A Man and his Goddess

Alchma Mel brought his victim into the temple, baring the door from the inside. Alchma wore his old, dented armor, his head was shaved, he head two scares across his face. The victim wore a stained orange dress, and had brown curly hair. “Please spare me.” She pleaded. “I have children! Please!” Alchma punched her in response.

He grabbed her by her dress and hair forced her to face the altar fire. “Oh great Azrae! I give you this sacrifice of blood and flame!” Mel prayed to his goddess.

“No, please!” the victim screamed, the heat from the fire burning her face.

Alchma held her tightly one hand, took out a knife with the other and cut her throat. Her blood flowed onto the altar. “Come to me great Azrae goddess of war. Azrae come!” He continued. He lifted the victims body as she suffocated on her own blood and threw her on the fire. “Come Azrae!”

A wind blew through the temple, then from behind him Mel heard a sigh. “Why do you call me?” A women’s voice asked.

Mel turned and saw a young woman in a red robe, with tan skin, and flaming red hair, standing in the middle of the room. He fell to his knees, bowing before Azrae. “Oh great Azrae, my enemies gather, they seek my death. I ask for your assistance-”

“Why would I care about your enemies?” Azrae responded, looking down at him. She paused then, “Or you?” Azrae said in an annoyed tone.

Mel looked at Azrae, “I-” he paused in shock, “I have sacrificed greatly for you, I have given you and the other gods much-”

“Oh you pathetic mortals.” Azrae moved her right hand over her right eye and repeatedly touched her index finger and thumb. “Oh how if only all mortals had but one head! I did not ask for your sacrifices and I give you nothing in return.” she said her arm returning to her side.

“But- But I-” Mel attempted to speak. He stood up, pointed at her and angrily yelled: “You owe me!”

Mel screamed in pain as his arm flung itself out pointing away from him, his muscles painfully cramped.

Azrae instantly moved from the center of the temple to inches from Mel. “I owe you nothing!” she said angrily in a voice that shook the temple.

Mel, against his own will, began walking backwards toward the altar fire.

She place her finger on her chest and; “I am a god! We ask for nothing, we give nothing-” she held her hand out palm up, “-and when we want something-” she closed her hand into a tight clenched fist, “we take it.” Azrae pointed at Mel, “You try to impose your will-” she placed her hand on her chest, “-on us. That’s not how it goes,” Azrae twirled her finger,: “It’s the other way around.”

Mel stopped just inches from the fire, regaining control of his body. He fell to his knees, cradling his arm, still in pain. Mel looked up to Azrae, “They’ll kill me.” Mel said to her in a pitiful voice.

“That’s not my problem,” Azrae replied coldly, “don’t complain to me about it. You all die eventually.” Azrae vanished. “You will have plenty of people to listen to your complaints in the abyss.” her disembodied voice continued.

Image by darksouls1 at Pixiabay