A Wayward God

by Natasha Weber

I couldn’t stand. All my eyes opened again, and I frowned. For the first time in forever, I felt tears streaming down my cheeks. Years and years of pent up pain and frustration leaking out my eyes. Heidi stood in front of me and put her arms around me. I knelt down and held her in my embrace, craving affection and any kind of emotion of fondness.

  Asher leapt, pushed Heidi out of the way, and pinned me to the ground.

  “Asher, wait—it’s me—I’m back to normal!”

  Asher looked like an animal—a wild crazy look in his eyes—and I was scared. A new sensation.

  But after a moment, he calmed down. “If it weren’t for Katharos, I’d kill you.”

  He got to his feet and walked off into the woods. Presumably to find Katharos. I shot a glare after him. It was petty, but… I didn’t like him.

  Heidi, still sitting on her rump, climbed to her feet and smoothed her dress down. “How long are you going to hide behind Justice and Vengeance, Joshua? When will you solve your own problems and deal with life like an adult?” She gave me a hand. I took it and lifted myself to my feet.

  “They are apart of me. I cannot simply shut them off…” I told her.

  “Well, you have to shut them off when you’re down here. They’re dangerous. You could have killed Katharos… my dearest friend.” Heidi murmured.

  I was sickened with myself. Even the mention of the possible death of someone as special as Katharos made my heart skip with worry. I never liked being told what to do, however, which was petty as well…

  “If you make a mistake, you’re the one who’s going to be stuck with that mistake forever. If you accidentally end up hurting one of us… what will happen to you?”

  My blood cooled. Even now… she was worried about me. But even more surprisingly, was how she seemed to understand me. She understood me better than any mortal had a right to understand a divine identity. But, more surprisingly, was that I did not understand her. I should be better than that.

  “I—wish I could turn them off…” I told her.

  She smiled. “Joshua, when I first met you, I thought that you were a snot. Someone who thought they were above everyone else and someone who was so above it all that nothing could faze them. I see now that… you are very insecure. You’re a lot like me. You want to be hugged too, don’t you?” She asked with a trembling lip.

  I gave her a look. I didn’t know what she was talking about. “I am not…”

  “No, you are. You hid it well at first but…” she looked at me, like she was looking at a reflection of herself. “The fact that you’re like me… it proves that you care more about me—about us—than I thought. I thought—if you existed at all—that you were so high above us you didn’t care anything about us. That you thought we were just numbers… you don’t think that, do you? You actually want to help us. That’s why it’s so hard for you to watch us and you hide behind Justice and Vengeance, isn’t it? You don’t want to watch us hurt one another?”

  “I wish you would leave.” I replied bitterly.

  She wasn’t affected. She knew I cared; at least about her if no one else.

  Later that night, I met up with Katharos again just before he was about to sleep. When he saw me, he gave me a frightened look and backed away. Asher stepped in front of him, but Katharos held up a hand. He approached me slowly, with Asher backing him. “Hello,” he said awkwardly, smoothing his clothes down.

  “Hello,” I replied. “I’m sorry. They’re good for judging, but not so much for communicating.”

  Katharos smiled awkwardly. “No… it is no trouble. You owe us nothing… but I—that is, did you lie to me before? Was I meant to die that day? Why else would he be so intent on…” He shook visibly and said no more.

  “No.” I lied with much heartache. So much pain involved with dealing with mortals when I wanted nothing more than to bury my head in the sand.

  “I see. Good.” He looked away. “Does Vengeance not like me? Have I not done well in his eyes?”

  “You have done nothing wrong… it is my own fault. I never want you to blame yourself.”

  Katharos looked ashamed. “You have to say that, because you are a God and required to love us all…”

  For the longest time, I’d tried to convince myself that that was true. But it wasn’t. I had to accept now that I hated many mortals. Recently, I’d discovered I could not go on in my life attempting to love all mortals. It made you feel sick if you tried to force yourself to love a killer, and sicker to live under a preposterous lie. But telling him so might frighten him—might make him think I was wont to kill him whenever I pleased—so I said nothing.

  “Well… goodnight.” Katharos said, looking a little shaken. He turned and marched into his tent to sleep. Asher stood there for a moment. I didn’t like him. Disliking who the Mahesha was one thing, openly killing them just for what they were was another.

  “You are the reason I have such trouble loving mortals like I’m meant to.” I said gloomily.

  “And you are the reason everyone is losing faith in the Gods. I know what you are, really. You are hardly above mortals when you should be. You are shallow, crude… yet you’re worse because you pretend to be better.”

  “I am not the one who murdered innocent men and women simply for walking onto my territory.” I retorted.

  Asher was silent for a moment. Then he said, “the Mahesha are a disgusting people, simply because of who they worship, they justify killing, maiming, even rape for their so called God. If that is what worshipping a God means, I want no part of it. And I wish you’d quit corrupting Katharos by making him think you are a beacon he should look up to.”

  “Katharos made that decision himself. He knows that the whole of a people are not the same as one.”

  “Easy for one so distanced to say. One who looks on from above in different personages and kills as he pleases.” Asher countered.

  “Killing is my job, and a necessary part of life. I do not kill because I like it like you do.” I stated simply.

  He was quiet then. For a moment, he was deep in thought—somewhere else, it appeared—perhaps reclining within the deep recesses of his soul. “I do not like killing. No mortal with a firm grasp on things does. It makes you feel sick, and only makes things worse, I realize that, but… Long ago, the Mahesha marched upon this land and tried to claim it as their own in the name of the Dead God, Destruction. I saw them drag my son into the darkness of the forest and I never saw him again. Every time I close my eyes… I just can’t get it out of my head. Three years ago, when Katharos was here negotiating a treaty with my people, he saved my life. They were going to put me to death, because I killed a Maheshan who had come as a merchant, and who I mistook for a spy. But Katharos stuck up for me. He rescued me and told them he would instead take me as his body-guard if they would let him, and in return he would send soldiers as sentries to guard the perimeter of Elysia. He reminds me of my son…. If you step one more violent foot towards him again, I swear I will cut it off.”

  I was shocked. My facial expression even read so. Not because of his threats, or because he was apparently a loving father, or even that Katharos was unafraid of a murderer. I was shocked because I thought of this man as one-dimensional. That there was no reason for his madness, and he was simply a despicable mortal—the type I was glad to be rid of—but he wasn’t. He had as much depth and complexes as Heidi and Katharos. I struggled to think that someone could love so much, and kill so well at the same time. And that was when I realized—it was not they that were one-dimensional—it was me. My mind was so narrow and closed off that I never dreamed to think that there was more to any of these people I met than what met the eye. I was ashamed. But I was also angry because I was wrong, and I tried to come up with a suitable argument, but I could find none. And when nothing was left, and I realized I was wrong, I found it easier to say, “I am sorry. I didn’t realize.”

  Asher raised an eyebrow. “Don’t ask for my forgivenes
s. I know how lowly I am, and I have no forgiveness to give. But you should be apologizing to Katharos until the day you die. He will never forget what happened.”

  I felt very lethargic then. “But you see… Gods do not die. It is I who will never forget.”

  We left with Katharos the next day with a contingent of about two-hundred soldiers. I wasn’t feeling well—in fact, I was very distant--Heidi, being the charmingly sarcastic girl I knew her to be, made the same face I was making.

  “I am fine,” I even gave a slight laugh at her facial expression.

  She blinked. “I’ve never heard you laugh before.”

  I covered my mouth. How undignified. Where I could have my solitude and my peaceful night sky; where I was safe.

  She laughed. “It’s okay, I like it. But don’t do it again, it’s creepy,” she joked.

  We’d been walking through the dark woods for hours now, and the soldiers were all giving me and Katharos strange looks.

  I received the strange looks because I had turned into an entirely different entity, and Katharos received them because he was the victim of that entity. They wondered, I knew, what Katharos had done to deserve my wrath, and I wondered if I should tell them to allay their fears as I was worried for Katharos, but decided against it. I needed their prayers and faith to stand up to my brother. I could not tell them of my flaws.

  We emerged