense what it was. Ah, time moved so quickly. Was it already that time of year already? Had spring come so fast; had yet another year passed without him realizing it? Still, he gave the child king a stern look, crossing his arms to show how displeased he was that the little king had shirked their duties.

...But that melted away quickly at the sight of shamed starry eyes downcasting themselves to the ground. He was weak when they looked so crestfallen. But only to this one; their twin could never successfully goad him into giving up the ghost. But perhaps it was because he had grown much closer to this godling, over the other.

It was a shame he could not love both so well.

"We'll keep this our little secret, then," he acquiesced, against his better judgment. Really, he should get rid of that egg before it hatched and caused no end of trouble. But the flow of time was surprisingly rigid at times; all things were meant to be, he believed.

As cruel as they were.

***

"Retainer?" Ah, yes. That was what they called him. So sweetly, shouting from across a grand hall to get his attention. Almost needy, yet so joyful at meeting him. Don't get too close, little godling, don't become too trusting. That is a lesson you must learn about humans. Don't trust us. Don't love us.

But he knew, that despite everything humanity did, they loved them and tried to help and guide them all regardless.

O sweet little king, light of their kingdom...

"Yes, my king?" he replied, smiling down at their liege.

"How come you do not age?" they asked. Another one of their millions of curious questions.

"Hmm...how come indeed?" he replied with a noncommittal hum.

***

War had descended upon the lands and conflicts arose more quickly than they could be quelled, yet his little king was an exemplary monarch in keeping everything calm and properly situated. But, of course, the people always asked for more. That was the nature of humans, unfortunately. To be greedy, to be always wanting, even if they were already comfortable and comforted after making poor choices that led to their own suffering.

Their king may have saved that disastrous Yveltal egg, nurturing it until it hatched, however, it was due to the superstitious and self serving nature of humans that required the godling to save that one single egg in the first place. Hunting Yveltal eggs in order to stave off ruin, keep away death; how stupid. The processes of nature were beyond the ken of normal humans, a lesson he learned all too harshly himself long ago...

How many years ago was it since that time....

Their king was shedding tears; bless their little heart, too human for the divine vessel that housed it. They wept for what they couldn't do, what they were limited to do. Their heart became more and more human as the days went on, which chained and limited them more and more. As if they were forgetting the miracles they could perform, the more blame was heaped upon them. Because, of course, humanity was never at fault. It was the fault of the gods who kept their distance and never did a thing.

Except the light of their kingdom, whose face they all knew and could approach to continually hurl insults and abuse, even though they still worked hard to protect these people.

And the worst was yet to come.

But he had remained by their side through it all, soothing the hurt, keeping the fire of hope alive. Keeping the spark in their eyes. Did they know they had such lovely, eyes filled with the stars of the cosmos. What a gift to be bestowed upon them by one of their brethren; the gods were so vain, making their creation to reflect upon themselves.

Their little king smiled through the sadness, as they were intended to do. They are nobility and bravery incarnate. The soul of courage meant to see humanity through its worst turmoils; the possibility of heroism and divinity in each human soul, if only they learned to think outside of themselves.

A little hand held their own as they overlooked the land together. Some places smoked, but from the ashes of ruin, soon life would spring again.

"Retainer?"

"Mm?"

"Will we always be together?"

"....."

"...Retainer?"

"....Forever and always. Even when you become the world's enemy, I will still ever be your retainer."

Not if, when. He'd slipped up, but their godling did not pick it up. Or if they did, chose to ignore it, simply gripping their fingers tighter.

They were still so small, so hopeful.

It was cruel what was happening to them. And before either of them knew it, the retainer swept up the little king into his arms.

"So do not cry, my king, light of our kingdom. Your heart will weep, and bleed for our people, but I will always be there to help you pick up the pieces."

They looked at him, assessing him. And he could feel the telltale touch of divinity brushing against his being, feeling his entire soul. Those fathomless eyes gauging and judging so deeply that it almost made him bristle, to demand they get out, but as soon as the feeling came it went away and they wrapped their little arms around his neck and clung onto him.

"Retainer, you're a bad liar. But that's okay, I will forgive your transgressions. You're only human."

The end was coming.

"Retainer, if I get into trouble, will you always come to help me?"

He smiled insincerely, to indulge the child. "But of course, that is my duty to you."

***

There was one cardinal law amongst the gods, one tenement that must not be broken: thou shalt not kill another god. This is the only 'sin' a deity could feasibly commit. The only thing that could stain them and ruin them. They could wipe out the whole world and it would not affect their minds; death was an inevitable thing for mortals. People suffer; it was hand-in-hand with existence, the other side of the coin people called happiness. How many times the coins flipped and landed on happiness or despair was often random, but was easily control by human hands.

And yet they still refused to take responsibility for their own actions.

The God of Death and War was allowed to be nurtured, the people spoke, so it was not their fault for their debauchery, hate and violence. Fools. Because they heard what had happened, they took it as a cover for their own sins, their own crimes, and piling them up upon one who could not sin.

Until...

They did not truly understand death. They were like the other gods, whose minds were beyond the natural understanding of mortals. When a mortal tried killing a true immortal, it just didn't work. Sometimes there was sport of it; the twins had been in tough situations where any normal man could be killed in the heat of battle.

But smiling, laughing, they would return home, covered in wounds, but still alive, still hopeful about the future.

However, this time he would dash their smiles.

They were talking about who would be the sacrifice, speaking as if it would not be so serious. It was another action of placating the masses as war, famine and plagues continued to run rampant across the land (not because of the twins, never the twins; always humans, those nasty, disgusting, horrible--)

They spoke about who it should be. They were serious, because matters of the state were always treated seriously, but they were not too worried. One of them needed to be taken to the sacrificial table, something created by the people. They had their own practices and beliefs -- offerings were made in this bloody manner very often. If the gods received their sacrifices, then surely they would be appeased and grant them boons.

The gods were already here, watching over them, but of course, because they looked like them, the people forgot that the divine twins were deities in their own right. Deities who were much too indulgent and forgiving.

Perhaps, this was retribution on the side of the betrayed godling who was put to the table and killed. Perhaps it all spiraled and the anger and malice of humankind became too big to handle, becoming its own living entity...

Whatever the case, he was the one who put the blade in their king's hand and gravely told them,

"This is your duty to fulfill for your people."

They did not cry. They did not respond. Just a resignation the second he finished his sentence. Or maybe, perhaps they finally peered deep enough into his soul to discern the truth.

They smiled at him, though. And a little hand reached up and petted his head, as he crouched there in front of the light of their kingdom, as if he needed to be the one to be comforted.

These were not tears, he told himself. It's just the rain that did not fall that day when the greatest sin was committed in the name of man.

***

They laid curled up, alone in bed. The other side which had used to house their sibling was devoid of their presence. Their heart twisted and ached as their hand stroked the spot where the other would be. It was cold and lonesome.

It hadn't been long since the burial, since the crow of adulation and cries towards the heavens of fervent prayers for blessings to befall them, for their sins to be cleansed in the blood of the sacrifice given to them.

They felt sick; the air was thick and nauseous, intolerable.

It would be so easily solved if they could simply forgive their own actions. What was one life in the grand scheme of things.

But it wasn't just one life, it was their other half. Like part of them had been cleaved away leaving them with a gaping wound, bleeding out, letting the infection in--

They told themselves to remain strong. That is what a king must be. They were tasked with this land and its people; to guide and care for them no matter the cost.

Even if they had to sin; even if they had to give up so much.

They gave their own flesh and blood up. They do not call the others kindred anymore; they are a kindred slayer now. That sin will follow them forever. What right did they have to call them family, when they could so easily sink a blade into the heart of one who loved them. Surely, there was no greater evil than that.

And so the air was thick with sin that was never washed away, never forgiven. And so, it brought more malice to them, that clung onto them, jabbing into their being like thousands of swords until, until...

...with no love or hope left to them, they were to be sacrificed, too, to the evils of the world.

***

"Ah, Retainer...you lied, didn't you?"