"Heroes of Light! I thank you for releasing me! Now I can bestow my gifts to each of- Uh… wait, is it just you?”
"Yes," she said flatly. Her nails, still caked with dirt, were digging into her gloved palms. "It's just me."
The god blinked, their wide, silvery eyes reflecting her like a mirror. Her hair was matted, her skin was filthy, her armour was black with muddy debris. Two blurry tear tracks split down her cheeks, cutting through the coating of grime and blood. Her sword was dragging along the ground beside her, its blade dripping with gore, its hilt clutched in one leaden hand.
"It's just me," she repeated quietly. "And your gifts aren't worth the lives it took to get them."
The god paused halfway through pulling a pristine golden sword from thin air. "Ah." They hesitated. "Are you, er, completely sure?" they checked delicately. "Only, they are some very good gifts, forged in sunfire and all, worthy of the heroes - sorry, hero who rescued the god of light. Very helpful for defeating dark kings and other evil forces."
Her hand clenched around the hilt of her sword, knuckles turning white beneath the grime. "Tell me," she bit out. "Have you ever lost a loved one?"
The god opened their mouth.
"Don't answer. I don't care." The sword scraped against the ground as she took a step forward. "I lost four. All of us set out to rescue you, and only one of us survived. The rest of them died for this. They're dead." Her voice broke on the last word. "Do you even know their names?"
The god shifted awkwardly. "Uh..."
"Darelious was first. Killed by a cursed shortsword. One moment he was laughing, the next he'd collapsed and wouldn't get back up. Even magic couldn't save him." His heavy body had collapsed into her as she was turning away, the sword through his neck. The blood, hot and sticky, had been blinding.
"Then it was Vigil. She was a wizard, and she sold his soul to a demon to keep it from killing the rest of us. He's in the hells now, and I'm never getting him back." She heard him in her dreams. He used to scream. Now, there was nothing but broken sobs.
"Claire. Lux was a cleric - one of your worshippers. Dark hair, gold eyes, kind as anything. There was a lock that would only open if someone's lifeblood was spilled on it. Obviously we all agreed to find another way around, but we couldn't, and we were exhausted, so we slept. In the morning, the door was open, and lux was dead." Lux had done it luxself, for the god in front of her. Had thought it was luxes duty. She had just stared numbly luxes cold corpse and wondered how any god could be worth all this.
"Reve. Thief, gambler, loyal to a fault. We were attacked by a monster bigger than we could handle. They sacrificed themselves so I could live." Their desperate eyes, their shaking hands, the burn of their lips on hers as they snatched one last kiss. Then they had shoved her into the river and ran into battle alone. Her throat was still raw from screaming.
"They all died." She barked out a harsh, bitter laugh. "And for what? For you? For some stupid weapons?" Her aching, exhausted muscles burnt as she raised the sword, pointing its shaky tip at the god. "You owe them your life, four times over. And I'm here to collect that debt."
The god's brow furrowed. "Wait, how are you going to kill me four times?"
She wanted to scream. THAT'S what you're focusing on?
"You're immortal, aren't you?" she answered through gritted teeth. "Indulge me."
Prompt from @ writing-prompt-s
