Once upon a time, there was a foolish god.
He was a god of innocence and freedom, adventure and travel, but also a god of foolishness. He was an important god. Alongside his twenty one siblings, he was one of those who had created this world. Despite this, what he loved more than anything was to simply wander the world and watch it change within what seemed to be the blink of an eye compared to his immortal life, until...he met that soul. That soul was a mere human, an ant compared to the majesty of a heavenly being, but to the foolish god they were everything.
"Halt! Don't touch those flowers!" The foolish god was standing amidst a field of purple flowers, stretching as far as the eye could see, about to pick himself a few to braid into a flower crown as he often did back in those days.
"Good sir, you must not be from here. Those flowers are poisonous," exclaimed the youth as they came running across a small hill, "you really- you really shouldn't touch them." They had completely exhausted themselves sprinting across the field just to warn the foolish god and now stood hunched over with their hands on their knees panting right before him.
What a kind soul, to care so much for a stranger.
"Thank you," said the fool, his smile audible in his voice "I am merely a wanderer from afar. There are many things I don't know about this place. Your kindness has saved this fool from a terrible death!"
The youth laughed at the fool's dramatic exclamation. It was a wonderful sound.
"It's not quite as severe as death," explained the youth, still laughing "but it would've surely caused quite an uncomfortable-" as they finally lifted their head and their eyes met, the youth couldn't help but falter. That "mere wanderer", as the stranger had introduced themselves, was a beauty as they had never before laid their eyes upon. His skin was as bright and pure as the finest porcelain, his ebony black curls fluttered in the light breeze grazing the fields, and his deep dark eyes seemed to shine with an etherial glow as they reflected the setting sun. And yet, he was wearing clothes of a peasant, as simple as the youth's. A stark, almost jarring contrast, they thought.
"Yes? An uncomfortable...?"
"A-a rash. An uncomfortable rash, painful even."
The fool again smiled at the youth. It was a warm and gentle smile and the youth couldn't help but look away as they felt the heat rise to their ears and cheeks.
"Uhm, si- since you are a wanderer," stammered the youth before clearing their throat "I suppose you don't yet have a place to stay the night. Why don't you come with me? I was about to head back to the village, I can lead you the way. My house is small and modest but certainly enough to offer a roof over the head to a guest."
That night was the first of thousands the two of them would spend together.
theartofmadeline
discoholicmusic
yousharknotpass
snowghoul
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
dailybridgerton
gracieabrams
