#tw: human sacrifice

[undead-merman]

Quetzalcoatl Barbatos with a sacrificed GN-Reader SFW

The Preparation

You weren't sure how you got here, but here you were. Bound, gagged, and bare to whoever had you. Sobbing and shaking as they held you. 

They spoke as if you were an object, talking about your sacrifice. They planned on bloodletting you till you could give no more. 

Even when listening in as they spoke around you, you didn't know what these people were motivated by. You could only assume. 

Still, you knew your end was coming and you could only be terrified. Your days numbered, but you had no idea of the number. Everything they touched you, you could only think the number was up. 

The Ceremony

It was when you were jerked and pulled away, feeling the tingling warmth of what you knew was the sun. You were thrown down on something cold, you jerked your back away from the cold surface but hands grabbed your hand and slammed it back down making your head clack against stone. 

You could feel your blood drip down from your skull, slowly cascading down. But there was also some fluttering as well as soft tickling. Feathers, or tiny insect legs fluttering around and crawling lightly on your skin. But your head was too busy spinning and throbbing to care. 

You thought you could hear those voices but your ears started ringing at the feeling of something sharp pressing into your chest. A sudden gust enough to nearly blow you off whatever stone you were on. And something wrapped around your middle. 

You couldn’t even take a breath before it felt like your organs dropped out of your body with the sudden upward thrust. Your neck instantly got whiplashed, and suddenly you were out just from the force alone. 

You woke up on something plush and soft, and not only that, but you could see! 

The room around you was marvelous, architecture from history books, tapestry with beautiful eye-catching colors and you were laying on the softest pillow, though this pillow was a massive fit for something three times your size. 

It's only when you stood up, did something from within moved, and you realized some of the feather and patterned tapestry were that of a creature who rose from where it was settled on another pillow. 

A snake man, legs like that of a snake, but with large wings as big as you with the colors of the rainbow. Even in the low candle light of the room they shimmered and left you staring in awe. 

He smiled, a toothy grin with a huge pair of teeth. "Worry not, I'm not here to hurt you. I know the ones who brought you here had but you're safe from them now." 

Should you panic, he leaves you alone, standing up on his long tail and slithering out, a swarm of colorful butterflies trailing behind him and a few hummingbirds to come curiously look at you before following. 

If not, he still gives you space. A smile and a pat on your healed but sore head. 

When you're ready, calmed down and focused he sits down with you once again. The colors around him shifting and his setting loose the dozens of fluttering creatures. 

He tells you that he is a God, a God from a civilization long ago. One that sacrificed. But he does not want them anymore. As a God he's been happy to be prayed to, and nowadays he can live a comfortable life without all the blood. Though it seems some humans are still out there in hope for power and blessings. 

And as a sacrifice you cannot leave his domain. It's a sad truth, but he promises to let you live a full and happy existence. 

Life as an Offering

His domain is filled as a city and beyond. The streets are lively and filled with sunshine and flowers, as well as trillions of butterflies and hummingbirds. 

While you don't speak the same language as most of them, they seem happy and eager to welcome you. 

Barbatos as you learned he's now called, is a man who enjoys quiet but loves to teach. So if you ask him to learn the language of most of the people around here he's happy to take you in. 

Warm days in the sunshine with delicious food. It's paradise, it truly is. A colorful place where Barbatos allows rain, not because the plants need it, but for the people to dance in its puddles and its refreshing feeling on your skin. 

But even during it all, you can't see the outside world, if you ask there's no way to contact your loved ones. 

Should you feel lost, or even hopeless Barbatos assures you his domain is as real as the outside world. He wants to help you find a place. 

It doesn't matter if it's at a bakery or alone as you study, or even by his side as a friend, he's happy your life is here with him now. You're a pleasant soul. 

I take requests at anytime, Take care - Stay spooky

[starrypeeps-headcanons]

Unhinged fucking idea of Marx and Zan getting along over generic doomsday ideas. But only that. Outside of that they would attempt to kill each other for sacrifice.

[willowgast]

'we're better than you because we have better taste in human sacrifice' stellar logic from medieval iceland (from kristni saga, source here, give it a read, it's good fun)

alt text:

The heathens then held a well-attended meeting and made a decision to sacrifice two people from each Quarter, and called on the heathen gods not to let Christianity spread throughout the country.

Gizurr and Hjalti held another meeting with the Christians, and they said that they also wished to hold a sacrifice of as many people as the heathens. They said this:

'Heathens sacrifice the worst people, and push them over cliffs and crags, but we shall make our selection on the basis of people’s virtues and call it a victory offering to our Lord Jesus Christ. We must therefore live better lives and be more careful to avoid sin than before, and Gizurr and I will come forward as the victory offering for our Quarter.'

[princesssarisa]

This is an amazing interpretation, and while it's not the only reading possible, it does make sense – especially in versions where Artemis spares Iphigenia's life at the last moment and spirits her away.

It deserves to be seen more often.

in middle school during my Intense Greek Mythology Phase, Artemis was, as you can likely guess, my best girl. Iphigenia was my OTHER best girl. Yes at the same time.

The story of Iphigenia always gets to me when it's not presented as a story of Artemis being capricious and having arbitrary rules about where you can and can't hunt, but instead, making a point about war.

Artemis was, among other things--patron of hunting, wild places, the moon, singlehood--the protector of young girls. That's a really important aspect she was worshipped as: she protected girls and young women. But she was the one who demanded Agamemnon sacrifice his daughter in order for his fleet to be able to sail on for Troy.

There's no contradiction, though, when it's framed as, Artemis making Agamemnon face what he’s doing to the women and children of Troy. His children are not in danger. His son will not be thrown off the ramparts, his daughters will not be taken captive as sex slaves and dragged off to foreign lands, his wife will not have to watch her husband and brothers and children killed. Yet this is what he’s sailing off to Troy to inevitably do. That’s what happens in war. He’s going to go kill other people’s daughters; can he stand to do that to his own? As long as the answer is no—he can kill other people’s children, but not his own—he can’t sail off to war.

Which casts Artemis is a fascinating light, compared to the other gods of the Trojan War. The Trojan War is really a squabble of pride and insults within the Olympian family; Eris decided to cause problems on purpose, leaving Aphrodite smug and Hera and Athena snubbed, and all of this was kinda Zeus’s fault in the first place for not being able to keep it in his pants. And out of this fight mortal men were their game pieces and mortal cities their prizes in restoring their pride. And if hundreds of people die and hundred more lives are ruined, well, that’s what happens when gods fight. Mortals pay the price for gods’ whims and the gods move on in time and the mortals don’t and that’s how it is.

And women especially—Zeus wanted Leda, so he took her. Paris wanted Helen, so he took her. There’s a reason “the Trojan women” even since ancient times were the emblems of victims of a war they never wanted, never asked for, and never had a say in choosing, but was brought down on their heads anyway.

Artemis, in the way of gods, is still acting through human proxies. But it seems notable to me to cast her as the one god to look at the destruction the war is about to wreak on people, and challenge Agamemnon: are you ready to kill innocents? Kill children? Destroy families, leave grieving wives and mothers? Are you? Prove it.

It reminds me of that idea about nuclear codes, the concept of implanting the key in the heart of one of the Oval Office staffers who holds the briefcase, so the president would have to stab a man with a knife to get the key to launch the nukes. “That’s horrible!,” it’s said the response was. “If he had to do that, he might never press the button!” And it’s interesting to see Artemis offering Agamemnon the same choice. You want to burn Troy? Kill your own daughter first. Show me you understand what it means that you’re about to do.

[whereserpentswalk]

You were born to be a sacrifice. When you first exited your mothers womb the oracles decided that would be your fate. They tattooed your hands and forehead so everyone would know.

When you turn twenty, they'll take you to the church, and they'll set you on fire. And then when your body is burned they'll give your ashes for the angels, and the angels and saints will be proud, and bless your community and family with great riches. Or at least that's what they say.

When you were young it didn't seem to mean anything that you were born to die young. Nobody cared, they just saw you as another kid. But it was always there. Adults would ask other kids what they wanted to be when they grew up, but they'd ask you what you would do once you were a ruler in the court of heaven. They'd tell other kids about marriage and sex and having children, but for you that would just be for other people, you'd die a virgin.

And at a certain age, you were removed from school. Because they said you wouldn't need it. That you shouldn't be wasting your time on such things. And you didn't understand, but you understood that all your freinds were upset that they wouldn't see you anymore. Not as much at least. And people talked about you so much differently from then on. You weren't complimented as strong, or as smart, or as ambitious, you were pretty, and pure, and brave, and dutiful. And everyone talked about how proud they were of you, how wonderful it was that you were going to die for them.

They were so nice to you. They gave you so many gifts and jewelry. You got to spend all day inside playing video games, and you got the best toys and got to go to movies and plays when you wanted to. Soldiers in power armor would bow when they saw you, and robots and cyborgs would turn off their lights. And you sat at a special place in church, and the clothing you wore was diffrent then everyone else's. And people talked about how wonderful you were, and how pretty you were, and how much they loved having you when they knew you wouldn't be on this world for long. And they were so proud of you when they showed you the platinum clothing you would wear on the day of your sacrifice. And you didn't understand why but all of the compliments sounded sad.

As you grew older things changed. The other children went through puberty, but you didn't, they gave you surgery to prevent it, ans told you how pure you were for not producing blood or seed. And you were old enough to understand that you would die, that you would burn, and it would hurt, and that nobody really knew for sure what happened after peopled died. And you saw a sacrifice, and saw the pain they were in, and there weren't any angels, there were only priests watching and chanting, and the smell of burning skin.

Your parents and family started to care much more how you behave. To make sure you're polite. To make sure you're a good sacrifice, who the angels will like. And meanwhile while all your other freinds are going to college, and talking about becoming artists, or starship pilots, or scientists, you know you'll only ever have one ending. But still, everyone loves you, and you don't have responsibilities, but still sometimes you think about how much diffrent life would be if you were born differently.

You've started meeting people who've left the faith, or people who didn't grow up in it, people who believe in diffrent religions or in no religion at all. And your heaven seems less and less certain every day. According to imperial law you're allowed to be sacrificed, but if you choose not to they can't force you. But if you choose not to you can never be a part of your faith again, and your family will be disappointed in you forever. All your family and community, everyone who you ever knew, will consider you a failure, a coward doomed to hell for not going through with what the cosmos planned for you. And all that pride and joy they felt about your fate would be replaced with anger that you never became what they were so happy and proud about you being. You don't think you believe in heaven anymore, but you still might choose to die, if it means they're proud... it's what you're raised to do, you don't know who you'll be if you choose to leave.

Better choose fast darling, it's only a few months away now. You don't want them to be upset.

[one-time-i-dreamt]

I got kidnapped by a cult and were going to use me as a human sacrifice, but instead of chanting something creepy they chanted the lyrics to Big Lizard by The Dead Milkmen.

[serickswrites]

Wait, what were you thinking?

Warnings: hostage situation, self sacrifice, human shield, gun, gun violence, rescue

"Wait!" Whumpee shouted as they rushed forward.

"Get down, Whumpee!" Caretaker hissed from behind the boxes where they had taken shelter. Bullets rained down around them as they crouched trying to get Whumpee's attention.

But Whumpee ignored them.

"Whumper," Whumpee called loudly as they strode forward, arms raised above their head. "I'll make you a deal!"

"Oh?" Whumper said as they stepped out from their own sheltered area. Caretaker still didn't have a clear shot that they could take, but soon they hopefully would.

"Yes," Whumpee said as they stopped out of Whumper's reach. "I'll...I'll go with you. I won't fight. I won't run. I'll go with you. If you let everyone else go."

"Whumpee, no!" Caretaker cried, but Whumpee ignored them.

"You would give yourself to me?" Whumper smiled. "So freely?"

"Yes, please. Just let everyone else go." Caretaker could see Whumpee was trembling.

Whumper moved suddenly, pulling Whumpee to their chest and pressing their gun to Whumpee's temple. "You may be willing to go with me, but the others won't let you go so easily, Whumpee."

"LET WHUMPEE GO!" Caretaker roared as they stood up and took aim at Whumper's head. They didn't have a clear shot. They could hear the rest of the team shouting and they could see Whumpee's lips moving, but couldn't hear Whumpee.

"Why would I let them go when you won't hurt me if I have them? They are the most precious little shield, don't you think?" They rubbed their cheek along Whumpee's hair. "So precious."

Caretaker opened their mouth to scream, but Whumpee was suddenly moving. They headbutted Whumper, twisting as they moved. The gun went off, but Whumpee kept moving, their elbow colliding with Whumper's jaw. Whumpee kept spinning around, their arm windmilling and pinning Whumper's own arms.

And before Caretaker could say anything else, Whumpee was standing over Whumper, gun in hand, their chest heaving. "Freeze," Whumpee panted.

"Whumpee! Whumpee!" Caretaker shouted. Had the bullet hit Whumpee?

Whumpee didn't respond as they stood over Whumper. "Whumpee, Whumpee say something!"

Whumpee didn't move until other team members had restrained Whumper. Caretaker came up beside Whumpee. Caretaker could see Whumpee wasn't bleeding. They hadn't been shot. Caretaker almost fainted with relief. They pulled Whumpee into a tight hug. "What were you thinking Whumpee? You could have been shot! You could have been killed."

Whumpee trembled in Caretaker's arms. "I...I wasn't thinking." Their arms slowly came up around Caretaker. "I just knew I couldn't let you get hurt. And so I just acted."

Caretaker pulled back, they could see the tears in their eyes mirrored in Whumpee's. "Don't do that. Ever. I need you. I need you to be alive, Whumpee."

Whumpee pulled Caretaker close. "And I need you to be alive, too, Caretaker."

[theunknownmasks]

His words were irritating Atem. He never wanted to sacrifice himself. He never wanted the position of power he was in but, he had no choice. His father told him it was his destiny..that the God's will it. He never wanted this at all but, he did it because he loved his father.

He wanted to make him proud.

Even with all that, the truth about Kul Elna had took a huge toll on his mind. He had no idea that his uncle had lied to his father to convince him to do this terrible act.

"I wasn't trying to upstage it. I had to protect Egypt from your mess. You almost murdered the entire world because of your grudge to my family. You could've just killed me. Killed the High Priests but, no....you made your choice to harm the whole world. I sacrificed myself to protect humanity from the darkness you were sending out into this world."

"Right, right. Of course, I'm not saying it was intentional...." Kul Elna wasn't his tragedy, the people weren't his kin, and all the sorrow and fury he felt over the village wasn't his own.

He'd use it as leverage regardless-- he saw just how deep this was starting to permeate under the other's skin. "But it is awfully convenient, isn't it? Your reign exposed for turning an entire village to molten gold, and the boy king upstages it all in the ultimate sacrifice. Quite the distraction."

[unnamed-proxy]

“Ways to keep your partner safe, a guide for the romantically inept”

“”We were gonna practice, he was teaching me ya know– showing me everything he knew about the instrument.”

He shook his head.

“I arrived late. Was caught up with something at the house– I should’ve left sooner—I should have known –”

His eyes squeezed shut painfully– something biting at the edges of his face.

He let out a shaky breath.

“Torn up he was. Could barely even recognize him and that thing–”

His hands clenched painfully.

Dragged him under– took us weeks to even find his body.”

I felt a chasm open in the bottom of my stomach, my eyes went wide and my skin felt cold.

“They closed up the whole beach after that, said cause it was a crime scene, but it’s been months now. They know the truth we all know the truth.”

Monty’s glare darkened. A bottomless panic started to seep into the peripherals of my vision.

“That fucking fish killed him.””

————

“Settling against him, a warmth blossomed between our bodies that was both familiar and comforting. His large hands wrapped around me, holding me close like a lifeline. I lightly traced the veins in his arms as I heard the soft breathing against my neck.

Something lingered though, just in the very back of my mind.

Just a seedling of a thought.

I tried not to think too much about how his arms wrapped around me, trapping me against the covers.

How it felt so similar to beastly waves, holding onto me and pulling me under.

No— I wasn’t thinking that.

I was cuddling with my boyfriend- like we always do. Something I never had a problem with before.

I loved Sun and nothing was going to change that.

…

…nothing…”

“Under The Surface” Chapter 12 by @ohno-the-sun

[nortess]

CHOOSE YOUR ◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️

[edennill]

interconnected young númenórean OCs:

oruzîr: native of romenna from a faithful family, loosely associated with the brotherhood. he's taken when random people are being picked off the streets in Romenna in retaliation for a joint assassination attempt on Sauron and Ar-Pharazon (the loyalists are filtered out, of course, but he's very much not) and killed-slash-sacrificed. I am not giving any details but, uh, it's not pleasant by any means because of the whole "collective punishment and deterrent against treason" facet.

he also becomes the basis of a lot of númenórean/gondor-arnorian folklore about dead people appearing to their kin in dreams (together with gorlim from the first age probably) because he does. more than once, and all with namo's permission, he's just waiting for his best friend to arrive in the halls and there are those whose spirits can be raised by the appearance of someone who died well and is now a given value of okay.

angrod: yes, his parents chose a random name from the histories, next question; on a day to day basis he goes by something adunaic. taken on the same day as his best friend and for the same reasons, killed a few days after him. one of the people oru did talk to in dreams, they leave the halls together.

ireth: oru's cousin and other best friend, born and raised somewhere beyond romenna. her family moved to pelargir a few years before the other was killed, because the situation in númenor was getting too bad for their liking and that's probably how she survived everything that happened. also talks with oru in a dream, raises a symbolical grave for him in her garden which becomes something of a local curiosity/chapelet in later days. her letters regarding the post-mortem conversation are probably the best preserved account of the whole idea. childhood friend to several members of the brotherhood.

dirên: youth engaged to avalêzrê, very deep in illegal activities. he is killed while leading a fugitive "traitor" to the coast.

khamil: dirên's younger brother, raised by him after their parents passed on from illness, 14 at time of death. in the absence of a dirên to question he is unfortunately arrested by the king's men and brought to the temple where in dire circumstances he manages not to reveal the names of any of his brother's co-conspirators. I feel guilty for killing him off because lil bro is the same age and I realised that's actually a kid when I put the two together.

avalêzrê: she's the unofficial leader of a group in romenna that calls itself the brotherhood for lack of a better name and consists of several "full-time" and several looser affiliated members. their goals are non-military, they mostly occupy themselves with the collection of medical and financial support, preservation of art and culture, as well as passing on messages for whoever among the faithful might have need such service.

tirithon: core member of the brotherhood. taken by sauron, he is unable to keep many of the others secret under interrogation. sacrificed soon after.

azgabar: friend of tirithon betrayed by him. he holds no grudge and forgives him in the halls before they go on.

azrathel: sole survivor of the brotherhood, former neighbour of oruzîr and angrod. she meets and becomes a friend of ireth after the downfall.

súrion: an acquaintance/loose friend of azrathel and one of the people who came up with the assassination plot. if he ever learns about the azrathel-ireth-oruzir connection it's going to be awkward, especially as he's probably going to meet ireth someday. ("your cousin kinda died instead of me, and tbh neither of us should have died but uh if anyone here committed treason it was not him and maybe I should have predicted the outcome")

[world-of-mummies]

Mummies of a woman with a female child of the Yampara culture, 11th century. Found in Naunaca Mojocoya, Bolivia.

This is a human sacrifice that was offered at every lunar eclipse to appease the moon god: the heart was taken from a healthy and a sick person while they were still alive)

[embrifyr]

the gods : the sacrifice of dionysus

oh ! gracefulness of the frenzy and death to the soberity ! oh ! lover of the maze and truth of the labyrinth ! hear this song and grant the safe keeping for generations and more ! oh ! how thankful to be ! the gracious god of frenzy and wine has left me, for my love for life had withstood his will, just as he had been with his. but oh ! lover of she who confuses ! has he truly wished to forsaken me for that of my holiness by destroying that of my will, for what I once wished and had ?

[westeroslive]

𝘈𝘙𝘊  𝘐𝘐,  𝖶𝖠𝖱  𝖥𝖮𝖱  𝖳𝖧𝖤  𝖣𝖠𝖶𝖭  :  𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘂𝗲.

the  oldest  child  of  the  once  great  valyrian  freehold  -  a  most  glorious  and  powerful  stronghold  filled  with  wealth  almost  as  golden  as  the  never  -  ending  sun  that  shines  upon  them.  volantis,  the  city  -  state,  that  was  never  united  in  the  essosi  empire  and  stands  strong  in  its  secluded  individuality  has  a  dreamlike  quality  in  their  hot  air,  their  nights  separated  from  days  through  daylight  alone  -  it  is  never  asleep  like  their  port.  sitting  on  the  throne,  guarding  their  influence,  are  the  scions  of  the  old  blood  ⸻  while  the  doom  caused  the  collapse  of  old  valyria,  its  descendants  still  wield  the  power  in  many  places.  behind  the  black  walls  of  eastern  volantis,  only  noble  families  hailing  from  the  lands  of  dragonriders  -  the  closest  to  the  valyrian  court  in  contemporary  existence,  not  even  essos  or  the  targaryens  compare  -  utter  commands  that  have  consequences  over  their  city.    

and  yet,  while  volantis'  old  blood  is  closer  to  the  true  legacy  of  old  valyria  -  with  their  rituals  and  prayers  to  the  old  gods  of  the  freehold,  these  noble  families  look  with  envy  to  the  targaryens  and  their  dragons  when  all  the  they  have  are  petrified  dragon  eggs.  the  volantenes  holding  court  in  their  ancient  palaces  feel  temper  heating  up  as  the  air  surrounding  them  as  they  watch  their  former  territories  thrive  under  the  emperor,  a  crimson  burning  to  overthrow  and  take  back  what  once  was  theirs.  

                                                                                        and  so  it  goes  ...

behind  the  black  walls,  thick  stone  isolating  the  old  blooded  aristocratic  families  from  the  other  noble  houses,  the  temple  dedicated  to  the  old  gods  of  valyria  -  the  holy  place  of  worship  -  prepares  the  final  steps  to  bring  forth  the  doom  of  house  targaryen  and  the  essosi  empire.  the  sweltering  heat  does  not  reach  into  the  heart  of  old  volantis,  and  still  the  air  is  heavy  with  something  unusual  -  phenomenally  ominous  but  promising  ...  magic  swirls  all  around  the  temple  ⸻  atmosphere  packed  as  it  enters  the  bodies  of  the  scions  of  old  blood  -  it  is  in  the  air  they  breathe.  darkness  reigns  as  only  the  flickering  candlelights  provide  a  faint  glow  -  the  fossilized  dragon  eggs,  three  distinct  colors:  onyx  black,  moonlight  silver  and  a  copper  bronze,  shimmer  with  their  scales  ⸺  the  hatchlings  inside  long  dead  turned  into  stone.  a  relic  from  the  past  -  the  cause  of  anguish  and  hostility  for  the  volantene.

all  it  takes  is  three  willing  children  of  the  old  blood  -  human  sacrifices  to  bring  forth  the  higher  mysteries  of  life  ⸻  blood  sorcery  to  awaken  the  dragon  eggs  and  bring  them  back  to  where  they  belong  -  soaring  high  in  the  sky  above  the  essosi  continent.  a  magical  ritual  that  takes  the  lives  of  three  nobles  with  the  blood  of  dragonriders  in  exchange  for  three  dragons  to  be  ridden  ⸻  the  start  of  something  new,  a  new  dawn  for  volantis  -  for  its  blood  of  old  valyria.  with  the  low  murmuring  chants  and  spells  in  the  background,  blood  of  each  sacrificial  lamb  gets  poured  over  their  designated  egg  ⸺  the  singing  becomes  louder  as  the  temple  heats  up,  nearly  as  scorching  as  the  sun  itself.  and  then  the  holy  site  is  in  flames  -  the  spectators  do  not  burn  as  the  fire  licks  their  skin  but  nothing  more  ...  in  the  midst  of  it  all,  the  shells  of  the  petrified  dragon  eggs  crack  ⸻  all  it  took  was  blood  magic  to  hatch  three  dragon  eggs,  the  rare  few  that  were  found  behind  the  black  walls  of  volantis.  it  was  naive  to  think  it  was  only  this  simple  -  that  harnessing  the  power  of  magic  would  listen  to  the  commands  of  nobles  who  lost  touch  with  it.  in  a  matter  of  days,  the  dragons  grew  larger  ⸺  full  -  sized  and  hard  to  contain  within  their  circles.

but  for  now,  volantene  nobility  controlled  three  dragons  that  could  conquer  kingdoms.

𝘈𝘙𝘊  𝘐𝘐,  𝖶𝖠𝖱  𝖥𝖮𝖱  𝖳𝖧𝖤  𝖣𝖠𝖶𝖭  :  𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿  𝗼𝗻𝗲.

citizens  of  the  yellow  city  raise  their  eyes  up  to  the  sky  ⸻  three  dragons,  the  first  seen  over  the  golden  pyramids  in  over  a  millenia,  seemed  more  like  a  mirage  than  a  threat.  so  the  whispers  from  their  sister  city  was  true,  the  wise  masters  muttered  solemnly  in  their  council,  that  dragonfire  of  old  valyria  had  brought  the  bay  to  heel  once  before;  for  the  king  of  mereen  had  himself  fallen  in  the  horrifyingly  short  siege.  the  wise  masters  of  yunkai  did  not  share  the  hubris  of  the  ill-fated  meereen  king,  and  hastily  opened  the  gates  to  their  pyramids  for  the  three  dragonriders  and  their  steeds  of  midnight,  moonlight,  and  copper.  if  the  masters  were  surprised  to  hear  the  volantene  accent  that  greeted  them,  their  smooth  faces  did  not  betray  it  to  be  so.  

the  eastern  cities  of  essos  had  fallen,  one  by  one,  in  shock  and  fear  of  the  mere  presence  of  dragons  that  certainly  did  not  venture  across  the  narrow  sea.  messengers  raced  across  the  dothraki  sea  in  their  thousands  ⸻  eager  to  take  leave  from  scorched  earth  to  find  answers  or  some  form  of  certainty,  for  what  was  the  use  of  sacrificing  one’s  freedom  to  an  emperor  if  not  for  some  form  of  protection?  but  the  few  riders  that  made  it  through  the  forest  of  qohor  were  met  with  mockery  and  ridicule.  the  peninsula  knew  that  only  house  targaryen  stood  upon  dragons  and  rule  over  the  lands  of  the  west  ⸻  a  feat  that  even  their  beloved  pentoshi  emperor  could  not  achieve  for  himself.  the  cries  of  griefstricken  yunkai’i  messengers  fell  upon  deaf  ears,  as  qohorik  ladies  gossiped  with  their  myrish  and  pentoshi  traders  of  the  scorned  imperial  princess,  and  the  younger  sister  who  had  stolen  her  dragon  groom.  yunkai’i  lordlings  prayed  to  the  gods  of  ghis  under  their  breaths,  for  perhaps  the  roars  of  three  dragons  could  swallow  the  singing  of  red  priests  —  and  the  night  fires  to  pale  in  comparison  to  the  sapphire  flames  of  midnight,  moonlight,  and  copper.  

                                                          and  fire  continued  to  rage  in  the  east.

prayers  to  the  old  gods  of  ghis  seemed  to  have  been  answered  in  a  fortnight,  but  not  in  the  way  that  the  yunkai’i  messengers  had  wished  for.  the  youngest  of  the  king  of  meereen’s  son  had  been  smuggled  past  the  heavily  guarded  walls  of  qohor,  and  as  the  story  goes,  the  words  of  a  young  princeling  weighed  far  more  than  those  of  terrified  tradesmen.  a  small  boy  of  ten  and  three,  with  dark  curls  and  sallow  cheeks,  stood  in  front  of  a  room  of  priests  of  the  black  goat  ⸻  tears  in  his  eyes  as  he  retold  the  story  of  his  father  riding  into  battle  in  order  to  defend  his  land  only  to  be  met  by  relentless  dragonfire.  princeling  spoke  of  three  dragons  of  the  colour  of  midnight,  moonlight,  and  copper  that  circled  the  pyramids  before  the  siege,  and  the  familiar  volantene  voices  that  had  demanded  for  a  meeting  with  the  king  from  atop  their  monstrous  steeds.  princes  from  houses  vaelaros,  vhassar,  and  qhaedar  ⸻  the  proudest  of  the  old  blood  ⸻  spoke  passionately  of  the  return  of  the  valyrian  empire,  and  their  rights  as  scions  of  their  forefathers.  however,  the  priests  looked  upon  the  young  prince  in  pity  —  no  doubt  traumatised  after  the  death  of  his  family,  had  entertwined  the  tale  of  balerion  the  black  dread,  vhagar,  and  meraxes,  as  they  descended  upon  westeros  under  the  command  of  the  conqueror.  poor  boy,  the  priests  murmured  after  little  prince  had  taken  his  leave,  in  the  midst  of  his  fiction  there  was  still  truth;  the  volantene  must  pay  for  their  insolence  at  the  emperor’s  court. 

a  grand  procession  marched  out  from  the  great  walls  of  qarth,  stopping  only  to  allow  the  young  prince  of  meereen  to  give  witness  to  the  conclave  of  the  bearded  priests  of  norvos.  unlike  their  qohorik  counterparts,  the  priests  grew  grim  at  the  mention  of  dragons,  although  they  do  not  raise  the  alarm  -  instead,  whisper  amongst  themselves  of  the  wrath  of  the  true  gods  against  the  pretenders  of  old  valyria.  no  doubt  believing  the  dragons  as  an  apparition  of  the  nine  hells  that  were  brought  forth  in  sin.  they  do  not  know  how  right  they  are.  still,  it  is  not  in  the  culture  of  the  norvoshi  to  influence  or  participate  in  the  dealings  of  sinners  outside  of  their  walls  ⸻  so  they  looked  upon  the  young  prince  with  pity  and  said  their  quiet  prayers,  although  they  do  not  say  a  word  in  support  even  as  he  leaves  their  hallowed  grounds.  

once  the  young  prince  arrived  within  the  walls  of  golden  pentos,  the  prince  regent  -  younger  brother  of  the  emperor  -  was  quick  to  act.  imperial  messengers  were  dispatched  across  the  lands  to  the  western  cities,  and  most  importantly,  the  youngest  of  the  emperor’s  siblings  was  placed  upon  the  swiftest  ship  of  the  imperial  navy  with  a  course  straight  to  king’s  landing.  the  mention  of  dragons  were  altogether  ignored,  for  the  imperial  prince  regent  was  of  the  same  mind  as  the  priests  of  qarth  ⸻   the  poor  child  is  to  be  consoled  for  his  troubles,  and  none  must  scare  him   by  accepting  his  strange  visions  of  living  dragons  as  true. 

there  was  no  grand  fanfare  or  welcoming  balls  as  the  emperor’s  brother  set  foot  upon  westerosi  soil  for  the  first  time,  but  instead,  a  direct  and  unwavering  path  to  the  essosi  quarters  within  the  red  keep.  it  only  took  one  short  conversation  between  the  emperor  and  his  brother  for  all  to  realise:  they  are  to  sail  home  at  dawn.

it  was  a  shame,  then,  for  if  they  only  were  to  look  up  at  the  stars,  they  would  see  three  winged  creatures  reflected  against  the  moon,  as  all  the  dragons  upon  the  dragonpit  dozed  on.

[whumpetywhump]

The Sign - Ep. 8

[minty-mumbles]

And the Universe Said I Love You (Ch. 2)

Summary: Late one summer night, a half fae child being hunted for their magical blood stumbled into the temple of the gods and claimed sanctuary. Years later, Hyrule is still living in the temple, working to keep it tidy and operating smoothly. And for some reason, the gods have taken a keen interest in them.

AN: Thank you to @breannasfluff for being a huge help with this chapter! I also have a list of the gods/ their domains at the end of this fic

TW: Child sacrifice is discussed in this chapter

(Read on AO3)

~~~

The temple always got eerily dark at night. After the worshippers had left and the sun went down, Hyrule would snuff out all the lanterns that hung along the walls. The only remaining light came from where the moon shone through the windows and the two torches outside Wild’s shrine room that burned with strange teal flames. Hyrule knew better than to try and snuff out the holy flames of the wild god. It wouldn’t work, and would only serve to irritate Wild. 

Back at the beginning of Hyrule’s stay in the temple, they’d been afraid to wander at night. That was before they’d been given a permanent position as the temple's tender, and they were simply a child looking for sanctuary. The temple at night had seemed dark and cold back then. It had been too strange, too foreign to see the halls silent and empty. 

During the nights, Hyrule would do their best to hide away in the windowless storeroom they’d claimed as their sleeping chamber. With no moonlight to illuminate the room, it had still been dark, but at least it hadn’t been the cavernous hallways that felt like they would swallow Hyrule whole.

Even after the gods had given Hyrule their job, they’d tried their best not to wander after the sun went down. They’d snuff out the lights as quickly as they could and scurry back to their room, which by then had been filled with a simple bed and chest to store their clothing.

Now, after two years of living and working in the temple, that uncomfortable feeling Hyrule got at night had long since faded. The darkness of the temple at night was comfortable, and the silence gave them time to reflect on the day. The nights were peaceful and serene, now, no longer haunted by bad memories. 

Even the cold flickering light of the Wild’s holy fire served to remind Hyrule that even if Wild- who Hyrule now considered a friend- preferred to remain out of the city, he was a constant presence in the temple just as the other gods were. 

When Hyrule couldn't sleep, they often took to wandering the halls. That was what they were doing tonight. It had been a slow day at the temple. Nothing exciting had happened and Hyrule hadn’t needed to do much physical work, so they weren’t tired yet. 

The wind was strong tonight, blowing in through the windows. It came from the north, and if Hyrule concentrated enough, they swore they could smell the scent of the Lost Woods carried on the breeze. They breathed in deeply, letting the familiar smell soothe away their worries.

‘Hyrule.’ The sound of someone’s voice startled them. Barring a few special rituals dedicated to Twilight, people didn’t come to the temple in the middle of the night. As it wasn’t the full moon or new moon tonight, they hadn’t expected anyone to be here. 

They whirled around, half expecting to see someone who had come to ask for sanctuary, just as they themself had. But no. It wasn’t even a Hylian- or any other kind of mortal. 

The figure that towered in front of them was monstrous in a beautiful kind of way. It would’ve been difficult to see them in the dim light, if not for the faint white glow that the figure emitted. 

Distantly, Hyrule noticed the blue flames of Wild’s torches spluttering and going out as the night wind picked up speed, blowing clouds over the moon. In response to the newfound darkness, the creature began to glow brighter, its shine lighting up the whole hallway.

The figure was tall, towering so far above Hyrule that its head nearly brushed the ceiling. It had two pairs of arms, each held neatly in front of the creature, folded as if in prayer. From the knees down, its legs gradually faded from tanned skin to white feathers, and instead of feet, the legs ended in the golden talons of a bird of prey. 

A large red bird of a species Hyrule didn’t recognize was perched atop the figure's head. Its wings were stretched forward, covering the majority of the figure’s face from Hyrule’s view. 

The bird tilted its head, eyes locked onto Hyrule as if it were inspecting them. They wondered, briefly, if the figure was seeing through the bird’s eyes instead of whatever was hidden beneath the bird's wings

The figure was clothed in draped pastel robes that were cinched at the waist with a belt of gold studded with opals. Around the figure’s knees, the fabric of the robes faded into swirling clouds, filling the hallway with a sweet-smelling mist. The belt wasn't the only piece of jewelry that adorned the figure. It was practically dripping in gold, with a thick gold band around its throat, and its ears adorned with delicate chains. Clutched in the bottom pair of its hands, a necklace with the symbol of the triforce swung slowly in the breeze.

Hyrule should have been frightened by such a creature appearing suddenly behind them, but they knew who this was. They’d never seen him appear in such a form, but they’d heard of it and seen drawings in books held in the ancient library that filled most of the second floor of the temple. 

This was Sky, appearing in a form usually reserved for when he showed himself at royal ceremonies or when he decided to bless someone personally. None of the gods had ever appeared before Hyrule like this, in a form that was so obviously Hylian yet not at the same time. Sometimes things seemed off about the forms they took, like Twilight’s eyes, which remained the eyes of a wolf no matter what shape he took. (And sometimes Twilight appeared as an animal, But an animal was much different than this)

Sky’s presence was oppressive and although Hyrule wasn’t afraid, they couldn’t help but take a stumbling step backwards.

Sky’s lips turned downward for a moment. Hyrule couldn’t figure out what the god was thinking without being able to see his eyes. The thought that they might’ve displeased Sky enough for him to appear like this before them sent a bolt of terror through their heart. 

‘Be Not Afraid.’ Sky’s mouth did not move as he spoke, but his voice rang through Hyrule's head like a bell.

���I’m not afraid.” Hyrule managed to speak without stuttering even as they lied. They knew that anyone else would have fallen to their knees in reverence by now. Their familiarity with the god was the only thing keeping them on their feet. 

Sky did not answer, but he continued to frown down at Hyrule. After a moment, Hyrule felt compelled to speak to fill the silence. 

“I just didn’t expect you- you're very large, that’s all.” Hyrule cringed. Why did they say that? Gods, they were an idiot. They didn’t even know why Sky was here, but they were already saying things that the god could very easily take offense to. 

At least they managed to stop themself from mentioning how unnatural it looked for something shaped like a Hylian to possess two pairs of arms and bird-like talons instead of feet, and that it also didn’t help that Hyrule couldn’t see their eyes which prevented them from gaining a better understanding of what the god was thinking. Saying that probably would not have gone over well, no matter how much Hyrule was in Sky’s good graces.

Sky tilted his head slowly as if considering something, and Hyrule waited with bated breath for him to make his next move. Their heart pounded as they gazed up at the gigantic figure, and their body remained tense as if they had any hope of outrunning the god.

Suddenly, a strong wind howled through the temple. It was fierce enough that Hyrule instinctively brought their arms up to cover their face, stumbling back another few steps. When the wind had died down, and they gained the courage to peek out from behind their arms, they saw that the towering figure of the god was gone, replaced by a much more reasonably sized person.

Sky was still tall, nearly seven feet, but he could no longer pick Hyrule up in one hand if he so desired. It did help Hyrule relax a little. The bird had shrunk too, and as Hyrule watched it seemed to come to life, withdrawing its wings from where they were stretched in front of Sky’s eyes and ruffling its feathers. 

The bird’s movement revealed Sky’s eyes. They were a piercing blue, the exact same shade as the morning sky on a clear summer’s day. His eyes held such fondness as he looked at Hyrule that the breath stuttered in their chest. 

Knowing that Sky wasn’t angry at them made the last bit of tension bleed out of Hyrule’s shoulders, but the affection shown just made them blush in embarrassment. Despite their embarrassment, they didn't dare turn their eyes away from the god.

In a burst of movement that drew Hyrule’s attention away from studying Sky’s face, the bird atop the god’s head took flight. As it flew, it seemed to shift, changing midair. Its size diminished so rapidly that for a moment Hyrule thought it was going to disappear completely, but by the time the bird landed on Sky’s shoulder, it had stopped shrinking. Its form was more familiar now. It looked like a little songbird, although Hyrule was still unable to identify its species. 

They realized that it must be Crimson, Sky’s.... pet? Hyrule had never asked what Crimson was exactly, but they knew that the bird was very precious to Sky. 

Sky reached up a hand to his shoulder, letting Crimson hop onto his fingers. He absently pet the top of the bird's head, all while continuing to stare at Hyrule. His gaze was no less affectionate than it was before, but now there was an undercurrent of contemplation. 

‘Hyrule, do you know how gods are made?’

The question that rang through their mind caught Hyrule completely off guard. That was one of the last things they would expect a god to ask them, let alone Sky after he showed up in such an imposing form. 

“No more than most mortals do. I-” Hyrule cut themself off, not knowing if Sky would want to hear the specifics. Sky tilted his head curiously, an action that made him look remarkably bird-like, and Hyrule felt compelled to continue. 

“You made most of them? Except for Wild and Wind. They used to be mortals, and you turned them into gods.” Hyrule hesitated to say anything more, as that was all the information they had on the subject. How gods were made was knowledge that had been kept away from the minds of mortals, and Hyrule had, for once, not been an exception in this. 

‘Do you know how I made Wind and Wild into Gods?’

Hyrule shakes his head slowly. Where was Sky going with this series of questions? Why was he here in the first place? Although Hyrule had told Sky they weren’t afraid, and Sky shrinking to a more reasonable size had elevated his more primal fears, Hyrule was still uneasy. What had prompted the god to appear to them in such a form?

 ‘The world is full of magic, Hyrule. Gods depend on that magic to survive. It is what makes us what we are. Sometimes, magic starts to build up in the world and when this happens I can, if I choose, create a godling. Something that is not a god yet, but has the potential to be.”

Hyrule knew their mouth was hanging open, but they couldn't help it. Why on earth was Sky telling them this?

A frown came over Sky’s face. Crimson chirped, nudging at Sky’s fingers, and attempting to comfort its master. ‘Godlings… they do not always survive long enough to become full-fledged gods.’ 

Hyrule sucked in a deep breath, surprised. They’d had no idea that gods could die. This was something deeply personal, more invasive than anything the gods had ever told them before. They reached out hesitantly, wanting to comfort the god, but thinking better of it at the last second and withdrawing their hand. “Sky, I’m so sorry. I never knew…”

Sky sent him a sad smile. ‘You have nothing to be sorry for. It is the way of things. One of these godlings was named Spirit. I intended for him to watch over the dead. He did not live long enough to even make his first physical form.’ 

For the first time since he had revealed his eyes, Sky broke eye contact with Hyule. He looked away, and Hyrule was horrified to see that tears were gathering in the god’s eyes. 

The entire hallway grew darker as the glow Sky emitted dimmed. Even the light from the moon outside seemed to weaken, as if Twilight had been listening to what Sky was saying and was also reliving the anguish of losing a sibling. 

Crimson screeched, flying off Sky’s fingers and disappearing out a window as the atmosphere grew more oppressive by the second. 

In a split-second decision, Hyrule moved forward, throwing his arms around Sky’s waist. They doubted they could offer much comfort to a god, but they couldn’t let someone who they thought of as a friend stand there crying from grief and not do anything.

Sky made a startled noise- still in that strange echo in Hyrule’s head that wasn’t truly speaking- before relaxing into the hug, and returning it. It was a bit awkward with Sky being two feet taller than Hyrule and having an extra set of arms, but Sky didn’t pull away so Hyrule didn’t either.

After a while, Sky’s glow returned to normal, and he drew back, so Hyrule followed his lead.  

‘You’re so sweet, Hyrule.’ Hyrule blushed.

Sky sighed, deciding to continue his story. “Spirit didn't have time to absorb much of the magic I had gathered for him. Soon after that was when we met Wind. He was such a sweet boy, so lively and mischievous. At first, he simply reminded us of Spirit, but as he grew, he quickly became his own person in our eyes, and the thought of losing yet another person we cared for so soon- We just couldn’t stand it. What happened to him is Wind’s tale to tell, but suffice to say we found out that gathered magic can also be fed to mortals to make them into godlings.”

It was strange to hear someone talk about magic as if it were a physical, tangible thing that could be eaten but Hyrule supposed, to a god, magic would be very different. “So after you figured that out, you met Wild, grew fond of him, and…” They tilted their head. 

Sky smiled. ‘And I made him a godling too, yes. I’m sure you already know most of the story of how he died. Wild is more open to speaking about it than Wind. I think mortals know the tale?’ 

Hyrule nodded, but they were growing more and more curious. “Why are you telling me this?” 

Sky didn’t respond, but continued to look down at them with soft eyes. Hyrule realized rather abruptly that during the course of their conversation, Sky’s eyes had shifted from a soft summer’s-day blue to a lovely pastel purple. 

The god sighed again, but this time, it was less heavy and more affectionate. Leaning down, Sky gently cupped Hyrule's cheek and smiled at them. His touch was gentle and warm, but his skin was rough with callouses covering his fingers. Hyrule couldn’t help but lean into the touch just slightly. 

Between one moment and the next, just as quickly as he had appeared, Sky was gone. In an instant, there was no trace of him anywhere. The moon was just as bright as it should be outside, and Wild’s torches were lit again as if they had never gone out.

The temple was silent once again. The only sound was the distant yells of people in town who had taken more than their share of ale. 

Later that night, Hyrule lay in their bed, ears pinned back in a show of discomfort as a headache pounded against their skull. Apparently, listening to the voice of a god echo inside your head for an extended period of time could be bad for you. Who knew?  

It didn’t escape Hyrule that Sky had never answered them when they’d asked why he’d told Hyrule all that he had. It didn’t make any sense. Why would Sky feel the need to offer up that information voluntarily? It wasn’t like Hyrule had asked him. Sky had just appeared in the middle of the night and told Hyrule of his own free will.

It didn’t make any sense. Why would Sky tell them about how mortals could become gods? That seemed like something that would be a carefully kept secret.

Hyrule’s swirling thoughts mixed with the throbbing pain in their skull until there weren’t any coherent thoughts left. They hovered on the brink of sleep, unable to rest while their brain still sent shockwaves of pain through their head. 

It could have been their imagination, but suddenly they feel a hand brushing their hair aside. 

A gentle palm feeling their forehead. 

A soft voice, and instant relief as the pain subsided all at once.

As they slipped out of consciousness, they could have sworn they heard a familiar voice softly singing a strange melody. 

The strange conversation with Sky didn’t leave their head for weeks. They don’t see Sky again for a while, and the absence of the god is more noticeable than Hyrule thought it would be. They missed seeing him around. When had Hyrule gotten so attached, they wondered?  

The other gods continued to visit, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but every so often Hyrule caught one of them shooting them a strange look when they thought Hyrule wasn't watching.

~~~

Not all weather could be attributed to the actions of a god. Most of it was simply due to nature acting the way it had been designed to act by the gods when they’d first created the rain and snow and sun. 

But even Hyrule was starting to suspect that this wasn’t a natural storm. The rain had been lashing fiercely against the sides of the temple since morning, and not a single person had been brave enough to venture out into the weather to come pray.

Never in their time living in Castle Town had Hyrule seen it rain so hard. Thunder seemed to echo through the temple every thirty seconds, and the downpour was unrelenting. Hyrule could hear it pounding on the roof of the temple from inside his small room.

Hyrule sat on their bed, a blanket spread over their lap, and a book laid open over that. Lit candles were scattered around their room, giving them enough light to read by. The book they were inspecting was one that was usually kept in the temple's library, but Hyrule hadn’t felt bad about squirreling it away to his room today. It wasn’t like there was anyone else there who would need it.

When Hyrule first came to the temple, they didn't know how to read. Their mother hadn’t seen any value in teaching them and hadn’t known Hylian letters anyways. Legend had been personally offended when he’d discovered this and had made it his mission to teach Hyrule how to read. After two years, Hyrule had advanced greatly. They were able to read most things without help now. 

The book spread across their lap was a collection of ancient fairy tales. It wasn’t the most engaging thing Hyrule had ever read. It had been written for a child to read and was simple in its word choice, but it was something to take their mind off the howling winds outside, so Hyrule couldn’t complain. 

They twitched as a crack of thunder echoed through the temple. Their eyes didn’t leave the page but they were no longer paying any attention to the words. That was the loudest thunder they’d heard from the storm so far. Hyrule wondered briefly if lightning had struck the temple itself. 

That would be a very bad omen.

Hyrule wondered which god was angry. Realistically, it could only be a few of them, only those who had domain over the sky and storms. Sky, perhaps, or Wind, maybe even Wild.

Right as Hyrule bought their attention back to the book on their lap, they became aware of a quiet dripping sound. Was there a leak in the roof? Hyrule frowned, twisting around to find the source of the noise.

What they saw startled them so badly that they let out a small yelp and slammed their book closed. 

A soulful-looking child stood behind them. He looked so bedraggled that Hyrule almost didn’t recognize him as Wind. 

He wasn't wearing the blue tunic he usually favored, instead dressed in the typical garb one would find in some of the poorer villages along the coast. The god was barefoot, not even wearing sandals. His golden hair was slicked down and turned a duller color from the water that plastered it to his head.  

Water dripped from Wind’s clothes and air, creating a pool at his feet which grew too quickly for the amount that was dripping off of him. His head was tilted down, and Hyrule couldn’t make out his face, but his skin had an unhealthy blue tinge to it. He looked like a drowned ghost, coming back to haunt the living.

Hyrule suppressed a shudder. Now they knew which god was causing the storm.

They waited patiently for Wind to speak, but minutes dragged by and Wind didn’t move his eyes up from the ground to look at them. 

After a while, Hyrule hesitantly set their book and blanket aside, slowly scooching their way off the bed. They planned to approach the god slowly, just in case, but the first step they took towards the god made Wind’s head snap up to face him.

Wind’s lips had a purple tinge to them, and his eyes were sunken in. Tears dripped continuously from his eyes, faster than any Hylian should be able to produce tears. 

Hyrule shivered. “Wind, I can't help you if I don't know what’s wrong.”

Wind stared at them soulfully for a moment, and Hyrule started to think he wasn’t going to say anything before the god spoke. “You can’t help. Not unless you're able to beat some sense into every single mortal who thinks that they know the will of the gods.” Wind's voice was quiet, but filled with boiling anger. 

His voice grew louder as he continued. “What gives them the right? What makes them think they know what I want!” The god gave a short, wordless yell, his hand flying up to tug on his hair. 

Instinctively, Hyrule reached out, gently trying to remove Wind’s hands from where they were tangled in his wet tresses. Tugging on his hair like that can’t feel pleasant, god or no. Wind allowed Hyrule to take his hands into theirs, but he didn’t look calmed in the slightest. Wind seemed to be working himself up into a true temper, and it made a sliver of fear appear in the back of Hyrule’s mind. 

They knew by now that Wind would never hurt them on purpose, but a god’s anger could be destructive. 

“When has that ever been okay? Why did no one stop her? Why, why, WHY?” Wind was screaming by the last word, and a chorus of thunder echoed from outside to accompany his cries. His anger had morphed into hurt.

Hyrule didn’t know what had happened, or who “she” was, but they could see it was time to do some damage control before Wind summoned a storm inside Hyrule’s bedroom and accidentally fried them with a lightning bolt.

With a sharp tug on Wind’s hands, Hyrule drew the young god into a hug starting a mantra of soft reassurances and soothing words. Wind, who wasn’t paying attention to Hyrule by this point, was taken off guard. He fell into the hug with a wheeze, his next yell stolen from him.

It took a while for Wind to calm, for water to stop pouring from his eyes, and for color to start to return to his skin, washing away the unhealthy pallor he’d had before. As Wind’s cries grew quieter so too did the storm outside, being reduced to a steady but much less forceful patter of rain on the Temple’s roof. Hyrule managed to draw Wind over to his bed and sat the both of them down, not minding how wet the god would make their blankets. 

When Wind has been reduced to quietly sniffling at irregular intervals, Hyrule finally felt like they could ask what happened. What could cause a god to become so upset? And why would he come to Hyrule for comfort instead of any of the other gods? It baffled them.

Hyrule asked, but Wind simply shook his head into Hyrule’s chest, obviously not wanting to speak about it. But by then, Hyrule's curiosity has been thoroughly roused, along with their concern and no small amount of protectiveness over the child clinging to them. 

Wind was a god. He could protect himself, and he certainly didn’t need protection from Hyrule. Knowing that didn’t soothe Hyrule’s anxieties. “Come on, you don’t have to say much, just let me know what’s going on, okay?”

Wind eventually pulled back from the embrace, wiping away the last of his tears. He looked much better than before, no longer looking like a dead body at least. He looked more like a sick child who fell in a puddle

Wind looked up at Hyrule with fresh tears welling in his eyes. “One of the fishing villages along the coast was going through a rough spot- the fishing was just getting worse and worse. People were going hungry. There was a woman, who had just given birth to a baby girl. The woman wasn’t… well. Something went wrong with her birth, and she nearly died. Wanted nothing to do with her daughter after that.”

Hyrule nodded along with the story but was no closer to understanding what had caused Wind to become so upset. It was a sad tale, yes, but it happened sometimes- mothers falling into agony, trapped in their own minds after they give birth. There must be more to the story than that if it made Wind so upset.

And indeed, Wind carried on. “When the famine started, she got it into her mind that we had sent her child to her as a test of some sort. She became convinced the only way to end the starvation was to kill the child. She waded out into the water and held her baby under until she stopped moving. She just- didn’t stop. And she kept praying to me the who- whole t- time.” 

Wind’s voice started hitching like he was about to cry again. “Everyone sa- aw her. There was a whole crowd there. No one stopped her. Why did no one stop her?” 

Despite the waver in Wind’s voice and his hitching breath, he didn’t start crying again. Instead, he simply leaned forward, burying his head in Hyrule’s chest and returning to their positions from earlier. He sounded so defeated.

“Oh,” was all Hyrule could force out. That was worse than he was expecting. They shuddered, suppressing the urge to make noise in reaction to that, but they were sure Wind could feel their shiver. 

When times got hard, people got desperate. If they got desperate enough, they would be willing to try anything to gain the gods’ favor, even Hylian sacrifice. It was illegal, of course, and doubly so if the victim was unwilling, but people still did it occasionally

But child sacrifice? That was beyond cruel, and even people who weren’t as well acquainted with the gods as Hyrule was would know they wouldn’t approve of that. Mentally, Hyrule offered up a prayer that the child’s soul would find peace.

“She will. I made sure of it.” Wind spoke, startling Hyrule when it seemed he had replied to their thoughts. Then they realized that was exactly what they’d done. Hyrule hadn’t directed the prayer to Wind specifically but the spirits of the dead, afterlife, and reincarnation was Wind’s purview. Of course he’d heard Hyrule’s prayer. 

“And the mother?” Hyrule inquired hesitantly. They couldn’t imagine that Wind had granted the woman’s prayer for more food, not after she had killed her child in Wind’s name. Especially not when he seemed so distressed by it.

“They killed her.” Wind spoke softly, and monotone, all emotions leaching out of his voice. 

Hyrule tightened their grip on Wind. They weren't surprised she was dead. Not really. The courts would never be kind to someone who killed their child, especially when it was indisputable that they had done it. Hylian justice was strict in that regard. 

“I didn’t save her.” Still, his voice was flat, unusual for the overly expressive god.

Hyrule was left floundering at that. “Ah, did you want to save her?” The woman had offered Wind a sacrifice, after all. Had Hyrule misunderstood why Wind was so upset? Maybe he had accepted the sacrifice, and he was upset the woman had been punished so severely.

The thought of Wind accepting Hylian sacrifices made Hyrule’s blood chill, and for a split second, Hyrule felt more fear than he ever had around Wind. They were also insignificant to the gods. Half fae they may be, but they were still mortal.

Wind shook his head into Hyrule’s chest. Relief flooded Hyrule, and they barely managed to keep their voice from shaking as they asked, “Then why are you upset?”

“Because I didn’t want to save her. I thought she deserved to die.” Wind looked up at Hyrule with wide mournful eyes. “Did she?” 

 It was as if he was waiting for Hyrule to cast judgment- as if Hyrule was in any position to judge a god for their actions, let alone their thoughts. When Hyrule didn’t speak one way or the other, Wind continued. “I should have stopped them, but I didn’t.” 

Wind sounded so defeated. “Why is murder the answer to murder? Why do Hylians take others' lives? We gave Hylians free will. We try not to interfere. But sometimes it just goes so badly… And to do things like that in our names, as if we told them to...” Wind trails off, seemingly at a loss for words. 

Hyrule could have said something about Hylian law listing death as a suitable punishment for the murder of a child, that by the judgment of a Hylian court, what had happened to the mother had been lawful. 

They didn’t, though. They were sure Wind was already well aware of that and didn’t need a reminder. 

Wind seemed to go slack in Hyrule’s arms, allowing them to support him. It was as if he was waiting for them to cast judgment- as if Hyrule was in any position to judge a god for their actions. When Hyrule didn’t speak one way or the other, Wind looked up at them. “She could have gotten help. She might have gotten better.” 

Hyrule wondered again why Wind had come to them for this. Why hadn’t he gone to one of the older gods? They would no doubt be better equipped to deal with this. But Wind hadn’t. He’d gone to Hyrule, so they would just have to help the best they could. “Maybe, but you can’t control what other people do.” Wind probably could but that wasn’t the point.

Neither of them spoke anymore after that, simply sitting on Hyrule’s bed in silence. Wind’s hiccups slowly pestered out until his breathing was even, and after a while, Hyrule realized he was asleep. It was strange- sleep seemed like the last thing a god would require but here they were, cradling a teenage god who was dead to the world. 

On the upside, Wind no longer looked like a sickly child who had fallen into a puddle. He looked more or less like himself again, even if he was rather damp. Paying no mind to the moisture soaking into their blankets, Hyrule laid Wind down so he would be more comfortable. Tucking him in, Hyrule hesitated, realizing this meant they would have nowhere to sleep. 

They considered it. Their bed would be big enough for both of them, yes, but it might be more cozy that was strictly comfortable. Shaking their head, Hyrule climbed into bed next to Wind. The boy had already cried in their embrace for at least an hour. Hyrule doubted he would mind them sleeping in the same bed.

Hyrule soon followed Wind into unconsciousness. When they woke in the morning Wind was already gone, but to Hyrule’s relief, when they stepped out of the temple, they found the morning had dawned bright and sunny. 

~~~

Hyrule had only stepped outside for a few moments to go to the market to get something to eat for lunch. They returned with a meat pie wrapped in wax paper and a few apples tucked into their basket. There was a pep in their step as they looked forward to finding a quiet place to take a break and eat lunch. 

Maybe they could head up to the roof? They thought about it as they entered the building, quickly bypassing all the shrine rooms as they headed towards the staircase in the back of the building. The roof of the temple was accessible by a small staircase tucked away in the back of the library on the second floor, but Hyrule was convinced that most people didn’t even know you could access the roof. They’d never seen anyone but themself and the gods up there

Hyrule spent a lot of time on the roof. It was a nice private place to take in some fresh air and get some sun, but they also spent time tending to the rooftop garden.

About a year and a half ago, when it had become obvious that Hyrule would be staying in the temple permanently, a large section of the rooftop had been transformed into a garden for them to tend to and harvest from.

Twilight had been the one to give Hyrule the garden, although Hyrule suspected that Time was also involved in the making of it. The god had woken them one early morning, demanding they accompany him to the rooftop. Hyrule, who at the time was much more cautious around the gods than they were now, had agreed hesitantly. 

They had worried slightly that Twilight was going to push them off the roof but followed him obediently up the staircase anyways. When they’d reached the top of the stairs, Hyrule was shocked to discover that the rooftop had been transformed overnight. There were now several large planting beds in the middle of the roof, each already filled with rich black soil. Twilight had handed them a shovel and a handful of seeds- both of which had appeared out of thin air- and instructed them to get to work. 

Twilight had handed them handful after handful of seeds and sprouts, all the while talking their ear off about proper growing techniques. It had slowly dawned on Hyrule that Twilight was expecting them to tend to this garden and harvest it when the time came. 

When they’d asked what the food was for, Twilight had looked at them like they’d grown a second head, and said “It’s for you, of course. Ya don’t think we expect you to live just off the salary we give ya, do ya?” At that, Twilight knelt down in the dirt next to Hyrule and helped them finish planting. 

So taking care of the garden had become part of their daily chores. The garden wasn’t large, nothing that would take Hyrule’s whole day to tend to, but it was nice to have something else to do besides clean.

Between the garden- which Hyrule suspected was producing more food than the amount of space allowed, but what did they know? They weren’t a farmer- and with the occasional rabbit or pheasant that Twilight or Wild would give him, Hyrule was less reliant on the markets for his food. 

After Wild had seen the garden for the first time, he’d perked up like an excited puppy. The next thing Hyrule knew, the roof also had a hearth, cooking pots, and a stack of firewood that never seemed to grow any smaller. Retroactively, Hyrule was grateful Wild had the foresight to give them a place to cook. The temple wasn’t designed to be lived in permanently and therefore lacked even a basic kitchen. 

(More often than not, Wild would take pity on them and cook for them. He said they were dismal at cooking, and Hyrule didn’t know enough about cooking to disagree.)

But some days, like today, Hyrule preferred to get out of the Temple and find something to eat in the marketplace. It's not like they lacked the money to do so. Twilight had said that he didn’t expect Hyrule to live off the money that the gods gave them, but in truth, Hyrule could easily do so. Some months he wasn’t even able to spend it all before he was given more.

Just as Hyrule reached the bottom of the stairs that led up to the second floor, their thoughts were abruptly cut off as a scream sounded from behind them. Someone was wailing in terror inside one of the shrine rooms. Hyrule turned on their heel and sprinted back in that direction.

A group of worshippers had already clustered around the door to Time’s shrine, so it was easy to locate where the scream had come from. People parted like water around a rock as Hyrule approached, recognizing him as the temple’s keeper and letting him through. Those who didn’t were grabbed by the people who stood next to them and hauled out of the way. Hyrule didn't spend any time reflecting on the authority they now held when it came to the temple and the gods, but it was definitely a weird feeling. 

Besides, it was probably less that the crowd respected them, and more likely that no one else wanted to be the first to enter the room. Firstly because whatever was that had caused the room’s inhabitant to scream like that couldn’t be good, and secondly because it was rude to enter a shrine while someone else was praying. Hyrule was mostly exempt from the second point, meaning it would be better to let them deal with the danger, whatever it was.

Before Hyrule could even reach the door, it burst open. A young man dressed in typical farmer’s garb came barreling out of the room in a flat sprint. The man was down the hall and out the door before any of the onlookers, including Hyrule, could get a word out.

The crowd around them murmured uneasily, but the sight eased Hyrule‘s worries a little. They’d been afraid that they might walk into the shrine to find a dead body. Thankfully, it seemed like that wouldn’t happen now.

The man had left the door to the shrine- a solid oak door carved with harvest motifs- open, not bothering to close it in his haste. It swung back and forth gently with the force the man had slammed it open with. Hyrule caught the door with a hand, steadying it. Steeling their nerves for whatever they would find inside, Hyrule entered the room. 

The first thing to hit them was the smell of the room, as it always did when they entered Time’s shrine room. It smelled like freshly grown grass, and deep dark forests, and if they concentrated it even smelled a bit like their mother’s fairy fountain. In short, it smelled like home and it always made some of the tension in their shoulders seep away 

The second thing they noticed was the towering figure standing in the middle of the room. For a second, Hyrule was reminded of the time, months ago, when Sky had appeared before Hyrule in a gigantic inhuman form. At least in this case, the figure had the correct number of limbs and was a more reasonable height. 

It was obviously Time- there was no one else it could be. Even if this form was different from what he usually took, it still looked remarkably like him. He wore silver armor, and a great double helix sword was strapped to his back. His hair was pure white, as were his eyes. The marks on his face remained, but they seemed brighter than usual, the only streak of color on the man’s body.

Both of his eyes were open, which was usual. Time preferred forms that had a large scar over one of his eyes. Hyrule had never heard the tale of how he’d gotten the scar, but it must have been a fight to boast of, if the god willingly kept the scar in all his forms.  

Hyrule could see why such a sight would frighten someone who was not accustomed to seeing the gods, even if this appearance was very similar to a Hylian’s. The god’s pupil-less eyes seemed to bore into your very soul as he looked at you.

“Lord of the Seasons,” Hyrule greeted, using one of the god’s many formal titles. They bowed low and didn’t rise from the bow or dare look up at the god before they were told to. Their basket tumbled out of their hands as they did so, but they let it

For perhaps the hundredth time since Hyrule had come to the temple, Hyrule thanked their mother for teaching them proper manners. Fae were notorious for their politeness, and their mother wasn’t going to send Hyrule off into the world without teaching them manners, whether they were only half fae or not. 

That meant that they had fit in quite well at the temple, back when they still maintained proper decorum with all the gods. Most others, unless they were nobility and had been raised in such environments, wouldn’t have known proper behavior.

Of course, those manners weren’t really needed anymore, but they still served Hyrule well in situations like these. They may have gained respect from the people of Castle Town by being the caretaker of the temple and they may be regarded as an authority on the will of the gods, but even then they couldn’t go around acting so casually toward them in public. 

Time’s voice responded to his greeting, albeit deeper than it normally was. ”Rise, supplicant,” He ordered.

Thankfully, it seemed Time also recognized the need to keep a formal distance between them. Hyrule pushed down a feeling of hurt that Time would call them a supplicant, as if they had been reduced to simply a worshiper at his shrine. There was no need to take it personally. Time was playing a part, just as Hyrule was. 

Hyrule rose, meeting Time’s eyes. (At least they were pretty sure they were meeting Time’s eyes. With no pupils, it was impossible to tell where the god was looking.)

With a wave of Time’s hand, the door to the room slammed shut in the faces of all the onlookers. It might have been Hyrule’s imagination, but they could have sworn that Time’s shoulders relaxed when they no longer had an audience. 

Hyrule knew Time hadn’t come here for them. If Time had wanted to speak to Hyrule, he could have appeared before them directly. Which meant that the god couldn’t be angry at them for some slight Hyrule hadn't realized they had committed. 

That and the fact Hyrule had gotten over being fearful of the strange forms they took. After being espoused to it for so long, the novelty of it had worn off. It took something very shocking- like Sky’s gigantic form- to startle them. 

Lacking any fear, Hyrule said, “Didn’t expect to see you here.” It was a casual greeting, one that you might give to a friend you met in the market. It seemed absurd to give such a greeting to a god, but a lot of things in Hyrule’s life were absurd and they had learned to live with it. 

 “He wanted advice.” Time spoke. Time’s face remained impassive and completely still. Hyrule yet to see any movement on the god’s face. It was as if the god were wearing a mask carved of wood. Time had an excellent poker face and rarely let emotions show, but he was usually a bit more expressive than this.

Hyrule blinked in confusion. “Who- oh, the young man who was in here before me?”

Time sighed, voice slightly irritated. “Yes.”

Hyrule knew that many people sought out the gods to ask for advice on a whole range of topics. Still, it was very rare for any of the gods to answer in person, let alone Time. Out of all the gods, he was the most seclusive, preferring to keep to himself and do his work from a distance. 

“What did he want advice about?” Hyrule said, wondering what would have drawn Time to visit.

Time lifted a hand to rub over his face, sounding exhausted when he spoke. “He wanted love advice. He said that since I was the only one of the gods who was married, I might have some wisdom for him.”

That certainly wasn't what Hyrule had been expecting. It was true- Time was the only married god, as far as Hyrule knew- but he wasn’t known as a god of love or anything like that. If you wanted advice on the softer aspects of things, you were better off praying to Sky, or perhaps even Four or Warriors.

Time nodded, perhaps seeing confusion on Hyrule’s face. “It’s unusual that I get a supplicant asking for romantic advice. I wanted to answer him in person, but it seems he was too much of a coward for that.” Time’s face remained as impassive as ever, but Hyrule heard scorn in Time’s voice. 

Courage was something that all the gods valued, and Time was no exception. All of the gods were warriors of some kind, and none of them took kindly to cowardice, so it didn't surprise them that Time was displeased that the man had run. ”But I think I might stay for a while longer and hear more supplications from those who are brave enough to face me.” 

Not wanting to offend, but also slightly amused by the whole situation, Hyrule said. “Maybe you could take on a less frightening form? Other people aren't as used to seeing gods as I am. He was just scared of that, I think.” 

There was a long pause as Time seemed to consider this. While he did, Hyrule turned to gather their basket off the floor. The basket and meat pie had stayed where they had dropped them, but the apples had rolled away. Hyrule found one of them easily, but the other was nowhere to be seen. 

Most likely it had rolled into a corner or under an offering table. Hyrule could find it later, after the worshippers had left the temple and this whole situation had died down.

But when they turned back to Time, they were pleasantly surprised. Hyrule hadn’t thought that Time had moved when they’d turned their back on him, but they found that the god was standing closer than he had been, and holding out the apple Hyrule had lost. 

He had also changed his appearance. Time looked more like he usually did, now. He still wore the armor, but it was no longer unearthly silver, but a normal iron. His hair was no longer white, but a bright blonde, and he stood at a more reasonable height. If Hyrule had seen him out in the city, they would have assumed that he was a knight, and wouldn’t have looked twice at him.

At least, if it hadn’t been for the mask the man now wore. It was white and pearlescent, with a swirling symbol Hyrule didn't recognize carved into it. It also had no eye holes, but Hyrule got the unnerving feeling Time was still staring at them.

With a smile, Hyrule took the second apple from Time’s outstretched hand and tucked it into their basket. “That’s better,” They agreed to Time’s unspoken question. “Much less intimidating, I think.” Then they hesitated. “But, if you still wanted to speak with that young man, I’m afraid that he’s, um, already gone.”

Time snorted at that. “No need to be delicate about it. I know he ran away like a child.“ 

Hyrule nodded, not bothering to defend the young man. He had run away, after all. 

They would have to warn those who were gathered outside that the god would still be there if they entered his shrine, and then they would have to prepare for a flood of people coming to see the god in person. Hyrule would probably seclude themself in their room. No need for them to get caught up in that mess.

“I’ll leave you to it, then.” Hyrule sighed. “Here’s hoping I won't have to fight through a hoard of people all asking questions the second I step out of this room.” It was a fruitless hope, they already knew. News of the god’s presence would have already spread, drawing even more people to crowd around the door.

Time said nothing, but patted them on the shoulder consolingly before they headed towards the door, leaving the god where he stood. 

~~~

The Pantheon:

Sky: God of the sky, divinity, sleep, and children (The first god, Mother of the gods)

Four: (They/Them) God of the four elemental spirits, and the forge. (They created the world out of the endless cloudy void Sky had been living in. The void is now the realm of the gods, the world is now the realm of the mortals)

Time: God of time, the seasons, the harvest/farming (He began the turning of the seasons)

Twilight: God of the night/day, animals, and the sun/moon/stars (He created the stars, planets, moon, and sun, and helped populate the world with animals)

Legend: God of myths, adventure, and music (He worked together with Twilight to create mortals. He also helped create the constellations)

Wind: God of the ocean and the dead (He helped deal with the overpopulation of mortals. Psychopomp. Started out as a mortal)

Warriors: (Xe/Xem/Xyr) God of war, strategy, and battle, (Also a psychopomp, but only to the effect that xe delivers souls of those who die in battle to Wind. “Battle” is very widely defined. Lots of things can be battles Ie: childbirth, battle with sickness)

Wild: God of the hearth, hunting, and the wilds (He moderates how much Hyians encroach on nature. Started out as a mortal)