Offering (2)
I stood in the temple of the Life Goddess alongside Shamash, gazing out at the plaza. They couldn't see us from over there, but we had a clear view of them—a barrier like a magic mirror wrapped around us. Thanks to that, they had no idea Shamash and I were watching.
"How can she just rip it out like that raw? Doesn't it hurt...?"
"You got me. How does one even pull out their own heart bare-handed?"
Even in those Aztec myths, they didn't do self-heart-extractions like that. Tearing through skin with bare hands, piercing muscle, rummaging through bones to yank it out. There was a limit to recklessness.
I shook my head faintly as I watched Indra's body disintegrate into fragments after ripping out his heart. Was it really worth going that far to protect the gods? That kind of sacrifice... Did they even deserve it?
I had no idea. Gods were born solely from human faith, after all. Fragile things that couldn't exist on their own. Were they truly worth such desperate efforts?
I watched as Indra's soul—now fully formless and scattered—was led away by the hand of a tiny reaper. The other gods hadn't noticed that small reaper guiding a god's soul to the underworld.
Even as a fragment of Baal, did a soul truly exist? If so, was Indra's soul a part of Baal's? No clue. I'd thought I'd researched souls pretty thoroughly, but there was still so much I didn't know about gods' souls.
Hm. If fragments have souls... do mine too?
No idea. Hm... I'll look into it later.
For now, I set aside thoughts of fragments. Closing my eyes slowly, I regarded Indra's body crumbling away without its soul. I had no idea why he'd made that choice, but... I prayed his soul would reincarnate safely.
And then.
"What about... that?"
Shamash eyed the glowing heart Indra had left behind—a fragment of Baal. The other gods just watched, none daring to approach the radiant thing.
I beckoned lightly toward the heart, and it flew straight to me.
This heart was Baal's. Baal's emotions. A shard of Baal's memories.
Ah, so that's why. No wonder Baal's soul in the underworld felt so deflated. A massive chunk of memories was stored here.
I brushed a finger against Baal's memories, then pulled back. Reading them like this... it'd be rude to him.
So instead, I conjured a small silver box and placed the glowing heart inside.
"Mom... that heart..."
"Someday, if Baal returns to claim godhood, I might give it back."
No telling when, but someday... maybe. If he repeated human lives until he got sick of them, wouldn't he want to come back? Even if he changed through all those lives, reclaiming this heart... might make him Baal again.
So.
"Until then... we'll keep it safe."
For Indra's sake, at least—the one who'd sacrificed his own heart as an offering. A promise was a promise.
"And we have to honor Indra's final request too."
"His final request?"
"Yeah."
He'd begged to raise the wall between the earthly realm and the gods even higher. Before, it only prevented reckless descents and meddling with humans... but hm. To the gods, that was no real obstacle—they'd interfered anyway. Sending avatars with power limits still let them meddle plenty. The barrier had been meaningless in practice.
"From now on, no direct interference except through oracles, blessings, indirect divine power support... or temporary descents via devout human vessels as mediums."
"Pardon? Won't that spark backlash from the gods?"
"If they wanna rebel with doom knocking at the door, be my guest."
It'd just hasten their end.
"Hm. Oracles, blessings, indirect power boosts... yeah. Limiting it to temporary possessions of faithful humans sounds good."
"Whoa... the gods are gonna be crying rivers. But won't that mess us up too?"
"You lot? Your true bodies are already on earth. This is just to keep Pantheon gods from escaping. It won't affect you... hm. Or should we ban gods from using power directly on earth altogether?"
"That'd wither them all to dust for real!"
"Not the worst idea. Eh, we'll moderate it. Excluding you, no true bodies on earth... well, mountain spirits or river gods have theirs down here, but they're weak with tons of limits anyway. We can leave 'em be."
Mountain and river gods were tied tight to local humans... forcibly dragging them to the Pantheon now would be a hassle. Let 'em slide, then confiscate their faith later and demote them. Good enough.
I sound like the villain here.
Hm... from the gods' view, I probably am.
Anyway.
"That settles one."
"You really gonna claim the other fragments too?"
"Of course."
For now, give the gods ten years. That's the rumor I'd spread, and Indra thought the same before sacrificing himself. The first was voluntary... but not the next.
I gazed at Zeus, standing dumbstruck in the plaza. The guy whose head I'd once lopped off... what would he do now?
Three years passed, and a child was born. A child whose existence had been prophesied by the gods before birth, foretold to become a great hero. Countless gods vied to bless him first, but in the end, he received the blessing of Olympus's king, Zeus.
The boy named Lyclean grew up frolicking across hills and fields like his own playground, blissfully unaware of his destiny.
"At least we succeeded in blessing him... and his growth is going smoothly."
Athena watched the child play on earth and spoke. Small as he was, he commanded fierce beasts at will. He'd even crushed a venomous serpent to death in one hand. Sometimes his overwhelming strength was worrisome.
"He's too strong... it's concerning."
"He needs that much to be a true hero, no?"
Zeus nodded as he observed the boy. First things first, they'd beaten the competition among countless gods to bless him. The Pantheon ban on direct descents to the lower world was a huge issue... but if this child made him king of the gods, it'd all sort itself out.
So.
"Let's do what we must first."
Zeus donned a laurel crown forged of gold. A faint bolt of lightning flickered between the golden leaves—the crown holding the power of Baal, king of gods.
Blended with Zeus's golden hair, it looked like lightning incarnate.
That crown embodied the authority of the gods' king, the symbol and crystallization of his power—the very thing Baal had worn. Even Zeus, as its fragment-bearer, couldn't wield it fully, so he'd limited its output via this golden laurel to use even a fraction.
Wearing it turned Zeus into one of the gods who could hurl lightning.
"Now. Time for war."
Zeus murmured and surveyed his surroundings. Olympian gods gripped weapons forged by Hephaestus over years. And at the forefront, the war god Athena readied her chariot for the charge.
"Shame about Ares turning out like that."
"Self-inflicted, Father."
Athena donned her golden helmet as she spoke. Ares, who should have charged alongside her at the vanguard... wasn't joining this battlefield.
He'd boasted he'd fetch the Deep Forest Sage and stormed out of Olympus, only to return shrunken to a faith-faint lump in Hermes's hand—most of his faith stolen, barely holding form. Dozens of years before he could do anything. Lucky he was recovering bit by bit, or Olympus's war god would've been just Athena.
"A brainless berserker war god? We don't need him."
"Can't deny his strength, though."
As war god, Ares drew power from battle—unbeatable if he joined.
"No helping what's gone."
"Then, Father—loose the thunder to declare war. We'll charge with it."
Zeus nodded at Athena's words, drew a bolt from his crown, and hurled it like a spear. The lightning cleaved the clear sky, striking the gods opposing Olympus—the Ennead. Several at the impact point charred black.
"Charge!!!"
With that roar, Athena whipped her chariot forward amid thunderous clamor, Olympians surging behind with weapons raised. The Ennead countered, desert storms at their backs, charging to meet them.
This was the gods' desperate war for survival—and to decide the next offering for the Life Goddess.
