A dying god, long forgotten, drew from his limited quantity of ragged breaths.
"Margerett. My dear. I fear…" His form faded just a little more, destabilizing his speech.
"I fear you may, in fact, outlive me." He chuckled, the irony not lost on him. He, an immortal, would perish before a mere mortal woman.
Not that she was any better off considering her age, "Oh dear ***** you-"
That got a pause out of her, confusion marring her face, "Your name… No, I still remember it, its **-"
"Dont bother." He sighed as his shoulders sagged, realization weighing down on his incorporeal shoulders heavily.
"The belief and remembrance of one mortal tethering me to life for so long is enough. Thank you for remembering me- for loving me. But today… It'll be my last." The nameless god huffed out golden dust, dried ichor escaping his form and seeping into the air.
"I…" She stammered, emotions high.
"Your powers! You still have them, right? Your divine authority?" She asked- no, she pleaded with him as tears threatened to fall from her eyes.
"For now? Yes. But-" He wheezed fiercely, coughing up more divine essence. The pain slithering through him like a snake.
"But every moment I spend fighting my destined end only burns more of it." He admitted, a self placating smile adorned his face.
"Then don't waste it. Use it." Margerett said shakily, an idea beginning to form.
"You haven't had any kids since you met me, right? Way back when I was but a school girl…" She began as her tears finally succumbed to gravity.
"Marg, no-" He tried to argue, his golden ichor throbbing clearly beneath his half-translucent skin.
"No nothing! I refuse to let you die and be fully forgotten. If you have another kid… you'll live on, at least in a sense. It's why we mortals have kids, y'know?" She explained, putting on a brave face that was about as effective at a ground type attack to a flying type.
"But at your age? And with my remaining strength… I can't ensure you'll survive childbirth." He tried to explain again, pleading for her to change her mind.
"Dont bother. Just ensure our baby is strong enough to live without us. Strong enough-" Her voice choked up as sobs arose, her form trembling with emotion.
"Are you sure dear?" He couldn't even fight against his own tears and impending end, much less her decision,
At that, she only stroked his fading skin, feeling his essence slip from reality, "I'm Certain, ***- I mean, my great god of knowledge, games and growth. I love you, I'll make sure you live on." She said, invoking his divine domains in place of his divine name.
"Even if your name has been lost, our child's name will be immortalized in history."
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"Auntie…" a young boy with dirty blond hair and red-brown eyes called out.
"Yes sweetpea?" The older lady responded.
"What's this?" He said, pointing in front of him.
"Whats what dearie?" She asked, following his finger, only to be directed at an empty wall.
"This." He repeated distractedly.
"The wall?" She asked, confused.
"Uhh, no? It's? A little wall, I guess. But flying! What is it?" We asked again.
An expression of unease clawed its way onto her face beyond the boy's vision, "But you're only five… No, not yet."
"Wha?" He asked, slowly looking at her, deeply entranced by the 'little flying wall'.
"Nothing. Just… Stop messing with that. It can bring danger." She explained uncertainly as she began packing their bags.
"Aunty Barbara? What you mean?" The boy was crestfallen. He had found a new toy, something to learn about. And he was most curious, it was in his nature.
"I know you love to learn dearie, but please… Leave it alone. And if you see it again let me know okay?" She explained.
"Ogay." He mumbled out, tearie eyed.
"Now help me pack your bags." She said with a bit of a bite.
"Did I do something wrong again?" he hesitantly asked, his reddish eyes making his tear stricken eyes appear all the sadder.
"Uh-" She almost spoke too quickly, "Nnn… No. You didn't do anything wrong, Jojo. Just pack your bags."
This reply didn't seem to soothe him all too much.
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"...A zombie?"
"Johan!" Aunt Barbara called out.
"Yes Auntie?" Answered Johan, the very same red-brown eyed boy answered, now a pre-teen.
"Stop staring!" She hissed out.
"But that man looks-" He tried to explain.
"Shush! Not another word, Jo." She ordered.
Johan was appalled.
'Is she serious? He looks like he's decaying in his seat!' His face changed multiple times, from shock to confusion and scrutiny before he settled on anger.
'No! She always does this! What the hell?'
"But he looks-" He began to say, his voice climbing.
"Johan Quincy Cole! I just told you! That is enough!" She ordered sharply, trying to walk away from the man Johan stared at.
In his rage, he ignored a screen that appeared in front of him-
[Skill Gained -
[Name: Barbara Cole
Titles: Caretaker of *** ***** Miracle, Clear Sighted Mortal
Race: Human
Age: 68
Occupation: Street Baker
Skills:
Description: A clear sighted mortal, younger sister of {The ******* Bearer}. She takes care of {*** ***** Miracle} and protects him from things that would hint at his true nature. She's also a very good baker, which she puts to good use to sell pastries and cakes on the street whenever she needs money. Which is often considering she constantly needs to change homes.]
"You're always doing this!" He yelled, causing the winds around him to swirl in anticipation.
Barbara's eyes shook and widened in fear, her gaze flitting over at the 'man' that caused this outburst.
"Everytime someone looks weird, or whenever someone's walking around with a sword or-or- or- Or something- anything! You always just brush it off or shut me down! Aren't parents supposed to encourage their children to learn?!" He screamed at her, his emotions bubbling up unnaturally.
It felt as if flames of fury were climbing out of his throat and ravaging everything. It felt hot coming out, like speaking molten lava, but he didn't stop. No, to hold this in would be worse.
"Jojo, please-" She shakily tried to placate him.
"Oh wait! You're not my parent!" Nearby plants seemed to cower in fear as the winds near him picked up further, shaking in the face of an awakening. Or maybe it was cringe from his little tantrum.
Either way, Johan had no intentions of stopping now, he would speak his mind and wouldn't cower. Familial hierarchy be damned.
"Johan-" She tried to walk to him as the man rose from his seat and walked towards little Johan.
"You're just a cheap substitute for the real thing you- you- you unlovable, husbandless, FRAUD!" His aunt flinched at that, her gaze faltering for a moment.
His hatefilled brain churned, he couldn't understand why she did. He hated not understanding, he hated the fact that she wouldn't explain anything. And even if he didn't hate her, he hated what she was doing, so even if unjustified, he'd take out his throat rending rage out on her.
"I wish mom and dad didn't die and I wasn't stuck with a stuck-up, good for nothing, decrepit and moroni-"
"Johan get down!" She tackled him as a shadow arose behind him.
*Zhiiiii*
"Get off of me yo-" He tried to argue further, but the winds in his sails died out both figuratively and literally as he felt a sharp pain in his abdomen and-
"Uugh!" Barbara grunted in pain as she vomited blood. Johan eyed a silver metallic glint through her hair.
"Wha- what the?" Johan muttered, overwhelmed in every description of the word. That's when he noticed something else-
[Name: Barbara Cole
Titles: Caretaker of *** ***** Miracle, Clear Sighted Mortal
Race: Human
Age: 68 (Deceased)
Occupation: Street Baker
Description: The younger sister of {The ******* Bearer}. She took care of {*** ***** Miracle} until her final moments. Even though it killed her. She was killed by a Ghoul.]
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Word count - 1,366
Little Johan is a brat isn't he? Hopefully he grows up before it's too late. But now it's time for little Johan's ADHD to show why it exists.
Also, starting from the next chapter this little area will be where we put Johan's status to let you gamers know how he's grown in the chapter.