The Modern Gods

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The Modern Gods Page 3

by C M Thorne


  Excited energy vibrated off of the thin, dark-haired man as he sucked in a breath. “Well, work was work, but last night,” he grinned, “I went out and ran into that hot guy from my apartments.”

  “Are your regular place?” Thea asked, stretching over her right leg still in the splits.

  “Yes!” he hummed. “I knew he was gay! I just knew it!”

  “He could be bisexual.” Thea poked at him. “Or straight and there with friends.”

  “No!” he objected, and shot his legs forward, laying flat over them and wrapping his hands around his feet. “Not with what he was wearing!” He laughed a little. “And I swear he checked me out! I’m totally going to go for it next time I run into him.”

  “Go for it?” Thea asked, changing into a different stretch.

  “Ask him out, silly!” She could feel the eye-roll as he sighed exaggeratedly. “I am desperate for some loving, Thea. It has been too long.”

  “You just hooked up with that guy you work with not two weeks ago!” She turned to face him as she twisted herself around her crossed legs.

  “I said I need loving,” he laughed, “not just sex. That’s different.”

  Thea nodded and untwisted herself. Chris hit her remote again and the music changed to a more fitting bar routine pace. “Alright, let’s begin!” Chris said cheerfully as everyone got up. There were only six people in class today. Thea followed along mindlessly, letting Chris push her harder than she had done in a while. Class ended and she found herself not just pleasantly sore, but energized.

  “Want to go grab coffee?” Damien asked as he picked up his bag.

  “Um.” Thea thought for a moment. She had a case that she needed to finish up at some point before work on Monday, but she wasn’t too worried. “Sure. That sounds like fun.”

  “Can I tag along?” Chris asked, slipping into her soft pink sweatshirt, which she had cut the neck out of so it rested off her shoulder.

  “Sure! We can strategize how I’m going to bag the hot guy in my complex that I just confirmed is on the market.” Damien mused, doing a little shimmy as the two of them walked out of the room.

  Thea scooped up her bag and trailed after them, switching off the light to the studio and whirling around the corner to the lobby area. Her mother was still sitting at the computer, drumming her fingers against the desk nervously. Thea came up behind her mother and rubbed her shoulder. She jumped and nearly fell off her wooden stool. “Thea!” She yelped.

  “Sorry, mom.” She shrunk away. “You seem stressed. What’s going on?”

  “Oh, nothing.” Her mother pushed her glasses up and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Just problems with an instructor. Don’t worry about it.” She reached out and rubbed Thea’s arm. “Just regular business drama, you know how it can be.”

  Thea gave her a look, but did not pry. “Okay, if you insist.” She moved closer and wrapped an arm around her mother. “I’m going out for coffee. Talk to you later, alright?”

  Her mother nodded. “Love you, bug.”

  She rolled her eyes and peeled away. “Love you too.” She smiled back at her mother as she lightly danced over to the door and pushed outwards.

  Thea turned to the parking lot and froze. The sky was rapidly darkening and rumbling with thunder. She noticed Damien and Chris over by Damien’s car, looking up at the sky in awe. No rain fell, but the sky erupted into a massive explosion of lightning. She heard someone screaming, but could not tell who it was. She tried to look away from the sky, but her body wouldn’t cooperate. She was frozen, utterly helpless, as angry white energy stabbed down from the sky and struck her. Her whole body exploded with pain, hot and burning. She felt the electric pain spread throughout her entire body and then everything went black.

  Thea woke up with every inch of her body throbbing. Her eyes burned as she tried to look up into blinding light, and her ears rang. There was no discernible way to tell where she was with her senses so raw at first. She blinked slowly and realized that Damien and Chris were at her side. Their mouths were moving, weirdly too slow and silent. She tried to move, but her body felt heavy, muscles too weak to contract, to move. Thea looked around as her eyes cleared and she remembered that she had been outside her mother’s dance studio. She was laying on the parking lot now though, and the sky was full of heavy, dark grey clouds. She cocked her head, dragging across the asphalt as the sky opened up and fat drops of rain came down. Thea gasped, remembering the pain of the lightning streaking down and ripping through her body.

  “Wa-,” she stuttered, “was I struck by lightning?” Sound came rushing back as she spoke. She winced as the sounds of the street assaulted her. “Ugh!” She tried to move, rolling partially to her side and pushing against the asphalt. Chris and Damien helped pull her to a seated position.

  “Hun,” Chris’s normally chipper demeanor had turned serious and her brown eyes searched Thea’s grey ones with concern. “You weren’t just struck,” she continued, “it like flo-, flowed into you for like a full minute.”

  “What?” Thea breathed out. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Thea, your whole body like lit up,” Damien spoke softly. “You glowed, like from the inside. It was wild. You, you should be dead.”

  Thea looked down at her hands in confusion. Nothing about her had changed from the outside. She knew that those struck by lightning had an exit spot, so she pulled her feet to her, slipping her flip-flops off. Her feet were fine. “It didn’t leave my body,” Thea breathed out.

  “What?” Chris asked.

  “The lightning didn’t leave my body,” she said louder. “It had to leave the body somewhere and it leaves a mark, like a burn or a wound.” She shook her head. “I can’t find one on me.”

  “Ok, that’s it.” Chris shook her head as she stood up and offered her hand to Thea. “We are taking you to the hospital.”

  Thea took her hand and allowed herself to be pulled up to her feet. She looked down at her body, but nothing seemed amiss. Nothing indicated that she had just weathered what sounded like the most massive lightning strike in history. “I don’t need to go to the hospital,” Thea finally said, flexing her hands in amazement.

  “What! Excuse me?” Chris practically screeched, looking dubious as she seemed to search Thea’s eyes for an answer. “And why the hell not?”

  “Because,” Thea watched her hands with a smile, “I feel fine. Better than fine, actually.”

  CHAPTER 3: NEWFOUND STRENGTH

  OSKAR BARRISON STOPPED mid-step. He was alone, hiking near the top of Halti, approaching the Norway border. He wasn’t sure what made him stop, but the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He tilted his head up to the sky as it darkened, and his body felt a surge of power. The air felt charged, and then a moment later, the pressure snapped. A forest of dancing lightning ripped through the air. The disguise he was wrapped in fell away, leaving him on the mountaintop with his full godhood shining about him.

  His amber eye disappeared, leaving the scarred over, empty socket next to his real, remaining grey eye. His trimmed white hair and beard were freed, growing out past his shoulders and streaking with otherworldly silver. His power haloed him in golden light and the soft lines around his eyes faded away.

  His careful, human disguise of Oskar, corporate magnate of Germany and Scandinavia, was gone in a breath. He was the All-Father astride the mountains of his home, Odin in all his glory, king of the Norse gods and one of the strongest deities in the world. All the worlds, in fact. His form surged with renewed vigor that could have only come from the death of another pantheon’s ruling monarch. One less being to divide ruling right of the cosmic existence.

  The sky told him it was Zeus, the Sky-Father. He was one of his oldest allies. The Greeks and the Norse had formed a friendship in long gone, ancient days, when they had sectioned off their corners of the human world. Roman conquest had threatened their alliance, but the two kings had managed to remain friends. Odin could not believe that Zeus had be
en so unexpectedly torn from the world. To kill a god was no easy task, especially one of his strength and age. He paused for a moment, looking to the sky to bid his friend farewell. This was nothing to do now.

  He let out the deep breath he had gathered in his lungs slowly, summoning his magic about him and allowing it to take him away, dissolving him into the great streams of energy, the branches that connected all realms, and move him to his son, Thomas. He stepped back out into the world in Thomas’ Oslo penthouse. The air wavered around him unnaturally as he took shape, pulling forth the human features he had been wearing to shield his divinity. He had stepped into the large, modern family room of the penthouse, which all rooms branched off from. Low, muted seating was arranged to look out over the city that opened up beyond the two-story windowed wall at Oskar’s back. A voice drew his attention up to the top of the metal stairs against the far wall.

  “Father,” Thomas padded down the stairs, tone high and questioning. He was wearing baggy, flannel pants and was shirtless. Oskar’s mind reached out and he found that they were not alone. He had interrupted something. “Has someone died,” Thomas asked softly as he came close. “I felt myself grow stronger just now.”

  Oskar nodded and mouthed, “Zeus.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “We need to have a family meeting.” He looked his son in the eyes as he ran his hands through his short, golden-red hair. His beard was fiery red and his eyes were silver grey like Oskar’s actual eye. “Dispense of whomever is upstairs, son.”

  Thomas looked back upstairs, hand lifting up to scratch the back of his head. It was a tick of his son’s. A sign that he was nervous. “Actually,” Thomas started to speak, but was interrupted by the sound of the woman’s heels on the stairs behind him. She had long raven hair, towering black heels, and a tight, deep purple dress. Oskar did not recognize her, even as she turned to smile at him. He did feel the power resting behind the shape she was wearing however. Thomas looked down as he spoke, “Father, I believe you’ve met Sonia Orlova.”

  Oskar nodded, “A pleasure, child.” He was not sure which of the remaining Slavic gods she was, it had been long since he had directly courted with them.

  “The pleasure is mine, All-Father,” she answered and nodded her head in respect. “If you’ll forgive me, I need to get going.”

  “Of course,” Oskar replied, smiling at her through pressed lips.

  She put her hand on Thomas’ arm as she turned, “I’ll contact you later.” He nodded back to her and watched her leave.

  Her heels clicked down the hall and the door closed behind her with a soft whisper. Thomas turned back to Oskar and made a face at him, “Don’t say anything, I already know, father. Let me go change. Go ahead and summon the family.” He walked back towards the cement steps of the floating stairs and bounded back up to his room.

  Oskar shook his head and walked over to the large wall of windows that overlooked the city. He reached out with his power and summoned the other members of his family. He could have called, but doing it this way ensured that he would reach them all. He closed his eyes as he sent out his summons, exhaling as he let go and opened his eyes once more. His grandsons, Mathias and Moritz, materialized in the penthouse, answering the call first. They both had dark hair and striking grey eyes, resembling Oskar in his youth.

  “Grandfather,” Mathias acknowledged him. “What is going on? Everything alright?”

  Oskar held up a hand as he answered, “The family is fine. I will explain once everyone is here.”

  His granddaughter materialized next to him with a fizzling pop. Tanja was the boys’ older half-sister. Of his grandchildren, Oskar had always liked her best. She wore a slate-blue pantsuit with a silky white blouse, thick golden hair waving around her shoulders. Oskar nodded to her and she clasped his shoulder before walking over to her father’s bar.

  “Anyone else want a drink?” Tanja asked as she stepped behind the bar.

  Oskar’s wife, Francesca, walked out of the kitchen a moment later and answered, “Yes, please.” She met Oskar’s eyes across the room, “Husband.”

  “Wife,” he nodded to her, trying not to sound amused in his response. She was currently upset with him and they were living apart. It had been ninety odd years since they had spent more than five minutes around each other. Luckily, Henrik, one of the cousins materialized near the front door a moment later, followed by cousin Ilsa. They both said their hellos and Thomas came back down from his room, embracing his cousins quickly.

  Oskar watched as his family mingled and Tanja made martinis quickly. The twins, his adopted children Frederick and Gemma Von Essen , popped into the room to his left not a moment before Gemma’s daughters, Helena and Gisella did as well. He had hoped that his call would have reached his own brothers, Vili and Ve, but they had not been seen in over four millennia. He feared that they had fallen into the unending sleep of dormancy. Gemma’s husband, Otto, had not shown up either, but he had left her nearly three centuries ago and no one had seen or heard from him since.

  This was his family now. Twelve gods were all that was left of his once mighty pantheon. Many had fallen and others had faded away. Those that were left were the strongest, thankfully.

  “Family,” Oskar interrupted their side conversations and waited for all eyes to turn to him, “I have called you here for one reason. Zeus has been killed.” They all gasped and began muttering and asking questions. He held up his hand to silence them, “I do not know what happened, other than that both Thomas and myself felt empowered as the sky sang out for Zeus.”

  Frederick stood up from the spot he had taken on the long grey couch with his sister. He kept his mortal guises close to true form, a thin, towering blond man with mint green eyes. He was just as tall as Oskar and held a similar air of authority. “I too felt something,” he looked around the room. “It was as if I was young once more, father.

  “How?” Francesca asked from the wall she was leaning against near the stairs. “You shared no dominion with the Greek.”

  “Apollo,” Frederick answered quietly, eyes drifting out past Oskar to the stormy clouds on the horizon. “I cannot think of any other, but Apollo. I must not have felt the way you two did, as I do not hold absolute power over the sun as he did.”

  “And there are quite a few sun gods left,” Thomas snickered a little.

  Oskar shot him a look and turned towards the windows, watching the cars buzz through the streets and the boats lazily make their way across the water beyond. Humanity went on despite the loss the gods had suffered. Would they ever know? He looked back at his family, who all looked concerned and confused. “Someone must be making a grab for power. We need to prepare for war.”

  “We should reach out to the Greeks then, father,” Thomas offered.

  “We will,” he waved his hand dismissively. “But, we do not know who has initiated this. We need to be cautious in all of our interactions with the other pantheons. Time to close ranks,” he pointedly looked at his son, narrowing his eyes. Thomas looked away from him, and Oskar had a feeling in his gut that he would have to watch his son. Unfortunately, Thomas took after Oskar in more ways than one. His love for women would be his downfall, if he did not change his ways. Oskar had lost too many children already, he would not allow his son to fall prey to the schemes of a Slavic temptress.

  After the meeting broke down into other conversations, Oskar caught Gemma’s attention and nodded towards the kitchen, before walking out of the large living space. He passed Tanja and Francesca, who were both pouring what had to be their fifth round of martinis since their respective arrivals. Gods had a much higher tolerance, but he worried about being around his wife drunk. Ilsa had taken to the kitchen as well, busy whipping something up as she always did. She wore her pale blonde hair in a long braid, pulled back away from her face and she smiled at Oskar before turning and flurrying about the kitchen.

  He watched the city until Gemma came up on his right. Gemma’s golden hair fell perfectly between her shoulde
r blades in loose waves, and her white dress clung in just the right places, hem ghosting the ground as she moved. Oskar considered her to be his greatest protégé. He had taken her natural dominion over love and beauty, taught her magic, and made her formidable. As she grew, her dominion grew with her, encompassing war and death.

  “You needed me, father?” she asked, voice smooth and velvety.

  “I need you to see if Thomas feels anything meaningful for the woman he is seeing.”

  Gemma arched one manicured eyebrow in silent question and raised her glass to her lips, gold rings catching the light. It matched the gold dangling from her ears and sitting in the hollow of her throat. She did enjoy being a little opulent.

  “Sonia,” Oskar answered the unspoken question.

  “Orlova?” Gemma asked quietly, emerald green eyes scanning the city.

  “Indeed,” Oskar answered.

  Gemma nodded and turned away, silently walking back over to the others, despite the fact that she was wearing strappy, golden heels. She never made noise when coming or going. It was one of the first skills he had taught her when she was still a young girl, and she never dropped the enchantment. From the kitchen, Ilsa watched him, hands busy stirring something that Oskar couldn’t see. She glanced away, but Oskar walked over.

  “What are you making?” Oskar asked, looking towards where the kitchen opened up to the living room.

  “Oh,” Ilsa looked down, “uh, I was just making a pie to go with the other food I have in the ovens.” She motioned towards the double ovens on the far wall. “Nothing special,” she shrugged, avoiding eye contact.

  Oskar stood there for a minute, watching her work and trying to determine what was going through her mind. She seemed nervous, but no more so than anyone else who had someone watching over their shoulder. He finally looked away the sitting room where Gemma was talking to his son, hand wrapped around the back of his upper left arm, most likely to get a better read on his feelings. After a few moments, Gemma let her hand trail down Thomas’ arm and laughed at something her said. Ilsa had been busy working around him and he hardly noticed her until she blocked his sightline to take a plate of hot meat pies out to the others.

 

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