Ancient histories and Aftermaths

 A forest, thousands upon hundreds of pines rolled out for miles in front of me. My father stood at one side, my mother on the other, Dad always had a cigarette on his person, though he rarely actually lit one. He claimed it helped him keep from smoking if he just had one in his mouth, but the smell that hung around him during the bad days, that smell was of smoke, and of liqour.

Today though, wasn't a bad day. We were looking over the Superior National Forest, from an overlook point that gave us a fantastic view of the valley between the trees. And the sun was just beginning to set over the horizon, painting the entire place in a beautiful pattern of golds and pinks. Clouds were rolling in from the east at a rather rapid pace, but I barely noticed while I looked at the splendor all around me.

Then I saw it, the thing that made it complete, the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. A massive bird, enormous, thousands of feet across and blazing with crackling lightning. It pulled the clouds behind it, drawing the storm towards us as the rain began to approach.
Without thinking I spoke up.

"Look at that!" I cried in excitement, pointing at a bird that I forgot wasn't supposed to be there. There it was, the scowling look from Dad, but Mom noticed the wall of rain, and thought I was pointing at that...

"Yes dear, we should probably get in the car now, before the storm hits."

"No mom, look at the Bird! It's so big!"

Mom gently took my shoulder, and started walking me back to the car... I thought we were okay until I heard the Zippo lighter strike up behind me, and the smell of smoke filled the air.

When we got back to the car, Dad put me in the trunk, as punishment.

"How many times do I have to teach you! If you insist on seeing dark things, I will keep you in the dark. No son of mine will be seeing any demons!"

In that darkness, I wept, hearing the cackling laughter of the monsters who took my seat in the car while I sat there, curled up in the black...

I begged for peace, I begged for it to go away, I begged for this curse to leave me that day, I begged because despite the beauty of that thing I witnessed I knew that it must have been wrong, or why would I be in trouble? It is real, Mom and Dad just can't see it. They can't see a lot of things. But it had to be wrong if I could see it, Dad said so...

"Please God... If you are out there, please take this away..." I cried into the floor of the trunk.

He never did... And I never forgave Him.

I woke up, my entire body stinging with the pain of a thousand daggers sinking into my flesh. I felt bandages everywhere, and the pain told me, in no uncertain terms, that I shouldn't move right now, at all.

I looked to my right, and saw a large bag of saline solution hanging from a stand, and my foggy mind began to form actual thoughts. "Im in a hospital... That's right, I was being attacked by rats... And I hit my head."

I tried to sit up, every muscle arguing against the motion, and felt a weight against my chest. "Easy Rodney, you're good, lay back."

I recognized the voice...

"Charlie?" I said, my throat was desert dry, and I felt nauseous.

"Yeah, lemme go get a nurse, let them know you're up." Charlie went to stand "No, no." I said. "Tell me what happened."

"We heard the screaming, then you got swarmed by rats, all we could hear was the screeching and tearing of fabric. Lass helped you out, and we got you out of the factory. It got burned down, something about faulty wiring. Lass said he got pretty burned out after trying to save your ass, so you're just riding with me for a while." Charlie settled back into the chair, and folded his hands between his legs as he spoke. "The guy that was screaming is dead, the demon that was following him around must have run off somewhere when its host died. Lass told me it probably has something to do with the Pagans, and that the Gods are apparently doing a fair bit of infighting."

"How long was I out?"

"Three weeks."

I wanted to react, I wanted to get up, but all I could do was groan. "Fffuuuck."

"The doctors said you shouldn't be alive, the rats had apparently managed to nick most of your arteries, according to the docs they must have been starving, because rats don't usually act like that. Lass didn't seem to think so though. He thinks it was another God, he figures the whole damn pantheon is in on it. Did you know you have a weird blood type? You got RHnull, you can't receive from most folks, so the doctors haven't been able to get you blood. Somehow you managed to pull through though, once the bleeding stopped."

I knew about that too, Granddad apparently had it as well. It's considered "golden blood" because it's so incredibly rare, I doubted that everyone with RHnull could do what I did, but I suspected that it might have something to do with my bloodline connection to angels. 

God I needed a drink, three weeks was far too long to go without alcohol, if it weren't for all the opiates running through me right now, I would probably be shaking up a storm. I had probably been given Diazapam or something... My blood coming back probably had something to do with that soreness of the soul having become downright depression at this point, I burned out completely to keep myself alive.

Now the whole pantheon getting in on this fight, that was very concerning. This wasn't just one racist asshole, this was one racist asshole that had the backing of every Norse deity at his beck and call. I didn't fully know what that meant, but I did know we were going to need to talk to the Gods at some point. This was bad...

"What's the situation? What has happened over the last three weeks?" I croaked.

"Well, after the factory was burned down, we realized pretty quickly that the factory itself couldn't have been the problem. I got laid off for the first couple days but then the chief was contacted by some guy in a suit who came to talk to me."

"Who was the suit?'

"Some government guy, claims to be from some big time FBI type place, SOMA is the name. He wants to talk to you too. Looks like our antics in the supernatural are starting to get noticed. He also had us cover it up, media is calling the burned down factory a gas leak, and that the massive drain on the cities power grid was caused by incompetence and lack of good infrastructure. The mayor is running with it, claiming they are going to get right on fixing it, so he can get more voters next year."

"We need to talk to the gods." I took a breath in, my lungs suddenly lashing out with agony halting my intake of air.

"Yeah, me and Lass have been busy with that Rodney. He took me to meet Quetzal."

"On his own? How?" He shouldn't be able to leave hell without being summoned.

"He'll explain later, For now you gotta finish healing up, anything I can do to speed it along?"

I thought about that, Grace was something I was supposed to be able to get from just, people being kind to me, I had probably managed to gather up a little bit of it from passing nurses taking care of me. I felt my face go a bit red.
"Could you... Give me a hug?" I asked, a lump forming in my throat even as I asked it, the rational part of myself slamming me over the head with the stupid bat even while the emotional part of me was crying out for even a modicum of grace.

The desire was a platonic one, but a hug would restore some of the Grace in my soul, and help me heal a little faster, probably.

The smirk on Charlie's face was obvious.

"I'm serious, look, whatever is keeping me alive relies on acts of human kindness, specifically ones directed at me. Even a glance of pity probably works, the Nurses have likely been keeping me just barely crawling along with what they are doing. You wanna speed this along? Give me a hug."

Charlie looked at me a little while longer, shrugged, said "Fuck it." and awkwardly wrapped his arms around me. I felt a surge of warmth deep in my soul, and like something dislocated had snapped back into place, a mild sob escaped me as I felt the sudden wash of emotional relief, the coal in my soul keeping me alive flaring back into brightness.

"I'm never letting you live this down." Charlie said.

I almost wanted to cry, but I had to man the fuck up, no time for that now. Charlie broke the hug mere moments before the nurse walked in. "Visiting hours are over, your gonna have to clear the room dear." Charlie nodded "Get better soon Rodney, we need you." He said.
The genuine honesty washed through me again, and that coal within grew a little warmer, I was still lacking, the throbbing in the back of my soul was enough to tell me that, but the tank had been filled a fair bit, and the Nurse started to look me over.

It hadn't even been a day later before I was wheelchaired out of the building, not that I needed it, the doctors told me it was a miracle I had survived, and another miracle that I was in nearly full health in less than a day. I told them it was going to be a miracle if I could pay for it, and I didn't even get a chuckle. Tough crowd.

I thought to myself about nothing much as I was wheeled through the halls, the nurse (Stacy was her name) that was walking me out was a talkative girl with large blonde ponytails on either side of her head, with a sort of valley girl accent to her. She wasn't even really talking to me, just sort of bubbly talking to the air, occasionally directing the conversation at hand to friends or coworkers she passed. I simply let the words wash over me, punctuated by "Omygosh" and "Like, really?" none of it was really being absorbed by me, and I wasn't entirely sure she was absorbing any of it either. Grace was simply pouring off of her though, she really loved her job and this must have been the highlight of her day. I felt like a new man when we finally reached the front door.

I was starving, that much was certain. The hospital diet was not for me, and if I saw another plate of mashed potato and tinned gravy I was going to set the state of Idaho on fire. Charlie was waiting for me when we finally went through the double doors. "And here we are! Thank you for flying Air Stacy and have a wonderful rest of your recovery! Byeeeeee!" The nurse returned the wheelchair to the hospital when I showed that I could stand and walk just fine. It was uncharacteristically sunny today, my internal clock had be completely ruined by my time in the hospital, and I was gonna need a couple more long nights before I was back on the evening shift. I turned to Charlie with a grin plastered on my face. It was hard not to smile when you just had Air Stacy's infectious joy right over your head the entire way.

"Need another hug?" Charlie asked, my grin faded, "Goddamn it." I replied. Charlie laughed at me as he held the door open to a very familiar vehicle. The radio was blaring "Pass The Dutchie" by Bob Marley, a discovery I made only after the door was opened.

"Hey Levon, we in the Burgess today? Any chase scenes planned?"

"Ey Neo, nah nah, The Burgess is ere' because your friend said we was goin' somewhere important, so I brought the nicer car. Not ta mention somebody smoked in my last cab..."

I smiled, "I'm sure Lass is real sorry about that one. I can almost hear him now... But first, we gotta get where we are going, where's the address Charlie?"

"We gotta head to that field first. Got something I gotta talk about there."

"No problem mon!" We pulled out just as "Pass the Dutchie" ended and "I Shot The Sheriff" started up.

By the time we had finished the hour-long drive to a literal field outside the city, I was well and truly Rasta'd out, you can only handle so much steel drums before it starts to slam against the inside of your skull, or maybe it was the withdrawls, the shakes weren't quite there yet, but after being taken off the IV, I started to develop one hell of a migraine. Here I was, the power to heal in less time than most people, but magic angel powers are apparently weaker than mere Tylenol.

"Levon, get back here in about, thirty minutes yeah?" Charlie asked. "No problem mon! Be back sharp, but don' take too long? Can't be late to this I hear."

Charlie walked away from the car, and took a box of Marbs out of his coat, he tapped the bottom, dispensing a cigarette, and held it out to me.
I held my hand up to deny it, but he said "Take the damn cig Rodney." and I took it from his hand.

He tapped the box again, putting a cigarette in his mouth, and he started walking, holding his hands up to his face as he lit his cigarette.

"I took you out here because Lass said you were the type to follow tropes." Charlie moved towards one of the only things in the field that stood, the place was allowed to be overgrown, lost to the grass and the weeds, I wondered who this place even belonged to, if it belonged to anyone at all.
We were approaching a Hawthorne tree, it was heavily laden with ivy, by all rights it should be choked to death but it was thriving, the berries ripened by the autumn frosts. I wondered what month it was as I looked at the leaves, long turned red by this point.

"He wouldn't be entirely wrong, but what trope specifically?"

"Liar revealed." Charlie replied, standing under the branches of the tree, looking up into the berries.

I looked into the tree with him, wondering if he was seeing something I couldn't as I pondered what that meant. I could feel my subconscious shouting at me, trying to tell me something, "What do you mean by that?"
"The Trope goes, a person whose been telling a lie, either by omission or on purpose, is suddenly revealed to be a liar, usually this is the protagonist, or a friend to the protagonist.
The rest of the group then proceeds to abandon this guy if they are the protagonist, or the protagonist flees from the Liar, having been betrayed."

I felt a coldness starting to settle in my guts.

"I took you out here, Rondey, because you seem like the type to run away, to take way too long to decide when someone is worth forgiving, and I am not about to risk the whole world being lost because you decided to be angsty about someone you care about lying to you."

"What are you trying to say Charlie?"

He pointed at the cigarette. "You need a light?"
I put the thing in my mouth, and waited for him to pull out a lighter.

Instead, Charlie reached with his hand, fingers together as if to snap them. I heard the crack of palm against thumb, and his index finger had a small flame at the tip of it.
I was utterly dumbfounded, drawing in breath through the cig, forgetting for a moment how bad an idea that was, and was suddenly overwhelmed by the taste of tobacco and sulfur, and the heat of the smoke.

I started coughing, holding the smoke in between my fingers, the sudden panicked thoughts in my mind making me back out of the shade of the hawthorne tree. Charlie's hand was cloaked in the fire now, spreading between his fingers and filling the air with the smell of hell itself.
He closed his hand into a fist, extinguishing the flames, and I took a breath of air.

My subconscious was trying to tell me what I didn't want to believe. "Ch-Charlie?" I hacked again.

"Yeah, I'm here, it is actually me. But it's also Lascivious."

He wasn't wrong about the Liar Revealed thing. I wanted to run, I wanted to find somewhere to hide, I wanted a fucking drink, I wanted to drain a handle of Blue Ox until I passed out or puked, whichever came first. "No.... Nonono...." I suddenly got angry, furious even "How fucking dare you?!?" I wasn't talking to Charlie, no... I realized it now. I hadn't been talking to him from the start.

"You told me you would never! You swore it to me! You swore it to Grandad! Possession has always been a no-go and we both know it!" Charlies... Lass's expression didn't change. The same sour face carved from wood, the same eyes, but the wrong person under the skin.

"He was a father you evil fuck!" I shouted again, my voice breaking a bit, tears started to prick at my eyes. "I should tear you the fuck out right now, give me one reason that I shouldn't!" I stepped forward, right hand held forward, that internal hand ready to grasp at that white hot coal in my soul, my emotions were getting shoved aside by my fury.

"Because it's not Lass talking to you Rodney. I'm still here, we got a deal going."
"That's weak even for you Lass." I knew that if I tried to pull him out of there it would damage Charlie, but it would be better than the long-term damage his soul would be taking from having that thing inside him, I felt that fury ready to lash out, ready to tear the demon from the man and burn him up, finish the job the Creator started.

"Look at me Rodney." Charlie said.

"I am! And I sure as shit don't like what I see!"

"No dumbshit." His words, never Charlie's "Look."

The Fury finally broke loose, I felt a proverbial fist wrap itself around the white-hot coal and burst into flames. Leaping forward, I grabbed Charlie by the throat, moving with a speed I didn't know I could reach. I heard some sort of tongue, like Latin if it were written by something older than language itself pouring out of my lips, whatever I was saying it felt like curses, and my left hand was clenched into a fist, ready to drive itself into his stomach, ready to rip Lass out of there, ready to save one friend by destroying another...

But I saw something, beneath the white fury, beyond the wrath, I saw the soul of the man I held.
I saw a blackness to be sure, but it had been split, partitioned, held back by a wall of pure white, a fire but one hotter than mine could ever be. I recognized it somehow. There were also small black flecks throughout Charlie's soul, like pieces of electrocution scars, the price for letting Lass in, but it was still Charlie, he was the one in control.

"Azrael?" I said, confusion tainting the holy bellow that my voice had become.

"He begged for forgiveness" Charlie choked out. My hand suddenly went slack around his neck, and he fell to the ground coughing, his own cigarette crushed beneath his body.
"She forgave you?!?" The wrath was beginning to wane, I was unable to hold back my other emotions, the human ones, the emotions that I actually believed in, not the ones that came from my weird bloodline, my fury could not stand against this confusion.

"Not quite, she told him that he had to accept what he had done, being stuck in here, with me, was supposed to be a sort of penance I think." Charlie picked himself up off the ground, dusted himself off, and glanced at the ruined cig on the ground.

He reached over to me, still reeling from the crazed angelic fury I had just been though, and snatched the smoke I still had between my fingers, the filter was badly pinched, but it was mostly intact. He took a long drag off of it, and said. "It took me almost a week to get the fire control down. Lass figured it would come in handy. I can't throw it yet, but it does save me a bit on lighter fluid. He figures it would be a good idea to not try talking directly to you until you've worked through it."

"I..." "I know, you want to run, you want to leave, you want to get the fuck out of here so you can drink it all away and sleep it off till next week. But Rodney, we don't have until next week. This afternoon we have a meeting with a whole ass pantheon of gods, and we lay it all out on the table, tomorrow we talk to a guy in a suit from a scary government organization that protects the world from supernatural bullshit, and the day after that? Well the day after that we probably have some white supremacist viking ass to kick."

In my head, I still wanted to rip Lass out and throw him back into the pit, hell I would drag him down there personally, but in my heart, I knew that Charlie was right.
We didn't have time for this, I didn't have time for this. It probably wasn't healthy, but at this point, nothing could be less healthy than what I would rather do.

I leaned against the tree, sliding down it, and I stared at the ground. It was all too much, and I just sent all the thoughts running about into the the three little specks of dirt between my heels, a worm cast, basically earthworm shit. I sent all the angry bees that were my scattered thoughts into that dirt, like how I would stare at the wall when I woke up too early, sent all the unfocused bullshit into that little pile of worm poo, and let myself focus.

Charlie sat next to me as I stared.

"Pass me another one of those." I said, Charlie handed me a cigarette, lit it, I was ready for the sulfur taste this time "Hellfire tastes like shit." I said.

"You're goddamn right it does." I heard the wrong voice come from Charlies mouth.

I took a drag off the smoke, letting the gentle buzz of nicotine spark across the front of my brain, I remembered I hadn't had a cigarette in a long time... It didn't hurt though, not like booze did. Maybe it's because I had commited the sin of gluttony and sloth with the alcohol, but I hadn't done a damn thing while smoking? Or maybe I just haven't indulged too deeply, who the fuck knows anymore.

We sat there in silence for a while. Until Levon's car finally pulled back up. The sound of Shaggy's "Wasn't Me" was thumping through the speakers, the car window was open.

"You know, you look really fucking scary when you do that." Charlie said.

"Do what?"

Levon honked his horn.

"Your hair turns white, your eyes too, hair starts to move around in a scary wind."

I thought about that.

"It feels scary too." I replied.
"Sure you don't need another hug?" He asked again.

"Fuck you." I replied, again.

He laughed, true and genuine, and we heard Levon honk again. Charlie gave a small groan as he stood.

"Time to face the music."

I groaned as well, leaning against the tree as the headache decided that moment needed a drum solo.

"Fuuuuck."
I got back up, after a fashion.

"Yo Levon?" I shouted about halfway to the car.

"Yea Neo?"

"Do you have any bottled water and a tylenol? Got a headache from hell over here."

"No problem, another conversation and you got it."

"Let the shit take effect first and then we can chat."

"Deal Mon Deal." He gave a high pitched laugh, handed me a pill and some water, and put the vehicle into gear.

The pill acted pretty quickly, must have been the empty stomach, I was still fucking starving.

"Hey dad, can we hit a Mc'Donalds on the way?"

"Running late as we are, no, no we can't." Charlie said.

"Aww come oooooon." I said playfully

"Don't make me pay Levon to turn this car around." Lass's voice rang out from Charlies head.

"I'm never getting used to this." I realized something "Lass, the hell? Levon is right here dude."

"He's known for a while, probably first day. Honestly it's taken you guys way too long to realize that Levon has always been one of us weird ones. Still not sure what kind of weird one he is, but he's one of us."

"How else do I keep showin' up right when ya need me Rodney? I might be a good cab driver, but nobody that good eh?"

I guess that made sense... kinda.

"How's the no drinkin' doin'?" Levon asked "Not great man, the pills were appreciated, but im terrified about the coming shakes."

"Had a friend of mine back home that went through the same thing, we would give him a shot and tie him to the bed, man was like a caged animal but it kept him alive. Them Tremens are real bad." Levon made a turn and cut someone off, judging by the sound of the angry horns behind us, Ah Minnesota, such a lovely state.

We continued the conversation, chatting about booze withdrawal and my plans for trying to kick it. Truth is I didn't have much of a plan, just sorta, cold turkey and hope it would be fine. Then again that's how I had always tried it, and that never really did work... About an hour and a half later, we arrived at a bar that had no right being where it was.

It was in some hood on the southwestern side, judging by the mexicans wearing yellow, it was a Kings hood. The bar itself was called Svarga, and it had an Indian style to it. When I walked in, the smell of inscense hung thick on the air, perfuming the room with Sandalwood and smoke, a couple of tables had Hookah set up near them, filled with heavily flavored tobacco by the smell. Each of the tables had a clique of people around them, a biker gang held by some guy with an eye patch and a big grey beard, another group looked like the cast of the Beatles, except the pink haired punk rocker chick sitting with them. The bar itself had a sort of dive-feel, one of those wood shavings on the floor type places.

The bartender was an Indian guy, though his accent was barely audible when he asked me "What will you have?"

I looked up at him, and felt my whole body lock up, a dry feeling at the back of my throat reminded me of just how long it had been since I had a drink. I longed deeply for something, anything. Charlie stepped in and said "He's trying to quit."
I then felt his posture change, going from professional stiff cop to a lithe and easygoing posture, a familiar stance, though it was a fair bit less graceful than he usually was.
"Evening Vish!" I heard Lass say, he had taken the wheel entirely now. "Give him a virgin, surprise the guy, he prefers Jack."

The expression on the man's face didn't change "Lascivious, this is a surprise." His tone remained the same as well. "You never said you had a shell, for a second there I thought I was going to have to kick two people out. The human with you?"

"He's not quite fully human, but yeah, this cuties with me. Rodney, allow me to introduce you to Vishnu, God of Preservation and second of the three major Hindu gods."

I looked back at the man behind the bar. He looked so... ordinary. He just looked like an older indian dude, grey hair, slightly balding, and he wore a simple polo shirt and blue jeans, though his eyes were blue, it was the only odd thing about him, and even then it could just be a genetic one.
I knew absolutely nothing about Hinduism, and wasn't sure what the proper protocol was when it came to talking to their gods, I tried for a little bow and got a grin from the man. "That sort of thing isn't needed here. I appreciate the politeness, but there is a reason I made this place a bar. You like sours?" He asked.

"I do actually, but I..." "I know, I know." He started moving with a lithe grace, different from how Lass moved, the speed and smoothness almost looked like the guy had more than two arms. Judging by who they were supposed to be, they might have just had more than two.

After a few quick shakes, a drink was poured, and a simple coaster slid towards me. "Thanks." I said, picking up the glass. It looked like a standard whiskey sour, complete with a lemon twist, kinda smelled like whiskey too, but it lacked that alchoholic burn to the nostrils that you get out of real booze. I took a sip...
It was pretty good, fantastic even. I honestly couldn't tell it wasn't alcohol. There was something in it, something in the infusion that was leaving this odd burn at the back of my throat, but it wasn't lingering "What is in this? Gotta be one of the better fake spirits I've had."

"I appreciate the compliment. It's Horseradish extract, there is some long chemical name for it, but that's basically what it is. Horseradish has a spicy kick to it that doesn't last that long, so I put a little in the infusion for the whiskey taste-alike I use, it's also got pieces of a literal bourbon barrel in it, which certainly helps the flavor, but doesn't add too much extra alcohol. Sometimes I slip it to the patrons who get a little too rowdy. Enjoy it Rodney, we will likely be starting soon..."

He walked over to some other patron, a large burly individual from another biker table, this guy looked Asian, who was handed a big silvery goblet of something or another.

"So, Lass." I said, sipping my drink. "Tell me who these folks are."

"The guy at the bar was Vishnu, as I already told you. The guy with the goblet of Mares Blood is Tengri, the Mongol God of the sky, he has a sort of rival biker gang going on with Odin over there." Lascivious pointed over to the biker table with the one-eyed man I had noticed earlier.

"Mares blood, that like a bloody mary?" "No. Not at all."

"How's it different?" "For one thing, Rodney, it's not alcoholic, for another thing, it doesn't come with a celery stick."

It took me a second to realize "Oh gross, actual horse blood?"
"Bingo, you deserve a cookie."

"Why?"

"He took up the drink after the Mongol Hordes started doing it as a survival tactic, he considers it an excellent way to honor their sacrifice. I've always admired the Gods for that. They always seem to have a deep and genuine care for their people, at least nowadays, not the greco-roman gods though, those guys are still assholes." Lass said, he had a drink for himself now, and was slowly sipping on it.

"Lass, he's on duty." Lass looked at me from charlies face with a look of mock shock "What? No... I hadn't noticed." He sipped the drink again. "Relax, both of you, it's a virgin, much to my chagrin. For hell's sake you are both so utterly dull sometimes."

Suddenly the atmosphere of the place began to change, from a bar where the gods sat around, nursing their beverages in a quiet murmur, and it fell into the realm of old-west movies, when a man wearing a biker jacket, a long red braided beard, and a simple hammer pendant around his neck, a common Astaru symbol of Thor.

The man cast a long look over the bar, made eye contact with Odin, gave him a gentle shake of the head, and walked towards the bar.

"Would one of you be so kind as to step aside?" His voice was a rumble, deep and thrumming, and it had a sort of lament to it, like he was almost sad that he had to ask. Lascivious stepped aside first, seemingly in a bit of a hurry to do so.

"Ah." Vishnu spoke from the bar. "Thor, it has been some time." A couple of chairs suddenly creaked, a god stood. Odinn. He strode across the room, I felt Lascivious suddenly tug me away from the bar, snatching my drink as he went, and pulled me into a corner booth.

"This could get nasty." Lass said as he slid my drink back to me "I almost wish I brought some popcorn." He looked back at the two of them, and I examined the looks on the two.

"Father I..." A crack of thunder rolled through the room, as Odinn slapped the god of thunder across the face. "No son of mine could be so weak. You have no place at my table." Thor's expression became pained, like a man crushed, unable to bring himself to tears from just how overwhelming it all is.

A chuckle came from the Norse table as Odinn turned, returning to his seat at its head, despite being a round table, it was clear who was the leader of each pantheon from where they sat. He stared daggers at Thor for another few moments, before looking back down. The chuckling voice became a guffaw before it was suddenly silenced by another Norseman, this one with a hooked hand.

"Loki..." Lascivious said. "I would recognize that hyena chuckle anywhere. Odinn must be desperate."

"Isn't he supposed to be bound in a cave somewhere?" I asked, recalling the studies I made at the start of all this... It felt so much longer ago. What month was it even? Late October? I hadn't even noticed any of the decorations from all the other things buzzing through my mind. "Yes he is." Lass muttered under his breath.

"Might I take a seat at your table sirs? I fear I must take the seat of an outsider in this matter." I blinked, how long was Thor standing there? "Uhh... Sure?" I said. "You have my thanks." The bench seat creaked under the mass of the enormous viking. Vishnu eventually brought a literal animal horn filled with something thick and sweet-smelling.

"Mr. uhh... Thor?" I asked awkwardly. He cast a rough glance my way, his eyes swam with severe depression, the man looked worse than a lot of the homeless guys I had met, this guy didn't just hit rock bottom, this guy grabbed a pick and started digging. "Can I ask you what just happened?"

He took a breath in, drained his horn, and took a long breath out. "My father is a fool, and I am dead." He replied. Lascivious was giving me a look like "Stop.... Fucking.... Talking"
So of course I let curiosity take the wheel instead. "What does that... Mean?"

Thor looked back at me. "What are you Human? One of those passing cult leaders? Why haven't you been kicked back out on the streets? What would drive you to ask such a question if not complete ignorance as to what we are?"

"Uhh... I'm a Nephilim? I think? At least that's what I have been told." Lascivious facepalmed.

Thor looked at me again, as if he was sizing me up for something. "Fine, watcher-born, I will tell you, if only so you are not slain by one of the fools here. The first thing I will warn you is not to mention what you are to another God. Either tell no-one, or tell everyone, allow no intercessions."

Thor was remarkably well spoken for who was supposed to be the big dumb lightning god, but I guessed with that many years of time between then and now he probably picked up a couple of books here or there.

"Okay, but why?"

"Because little songbird, there are many gods here that do not appreciate the meddling of the Almighty, especially if you have the freedom to pick both sides. You could be crushed, or used as an asset, but it would be better for you to tell everyone instead of a single god if you are to tell anyone at all, that way they at least need to fight amongst themselves to see who gets to kill or use you." Thor reached a hand out to take another horn from the passing bartender.

"To answer the question of what I mean by being dead, which is what I assume you were questioning, I have lost all of my power as a God, I have too few worshippers to keep my domain, and so I have grown weak, and lacking. My power is lost, and as such I am unworthy to be known as a God. I am now merely an immortal, unable to die, but lacking any greater powers beyond that."

He drained his horn again.

"My father, The One-Eye, refused to allow me back into our home, Asgard is lost to me, and so I must wander Midgard alone. I have tried many things to survive, to keep myself from casting my body to the seas and never again returning, to hold myself back from oblivion. But it has grown ever more difficult. Even the words of your philosophers begin to ring hollow as I continue to strive against this. Friendships help, but the sorrow I feel from the loss of those friends after a mere blink of my eyes, is so deep as to suffer a great wound. So, songbird, I am as good as dead to those who still hold power, because at least they can convince themselves they still hold meaning."

"So why are you here then?" I asked. "Why would you go somewhere you aren't wanted like this?"

"Because I must stop my father from acting upon this foolishness. He has seen far too much from the well, and his mind is lost. The ravens no longer perch on his shoulders, instead constantly leaving to give their wisdom to some agent of chaos he has sown in this world. This is madness, and the gods cannot afford a war, especially not if Yahweh decides to send his forces to join."

He looked at the bottom of his empty horn. "The end is near, the Gods are dead, and you have killed them. I hope you do not intend to look to me to console you. You murderers of murderers..."

With that rather ominous statement, there was a sudden change in the gods demeanor again, as a pair of doors near the back of the bar opened up, and a tall individual declared "The time has come." This man was ancient, he looked as if a simple gust of wind would result in his death, and the words from those gathered held only a single name.

"Inevitability."

"Please gather in the hall, the time has come for the summit to begin." His voice was a quiet whisper, a scraping of nails against glass, the shutting of a coffin lid...
It was then I knew his true name and form.

Death, was the head of this summit.

The various deities eventually began to file into the room, and when I entered, for a moment, all I could see was light.

What I saw after, was impossible, and beautiful...