Goddess of Chaos and The Chaoskeeper
ooc|| I managed to get back into this tumblr. Time to put this drabble where it belongs instead of on an old personal blog. Goodnight, Sen. Thank you for everything, you fiery thing.||
The flowers that once adorned the goddess were wilted, their petals dropping into the tangles of hair that once glimmered so softly. The moss long ago dried and crumbled to nothing, the vines splintered and snapped. The once-quite-dead Ringmaster slowly came to awareness and this was the first thing he saw. Despite appearances, he recognized Gaia.
He recognized that she was dying.
The sallow tone to her skin, empty veins protruding through crepe paper wrists, splitting nails, dry lips… The creator of all had nothing left.
Slowly, he spoke.
“Why am I here, Gaia?”
He remembered dying. He remembered the pain, the cold, the dark, the warmth, the flames, the screams, everything in blues and whites and sickly yellow greens. His eyes cast down towards his midsection and saw nothing amiss any longer. An explosion of all things had taken him out. He never did find out what that was about…
“You’re needed, Loyal.”
Her voice was quivering. The splits in her nails and cracks in the vines seemed to have spread to her vocal cords. She was weak.
“Why? I’m not surprised, but what could you want of me?”
“Sentinel,” came the answer in a soft, centuries-tired sigh. “The mortal realm is all but destroyed. I can’t control her. Her powers… I can’t take them back and nobody can touch her. I only intended to make her a minor God but she… She’s looking for you. My children have tried, they've… given everything, the God realms are filled with mortals seeking refuge… I have nothing left. I’ve given you nearly all I had, please… Use it wisely, Loyal, please…”
The words visibly drained more life from her as she spoke, more flower petals tumbling to the forest floor. He finally noticed that the nearly-fallen Goddess was sitting, her back supported by a pile of fallen branches. The once vibrant forest clearing around him was dry, dead, cracked.
“Very well.”
Gaia breathed a soft, tired sigh of relief and slowly raised one hand. She touched it to the Ringmaster’s cheek and he recoiled. With tears in her eyes, she waved her hand and transported him to what remained of the mortal realm.
Fire.
There was a lot of fire.
Smoke clouded the skies as it billowed up from rubble. In the distance, a hint of sun still shone. The world hadn’t quite given up yet.
There wasn’t much time to explore before she appeared, having sensed life.
Sentinel’s eyes glowed brightly, her hair a mess, her hands black, her bare feet muddied. But her clothing was clean, pristine white, just daring anyone to lay a hand on her. Her eyes grew wide at the sight of the Ringmaster.
“Oh, Gaia, you think you can fool me? After all these years you still try to fool me with your imposters? Have you learned nothing, have you not grown tired of watching me flay your children alive? You could have fixed this years ago when you had the chance, but no! You chose this, Gaia, you chose this world for your children, you chose this life and death and torture!” She bellowed at the sky, her hands clenched into tight fists. “You chose every single thing that’s happened here, you did this, you did this to everyone! YOU. KILLED. EVERYONE!”
What exactly had Gaia given him? He could feel a faint buzz in his veins, a lightness in his lungs, a whole second world behind his mind waiting to be unlocked. He knew it contained a plethora of knowledge. He was a God now, wasn’t he? Or a demi-God? Could he tell? He could worry on that later, he supposed. At the moment the Sentinel’s crazed eyes met his own, he felt a weight settle in his chest. Hadn’t Gaia said other Gods had died at the Sentinel’s hands?
She lunged at him as the thought crossed his mind and he stepped to the side, moving faster than he could recall moving in pre-death.
“Not so fast, Cherie, I’m none too pleased with you,” he said loudly, ducking under her grasp. Her fingertips smoked as they narrowly missed his hair. That explained the fires everywhere, he supposed.
And they danced.
They swung and grabbed, fingers clutching at thin air, never quite making contact. It was a performance, a play, never quite making progress but far from stagnant. It stretched out for hours, their dance. The sun set and rose again, bringing a soft haze of fog to dampen the smoke.
One fell and the other followed, slipping in the dust. Finally, contact. Sentinel’s eyes glowed ever more brightly at the first touch and she wavered.
She would still win. She always did. This one was just tougher. Gaia was really giving it her all, now. Sentinel could do this forever.
The Ringmaster clenched his fist and he felt a gentle, cool weight settle in to his gloved palm. A throwing knife, perfectly moulded to fit the contours of his hand. As he swung at the frenzied Sentinel, the tip of the blade paused for only a moment as it made contact with her thigh. The centuries old scar, preserved from one of their very first encounters, split open and welcomed the knife like an old friend.
And she bled.
For him, she bled.
Her mouth fell open and she stilled, teal eyes staring into his. It was him. There was no other explanation as crimson rapidly spread from the knife in the light of the sunrise, hungrily staining the fabric covering her leg. No other managed a touch, and now, she bled.
The Ringmaster stared down at her guardedly, a frown on his lips as he held the knife in place. They were both breathless, their immortal bodies relishing the moments of recovery.
“Cherie… Do you… have any idea what you’ve done?” He knew now, his newfound senses intertwining with hers. He could sense every tendril of her power, everything that made her the Goddess of Chaos. And he knew now that he was the Chaoskeeper.
A weak, tearful laugh as shaking hands rose up to grasp painted cheeks.
“I-I won, Loyal, don’t you see? I burned the world for you, and I won.”
