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The church always looked the loveliest in the evening.
Evening--when the settlers of the land, once hurried about their business as they trampled and dashed to and fro, steadied to a crawl as they lumbered back to their candlelit wooden cabins, tucked neatly into their little hovels to celebrate the day’s spoils.
And then came the quiet. The familiar crisp golden circle that rose above the horizon, releasing soft tides of rose-colored hues upon the sky that cascaded upon the rich green landscape below.
Moss laid his hand upon the weathered wood of the church pews as he sat down, brushing the soft blanket of moss and dust laid upon it. Although nearly overtaken by the growth of moss and erosion of the wind, little glimpses of that beautiful human handiwork stuck out beneath the greenery. The intricate carvings in the stone bricks and the pink glass in the church windows.
He had been spending a beautiful golden evening within the comforting and quiet sanctuary of his church, present quietly among the pews as he usually was.
And then a sound brushed by his ear, a light footstep in the dirt beyond the church door. He figured it to be a passing animal--a rabbit scampering in the brush, a spider, or even a passing settler.
With a sigh, Moss turned his gaze towards the entrance.
A small humanoid figure stood in front of the church doorway, firm and still. And upon closer inspection, the thing was only made of bare bones.
He shrugged it off. One of the undead skeletons. He’d seen them passing through at night, not usually this close to the church, but who knows.
But then the skeleton raised its hand, firm and high, before dipping its head and arm in a formal bow.
Moss raised an eyebrow, but then he froze, and his face dropped.
The skeleton cleared its throat.
“Good evening, Sir Moss.”
Moss sat firmly against the church pew, staring the intruder down.
“Hail and well met,” Moss replied, “State your purpose.”
“I was sent by my lord, King of Souls and Skeletons,” he continued, “He requires your presence.”
Moss tightened his fists, digging his fingernails into the palm of his hand.
“For what?”
“My lord would prefer to disclose that in person,” the skeleton murmured.
“In that case, tell your lord that his invitation is declined.”
“With all due respect, this is more than an invite-”
“If this matter is so urgent, I deserve an explanation.” Moss ordered, “My time is valuable and as far as I’m concerned, our paths have no reason to cross again.”
“This is a matter concerning that.”
“Concerning my work?” Moss retorted. “If he wants to know, I’m doing alright for myself. I don’t see why we need to check-in, our past business is done.”
“It isn’t.”
Moss shot him a sharp glare. He shot up from his seat and stomped towards the skeleton until the two were only a few paces apart. The spores of light crackled around him as he burned his gaze into his skull.
“It is. My business with the King has been done for a hundred years.”
Despite his threats, the skeleton’s face remained as still and indifferent as when he walked in, dead and empty as stone.
The skeleton simply cleared his throat and repeated himself.
“Pardon me, but it isn't,” he said.
The skeleton bowed his head and continued.
“There’s news that my lord wishes to disclose with you privately that concerns his past business with you directly,” the skeleton explained once more, “Once again, he requests your presence as soon as possible.”
Moss sighed. He was talking to a concrete wall.
A stiff, immovable, ugly concrete wall.
“Forget it,” Moss asserted, “I have a business to attend to.”
Moss whipped his back to the skeleton and lifted himself into the air. His eye was on his floating island, and he’d wait it out there as long as it took to get the King’s squire to leave him be-
“If it makes any difference in the matter, the Nether Empress is attending.”
He froze.
Moss turned to face the skeleton.
“What?”
“Hm?”
“No, what did you say?”
“The Nether Empress is attending as well with my lord, they both require your presence.” he continued.
“Why is she with him, again? The last time she was…”
He trailed off, words lost on his lips as they fled into the open air. Yet the silence that hung heavy and thick in the air between him and this skeleton spoke of more despair than he could ever admit uttering.
“My lord has news, regarding your past business, that he wishes to disclose with you directly.” the skeleton repeated, and added on, “It is your choice to attend, but for their sake, I highly suggest you do.”
Moss slowly lowered his feet to the ground of the church, his gaze softened and lost in thought.
“If required, I can provide an escort-”
“Will not be necessary, I remember the way.”
***********************************
He had hoped to never see this place again.
Towering hills of obsidian sand were laid before him, crackling under the heat of blue flames scattered throughout the landscape like eternal forest fires. They filled the air with smoke and heat that scratched at his throat.
It was suffocating.
Suffocating in this infinite land of sand and ash.
It extended in every direction with no end in sight, yet still left him trapped with this ceiling of crimson rock hanging so closely above him, blocking out the sky and threatening to pull down and crush him whole.
He swerved around swathes and swathes of sandy hills as he floated by, eventually seeing dots of bone-white in the landscape below.
A skeleton wandering by. A strange landmark of bone was placed here and there.
As he trailed these specks, they appeared more and more. Eventually, the ceiling above him opened up to reveal the kingdom he’d been trying to find.
Tall, pale white spires clustered together, towering high above where Moss stood, encircled by thick walls of dark stone, lit by torches with a sickly blue light. Lines of skeletons stood firm against the top of the castle walls, gripping spears, and crossbows tight in their hands as troops marched in and out and within the walls.
This was it.
Moss waved a hand and dissipated his physical form into a poof of sparkling spores. Invisible, except for a few glimpses of green and golden light at his feet.
He swooped down to the castle walls, hearing the chatter, noise, and clatter of the working troops as he grew closer and closer.
Fortunately, none seemed to pay too much mind as he flew through. But from the sound of it, they seemed to be doing well at least.
He darted towards the castle’s entrance and flew straight through the barred gate.
As he swooped through the rooms of the castle, the inside was surprisingly just as he remembered. The signature bone and stone walls and towers circled each other connected by bridges intersecting each other like a crazed architecture spiderweb.
Most of the rooms appeared empty or occupied by working skeletons. A meeting was held by a few troops. A line of soldiers was led across the bridge. Workers down below unloading storage or attending to carts and broken tools.
The King was always so war-ready and uptight, wasn’t he? Even after all this time.
“That scout better be back by now…”
Moss whipped around.
He knew that voice.
Immediately, he soared back through the rooms behind him, following the sound.
And he ended up launching himself straight into the King’s private chambers. An elaborate room decorated with black brick and blue carpet stood before him. A silver chandelier heaved above him with each swing, casting the same icy light across the room.
Yet as he whipped his head back and forth, he saw nothing but a vacant bedroom.
He just heard them, hadn’t he?
“Just give it a minute. Your scouts are more competent than you give them credit for.”
“My troops don’t need your flattery.”
“Jeez, guess they aren’t then? I don’t know what you want from me.”
Moss turned, tracking the noise to the open balcony on the far side of the room. And there, he spotted them.
The hunched King hung his weathered arms over the balcony rail, shrouded by a dark cape and heavy armor that enveloped his enormous form. And next to him stood the smaller crimson Empress, dressed in a formal red gown.
And immediately, he felt his heart drop in his chest.
He didn’t want to do this anymore.
“He’ll respond, right?” the Empress asked in the open air.
“He better,” the king grumbled, hitting a fist against the railing.
“For goodness sake, please have some restraint and don’t start a fight-”
“I won’t.”
“You will, I know you want to. You always do.” she retorted, and sighed, “This is the first time we’ve seen each other for a while, don’t make it worse than it already is.”
Moss waited for the King to respond, but he simply shuffled his arms and slouched against the rail, turning his head away from the empress.
“You know very well I can see you, Moss.” the King snorted.
Moss sighed. Right. Guess he can’t get out of this now.
He waved a hand, and the particles below his feet stirred into a whirlwind of light. And there he was, standing in full presence in front of the King and the Empress.
The two eyed him down up and down, and he immediately wanted to shrink away. It was hard to get a read on their faces, but they shared a similar look in both that made him feel like he didn’t belong there with them.
Of course, he didn’t, but he didn’t have to like it.
“Hello to you too.”
He waited for a response, but the two silently studied him, sharing a glance or two between them. They were hesitating.
The empress spoke up.
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” she greeted with a tight smile, “You’ve changed your hair.”
“Suppose I have,” Moss curtly replied, “Seems like you two are doing well.”
Moss trailed off, leaving them room in the conversation for them to take. Yet they stood there like they were anticipating something from him. Was he supposed to say something else? Why were they so quiet?
“Look, can someone tell me what’s going on?” Moss started, “My business with you was finished.”
“Well if you’re going straight to it, I thought it was, but your-” the King grumbled.
“Hey.” The empress warned, glaring down.
“No, I want to hear it.” Moss pushed.
Moss approached the King with a rigid stride, head held firm and high until he stood a few paces away.
“Tell me what you were going to say about that. Go on,” he repeated.
“Moss, please-” the Empress pleaded.
“No, go ahead. Feel free. The sooner you say it, the sooner I can leave.”
The King huffed, fire flickering behind his eyes.
“You’re as stubborn as ever, I can see,” he remarked.
Moss didn’t break his gaze, daring the King to continue. The King simply let out a groan and shuffled his arms.
“I’m not starting with this, I need you to listen, because I’m only saying this once-” the King snorted, “This isn’t fun for either of us to tell you.”
“What is it then?” Moss interrupted, his eyes flashing back between the Empress and the King, “I feel like I did something wrong. But no one’s telling me what’s going on.”
The two grew silent once again. And he couldn’t help but notice how the both of them averted their gazes from his eyes. The Empress cast her eyes towards the floor, rubbing the side of her arm with her hand.
“What aren’t you telling me?” Moss pressed.
“Look, Moss, there’s no easy way to say this,” the Empress began, “But we just need you to know that this news isn’t your fault.”
“What isn’t?”
“You handled the situation back then well in the end, and I have no qualms with it.” the King asserted.
“So what’s the issue then?” Moss asked, folding his arms, “You know I did what I had to for everyone’s sake, and I’ve accepted it. I’m done with it.”
“Not exactly, Moss.” the Empress interjected.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
The Empress raised her eyes to meet Moss with a softened gaze. And she reached out, laying a gentle hand on Moss’ shoulder.
“Moss, it’s the weapon, the one that could kill the gods.” she explained, “we believe it wasn’t destroyed,”
Moss immediately stiffened underneath her touch.
And there he felt his heart drop in his chest.
Her touch, although gentle, quickly became unwelcome as he pulled from her hand and stepped back.
“Not just believe, Empress. My troops have gotten confirmation on rumors that the weapon still exists, and remains intact.” The King continued,
Moss found his gaze drifting down to the floor, fixed upon the center of his shoes.
The weapon was back.
The one thing he had to destroy.
The one thing he did everything to get rid of.
He was dealing with this again.
He was dealing with this again.
“Moss, are you listening?”
Moss snapped his eyes up to meet the King’s and Empress’. He had let the silence waver for too long between them.
Moss spoke up. “So, the weapon wasn’t destroyed?”
“Not quite.” The Empress replied.
“Moreso, it’s been relocated.” The King elaborated, “Now, the good news is that as we know, no mortal has gotten their hands on the weapon, since we haven’t seen god casualties so far. And it appears that the mortals that know its exact location and history are long dead.”
“What’s the bad news?”
The King and Empress shared mutual glances.
“Well, we have no idea where it is.” The King admitted, “I’ve sent my best troops out to investigate said rumors, but with not much success.”
The Empress added on, “Whoever stored this weapon away definitely didn’t want it to be found, but we believe it may be somewhere in the nether.”
“Damnit,” Moss cursed, letting out a groan and running his hands through his hair, “I can’t do this again-”
“You won’t have to. But we need to find this before we get to that point.” The Empress asserted, “Unlike last time, there’s no hostile party attached to the weapon, so as long as we go about this quickly and quietly, we should be fine.”
Moss sighed.
“Thank you for making me aware.” Moss replied, “But I fail to see where I fit in the plan.”
“We need information about this weapon, as much as we can get.” she explained, “The weapon came from a settler from your land. If you have any clues, research, or writings from the mortals that will lead us to the weapon, we’re counting on you for that.”
“We need you to be on guard, Moss.” The King emphasized, “You were the prime target for the first attack. If word gets out about this, we need you to be ready to handle this.”
Moss snapped at the King with a snarl.
“Handle this? Again? Do you mean what I had to do? Killing all those innocent people?”
“If it comes down to it, protecting your fellow gods is the priority,” The King pointed out, “I thought you learned that, Moss.”
“You don’t know what it’s like- Do you realize how long it took my land and people to recover from that? Hundreds of years. A whole civilization of great people, all down the drain-”
“This won’t be the same as last time, Moss,” The Empress assured him, “We have the upper hand here, this time. We just need to be quick, and it’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure?” Moss pressed, “Or are you just saying that?”
The Empress paused.
“We handled this once, we can do it again.” The King pointed out.
“We’ll do our best to handle it from here, we just need you to keep your eyes open, alright?”
Moss fell silent. He opened his mouth, seemingly ready to retort, yet the words were lost on his lips. A few more moments of silence, but then he settled for a quiet nod.
“I’ll do my best,” Moss replied.
“Good.” The King said, “Then this meeting is adjourned. We have a long year ahead of us, let us get started.”
Moss turned his back to the King and Empress as he stepped away, refusing even a goodbye. If he had to stay there for another second, to deal with this, he probably would’ve broken down.
He wanted to just return to his island and curl up in the moss on the floor.
He hated feeling like this, especially again.
The constant worry.
The tight stress pinching his chest, boring its claws into him like a rabid dying dog.
The damn weapon was back again, and so was everything that came with it.
Two hundred years ago, he paid the ultimate price to let that go. To relinquish him and his fellow gods from that feeling. The feeling that kept them looking over their shoulders. The one that kept them up and made them tread lighter across their homes than they would.
The fear of death.
So natural and easy to a mortal, yet for a god, it could mean the end of it all.
As Moss retreated from the balcony, he waved his hand through the air, disappearing into a puff of golden spores. And then he was gone.