Deus
D E U S
Deus laid his head against the cold rock silently with his eyes focused on one person. The voices of the crowd died out as someone began to speak, but the words washed over him and his eyes never left the serene blue of the other boy’s. I never managed to explain; he still thinks I’m insane, or a lying freak. I’ve seen his future and past in my father’s mirror, but I never saw this happen. I never saw my own death. He shifted his head uncomfortably against the stone, his right ear scraping painfully against the hard material and cutting a bit, bleeding a bit. None of that mattered now, though. He had to explain, he had to make him understand. His boy with kind eyes, he had to make him understand before he died. Deus tried to lift his head, but there was a horrible pressure on the back of his neck, pushing his head into the correct position on the stone. His chin was grazed this time, but the slow dripping of the blood did not distract him. Over the dull, monotonous voice that read out his offences, he called out. “I never meant to confuse you,” he cried. “My only offence was loving you!”
The voice grew louder over him, and he did not try again. Instead, he looked desperately at the object of his affection and tried to drink his every feature. Deus memorized the curve of his chin, lifted slightly to suggest defiance, but his lowered eyelids with thick eyelashes told Deus that the boy was scared, and possibly humbled. His hands were clenched in front of his body, knuckles pale next to the rest of his sun tanned skin. He wore the amulet around his neck, tied on by a piece of string instead of the silver chain Deus had presented it to him on. Deus could not see his eyes, but he remembered their strong colour and endless depth, and the plumpness of his boy’s lips told nothing of the tenderness, the softness Deus had felt earlier that day. The boy’s figure was hidden under swathes of thick wool, but the blue belt at his waist highlighted how small he was compared to the mountains of clothing he wore in such a hot climate.
The whirl of metal through the air came too slowly, as though it was moving through dense air. The boy in front of him never changed his expression; the emotionless, hard, blank stare of deep disinterest ripped a tear through his heart. As he felt the blade slice his skin, Deus watched his boy turn away from him, confusion laced in his eyes. He pushed through the crowd as he turned, and made to walk away like he could escape the sound of death. At that very last moment, Deus saw a flash of sorrow pass across his boy’s face. And in that moment, Deus’ heart stopped beating. In the next, his head was severed from his body. In that moment, he had died.
Obsidian black skies stretched out for miles about Deus’ head, the stars twinkling far away at the young god as he crouched like a tiger ready to pounce. His bright blue hair glowed for a moment as he tensed, hand hovering over his silver raincloud, poised to pour the torrential fury of the heavens down on the boys below. They taunted and hurt the one he was watching over, and it was for purely selfish reasons that he wanted to strike them down with lightning. That small, thin boy they mocked and punched had been under Deus’ careful watch for quite some time now, almost a year in human time. He had affected Deus completely, drove him to break his vow of refrain from interference.
It began at first during his father’s lesson about the world he had created; his father had allowed Deus to look through his mirror at the lives below. His eyes had wandered for so long that he forgot the lesson, engrossed in the civilisation below his clouds. His father laughed gently at Deus when he finally emerged, “You see son, that world is beautiful. It requires careful guidance and a delicate balance to survive, and one day you will carry on from me when I am gone.”
Over time, Deus was granted more opportunities to look down over Earth. Slowly, he had developed a favourite village to watch (he didn’t have to concentrate on the whole world like his father, he had light-years before that) and took note of all of its major happenings. Soon, he became engrossed in everything else about it, and began to take time out of his day every day to check on his village. It wasn’t long before he had found one person he kept noticing, one person that his eyes would slip to given half a second. But his father had banned him from the mirror, worried that Deus was becoming too attached to Earth.
Deus was sneaky though, and parted the clouds above his village to watch them, even riding down on his raincloud to get a closer look at his raven haired boy. The boy’s name was Jacob, a small insignificant fifth son of a lowly fisherman who would grow up to inherit nothing and marry a poor girl from the next village over. Deus knew all this, but still he watched Jacob with ever growing desire and longing, watching over the boy as he tried to get through life avoiding the others who took delight in mocking him and hurting him. Deus became careless in his habits, and soon he was discovered.
“You claim to love this mere mortal?!” His father thundered, black clouds gathering around his head. He reared himself to his full, terrifying height and roared at his son. “You love this, boy? Deus, you violate every sacred law I have ever made, traitor. You want to become human, I know, I heard you when you spoke about him to yourself.”
“Father, please, just leave Jacob alone and I will do anything you ask.” Deus cried out, “Please, leave him be, for me; your son.” His father lashed out with anger.
“No son of mine loves humans.” And he threw Deus to Earth, stealing his son’s powers.
From high above in his heavenly home, Deus had never really had to understand homosexuality. It was something humans frowned upon, he knew that, and he knew his father believed it was wrong. But beyond that, he’d never really bothered to discover what it meant. So, when he arrived on Earth in blue trousers decorated with a light dusting of sparkles and glitter and a clingy vest shirt-like object he had no idea why people, mere children, shouted harsh words at him and drove him away. They yelled after him, but what confused him was why he was intimidated enough by them to run away.
He ran off, down the village street and leapt out of the way of a cart. The whole place was busy and loud, animals domineered the roads and women walked slowly along the edges of the roads with heavy baskets of cloth or material. Some were obviously coming back from a washing place, because the cloth in their baskets was wet and weighed them down worse than others. Children squabbled, running and dashing through carts; weaving a dangerous pattern with each step. Deus carried on down the street, feet hitting the dry earth ground as he slowed to a walk.
And then he saw him. Brown hair with thin whispers of adulthood growing on his chin, dressed in rough tunic, the boy was walking along one of the tracks up towards a farm that he could barely see in the distance. Deus ran to catch up, calling out, “wait for me!” He stopped beside the boy, skidding in the dirt and kicking the ground onto his trousers. The boy looked down at his trousers with a disbelieving glance, and turned to carry on walking, shaking his head slowly and brushing Deus off.
“I am Deus. I am new in these parts.”
Still, he received no reply and had to lengthen his stride to keep up. “What is your name?” The boy determinedly did not turn to face him; he even turned the other way when Deus stood on his other side in an attempt to strike up conversation.
“I have enough problems as it is, I don’t need you adding to them. Just leave me alone.” The boy spoke, and Deus lost himself for a second in the voice. It rippled gently like water, trickling and slowly wandering its way around him. The boy walked on faster, moving off at an awkward, jerky pace. But Deus stood for a moment, allowing the voice to wrap around him before he carried on, running to keep up. He slowed into a loping pace with long steps which stretched his legs and forced him walk with a slight, accidental limp on one side. “Look, leave me alone!”
Deus caught his arm, looking at him with a plaintive plea. He watched as the boy’s face hardened, but he did not wrench his arm away. A small sigh escaped his lips, and Deus took that as a sign; he plunged on. “I am Deus-” But beyond that, he had no other explanation. Lacking another choice, he carried on; trying to spin his sorry story into something the boy would understand or believe.
“Your father named you after the demi-god Deus? No wonder you’re so eccentric!” The boy laughed with a half grin on his face. His smile brightened Deus’ bleak outlook, and he plunged on with his story.
“No, I am the demi-god Deus.” Shocked and ashamed, the boy bowed down before Deus and dipped his head to the ground. “Jacob, I have come down to Earth for you.” Jacob glanced up, a look of confusion on his face. “I have spent many, many human hours watching and observing your way of life, and I come here with a promise to you.” He reached out, guiding Jacob to his feet grandly. “I present you with this locket which I created from my love for you, and promise you that I will never abandon you throughout our lives together. I became human for you, and I will die human with you.” With those ending words, he pressed a light kiss to his boy’s cheek. Leaning back, he pulled a locket out from a pocket. He had crafted the locket up in his father’s house in the hopes of presenting it to Jacob one day but that day came sooner than he had expected.
He draped the locket over Jacob’s neck, placing a small kiss to his lips. Yells broke out. Thundering footsteps and the shouts of men sounded as they ran up the path towards the boys. Some carried tools from their work on the farms, pitchforks and sharp blades with flimsy wooden handles that gleamed and rang with untamed bloodlust. Jacob’s fear was almost tangible. The men descended upon Deus like a pack of wolves; shouting words that he could not bring himself to hear or marvel at. His eyes were fixated on Jacob’s – never blinking, not for a second.
It seemed as though time had slowed down. Maybe it had. All Deus was focusing on was the thickness of Jacob’s eyelashes and his wide, round pupils. The men ignored him, shoving past him with disgust as they concentrated on carrying the unmoving demi-god. Others, younger and smaller with youthful faces on top of men’s bodies, crowded round Jacob like vultures and preyed on his confusion. The sharp, high voices of the boys could be heard on the way to the centre of the village; they must have followed. Jacob must have followed. That thought alone filled Deus with hope.
That thought alone was the thought that gave Deus the nerve to walk to his own fate, and lie his head down on the damp wooden block; wet with the rain, but that rain felt like the blood of the men who had knelt there before him. Deus’ eyes never left Jacob, Jacob who stood in the centre of the front row, back straight and face as blank as an unpainted canvas. Jacob, who watched Deus’ last moments with a fearful glance, and a distracted stare. Jacob, Deus’ only love.
The voice grew louder over him, and he did not try again. Instead, he looked desperately at the object of his affection and tried to drink his every feature. Deus memorized the curve of his chin, lifted slightly to suggest defiance, but his lowered eyelids with thick eyelashes told Deus that the boy was scared, and possibly humbled. His hands were clenched in front of his body, knuckles pale next to the rest of his sun tanned skin. He wore the amulet around his neck, tied on by a piece of string instead of the silver chain Deus had presented it to him on. Deus could not see his eyes, but he remembered their strong colour and endless depth, and the plumpness of his boy’s lips told nothing of the tenderness, the softness Deus had felt earlier that day. The boy’s figure was hidden under swathes of thick wool, but the blue belt at his waist highlighted how small he was compared to the mountains of clothing he wore in such a hot climate.
The whirl of metal through the air came too slowly, as though it was moving through dense air. The boy in front of him never changed his expression; the emotionless, hard, blank stare of deep disinterest ripped a tear through his heart. As he felt the blade slice his skin, Deus watched his boy turn away from him, confusion laced in his eyes. He pushed through the crowd as he turned, and made to walk away like he could escape the sound of death. At that very last moment, Deus saw a flash of sorrow pass across his boy’s face. And in that moment, Deus’ heart stopped beating. In the next, his head was severed from his body. In that moment, he had died.
Obsidian black skies stretched out for miles about Deus’ head, the stars twinkling far away at the young god as he crouched like a tiger ready to pounce. His bright blue hair glowed for a moment as he tensed, hand hovering over his silver raincloud, poised to pour the torrential fury of the heavens down on the boys below. They taunted and hurt the one he was watching over, and it was for purely selfish reasons that he wanted to strike them down with lightning. That small, thin boy they mocked and punched had been under Deus’ careful watch for quite some time now, almost a year in human time. He had affected Deus completely, drove him to break his vow of refrain from interference.
It began at first during his father’s lesson about the world he had created; his father had allowed Deus to look through his mirror at the lives below. His eyes had wandered for so long that he forgot the lesson, engrossed in the civilisation below his clouds. His father laughed gently at Deus when he finally emerged, “You see son, that world is beautiful. It requires careful guidance and a delicate balance to survive, and one day you will carry on from me when I am gone.”
Over time, Deus was granted more opportunities to look down over Earth. Slowly, he had developed a favourite village to watch (he didn’t have to concentrate on the whole world like his father, he had light-years before that) and took note of all of its major happenings. Soon, he became engrossed in everything else about it, and began to take time out of his day every day to check on his village. It wasn’t long before he had found one person he kept noticing, one person that his eyes would slip to given half a second. But his father had banned him from the mirror, worried that Deus was becoming too attached to Earth.
Deus was sneaky though, and parted the clouds above his village to watch them, even riding down on his raincloud to get a closer look at his raven haired boy. The boy’s name was Jacob, a small insignificant fifth son of a lowly fisherman who would grow up to inherit nothing and marry a poor girl from the next village over. Deus knew all this, but still he watched Jacob with ever growing desire and longing, watching over the boy as he tried to get through life avoiding the others who took delight in mocking him and hurting him. Deus became careless in his habits, and soon he was discovered.
“You claim to love this mere mortal?!” His father thundered, black clouds gathering around his head. He reared himself to his full, terrifying height and roared at his son. “You love this, boy? Deus, you violate every sacred law I have ever made, traitor. You want to become human, I know, I heard you when you spoke about him to yourself.”
“Father, please, just leave Jacob alone and I will do anything you ask.” Deus cried out, “Please, leave him be, for me; your son.” His father lashed out with anger.
“No son of mine loves humans.” And he threw Deus to Earth, stealing his son’s powers.
From high above in his heavenly home, Deus had never really had to understand homosexuality. It was something humans frowned upon, he knew that, and he knew his father believed it was wrong. But beyond that, he’d never really bothered to discover what it meant. So, when he arrived on Earth in blue trousers decorated with a light dusting of sparkles and glitter and a clingy vest shirt-like object he had no idea why people, mere children, shouted harsh words at him and drove him away. They yelled after him, but what confused him was why he was intimidated enough by them to run away.
He ran off, down the village street and leapt out of the way of a cart. The whole place was busy and loud, animals domineered the roads and women walked slowly along the edges of the roads with heavy baskets of cloth or material. Some were obviously coming back from a washing place, because the cloth in their baskets was wet and weighed them down worse than others. Children squabbled, running and dashing through carts; weaving a dangerous pattern with each step. Deus carried on down the street, feet hitting the dry earth ground as he slowed to a walk.
And then he saw him. Brown hair with thin whispers of adulthood growing on his chin, dressed in rough tunic, the boy was walking along one of the tracks up towards a farm that he could barely see in the distance. Deus ran to catch up, calling out, “wait for me!” He stopped beside the boy, skidding in the dirt and kicking the ground onto his trousers. The boy looked down at his trousers with a disbelieving glance, and turned to carry on walking, shaking his head slowly and brushing Deus off.
“I am Deus. I am new in these parts.”
Still, he received no reply and had to lengthen his stride to keep up. “What is your name?” The boy determinedly did not turn to face him; he even turned the other way when Deus stood on his other side in an attempt to strike up conversation.
“I have enough problems as it is, I don’t need you adding to them. Just leave me alone.” The boy spoke, and Deus lost himself for a second in the voice. It rippled gently like water, trickling and slowly wandering its way around him. The boy walked on faster, moving off at an awkward, jerky pace. But Deus stood for a moment, allowing the voice to wrap around him before he carried on, running to keep up. He slowed into a loping pace with long steps which stretched his legs and forced him walk with a slight, accidental limp on one side. “Look, leave me alone!”
Deus caught his arm, looking at him with a plaintive plea. He watched as the boy’s face hardened, but he did not wrench his arm away. A small sigh escaped his lips, and Deus took that as a sign; he plunged on. “I am Deus-” But beyond that, he had no other explanation. Lacking another choice, he carried on; trying to spin his sorry story into something the boy would understand or believe.
“Your father named you after the demi-god Deus? No wonder you’re so eccentric!” The boy laughed with a half grin on his face. His smile brightened Deus’ bleak outlook, and he plunged on with his story.
“No, I am the demi-god Deus.” Shocked and ashamed, the boy bowed down before Deus and dipped his head to the ground. “Jacob, I have come down to Earth for you.” Jacob glanced up, a look of confusion on his face. “I have spent many, many human hours watching and observing your way of life, and I come here with a promise to you.” He reached out, guiding Jacob to his feet grandly. “I present you with this locket which I created from my love for you, and promise you that I will never abandon you throughout our lives together. I became human for you, and I will die human with you.” With those ending words, he pressed a light kiss to his boy’s cheek. Leaning back, he pulled a locket out from a pocket. He had crafted the locket up in his father’s house in the hopes of presenting it to Jacob one day but that day came sooner than he had expected.
He draped the locket over Jacob’s neck, placing a small kiss to his lips. Yells broke out. Thundering footsteps and the shouts of men sounded as they ran up the path towards the boys. Some carried tools from their work on the farms, pitchforks and sharp blades with flimsy wooden handles that gleamed and rang with untamed bloodlust. Jacob’s fear was almost tangible. The men descended upon Deus like a pack of wolves; shouting words that he could not bring himself to hear or marvel at. His eyes were fixated on Jacob’s – never blinking, not for a second.
It seemed as though time had slowed down. Maybe it had. All Deus was focusing on was the thickness of Jacob’s eyelashes and his wide, round pupils. The men ignored him, shoving past him with disgust as they concentrated on carrying the unmoving demi-god. Others, younger and smaller with youthful faces on top of men’s bodies, crowded round Jacob like vultures and preyed on his confusion. The sharp, high voices of the boys could be heard on the way to the centre of the village; they must have followed. Jacob must have followed. That thought alone filled Deus with hope.
That thought alone was the thought that gave Deus the nerve to walk to his own fate, and lie his head down on the damp wooden block; wet with the rain, but that rain felt like the blood of the men who had knelt there before him. Deus’ eyes never left Jacob, Jacob who stood in the centre of the front row, back straight and face as blank as an unpainted canvas. Jacob, who watched Deus’ last moments with a fearful glance, and a distracted stare. Jacob, Deus’ only love.