Giveth and Taketh My Life

I couldn’t believe that I was regaining my feeling–that must mean I’m dispelling the venom! The chills I was inflicted with had alternated to soothing me instead of tightening and straining my muscles.

I was channeling my blood with magic, although I didn’t know how. Working together with Asa, I was staving off the plague like never before! Overflowing, it cleared my vision from blur and nauseous purple and gave me life. I observed my palms and where they were held by Asa’s. There were magic insigmas, an emblem of rampant green. They drew in vibrant golden yellow light as strands from the void in this world.

I resounded in joy. I had my own magic! I was more than I ever was on Earth. I could be more than I’ve ever imagined thanks to my choice. I was never brilliant, yet I feel that gaining magic is a suitable substitute. Money, hell, nothing could ever buy or replicate this.

Maybe I’m like a phoenix. In essence, I died to be transported here. With my oath and consummation, I am a bird that is allowed second life. It is like a dream to me. Well, whatever this turns out to be, I’m living it and I won't give it up for anything!

Asa peered in telepathically. [When you first consummate, you are given an outburst of power. After, you can use your magic simply by visualizing it and having the requisite emblem with a god. In the divine realm, that is all that it takes.]

Visualization. A concept pivotal to video games. My handheld system, the GameGirl, was over thirty years old, but it was a savior to me in my terrible life. I think you need something to care about, or your world will be solely apathetic. My eldest brother gave it to me as a cruel Christmas present. I imagine he thought as follows: give your loser brother an antiquated device and watch it malfunction. He and his sadistic nature. Turns out it was made of sturdy stuff. 30 years? What would some more do to it? The games were long discontinued and gone from the market, so I only had the one, Marcus Quest. 

I wonder what heights I could take this to if I combine multiple gods’ magic in synchronization or in synergetic order. Skill combination is what my character, Marcus the Choosen Knight, did to great effect. 

But me? A Divine Trickster Thief. So scary and so appealing. I could be as powerful as a … protagonist? Someone who can always get magically stronger... I choked on nothing.

I was only rattled by my potential.

“YOU. You... Wood Chucker! He’s glowing worse than a firefly behind. And it is working?” Viatrix seethed out. His snakes contorted and changed colors to a deep red, too.

“This isn’t how venom is supposed to react in a human body! You can’t just glow off the effects; you need an antivenom or time to build up immunity and dispel the venom through your organs. I would even be fine with seeing you amputate your limbs! But this! Oh, I thought you cared about animals, you traitor, but you are just another animal-ignorant moron telling off my research and education. Viatrix has a PhD, you know, but nobody thinks it is respectable only because it is in zoology.”

I smiled. This was the pure awesomeness of magic. Just because you had these opportunities doesn't mean you are bound to win. This place isn’t the flawed Solar City, the city that would always glow neon across the horizon even if the Sun were to burn out.

Against reason, we were all stunned by the crushing of the oak floor with each step, followed by heavy, confident breathing. The unknown wore no shoes. Shouldn't they be splintering themselves in recoil? I guess damage of that level is nothing to... oh, this is too soon. Could that be a god?!

A shirtless figure overlooked us with a euphoric smile. It stood two and a half humans in stature. The torso was overblown with muscle fiber and masculine. He had scars and blemishes spread across his body as if he had an infection. There must have been thirty blades and ornaments of steel struck and glistening from its crevices, becoming one with his bloodmoon skin. Their placements were nothing but precise for what should have been battle wounds. In the center of his naval was a javelin and a shaft entirely of a material that resembled dark steel. What was that about?

His orange hair was tied with rubber casings into six braids, two in the front, the rest looped from the back. He was admittedly attractive in the same way you would glorify a sculpture.

It was as if I invoked a surreal phobia that lay dormant in the air. I felt absolute fear of death to the point of tears of helplessness. My former resolve shattered. My heart beats became drums, convinced I was counting down my demise.

I saw it spread across Asa’s and Viatrix’s faces as well. I heard Viatrix and his snakes relieve themselves pitifully for moments. I would have done the same if I weren’t lucky and saw him do it first.

I instinctively reached back to hold Asa’s hand. I couldn’t face this alone, but hers was shaking far past mine.

At once, her hand clasped down with intent.

[This is my dormant weapon, Astrid. The god of war was bound to show if anyone fights long enough in the divine realm. Any fight he finds is suitable enjoyment for him.] She telecommunicated. [We have survived long enough to win. Our first battle of our campaign is a success.]

No, I don’t believe this. This isn’t a secret ability. This isn’t the signature honing of your strength to create something out of nothing. A fatal flaw conformed unto a usable blade. This is simply exchanging your dealt hand of cards with sinister death itself and wishing for the best. I understand why Asa was silent. I wouldn’t have been able to believe and stay calm. Obliviousness was preferred to this. I want to make haste, yet his feral purple eyes and sturdy battle stance are challenging this and the very thought of movement.

 I realized his aura was using the meaning and new life I was given against me. It forced me to consider everything I had and how it could be snatched too quickly to even have regrets. He has every weapon from every time period and land at his disposal.  

I have to say, Asa, this plan was definitively the makings of an underdog. Maybe we wouldn’t be underdogs any longer, only dead.

“Let us look upon this pitiful sight. A half-man, half-wimpering animal and a new medium holding onto the foul Asa. I’ve killed numerous gods of Goodwill, and there is always more. There is no fun to be had here with someone so repugnant in their approach! You are just like godless humans! The art of war turned out to be a failure for your stupid kind. They make time for peace and alliances. Not for us gods, we fight to ascend and as our only way of life. To ignore fighting is the greatest sin! Huff." 

"Spineless beatdown leftovers. Where is the real fighting to be had? You are all women; I can smell their timid likeness on you. I want to see some fierce, free young men! That’s what I like.” A healthy voice thundered, physically making my head ache.

“Vioshmight,” Viatrix whispered, trembling.