V The God of a Village

[Zagreus]

The cultists gathered in the shadows of the trees, covering them from the moonlight. They were noisy, but the jungle was noisier - the bugs and birds would be like a cloak of silence around them. They approached their prey like steady predators, their eyes on the prize.

Yet they were the prey.

The cultists numbered eight. They each had various weapons, crude scimitars or ancient crossbows. Their eyes, though, were sharper than any blade. They flickered to and fro, looking for any signs of life.

Yet they were the prey.

There were rumors of a village forming near New Abraxas. Despite the many dangers of the jungle, it was said that fugitives from Governmorne settled here in the hopes of salvation. They had found salvation in their prayers to a god of blood. The cultists’ mission was clear - hunt them in the name of Darkseid.

Yet they were the prey.

Reggie thought he saw a flash of orange light to his right. He alerted this to Sabrina, who simply said that it was a trick of the moonlight. Thaddeus marched in between them, jealous that the two were spending too much time together. There was a rustle in the grass. Harry and Wenceslas froze, watching for more signs of life. Percy hissed at them to keep moving. They were all interrupted by their orc leader Shalrog, who told them to stay quiet. They didn’t want to give away the hunt.

Yet they were the prey.

It happened faster than anyone could perceive. A blazing blur of orange and red flashed through the crowd. Wenceslas was gone, replaced by a distant scream. Percy grunted as they felt their flesh nicked by something. They looked up, noticing a small sword dripping with blood - no, MADE of blood - hovering over their head.

Percy screamed in pain as the sword abruptly descended upon their shoulder. The others watched the sight with horror. Shalrog stopped to investigate their wound. Thankfully, Percy would live.

But in that time, the red blur returned. It tackled Reggie this time, making him vanish. There was another distant scream, and the subtle smell of ocean water.

“Form a circle!” Shalrog shouted.

The remaining cultists all gathered together, huddled in a nervous circle. Percy stumbled to their feet to try and help. Shalrog looked around nervously, lighting a torch.

“He’s not that fast, he can’t be-”

Then, in a flash, it was him. The cultists gasped at the sight. There was a young pale man standing in front of them, his face covered by smoldering hair. His feet were fully burning, flames rising through the cracks in his toes. Most impressive about him was his weaponry. In one arm, he had equipped a gigantic bulwark of a shield, with three blades protruding at equidistant points. In its center, there was a giant snake head, bearing its fangs. In his other hand was a large crimson sword with a skull for a pommel. Both weapons were rather large for the size of the man, but with how imposing he was, there was no doubt that he could bear them.

“These woods are protected,” Zagreus snarled.

Without further warning, Zagreus whipped the shield forward. It launched forward, a deadly disc of whirling blades. It bounced between Thaddeus and Sabrina, causing them to scream in terror as blood spurted from their wounds. Zagreus, meanwhile, threw himself into a sweeping kick, knocking down Harry. With the same sweeping motion, Zagreus slashed at Harry, cutting his gut. Another bloody sword jammed into Harry’s shoulder, causing him to scream and collapse.

Zagreus’ assault wasn’t finished. He took his shield and jammed it up Wenceslas’ chin. A bout of seawater flashed upwards, knocking Wenceslas high into the sky. Zagreus threw the shield again, causing the shield to bounce between Wenceslas, Percy, and Harry. Percy and Harry collapsed, dead.

Shalrog was the only one who could conceivably defend himself. He took his club and cracked it over Zagreus’ head. The club scattered Zagreus’ defense, making the godling stumble forward. Zagreus snarled unhappily. Shalrog attempted another swing, but Zagreus dashed backwards. In a fit of smoke and flame, he appeared behind Shalrog, tackling him with Aegis, causing another small gust of water to burst forward. Shalrog flew off deeper into the woods.

Wenceslas, who had landed not long ago, took his scimitar and slashed at Zagreus. The godling dodged and stabbed him heavily. It didn’t even take the second blood sword for Wenceslas to die. In another circular slash, Zagreus cut down Sabrina and Thaddeus, who had just approached to strike down Zagreus.

Only Shalrog was left. Zagreus stared him down, blood pouring from the back of his head. Shalrog himself took a single look at all of his compatriots dead and strewn about, and roared angrily.

“So you’re the false god of these woods,” Shalrog snarled, “You defend these petty people with your-”

“And you follow Darkseid. I know you’re not going to listen, so I’d rather we just finish this.”

“Impudent,” Shalrog commented, his tusks crackling with static electricity.

Now weaponless, Shalrog shot his hands forward, causing a lightning bolt to blast out. Zagreus wasn’t prepared, and took it to the chest, flying back. The godling fully broke through a tree from the sheer force of the lightning bolt. He tumbled back roughly, groaning.

“Could’ve warned me about that, old man,” Zagreus said.

Yet there was ample warning now. Zagreus quickly got to his feet and dashed to the right, narrowly avoiding another lightning bolt. He sprinted away, out of sight. Yet Shalrog’s eyes crackled with the storm, and his was the ability to see in the dark. Shalrog blasted another lightning bolt through the trees.

Shalrog laughed victoriously as the godling seemingly fled. But his victory lasted very little time. An arrow whizzed out from the trees, landing squarely in Shalrog’s chest. Before he could react, two more found their place in his body. Shalrog collapsed onto his knees, groaning in pain.

Zagreus returned to the battlefield.

“Gods damn it,” Zagreus chuckled, “I guess they got to you before I could finish you.”

Shalrog looked up to see two satyrs with cybernetic implants, bows slung around their shoulders. Zagreus grabbed his sword and raised it high.

“That’s enough out of you,” the son of Hades said, jamming the blade far into Shalrog’s head.

And with that, Zagreus turned to the other two. “Alright, who wants to eat?”

Spoiler

1070/2500 words

 

[Zagreus]

Godlike Zagreus sat on his throne made of wood and clockwork scraps. He did not enjoy this seat, but there was a time and place for celebration. The latest assault on the new village of New Tinkesquay resulted in absolutely no casualties, and the only injuries were the godling’s, which were already starting to fade away. So there he sat on his throne in the center of the village.

The village itself was only about four huts, but more were on the way. The huts were made of the junglewood primarily, but they were adorned with gears, gyros and other gizmos. They were primitive, built with a central support pillar and built almost like a nomad’s tent more than anything else. But they were home to the almost two dozen people who lived in New Tinkesquay.

The people themselves were mostly cyber-satyrs. They were trickster spirits on Governmorne, back in the days when Governmorne still existed. They mostly liked to mess with inventions, steal a nut or bolt from contraptions so they wouldn’t work. Often considered a pest in the old days, they were chased away as one would a particularly nasty child.

Those days were over.

Now tasked with rebuilding a society, the cyber-satyrs had mostly given up their ways of trickery and formed an actual settlement. Most of them were hunters, tasked with bringing back food for the settlement. A small handful were kept at the village to keep watch or maintain buildings. A fewer still were considered the leaders of the village, making sure to keep open communications with New Abraxas and keeping Zagreus entertained in times of peace.

Zagreus watched over his protected people with a subtle smile. Right now they were feasting, grilling a chocobo over the fire. The people were loud, and joy was aplenty. These people were the lucky few to escape - the last known settlement of the cyber-satyrs. Nobody would have made an attempt to save them - they were barely people in those days - but these few had managed to sneak aboard an escaping starship. And here they were in Kraw, trickster spirits returned to the woods, celebrating one fact.

Darkseid would not come this night.

The two that had helped lightning-struck Zagreus were currently being swarmed by affectionate villagers, who all chittered happily at the sight of the heroes who helped save their god. An exaggeration, prideful Zagreus told himself, but one he would allow for fear of spoiling the mood. Their names were Scittershank and Pedalbreaker, two of the best warriors that New Tinkesquay had - not that that was saying much. They had, after all, been born with cybernetic implants like all cyber-satyrs - but theirs were combat-oriented. Stronger limbs for speed and strength, and a cybernetic eye that detected movement.

At this time they came up to Zagreus, holding aloft their bows and chittering happily.

“Chichik! You like? You like we did good?”

Zagreus nodded, giving them a regal wave of the hand. “You did good.”

“Zagreithelssa!” Scittershank roared in response, prompting everyone else to join. Far as Zagreus could figure, this seemed to mean “Praise Zagreus”.

For Zagreus, in his efforts to protect this small little village, had become unto a god amongst mortals. They worshiped him with food, lavished him with praise and prayer, even built a throne for him which they treated much as a temple.

At first, humble Zagreus fully resisted. Despite truly being a god, and certainly one worthy of worship, home-stuck Zagreus was unused to the deific treatment. But he found the chittering satyrs charming, certainly unlike the ones back home, who infested temples of death with their poison. He started coming around more and more often, mostly to see how the little ones were doing. And as they constructed the throne for him, Zagreus finally relented and took a seat. It felt… right.

So now, despite his own discomfort with the idea of being worshiped, Zagreus decided that he would stay here. He held a sleepless vigil over the villagers of this area, barely stirring for days at a time, until the villagers came to him with a threat.

One such villager came up to him now. Gearclatter was one of the three leaders of the village, himself being the closest to Zagreus. Gearclatter had two cybernetic shoulders but otherwise organic arms, each shoulder an array of gears that whirred every time the satyr moved his arms. He had compound eyes in twinkling glass lenses that always seemed to catch the light whenever he had an idea. There were rumors that Gearclatter used to be a full merchant in the old Governmorne days. Otherwise, he was a normal satyr - body of a human, legs of a goat.

Gearclatter proffered a slab of meat to Zagreus, who laughed and took it. He was gobbling it up as Gearclatter rubbed his hands together.

“They are increasing in number, Lord Zagreus, chichik.”

Zagreus shrugged. “So they are. I’m sure they’ll get the idea soon.”

Gearclatter looked nervously at the crowd, who ignored the conversation in lieu of more celebration. The satyr looked back, eyes twinkling in the firelight.

“The others and I were discussing, Lord Zagreus,” Gearclatter said, “Chichik, you cannot hold them forever.”

Zagreus shrugged as he took another bite of meat. “Seems like I’m doing an okay job so far.”

“Perhaps we should employ some more help from New Abraxas?”

Zagreus shrugged again. “What’s to be worried about?”

“There were eight today. One a mage. That’s more cultists than we’ve ever seen or even heard of, chichik. They were headed straight for the village.”

Zagreus burped slightly. “And they all died handily. It took less than a minute to dispatch them.”

“You were temporarily overpowered for the first time, Lord Zagreus, chichik,” Gearclatter whispered, “Perhaps… perhaps even you are not so omnipotent?”

Zagreus raised an eyebrow at that. But he understood. Gearclatter was one of the few who had healthy expectations for Zagreus, often wondering about his injuries from combat.

Zagreus chuckled lightly. “The moment these unseemly cultists become too big of an issue, I’ll let you know. Then we’ll think about getting reinforcements.”

“Yes, my lord,” Gearclatter said, his voice dripping with doubt, “Your will be done, chichik.”

Zagreus waved Gearclatter away. “Now, come on, Gearclatter. There’s a festival. Go enjoy yourself.”

Gearclatter retreated, where he was promptly welcomed into what was practically a moshpit. Zagreus watched contentedly. He wasn’t truly concerned - these cultists were a dime a dozen. This mage was probably as tough as they came, and he could’ve handled it easily. It’d take a stronger force to do any lasting damage.

And a stronger force there would be.

Spoiler

2175/2500 words

 

[Zagreus]

Unwitting Zagreus watched for movement in the trees. He himself was perched on a particularly thick branch, trying to stay still so that his burning feet didn’t give away his position. He was truly not suited for stealthy matters, but gods help him he was trying.

Zagreus had heard that there were cultists coming… again. A little sooner than usual. But it was fine. He would hunt them down, as always.

Yet he was the prey.

As suddenly as anything, a metal hand the size of a full-grown human shot out of the woods. Its palm slammed into Zagreus, knocking him clean off the tree branch. Zagreus grunted in surprise, trying to identify his attacker. But no sooner had he been forcefully pushed did the thick metal fingers wrap around the godling.

Now fully panicked, Zagreus attempted to summon his weapons. Unfortunately, he had been caught off-guard, and as restrained as his arms were, he could not properly summon his blade.

Zagreus landed hard on the ground, grunting in pain. The metal hand, tethered by a giant metal coil, started reeling towards a gargantuan metal monstrosity. Zagreus barely had enough time to process his attacker was a construct of some sort before the golem of steel and gears smashed Zagreus’ head into a tree, knocking him out instantly.

Three cultists gathered around the mechanical monster holding the godling, smirking as they did.

“And now New Tinkesquay burns,” one of them cackled.

Spoiler

2419/2500 words

 

[Zagreus]

Word spread quickly of Zagreus’ demise. After all, there were scouts watching the battle from afar. The whole village of Tinkesquay was in a hubbub, figuring out what they’re supposed to do. Currently, they were gathered around Zagreus’ throne, waiting for Gearclatter and the others to speak.

Unfortunately, Gearclatter, who knew Zagreus best, was practically inconsolable. He had considered a future where Zagreus was defeated, but this was too soon. They had not prepared.

Gearclatter looked at the other villagers gathered around. He had to lead.

Gearclatter stood up. “Chichik, listen, people of Tinkesquay! Our god has fallen in battle!”

There was an uproar among the villagers.

“We must flee!” one of them shouted, starting to gather her children.

“No!” Gearclatter interrupted, “It is not too late! We must recover him!”

One of them spoke up. “Chichik, we are not fighters! What can we possibly do?”
Gearclatter grinned. “No, we are not fighters. We are thieves.”

***

The cultists were celebrating. Finally, Tinkesquay’s defenses had fallen. They had captured a god. Darkseid would be so pleased.

Zagreus struggled against his chains. There was naught he could do, however - he was properly bound. His neck, arms and legs were all shackled, and his mouth was gagged. Each of his hands were covered in some sort of magical light coming from the shackles. He was forced into a kneeling position, in front of a statue of Darkseid. Surely this was meant to mock him. It was working - his fury knew no bounds, even if his body did.

“MRRMF!” Zagreus shouted angrily.

The cultists laughed in an uproar at the bound god as he struggled. They were feasting. Tomorrow they would raid Tinkesquay and burn it to the ground, with the help of the new mech they were given. It was so powerful that surely nobody could take it down. The mech itself was currently offline. They wanted to conserve its power for when they had to raid Tinkesquay tomorrow.

Nobody would notice when one of its components went missing.

That’s what Gearclatter was counting on. He, teamed up with some of the better hunters in the village, were currently gathered around the mech. They were stealing screws and other key components from the gargantuan machine, even scrambling up its limbs to cut wires. Within minutes, they had stripped the mech of most of its capabilities.

Scittershank and Pedalbreaker had the more difficult job. They needed to engage the cultists. A task that needed stealth.

“Chichik! I am here to break out our god!” Scittershank whooped.

And that was that.

Immediately, the cultists were on their feet and charging Scittershank. The satyr fled deep into the woods, leaping mirthfully as she did and chittering taunts at the pursuing cultists. About four chased her into the woods as two of them stayed behind, of course, to watch for other attackers.

An arrow thudded into one guard’s neck. The other cultist cried out in surprise, and sprinted towards the mech. With a few thuds on the mech, he awakened it to repel the attackers.

It completely disassembled in front of him. Its limbs fell first, scattering into many pieces. Then the head activated, its eyes lighting up a cruel shade of red like before - but before it could do much, something burst inside its head, and smoke started spilling out of its ears.

Before the cultist could react, a second arrow thudded into his neck, and he collapsed.

Meanwhile, Gearclatter was making swift work of Zagreus’ shackles.

“I told you we needed to prepare, chichik,” Gearclatter mumbled.

“Yes, I rather think you’ve proved your point,” Zagreus replied, stretching his shoulders.

“Scittershank will not be able to keep them distracted long,” Gearclatter said.

“Then I’ll be right back,” Zagreus said, summoning his arms. Gods, it felt good to hold them again.

With a single blazing sprint, Zagreus was gone. There were four screams deep in the woods before Zagreus returned with another blazing sprint, holding Scittershank in his arms.

“Chichik, I am unworthy to be carried by the great Zagreus!” Scittershank shouted, climbing down from his arms.

“That’s enough of that,” Zagreus said, “So. You’ve saved me.”

Gearclatter bowed. “We must leave quickly, before more come, chichik.”

Zagreus nodded. “Go. Gather your people and flee. I’ll cover your exit.”

Spoiler

3133/2500 words