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IV. Mars At Dusk
The gardens were beautiful at sunset.
The water flowing from the Shrine of the Ocean Queen reflected the sunlight and almost blinded Scar if he looked at it for too long. The warm breeze kicked up flower petals into the air and scattered them across the cobblestone paths.
Most of all, it was peaceful.
Scar usually loved the bustle of the temple and the gardens, but sometimes it became too much. One of his favorite jobs as the on-site temple keeper was “closing up” at the end of every day. During the warmer months, he preferred to finish up his day by walking through the gardens to make sure everybody and everything was where it was supposed to be. It was a pleasant and peaceful job, and it was good for him to get some fresh air after spending most of his day in the temple.
This sometimes meant escorting lost people back out of the temple ground, but that was pretty rare. It was kind of unfortunate, because they were often rather reluctant.
Scar had a sinking feeling that someone was out and about this fine evening. He kept seeing trampled flower petals on the ground and even saw a half-eaten sandwich next to the axolotl pond.
More than that, though, Scar kept looking over his shoulder. He felt like he was being watched.
Usually, being a temple keeper, this was reassuring, but he was alone at dusk. It was making him nervous.
The worst case scenario was that he’d…somehow…run back to the main temple complex in the event there was some kind of mass murderer on the loose in the grounds. The temple was under the protection of the gods and everything! They wouldn’t let someone die on the premises, would they?
Maybe they would. It was no secret that the gods could sometimes be neglectful.
But Scar maintained and protected the biggest temple for miles around. People from across the land came to pray and make sacrifices and ask for guidance and whatnot. He was helping people! He was making the gods proud!
Right?
They wouldn’t let someone die on the premises.
Scar walked back to the main path and glanced up at the temple. Golden hour was painting the stone walls and pillars a glorious amber, and it made the water sparkle magnificently.
He’d combed the whole area. Nobody was around.
But he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched.
Or listened to.
Feeling somewhat foolish, Scar glanced around. “If anybody is there…” he declared, hoping his voice was loud enough to carry across the grounds, “You better not mean anybody any harm! This is a protected area! The gods will smite you if you attempt any funny business!”
Someone tapped him on the shoulder.
“AAH!”
Scar yelped and spun around, glancing about furiously. Someone WAS there-!
But…nobody was there.
“This qualifies as funny business! Do you wanna get smited? Smote? Smoten -”
“I don’t think the gods will mind this funny business.” came a voice.
Scar yelped again, spinning around to look over his other shoulder.
Nobody was there! Again!
“Show yourself!” Scar bellowed. “Or face the wrath of the gods!”
The voice sighed. “Wow. I’m really scared.”
From out behind a tree, a figure stepped into the golden light. They were dressed most odd, even by Scar standards - a white blouse with puffy sleeves was under a fancy black sleeveless coat. Their pants were tattered around the ankles and were fraying. Many colorful sashes and belts were tied around their waist, with an hourglass tied to the side alongside many other trinkets. They seemed to be some kind of siren hybrid of something similar - with red and yellow gills poking out from their mess of blond hair and a crown of seaweed atop their head and tangled in the sun-bleached strands.
“Where the heck did you come from?” Scar said. Nobody dressed like that so far inland!
The stranger shrugged. “Nowhere. And everywhere.”
It was probably Scar’s imagination, just the words nowhere and everywhere seemed to echo dramatically around them.
What kind of an answer was that? “Who are you?!” Scar demanded. “The temple is closed!”
The stranger grinned. “You can call me Mars.”
Scar’s jaw dropped. Mars?
Well, firstly, this was clearly an alias of sorts. Nobody said you can call me if they were saying what their actual name was.
And secondly, Mars? In a temple? As in, the god of bloodshed and vengeance? The god of piracy and power?
“What are you doing here?” Scar demanded. “The temple is closed.”
“To outsiders.” Mars said. “What, can’t a god visit their favorite temple keeper?”
Whoa. Whoa, whoa, whoa.
In this moment, which could possibly end with Scar being ACTUALLY smote, he chose to laugh.
To his surprise, Mars laughed too.
“I know, I know.” they said. “Seems ridiculous! I’m working on it, trust me. Consider this a check in -”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Scar finally said. “You’re actually Mars? Like, the god?”
Secretly, he thought that Mars wouldn’t seriously try to leave the house wearing such ridiculous clothes. But on the off chance that it was actually Mars, he didn’t say that out loud.
“Yes.” Mars said, sounding surprised at Scar’s confusion. “Who else is walking around our temple after closing? Nobody dares to disrespect the garden of the gods, lest they deal with me.”
Scar swallowed. He suddenly felt like he was standing in front of an apex predator that could gnaw his head off at any moment.
The gods didn’t just appear in corporal forms in front of mere mortals.
“What are you doing here?!” Scar finally blurted.
Mars rolled his eyes. “I told you. I’m checking in. I’m being friendly. Consider it a healthy social skills exercise.”
“Are you insinuating my social skills are subpar?” Scar gasped in the mock outrage he usually reserved for friends before he remembered he was talking to a GOD.
But Mars somehow took it in stride. “No, no!” he cried. “You’re getting bogged down in the semantics. This is me asking how everything is going at the temple.”
Scar gulped. “Uh - fine! As always. As usual.”
“Good. Good.” Mars nodded. “And if something was wrong, you’d say so, right?”
“I guess?” Scar gulped again. He wiped his palms on his shirt - when did they get so sweaty?
“Yes, yes. That seems all in order.” Mars declared. “Can’t have you dying on us or getting hurt or having trouble brewing right under our noses.”
Scar didn’t know what to say. He was going to need to sit down after this.
“So if anything goes belly up,” - he laughed a bit at his own joke - “you can just let one of us know.” Mars said with a dismissive wave. As if it were normal to call on a deity if something went belly up.
“Uh - um - sure.” Scar spluttered.
“Excellent.” Mars clapped their hands together. “Well, it’s been fine talking to you, Scar. I’ll be on my way, if you don’t mind.”
“Wait -” Scar started, but it was too late. Mars’ image suddenly blurred like the street on a hot summer day before fading away.
Scar stared at the spot where he’d been standing for several minutes before staggering over to the nearest bench and collapsing onto it.
What the heck was that?
III. Moon at Midnight
One of Scar’s favorite parts of keeping the temple was closing up the grounds at dusk.
One of Scar’s least favorite parts of keeping the temple was the night watch.
It was busy. It was cold. People had been coming in and out of the temple from dusk until dawn in preparation for New Year’s celebrations and goodwill nonsense. As such, Scar and the other people who worked at the temple were stuck stationed at various parts of the temple for significant parts of the night to prevent any vandals from sneaking in.
Perhaps the most inconvenient place to take the night watch was on the roof. People had snuck in through the fire escape in the past, so now Scar was lurking there in a fold-up beach chair with a cup of coffee and nothing else.
He wasn’t allowed to bring a lantern or anything! He couldn’t draw, he couldn’t read, he couldn’t do anything of substance except sit and wait for his four-hour shift to be over. Then he could go back into the temple and sleep.
Scar took another sip of the coffee. He didn’t even like coffee. But he needed the caffeine. This was supremely boring and miserable.
The only good thing about the rooftop night shift was that the night sky was incredibly beautiful. He could often get a full view of the stars on clear nights, but tonight wasn’t really one of them. No, tonight he couldn’t see the stars because of the full moon. Huge and heavy, it hung in the sky and outshone most of the stars he could usually see.
The good news was that the moonlight was providing a lot of extra light, making it easier for Scar to see any incoming intruders. The bad news was that it was harder to hide and/or doze, lest anyone see.
As far as he’d ever heard, nobody had attempted to scale the building and get in through the fire escape in years. It was dangerous, it was risky, and it was also illegal. Some people actually enjoyed taking the rooftop shift because it was so uneventful. Scar preferred being on the ground, in general, and also his job was usually more interesting. He had people to watch as they staggered home through the dark streets. Here, the only thing to watch was the stars and the moon. The only thing to listen for was the sound of his own breathing.
It was quiet for a long time. Scar’s thoughts were just starting to blur around the edges when he heard an odd noise, like some sort of squeak.
He instantly snapped to attention. Something was here.
He reached for his cane and gripped it tightly, rising to his feet silently and slowly. Hopefully whoever was there wasn’t armed. He didn’t have a knife or anything of the sort! Was it possible to bludgeon someone into submission with a cane?
Probably.
He quietly crept forward past the domed skylights, sparing a glance into the rotunda far below. All was dark, except for the ring of torches that was always lit around the perimeter.
Okay. So nobody was sneaking in through there somehow.
Scar walked around the glass dome to the front of the temple, looking out over the road that stretched up towards it. Nobody was around - although the city streets bathed in the midnight torchlight were oddly beautiful.
Scar went to walk back around the glass dome to his post when he tripped over something and stumbled, almost careening right into the glass.
He spun around, glancing over the ground and was shocked to see a dog laying on the roof beneath his feet. It had beautiful silvery fur, perked-up ears, and startlingly blue eyes that peered up at him. It was a rather large dog, as well - closer to the size of a wolf.
But no wolf would ever be on the roof of a temple.
But no DOG should ever be on the roof of a temple, either!
Scar bent down and extended a hand towards the dog’s nose. It leaned forward, and Scar petted it on top of its head. It was quite soft and clean - certainly not a stray.
The dog whimpered as Scar leaned back to stand up, so he resumed petting it.
Only now did he notice that one of its legs was bent at a weird angle, with blood matted around its pristine fur.
Oh. That wasn’t good.
“What happened to you?” Scar asked, leaning forward to examine it better.
The dog made a sound halfway between a whimper and a sigh.
“Well, that won’t do. Can I pick you up? I can get help.”
If anybody had been listening, Scar would’ve sounded ridiculous. Asking a dog for consent to pick it up like it could hear.
Whatever! Consent was important! This was a social skills exercise, just like Mars had said!
Scar gingerly scooped the dog into his arms, surprised at the lack of resistance. Leaning on his cane, he maneuvered back to his chair around the other side of the glass dome.
As he went, his thoughts strayed back to his encounter with Mars, the way it often did. Sometimes he thought he’d dreamed up the entire thing. It just seemed impossible. Gods didn’t go around talking to mortals to check in. It just didn’t happen. Even though Scar worked and lived in a temple, it’s not like he was particularly devoted. He didn’t have one patron or god he favored. He sort of…just did his job. It wasn’t a big deal.
He’d probably imagined it.
As he rounded around the dome, he suddenly stopped.
Someone was sitting in his chair.
Shoot! He’d completely forgotten his actual job - to watch for people! Someone was surely sneaking in now! How could he!
He shifted all of the dog’s weight (which was, frankly, a bit too heavy to be carrying) to one arm and gripped his cane tighter.
“Who goes there!?” he bellowed, leaping out from behind the glass dome.
The figure calmly rotated their head so they were making eye contact. Or, Scar assumed they were trying to make eye contact. They were wearing a hood, and with the moonlight overhead, their entire face was cast into shadow.
It was extremely ominous.
The dog started whimpering again, but this time Scar felt its tail begin to wag and tap his back.
“I mean no harm.” came the voice. “You may approach without fear.”
Scar scowled. “It’s past closing time! What are you doing on the roof!?”
“It seems I have lost my dog.” came the voice. “And it seems you have found it.”
Scar’s eyes widened. Nothing about this made sense.
The dog whimpered again, tail wagging furiously.
With a sigh, Scar approached the figure. They were wearing a long red cloak draped around their shoulders and trailing around the chair. Their hood had extra fabric on the head to accommodate for wolf ears, it seemed, plus they had a tail curled around one leg of the chair. Everything else was cast into complete shadow and darkness.
Against his better judgement, Scar set down the dog, which immediately trotted over - limping - to the figure. They bent down and scooped up the dog into their lap, leaning back contentedly.
“You’ve done me a good favor.” they said. “You found Tilly for me. I thank you very much, Scar.”
Scar blanched. He hadn’t said his name! How had they known!?
His stomach lurched. He’d never said his name.
Something flicked in the back of his brain. Mars had known his name without telling, as well.
The wolf. The dog. The moonlight. Tilly.
Scar leaned heavily against his cane.
No way.
“Who are you?!” he ordered.
The figure tilted their head up towards the sky, their hood drooping backwards a little, revealing brightly intelligent red eyes. “They call me the Moon these days. But I guess…hm. Yes, I am the Moon.”
Scar swallowed. “What are you doing here?!”
The Moon shrugged. “I owed the Sun a favor. Don’t worry about it. You passed the test.”
Those three sentences made essentially no sense next to each other. “What favor? What test? ”
“You brought Tilly back to me.” the Moon said.
“That was nothing. That wasn’t a test. ”
“But it was. Everybody falls asleep up here, ignoring the beauty and tranquility that comes with night and being alone. You were awake and alert and willing to respond to the call of someone in need.”
That just sounded like basic human decency to Scar. But the gods were…old-fashioned like that.
“Well.” the Moon said, standing up and brushing their cloak off of the chair. “I must be going. Truly, it was nice to meet you, Scar. I hope to see you again.”
“Wait!” Scar said, before the Moon could vanish. “Why did you come? Why are you guys all talking to me?”
“I think Mart - Mars - owed the Sun a favor as well.” the Moon sighed. “We’re just doing our jobs. But there is nothing to worry about. All good things.”
Good things? What good things?! First the god of vengeance and bloodshed appeared in front of Scar, and now the goddess of revenge and determination!?
“I see you are worried.” the Moon noted. “Don’t worry about it, the Sun will explain everything in time.”
“Well, he better!” Scar scoffed indignantly.
The Moon smiled. “I think the two of you would get along quite well.”
And with that hell of a loaded comment, the Moon glanced up to her namesake and faded away in the milky rays of light.
II. Stars at Noontime
There was someone sitting on the front steps of the temple.
It was a busy day, at the busiest time of the day. An endless stream of people were walking up and down the grand staircase. Scar knew from experience that people didn’t appreciate other people being in their way (especially on the stairs, which were somewhat challenging in general) but nobody was even sparing a glance towards this particular figure.
Scar maintained his regular rounds throughout the temple throughout the day - sweeping the rotunda, keeping candles lit in the individual shrine rooms, and occasionally picking up trash that found its way into the flowerbeds or the waterways (how rude!).
But every single time he walked past the front steps, the person was still there. Just admiring the scenery on the front steps. Not speaking, not being spoken to. Just silence.
It was starting to creep Scar out. Nobody ever just that there. Nobody ever just sat there being ignored for hours on end like that.
However, something in the back of Scar’s brain told him to watch out. His life had turned into a series of unfortunate and concerning coincidences as of late. He shouldn’t tempt fate…
But he wanted to tempt fate. He wanted to talk to the mysterious figure on the steps.
With a sigh, Scar finished arranging a crown of feathers next to the Canary’s statue and strode across the rotunda and out the temple’s doors. As he suspected, the person was still sitting there in silence, and didn’t look at Scar as he approached.
“Why, hello there.” he said, acting as normal as possible. “Mind if I sit down here for a bit?”
The person rotated their head to look at Scar. They had teal hair and a crown of stars hovering close to where their ears tapered off into neat points. They were dressed casually, in a short sleeved button up shirt and shorts.
“Not at all.” the person said pleasantly. “Have a seat.”
Scar lowered himself to the stair next to the person and glanced out over the rest of the steps and down the road. Sure, the view was pleasant, of course, but there wasn’t that much to see.
“What have you been doing out here all day?” Scar asked.
“Just visiting.” the person said. “This place is quite nice, and I do like to visit for a day every year or so. Just to see.”
“Are you from out of town?”
“Mm-hm. I used to live here a long time ago, so it’s good to see every now and then.”
Scar nodded. “That sounds quite nice. Where do you live now?”
The stranger waved a dismissive hand. “Far across the sea. Too far to make a regular journey, but close enough that I remember to visit.”
“Huh. Wow.” Scar had heard of the distant lands across the ocean, but had never visited them himself. Now that he was the temple keeper for a foreseeable future, he probably never would.
Someone walked up the steps beside them in the temple, and Scar automatically moved out of the way, but they didn’t even bat an eye.
So odd.
Odder still when the person suddenly stood up. After sitting on the temple steps all day, now they were standing up within minutes of Scar sitting down next to them.
“Can you walk me to the shrine of the Stars?” they asked. “I have some business to attend to there.”
“Oh. Okay,” Scar said, reaching for his cane and standing up beside them. The two of them staggered back up the steps and into the rotunda, before Scar led them down the side hallway towards the Stars’ shrine room.
It was odd, though - the temple had been bustling just moments ago, but now it was oddly quiet. There were only a few people ducking in and out of the hallway; as the two of them walked down, they all went away before Scar reached the door in question (painted with three four-pointed stars, of course).
It was strange that nobody was inside. The Stars was the god of loyalty and good luck, and people regularly called upon him for everyday blessings. Indeed, Scar could see all manner of offerings strone about the room - a piece of pale oak bark, a handful of cherry blossom petals, a piece of driftwood, and many more.
Despite the room having windows, they always depicted an eternal night and thunderstorm outside through some magic Scar didn’t really understand. The ceiling was dotted with tiny pinpricks of light, and the walls were covered in garlands of flowers that never seemed to die. On one end of the room was the shrine itself, depicting an ambiguous person holding a sword high above their head, their eyeline stretching even beyond that. Two low fires were lit on either side, as usual, bathing the statue and the entire room in its warm glow.
Scar had never felt that strong of a connection to the Stars’ room. His favorite was probably the Sun’s - with its eternal daylight windows, sandstone walls, and haunting statue of the Sun, with his detailed outstretched wings. Most of all, though, he loved the huge clay pots filled with lavenders. He took great pride in watering them every day and seeing them flourish. He always felt like he was being watched there, and while most of the time it was kind of creepy, there were times where he hid in the solace that someone was keeping an eye - or two, or three - on him there.
But still. Despite his own personal preferences, it made no sense for the Stars’ room to be empty.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it.” Scar said, turning around to leave once the stranger had wandered in. “If you need me, I won’t be far -”
The door slammed shut of its own volition.
Scar spun back around to the stranger, but their back was to him, staring up at the statue.
They sighed. The stars around their head glowed, and it hit Scar like a lightning bolt as he stared up at the statue as well.
“I thank you for your kindness.” the stranger said, turning back around to face Scar with a gentle yet distant smile. “I wished to speak with you alone and meet you away from all of the…drama.”
“You’re the Stars?” Scar asked.
The Stars inclined his head politely. “I am. I understand you are Scar, the temple keeper here.”
Scar suddenly realized that he hadn’t bowed to either of the other gods he met, so he quickly held his right hand over his heart and bowed at the waist before making eye contact once more.
“Uh…would it be rude to ask why all of you guys are suddenly taking such an interest in me?” Scar asked, hoping he didn’t sound too awkward.
“The Sun has taken an interest in you.” the Stars said, turning around to face the thundering rain pattering past the enchanted windows. “We’ve all been checking in, making sure everything’s in order.”
“In order for what? ” Scar cried incredulously. “Mars and the Moon both acted like they were looking for something. The Moon tested me! For what? Why are you all appearing?”
The Stars chuckled, and Scar remembered that the Stars and the Moon had quite the legendary rivalry. “That sounds like her. Did you pass? Prove your worth?”
“I think I did.” Scar shrugged. “But why? ”
“The Sun has taken an interest in you.” the Stars simply repeated.
Scar was ready to rip his hair out. All this secrecy and ominous proclamations was getting on his nerves. “Am I in trouble? Did I do something wrong? I can leave the temple.” he said, with a wave of his hand. “As far as I know, everything seems fine, so if I screwed up you really gotta just let me know.”
“No, no, no trouble.” the Stars said, waving his own hand dismissively. “All good things, I assure you. In fact, it seems like the Sun may pay you a visit himself.”
Seeing Scar’s panic-stricken face, the Stars laughed. “Don’t look so scared! You’ve got nothing to worry about. We’re all in agreement. You’ll be just fine.”
“Fine?” Scar repeated, unsure how to even process that last statement. “Can’t you just say what you’re doing or looking for?!”
The Stars shook his head sadly, but it looked like he was also trying not to laugh, which was not helping. “The Sun will explain everything. In the meantime, just keep doing what you’re doing. Thank you for bringing me here. It’s…nice to visit.”
He looked back up at the statue. Scar felt his hands curl into frustrated fists, but didn’t say anything.
There was a rumble of thunder, and then a hot flash of lightning. Blinded, Scar staggered backwards with his hands over his eyes. When his eyes finally readjusted after the glare, the Stars was gone, leaving nothing but a faint glimmer of light where he’d just been standing.
I. Sun at Dawn
Scar was dead certain that he was going insane.
For a number of reasons.
One, he’d either met or hallucinated meetings with three out of the four major gods within the past few months. That was not normal.
Two, a variety of strange and unusual events had started occurring around him.
He’d been out and about his normal business on a colder day, wearing one of his favorite cloaks. The temple could get drafty, with its high ceilings and stone walls. People often wore robes or cloaks to stave off the chill, especially because Scar lived there. This particular one was a nice green, too yellow to be grass but too green to be lime-y.
When he’d put it on, it had looked completely normal. But when he’d taken it off to hang up at the end of the day, he noticed something exceptionally odd.
Leaves and vines and flower buds were growing on the hem. Right out of the fabric! Scar had run his hands over it, and it felt like it was completely natural.
It was impossible.
So the next day he’d worn his other favorite cloak, the purple one. By the end of the day it, too, was growing flowers out of the hem - beautiful purple lilacs and tiny poppies.
On one hand, it was totally weird and completely impossible. But on the other hand, it looked really cool. Scar took to wearing his two cloaks whenever possible, and was pleased to see magnificent sunflowers begin to grow out of the green cape and to watch the lilacs puff up and thrive off of nothing at all.
Sometimes, if he wore the same cloak for several days in a row, the flowers would start to grow out of his head, too! Like a flower crown that was just…growing. Out of his skull.
It was somewhat terrifying, but when he’d first spied it (in the reflection of a shield, which was part of a statue of the Red King), he’d scrambled back to his secret chamber and raked a brush through it.
The flowers came right out as if they weren’t attached at all.
It was weird, but like the cape, Scar decided to lean into it. It was beautiful.
Much more disturbing than that, though, were the dreams.
No, not dreams - nightmares.
Dreams of blood-soaked deserts and split knuckles. Dreams of cold, lonely mountaintops and the ache of a bowstring under his fingertips. Dreams of a heartbeat outside of his own, or a clock echoing in his ears eternally.
More often than not, he woke up on the verge of tears or screaming. It wasn’t very restful or conducive to living a normal life.
Worst of all were the other people in these dreams. Friends, enemies, and every shade of complicated in between. Sometimes he was alone. Sometimes he was surrounded by people.
In these dreams, he could feel the weight of the connection. Whether it be good or bad, something tethered him to those people.
Until he woke up and knew that none of them were real at all.
Once, he even tried going to Mars’ shrine room and appealing to him personally. There were legends of Mars wheeling and dealing in the realm of visions and the supernatural. To Scar’s surprise, the god himself had appeared, laying on the floor of his room that night after he’d closed up the temple.
“Heard your call.” he said casually, as if he hadn’t just scared a few years off of Scar’s life. “Probably has some significance, but I’m not sure what. Things like that happen.”
“Things like what happen?” Scar asked.
“Memories. Nightmares. Visions. Magic. You can’t really control it. Nobody can.”
Well, if the gods couldn’t control it, Scar was really screwed. It was clear he was on his own.
One night, he had a long dream. Before, he usually forgot his dreams, but he was remembering more and more of these other lives the longer the ordeal went on.
It was horrible. There was a great and terrible war that tore huge gashes into the landscape. Scar watched as people died around him and right under his hands. He saw himself die, once, twice, three times -
He saw the same face. The two of them, together in every convoluted flash of a moment. Laughing. Fighting. Crying. Dying.
He woke up screaming and the room was suddenly far too small.
Despite the early hour, Scar flung the purple cloak around his shoulders and stumbled out of his room and down the dark hallways, clutching his cane. He had a horrible feeling if he looked down, he’d see flowers beginning to grow out of the wood and curling around his fingers.
Scar stumbled into the grand rotunda and looked up out of the domed skylight. The sky was just beginning to light, and the room was just a little dark. The embers of the torches and wall sconces were burning low, but sunrise was surely on its way.
He collapsed onto the floor in the center of the rotunda, staring up and out at the sky. The floor was hard and cold, and it helped to calm his racing heart and cool his sweaty hands.
For a while, Scar just sat there and breathed. Air.
Just a nightmare. Just a nightmare.
At what point was he supposed to be worried? Was it possible that the temple was haunted, and that he’d been cursed by something? Had the Stars and the Moon been lying, and he’d found himself on the wrong side of the gods’ favor?
Inhale. Exhale.
Scar found himself fiddling with the edge of the purple cloak again. The lilacs and poppies had grown into their own, and were beautiful and colorful.
He reached up to feel around the crown of his head, too, and felt the flowers already blooming there. Stray petals had fallen off when he’d laid down, and now they were framing his head like a halo.
“Mind if I join you?”
Scar gasped and sat up quickly, whipping his head back and forth to see the whole room before his eyes fell upon a person. They had beautiful wings the color of a hawk of some other apex predator. They were wearing a red poncho, shorts, and strappy sandals clearly all meant for hot weather. Tucked into their belt was a black and yellow banner and hanging from their other side was an empty sword’s sheath. Their eyes were dark - too dark to see a color from here.
Any other time he would’ve leapt up and engaged in a conversation. Any other time he would’ve asked how the heck they’d gotten in. Any other time he would’ve hesitated. But Scar was utterly exhausted.
“Sure.” he sighed, laying back down. “What’s your name?”
“Grian.” they said, striding over and laying down next to Scar, staring up into the sky.
“My name’s Scar.”
“Nice to meet you.”
They sat there in companionable silence, watching the sky lighten far above them. Even though Scar’s head was in total turmoil, he felt oddly at peace.
“Why are you up at this hour, Scar?” Grian asked.
“Well, that depends. Do you want the easy answer or the heavy answer?” Scar responded.
“Both.”
“Nightmares.”
A beat.
“What sort of nightmares?” Grian prompted.
“Easy answer or heavy answer?”
“Both.”
Scar sighed. He didn’t know what to say. He wanted to talk to someone, but he didn’t know Grian. He didn’t know any of this.
In for a penny, in for a pound.
“Just keep seeing things. Unpleasant things. I keep dying, I keep killing people. The same people…”
Grian sighed as well. “I’ve had dreams like that too. Tastes like betrayal and loneliness.”
Betrayal and loneliness. Scar wasn’t sure if that was it, but it felt similar. The consequences of connection…maybe that was it.
It was stupid. Scar didn’t actually know those people in his dreams, even though he was seeing them every night now. In the dreams, he felt like he knew them.
“Do you see the same people?” Scar asked. “In dreams. That betray you - is it the same people?”
“The same group of people, yes.” Grian responded. They rolled a lilac bloom between their fingers out in front of them.
“I do, too.” Scar said. “I wish I knew them.”
“Sometimes I wish I didn’t know them.” Grian sighed.
Scar blinked. “You know the people in your dreams? That betrayed you?”
Grian shrugged, but the movement was kind of odd because they were laying down.
Scar tried to picture the faces of the people in dreams. Most of them were blurry. Frustratingly so.
Well. Except for one.
Wings. Blond hair. A red poncho, and a banner with a pizza slice on it -
Scar gasped again and sat up in a spray of flower petals, his heart suddenly racing. He looked back over his shoulder at Grian, who stared, glassy-eyed, up at the sky still.
“You.” he said. “I know you. You were there. In the dreams.”
“So were you.” Grian said, not making eye contact. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Scar.”
Scar didn’t know what to do. His heart was hammering in his ears. Nothing made sense. This shouldn’t have been possible.
“I know. It’s a lot. Everybody told me I’d have a lot of explaining to do.”
“Who’s everybody?” Scar shook his head.
“Mars, the Stars, the Moon…” Grian trailed off. “They all told me about you, you know.”
“Who are you?” Scar gasped. It was suddenly very hard to breathe.
“I told you. My name is Grian. But here? They call me the Sun.”
And there it was.
He’d had his suspicions. He’d run, terrified, from a blond pirate like Mars. He’d sat down for cookies with a red-cloaked figure followed by a dozen wolves, her prized pets, just like the Moon. He’d stared at an archer with teal hair from across the battlefield just like the Stars.
He was utterly haunted by the presence of Grian.
The Sun.
“We’ve made our decision.” the Sun said, with a note of finality. “You’re one of us. You’ll be one of us.”
For the first time in a while, Scar didn’t have to ask.
The Sun abruptly sat up and climbed to his feet. Feeling awkward, Scar stood up too. The Sun held out a hand with a smile.
“You don’t have to. But I would consider it an honor if you would.”
Scar gulped and took it, and was astonished as the Sun sank to one knee with his right hand over his heart.
Behind the Sun, four more figures suddenly flicked to life - Mars, the Moon, and the Stars, all flanking the two of them in the dawn.
Scar was pretty sure that this was not standard procedure for ascending to godhood.
What was the standard procedure for ascending to godhood anyway!?
“Scar, the Earth.” the Sun said in a low voice, so quiet that Scar barely even heard them.
Their clasped hands suddenly glowed a violent purple that blazed behind Scar’s eyes.
The Sun smiled and stood back up, stepping back into line with the other four.
Scar felt his lips twist into a smile, somehow, despite the absurdity of the situation.
And after that, nothing was ever the same.
Interlude
Centuries later, it was hard to recall a time where there weren’t five major gods.
It was also hard to recall a time when a new temple keeper was needed, but people die and that’s that.
Joel needed a job. Working as the on-site temple keeper paid surprisingly well, and he got to live there in peace and quiet.
Someone who worked for the city was coming by the temple to interview him and see if he’d be suitable for the job. If he was, he’d move in and start the next day.
Sitting across from him was the interviewer - some sort of zombie hybrid with wild red hair and a clipboard was looking at him with a very judgemental expression.
“Name.” they said.
“Joel Beans.” Joel reported.
“Current occupation?”
“Carriage construction and repairs.”
“Hm. Any criminal history?”
Joel shifted nervously. “No pending charges or anything recent.”
The interviewer eyed him from the top of the clipboard and scribbled something on the page.
If that was what prevented Joel from getting this job, he might consider changing that “no pending charges” thing.
“Any relevant experience?”
“I worked at the arboretum for several years and was a sailor before that. A wide variety of experience and good problem solving skills.” Joel reported, sounding horribly like a textbook.
“Hm.” the interviewer said, making intense eye contact. One of their eyes was milky white - typical of zombie hybrids - and the other and beady and dark, like a tiny black hole. Joel was only just now noticing a small nametag pinned to their colorful shirt which read CLEO.
“I suppose this all seems in order.” they sighed. “You’ll be on a probation of sorts for the first two weeks to see how everything goes. If it goes well, you’ll have the job permanently. Sound good? Any questions?”
“No.” Joel said, nodding once.
“Good.” Cleo said, clicking their pen. “You appear to be a good fit. I’m sure the gods will like you.”
Sometimes, people say things like that. Asking the gods for favors and stuff, that was normal.
But when Cleo said it, it had an odd sort of weight that lingered with Joel through his weeks of probation and eventually getting the job.
It lingered with him when a mysterious figure in a green cloak with sunflowers growing out of their hair approached him, years down the line, with a smile that Joel had only ever seen on statues and stained glass.
“Why, hello there, Joel. The Sun sent me to talk to you.”