《Where Muses Go To Die》#2 -MF- Chapter 1

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Have you ever wished to just close your eyes, and fall asleep? To embrace blissful nothing and wondrous dreams?

I have. But, if wishes were so easily granted, life would be miserable. Well, more miserable than now.

Now, you may be wondering, "Is this guy some crazy insomniac?"

I'm afraid the answer to that is no. Sadly, I'm a god.

Most people would be like, "Woah, cool! Being a god must be super cool!"

Sorry to pop your bubble, but it's not all smiting and worship.

Godhood is more of an inconvenience than anything else.

First you have a group of people you're supposed to take care of, next you can't actually protect them, and then you're the one they blame when it's really those leafing gods of law and justice. You know, the ones who everyone is all, "Oh my law! Please judge me! And be a total root about it too!"

They irritate me the most. What's worse is that punching other gods is also prohibited, so unless I want a major one coming down here to shove a planet up my flower, I can't give those earworm-loving fungi the beating they deserve.

Woo~ lets calm down a bit. There's a whole bunch of other things that godhood does to make my life a pain, like the impulse to smite the wicked and bless the righteous and the urge to talk to myself, but what irks me right now is my inability to sleep.

You hear stories of gods tricking other gods to drink something that puts them to sleep, or of mortals sealing evil gods into a stasis. Sure, that's all fine and dandy, but I have to ask-

Why can't I be the one who drinks something to knock me out?

The answer is probably that no one cares whether I'm awake or sleeping...oh! I forgot to mention to myself, which feels very strange, that while I've been complaining to myself a couple billion years just passed and things that resemble very large rocks with teeth and spines and claws and horrible, nasty frothy mouths have started to go around and kill each other.

*Sigh* it's gonna be one of those worlds, isn't it?

I briefly considered making one of these species my chosen people, however I wasn't able to sense a sentient life-form with the intelligence to recognize me as more than food.

Honestly, I'd rather have a bunch of these howling animals be my chosen. Considering what's happened before, it would undoubtedly be easier. Now, if I can just manage to eliminate my people early, then I can go and bother some of the other gods. Not much passes for entertainment, besides the lives of mortals, and I have no interest in those. Stem, a god-child hasn't been born in...was it billions, or trillions of years? Not counting mortal-god-half-breeds, of course.

It's funny. You would think one divine being would attract another, but it's the very fact that mortals are flawed that draw us gods to them like vultures to carrion. I use this analogy because gods are parasites, that disguise their leeching as "Gifts" and "Blessings."

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Funny enough, gods and goddesses have little to no actual attraction to each other. It's always political or strategic when a god is born. If only mortals knew, I'm guessing they'd be either revolted, or curious. Curiosity is another one of the mortals funny traits, and hard for divines to understand. Omnipotence does that to people. Well, near-omnipotence.

It's like being able to look in two directions at once, but it's confusing and hard to do for very long. Except for gods, we use our third eye, and our regular eyes, and then some of the really show-offy divines use their seventh eye, just for kicks.

Oh, leaf my life. another half-million years passed while I was day-dreaming. If I don't hurry up, things are gonna get ugly...

I take a look around, and feel disappointment.

Three variations of cold-bloods, eighty different variations of warm bloods, seven spirit races, and who-knows how many combinations capable of reproduction. Even worse, one of those bark-mad upstart divines barely a trillion years old snuck in while I wasn't watching and impregnated the whole world with magic. He didn't even help shape the core! He's lucky devouring other divines was outlawed...

While I fumed over the childs' transgression, the first groups of people were formed. Three species of warm-bloods went extinct, and at least a dozen combinations died off along with them. Meanwhile, the area where I was most concentrated-a little peninsula on the once-mega continent. I guess you'd call it an island? Or maybe a continent? Whatever-it seems that my irritation was picked up by the inhabitants.

On the island/continent/former peninsula there lived one of the cold-bloods, and three warm-bloods. Since the seven spirit races lived everywhere, they weren't worth mentioning.

First, the warm and cold-bloods began to grow less intelligent, and then feral. The four separated, then began to fight. Very soon, the warm bloods ganged-up on the cold, and drove them to near-extinction. At this point, one of the warm-bloods back-stabbed the other two, and gained an advantage. For twenty years-less than a blink-the other two warm-bloods bent knee to the other, until they revolted and drove the traitor race to the edges of the-I'll just call it a continent. It's big enough, I think.-continent.

The two then turned on each other, and slaughtered each other until it seemed like I could spot the bloodstains from my perch. Soon, they began using the lesser warm blood to fight for them, making it so that the traitor warm-bloods fought and killed each other, for the sake of the ones they betrayed.

Two hundred years of slaughter ended with neither side the victor, and all three of the warm-bloods exhausted and broken.

Then came the era of the cold bloods.

They crept of the corners and the crags, and took the warm-bloods almost without resistance. For generations, the warm-bloods had done nothing but weaken themselves, but the cold-bloods had been spending that time purifying their bloodlines and breeding themselves into the epitome of strength.

Hatred between the four kept them snapping at each-others throats, At this point, the very earth had begun to shape itself to my mood, and the very dirt and rocks gleamed a dull red. Magma had the habit of popping up in odd places, and the continent had actually expanded by several hundred miles in the last hundred years. This rate of growth was unnatural, and shouldn't have been possible.

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But, as they say...the wrath of god is easily kindled.

However, even in the barren plains of this continent, broken up by mountains bellowing smoke, animal life still existed. The reason this was so is because of the spirits.

When my anger was first sensed, six of the spirit races slowly left, while one seemed to gravitate towards it. The strange thing was, spirits are colorless...

...or, they should've been. The ones that inhabited this continent had been dyed green-red-black. Then, depending on their color, they divided themselves into several sub-sections. Spirits are supposed to be neutral, unbiased, and set apart. But, when the cold-bloods control weakened...

...the spirits wrenched away control. Thirty years passed, one thing led to another, and the sub-sections of the spirits started killing each other. And then, now that the four non-spirits had replenished their numbers, they splashed their bodies across the ground anew, and, if possible, with greater fervor.

I had grown bored of anger, and all of a sudden, I felt very tired. I surveyed the carnage brought about by my emotion, and gave myself a brief laugh.

If I'd stopped three-hundred years ago, then perhaps peace could've been found. As it is...the hate between them runs too deep. It's out of my hands.

Might as well take a closer look.

Taking the form of a cold-blood, I took physical form on this continent.

Ash. Dust. Brimstone. If my purpose had been to create a non-fictional hell, then I'd have accomplished it. The smoke-filled air stung my eyes and choked my throat. Sharp rocks cut every part of me that wasn't scaled, and I had to shoo three animals who were looking for a meal.

I came across the site of a recent skirmish. Looks like a warm-blood party had gotten caught in the cross fire of two spirit groups. The spectral dust left behind when a spirit died, which should have been rare, lay on the ground scattered like dirt. I kept walking.

Even funnier than the animals, the way the plants had adapted was simply magnificent. Not one plant wasn't on the way toward intelligence, and a few were able to move around enough to become carnivores. Between rocks, all through crevices, a strange black weed grew. However, when I picked it up, I almost sneezed.

Packed into that small handful of weed was enough power to crush a hill. This weed had first been made by several spirits, however, the unstable and thick concentration of power had warped and twisted it, creating something wonderful and horrible at the same time.

I put down the plant, and continued to walk. I stopped at the site of yet another skirmish, and sat on a couple of piled corpses. I had grown tired of having to warm my blood myself, so I reverted to my divine form. Behind a stone, I heard a squeak. I lifted the rock with a thought, and hiding behind it was a spirit. The spirit seemed very afraid, and bowed very low. So low, in fact, that it phased slightly through the ground.

"I-I'm very sorry to have spied on you, Divine One."

I smiled bemusedly, and patted the air beside my seat in an unmistakable gesture. The shy spirit floated over to the area indicated, taking the smallest form possible. I sat, a proud figure blazing with divine power, next to a golf-ball sized wisp. One of the many amusing forms spirits could take.

"Worry yourself not; I'm not interested in staying unknown, and I would enjoy the company, if you don't have something pressing to attend to."

It shifted briefly into a wide-eyed fish, as though wanting to scream out 'what could possibly be more pressing than you?' It gained control of itself, and shifted into a wispy ribbon. "Of course, I would be deeply honored to simply bask in your presence."

I frowned. This made the spirit change into a long string, and curl up behind another rock. I sighed and disintegrated the rock and said, "I'm just a bit proud that I can intimidate you, it's really flattering, but if you would drop the whole, 'respect' thing, I'd appreciate it. Not very good for making conversation, you know. "

The spirit shifted into an eel, then wriggled with discomfort. "I don't think I can..."

I grinned, then lifted my hand. "I can always vaporize you."

The spirit let out a small scream, then hurried to shift into a pigeon and ramble, "Of course! Anything you say, Divi-um, si-your gra-um-uh-"

I smiled at the spirit, then grunted and stood up. "Come. Follow me."

The spirit halted it's speech, then started following me. "Uh, Divi-why me?"

I walked liesurely, only bothering to dim my power, and answered the spirit. "If I had to say, it would be that I think you're cute. That, and you're the only non-divine I've met, and seeing as I hate all of them, you are very much preferable."

The spirit changed into a bird with scales, and winged after me. "Cute? In what way?"

I stepped up onto a large hill in the middle of a huge incline, and looked about myself. On all sides, the cold, warm-bloods, and spirits had gathered. They were all armed, and all seemed determined. Obviously, this would be the last battle. I took one last step onto the top of the hill, and spread my arms. Then I answered the spirit.

"You don't make me want to erase your molecules on sight. That's more than I can say for anyone else."

I was only being half-sarcastic.

Chapter 2

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