To Humble a God
Power is an interesting thing—making life from nothing, worship for just existing, and legions dying in your name.
It intoxicates you. What can you not do?
Yet seeing angry little men match your wrath and still hold their ground, and when you submit expecting scorn, meet you with joy and laughter?
It is an odd thing and a humbling experience, one I will not need to learn again, for I will not follow the light goddess's folly twice.
—Abaddon, learning to lead
"Peace, Abaddon."
Do not mock me, voice. I will choose peace—not because you beg it.
I wished I had been there in person. My shame was already at its peak, having lost this war. The only saving grace was knowing they could not enter my city without death. I probably could shift the winds to spread it beyond and kill more, but I did not wish to encourage fire retaliation.
Word came from the king—he was willing to bow in my place for the shame. I wanted to refuse, or even just send Tom. Yet he was the king, and I let him rule in my place. As much as I hated this outcome, if I could not address it personally, I needed a high title to show my grace, lest it be another slight they could use against me.
Still, I would not be blind and deaf to this meeting. Though not easy, the altar from which to focus my power and also let me speak was raised upon a litter, a mirror fixed before it, and borne by acolytes under escort of the king and Tom.
The shadow children danced around the devoted carrying the altar as it was carried outside, wishing to join us in this event about to unfold, but Luma was near and sensed my intent and discomfort even within the altar and shooed them away. Vesperia was also near and oversaw the shadow children along with a few curious human children. Now that the battle was resolved, to them they had heard the noise but it was all unknown—they could not help but want to see more.
The majority of the dwarfs stayed back, cleaning, fixing, and covering their losses. Yet I was not a fool—even from here I could see battle-ready lines still stood on guard, even with only the three that faced me outside the gate.
It was hard to tell them apart, if I was being honest—and not in the 'I'm above all and you all look the same way,' but literally they could be brothers. Nearly identical triplets at that.
All three had long beards and thick armor that made my shadows itch from whatever coated it. Yet the oddest thing was their lack of focus. They all laughed and slapped each other until the king got close.
"NOW THAT WAS A FIGHT, YOU UGLY BASTARDS!" A swing I nearly took as a threat smacked the king's back. "YOU SHOULD'VE LED WITH THAT! WE WOULD'VE BEEN LISTENING A LOT FASTER!"
What was he talking about?
I could not see the king but felt his restraint as he chose his words. "I regret our letter was not met with understanding. That was not our intent."
The middle dwarf looked like he had just been slapped. "WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO WITH THAT? WIPE MY ASS?" They all laughed at the joke, but my confusion grew. This was an odd way to start demands for losses.
The king went on. "We did not expect any trade caravans until we sent word by letter. It seems we miscalculated timing that you would come to barter. Also, my lord regrets he could not be here to convey that personally."
They stopped laughing upon hearing those words and turned very serious. The flips in mood were exhausting and made me question their sanity.
The middle one—I assumed their king since he stood slightly in front of the other two—scratched his chin deep in his beard before speaking. "Uh, so lord, is it? We heard talk but nothing beyond rumors. Not sure what you expected us to do with some letter from someone we'd never met... And after you spilled blood, no less."
The dwarf paused, looking genuinely puzzled. "I mean, what were we supposed to say? 'Oh sure, kill our men, mystery lord who may be a god we've never seen fight or knew existed, we'll talk afterwards?'" The presumed king frowned as he watched for our retort. When none came, he finished: "That ain't how we do business."
Tom twitched from the slight against me being treated so casually and did not like the mockery, but it was a fair question. I was the one humbled, so I might as well speak and address the issue.
"I am that lord. I fear my presence is elsewhere—the king does speak for me." I spoke through the altar and watched clearly with the mirror their response.
"Well, look at that! A talking mirror! Never thought I'd see a thing like that..." Laughter broke out, making me unsure if it was a slight or dismissal. And I was not talking with the mirror... It was my sight.
They calmed soon after and the middle dwarf shrugged, looking almost apologetic. "Look, we figured you'd know how this worked. You played the game well enough, even if you're the first new god we've dealt with since that stick-up-her-ass Light Goddess." He paused once more, debating if he was being too blunt from the look in his eye, but he went on anyway. "But... we don't care much for assumptions. You were willing to fight. So we're willing to listen."
He gestured toward the battlefield. "When you sent those beasts instead of just talking like some dwarf afraid of drinking anymore without pissing himself, we thought, 'Ah, he gets it. Wants to prove himself proper before making demands.' Good scrap, that. Shows you got spine and understand how the world works—fought hard, knew when to stop. That's the kind of lord... or god... we can work with."
The dwarf king looked between us watching him, unsure who to address to be proper with his respect, his confusion genuine. "We just thought everyone understood how we work from how we act—you prove you're worth dealing with, then we talk business. Figured that was obvious, new lord, king, god or not. That's the dwarven code—the king's dealt with us before, he should know..." There was a bit of accusation in his tone as if this was a setup.
The middle dwarf kept staring at the king, and I was unsure if he wanted to fight or to be apologized to. I settled on apologizing for the mistake since I did not seek the king's counsel.
"I assumed much, it seems. For that, I apologize. The king was not given time to offer me counsel. So... you're open to... trade?"
The dwarf king looked at the mirror. "NO, I'M LOOKING FOR A CUP OF WATER FOR THE NIGHT!" The dwarfs all laughed at their joke.
They could not see me beyond the mirror as it reflected nothing but darkness, but the unease must have shown on Tom and the king's faces, as one of the dwarfs felt obligated to speak, making things clearer.
"God or no god, you paid your debt. We swung, you swung back, neither side broke, and you had the sense to stop before the earth drank too much blood. That's all we asked. We do things simple if you let them be."
The king slapped the dwarf who was speaking, surprising me. "DON'T BE TALKING FOR ME, BOY! I TOLD YOU ABOUT THAT!" But then he faced me, serious as the steel he wielded at his side. "Aye, we're good now. We talking coin and trade, or do you want me to kiss your grand ass?" Laughter erupted once more.
I wanted to keep talking to understand them better, but I found their laughter and enjoyment of everything more exhausting than enlightening.
Even still—a war with bloodshed, and it was just a friendly chat to them?
I would need to learn more about others' ways, but was this what I wanted when I allowed choice? Kingdoms like this would rise, and not all would bow unless I chose the goddess's path and forced it.
And what would that get me? Well... it would get me her.
And I did not want that, so I would see where this... freedom leads.
The talks between the king and Tom and the dwarfs were soon settled. Once the tension broke of assuming I had to give concessions, things went much smoother, though the king seemed to always be on the back foot despite having dealt with them before—he was a meek man, more agreeable than forceful. Thankfully Tom balanced that, defining things clearly without intent to offend.
I told them I would modify the poison in the air to be less lethal—it had been a miscalculation from intent to save my people and ended up causing more needless deaths.
His people would still need it to breathe easily, as the light goddess made everything seem to be tainted in the air. But it would not be a binding need nor a death sentence to anyone who came here trying to breathe the new air. I would make it more like the rot, or at least try to. It would infect you with time but could be healed.
It would require months of exposure to kill now, or perhaps it would change them? I was unsure since the time had not passed yet. I just needed a few days to balance and shift the air.
Time passed slowly and I was thankful I was not there. I feared my annoyance would have started a fight if they could see my face listening to them laugh. I respected Tom's restraint all the more. Even the king's meekness gained some respect for dealing with it directly.
They finally reached agreements and left with no more malice than what they had arrived with, despite the bloodshed we both split. I kept expecting them to turn with a blade, calling me a fool for believing the elaborate ruse.
Yet the dwarfs did quit the field, still laughing as though blood were nothing more than spilled ale. I watched within the mirror, not desiring to leave, wishing to see this to the end.
Their world was stupidly simple: fight, bleed, talk about it, and then drink together. Maybe fight some more, but no grudges when done. No poison to defend against the unknown. No being meek. No endless suspicion. And somehow, for all their absurdity, they walked away stronger for it even when they bled.
Or so it seemed. I'm sure even they have darkness and rot that lies within their cracks, but for now they had bested me at a game I did not know how to play. The king mentioned in passing they had a caste system, but said it was common for other races—humans did not need one, as wealth was their caste system.
Were they better? Were the elves better? I had fewer dealings with them and was unsure how their culture worked.
I was getting depressed. I did not feel like a god dealing with these things. I did not know what I wanted to feel. I was a shattered mind, and I came into... this? Add to it, a voice had been haunting me.
"Abaddon."
As if on cue, she called to me again. I could feel her more clearly now—a female voice. I mildly suspected the Light Goddess, but I felt a lost longing and sadness, not a desire to control but to be heard.
I needed time, and this whole affair was not where I wanted my focus. I needed time to heal, and so did my people. Hopefully things would calm and allow me to grow. Too many things were beyond me.
"Abaddon."
Even now you seek my attention, voice? Wait your turn. Until I find myself, I can't help you find yours.18Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdT6gXTL6sj
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