002 - An Oath to the Sky

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When I opened my eyes, the world had changed drastically. Gone were the majestic sights of faraway mountains that shone like gold or the lush forests stretching out under the clear azure sky above. Gone were the magnificent roars of ancient animals emitting fierce divine auras or the sound of pristine water flowing throughout this version of paradise.

Instead, I found myself in a small cabin—a shack might have been an even better description, judging by its state of disrepair. There were many small holes strewn throughout the slanted roof, allowing small rays of sunlight through, while exactly underneath were rotten wooden floorboards soaked in rainwater.

And yet, this dilapidated environment felt cozy—somehow.

Two beds lay side by side, barely an inch above the floor. From what I could tell, they were made of scrap wood at best, and the bedding wasn't much better. Animal hides. Most likely homemade, as no decent store would produce such shoddily skinned and patched together hide. I couldn't tell from which animals they came from, but it seemed to be from a multitude of them, as the furs were of all different colours, lengths and textures.

On the other side of the shack, barely a step away from the beds was something I could only describe as scrap metal. It seemed broken beyond belief, with massive rust holes all over its body, but I recognized it as a primitive cast iron stove. Even in the times before I rose to godhood, such kitchen appliances were already obsolete.

Apart from that, there was no other furniture, not even a chair or table, and no decorations. This place couldn't be called anything close to comfortable as a living environment; it was a shelter at best. And yet, I found an uncanny warmth within

it.

I lay in one of the two beds. Every inch of my body hurt like it had never done before—especially my chest. It was wrapped in thin, scrappy bandages, barely holding together yet soaked red with blood. Judging by how crusty they were, I must have been unconscious for more than a brief moment—at least a day or two.

My mind remained foggy. Maybe it was due to the shock of my fall or my sudden awakening, but I couldn't clearly recall the events that led to this moment. And yet, the feeling in my chest was too much to ignore.

It was like a burning blaze on the verge of exploding. If not for the state of my battered body, I would have leapt to my feet and rushed out the door, ready to face whatever it was my heart sought.

But then, I felt something creep beyond the nearby door. Judging by the light streaming through the slit near its hinges, I knew it led outside—meaning this shack was comprised of this room alone, barely fit for human habitation.

Empowered by my heightened emotions, I reached for a large wood splinter on the ground before concealing it under my bedding. I closed my eyes, regulating my breathing as I waited, faking unconsciousness. Yet, my senses were fixated on whatever lurked on the other side of that door.

There were voices, and judging by their pitch, one was male and the other female. I didn’t even have to strain my ears to hear them clearly, for the walls were thin, no better than paper.

They seemed young, barely out of adolescence. They seemed to be arguing—no doubt concerning me—believing me to still be unconscious. They would never have dreamed that I might be spying on them, and it showed.

“We can’t afford to be looking after him. We can barely look after ourselves as it is!” the male voice said. “Don’t you realize what it means for us? How could you be so callous?”

“Should have I just left him to rot, then?” she spat back, yet the female voice remained strangely calm and even, even while dripping with sarcasm. “He would have died had I not helped him. Think about it. What do you think they would have done had it been mom and dad? I'd rather not tarnish their memories."

“That's unfair," the man replied, and from his tone, I could feel how conflicted he was, just as I could feel the air surrounding me. "Could you not bring them into this? They've been gone for years now. Ideals alone won't allow us to survive."

“What would be left of us if we were to throw away the ideals imparted to us? Would we remain human? Would you be able to live with yourself?”

“Gladly! I'd be prepared to do anything if it meant we could survive. Don't you feel the same?"

“Living for the sake of survival would make us nothing more than animals. We’re better than that!

“Are we?”

The conversation seemed to be escalating. I could even conceive of them resorting to blows, were I not convinced the two voices I heard to be siblings. Fortunately, the female voice seemed more reasonable, opting not to escalate matters further. Instead, I saw the door to this broken-down shed slowly open and quickly closed my eyes, allowing rays of sunlight to strike my eyelids.

“How is he?" the male asked, followed by something hitting the bedding across from me, most likely from the man sitting on the adjacent bed. "It'd be a shame for him to die after all the trouble you went to keeping him alive."

“Would you keep silent! You’re distracting me.”

I felt her hovering over me, her breath on my bare chest as she pulled away my covers. Fortunately, I had hidden the wood splinter in the palm of my hand, away from her prying eyes, so that she wouldn’t notice a thing. Besides, his eyes seemed glued to the wound on my chest. More specifically, the blood-soaked bandages clumsily wrapped around my torso.

“Incredible,” she muttered. “Sirius. Come. Look! His wound is almost healed. It’s a miracle.”

“Stella. Don't be daft. How could a man possibly heal that fast? It's a miracle he's even breathing still."

I could feel her soft finger tracing the contours of where the gaping hole in my chest used to lie. Although a slight pain remained, the mere fact that someone other than my beloved was touching me in such a gentle manner left a sour taste in my mouth, so much so that I couldn’t stand it anymore.

My upper body jerked upright as my eyes snapped open. I wrapped my left arm around the back of her head, reaching up to her jaw, then tugged firmly enough to completely expose the arteries of her neck. With my right hand, I firmly jabbed the splinter I picked up moments prior against her smooth skin, yet didn't breach.

Taken aback, the man had no time to react.

I pulled her close to me, pressing her back against my chest, all the while still holding firm against her jaw as I shimmied out of bed, planting both of my feet against the ground while remaining seated.

The woman whimpered, her body contorted in an uncomfortable position. Owing to the care she gave me, I relented only slightly on my hold over her, just enough to allow her to rectify her stance, but squeezed harder as soon as she was done.

“You bastard! Release her!" the man yelped, but his tone had no strength. He was all bravado and no substance, frantically searching for a weapon to use as I held her life in my hands.

Amateur, I couldn’t help but think. Who in their right minds would allow a woman to attend to a strange man, no matter how injured he might be. In their own home, no less.

Now that I could get a good look at both of them, they seemed no more than eighteen years of age. Twenty, at most. While their society might consider them adults, to me, they were nothing more than children.

Still, the resemblance between them was uncanny despite being opposite genders. They both sported purple hair—a rarity among humans. Adding their deep emerald eyes, you would be hard-pressed to find any individuals with similar features. Still, adding all these factors and their similar ages, I could only conclude that they were twins and not fraternal ones, but honest-to-goodness identical twins—if that could even be possible.

"See what you get for trying to help someone!" the man said. Lost in his panic, he couldn't help but ramble on. On the contrary, the woman seemed much calmer despite feeling the pointy end of the splinter against her neck.

“Pardon me for asking, but would you mind not pointing this at me," she slowly said. "This is one of my few good remaining shirts. I'd rather not have it stained with blood, even if it is my own."

I was stunned by how eloquent she seemed in such a situation that a muffled chuckle escaped my lips. I relaxed my grip on her neck just slightly enough, just for a brief moment, that it allowed her to slip out of my grasp with the piece of wood, only scraping the surface of her skin.

As for the man, it seemed I underestimated them both, for he didn't miss this opportunity to wrangle her away from me, pulling her away to safety before drawing what appeared to be a knife. My eyes narrowed if only slightly at sight, wondering whether or not to escalate this further, but the woman called Stella stopped me in my tracks with her words.

"Sirius, don't!" she said, using her arms to stop him while keeping me in her sights. She held one hand to her neck, yet there was only a bruise, and no blood had been drawn. "He must have just been confused. I would be if I were to wake up in a stranger's bed. Let's not make a big deal out of it."

“You still defend him, sister? He attacked you!”

“He could have done much worse, yet didn’t. If he truly wanted to harm me, I wouldn’t be here talking to you. Now then, put away that knife, would you?”

Although reluctantly, the man obliged, yet his gaze didn't leave me for a second. Still filled with unending hostility, it was a far cry from the look of confusion he once gave me. He was a much better actor than I gave him credit for.

“Why don’t we introduce ourselves?” she added. “I’m Stella and this is my younger brother Sirius, and you are?”

I deliberated on whether or not to tell them my name. Truthfully, ever since I was enthroned as a Divinity, my birth name had been lost to the abyss of time. All knew me simply as Divine Slaughter, the avatar of its essence. Nothing beyond that was ever needed.

Yet now, that moniker was lost to me, as was the name I once threw away after ascending to Divinity. There was now an empty gulf in the core of my soul, something missing. I remained silent, unsure of how to proceed.

"Do you not remember?" the woman asked, and judging by her expression, her concern seemed genuine. "Well, it's unsurprising, considering the state I found you in. It's a miracle you're alive at all."

Indeed, I wondered how I could have survived, for I wasn't meant to endure losing my heart and divinity. Any lesser man would have perished instantly when his heart was crushed, but not I. Still, not even I should have been able to survive that fall...

“You can’t imagine how surprised I was when I witnessed that shooting star falling so close to our home last night,” she added. “I can’t help but think you were able to survive such an ordeal only through the Goddess’s blessing.”

“The Goddess?” I asked.

"Haven't you realized?" she asked back, and only now did I realize that although her garb was frayed and torn, they were undoubtedly priestly ones, sporting an emblem I was intimately familiar with.

“My sister serves the Goddess of Mercy," the man said. "She believes your survival may be related to her grace, but for my part, I can't help but think she's just being delusional. No matter how blessed they might be, there's no way someone can survive a fall from such height."

"Sirius! The Goddess's favour extends to us all. She always watches over us, guiding the way for those with faith."

"And what did such faith ever grant us?" Sirius scoffed. "You've always had faith in her, but that didn't stop our parents from vanishing. We're now stuck living in this shack in the middle of the woods. How long until this 'mercy' of yours manifests itself. How long must we continue living like this?"

Having said his piece, the man stormed out of the room, leaving me alone with the one called Stella. Carried away by his emotions, it seemed he had forgotten what had just happened between me and her. Still, the woman showed no concern—at least toward me.

"You'll have to forgive him. Life hasn't been easy for us. He still harbours resentment for what life had in store for us. As powerful as the Goddess is, she isn't omnipotent. Many more—other than us—require her attention."

Somehow, this little human girl couldn't help but remind me of her, so much that I unconsciously let down my guard. She possessed the same open-mindedness that first attracted me to her, but obviously, they weren't the same, far from it. No one could possibly take her place.

Suddenly, I felt a dull headache creep up on me. The fog that hovered over my mind remained, obscuring the details of what occurred within the Divine Realm. It seemed that the loss of my Divine Soul brought forth other issues besides a loss of strength.

I knew I had been betrayed and cast down to the mortal world, but not much more than that. Most of my memories from my time in the Divine Realm were now fragmented, with only her existence remaining as a beacon of who I was.

"Take me there," I ordered, barely rising to my feet.

Somehow, I felt that looking at where I fell into this world might trigger some of my missing memories. If nothing else, it might give me a hint on what to do next. I could only go from there, but this I affirmed.

No matter what obstacles lay in my path, I swore henceforth to do all that is within my power to return to her.

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