Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to real people are coincidental. If you are under the legal age in your area to read erotic literature, please stop reading this and go somewhere age appropriate. If you are offended by homosexual material, please stop reading this and go somewhere your bigoted little mind can handle. If you're looking for pure sex, and plot/character development only get in your way, this story is definitely not for you. The rest of you, please enjoy chapter twelve of this tale.
----------------------- Godsend Chapter 12: O'onerut
Min led me around the various rooms he knew of in the palace for the next few hours, using only secret entrances and passages. As he did, he told me all he knew of O'onerut, which turned out to be relatively little. Most of it had to do with the schedule O'onerut liked to keep and the way he went about destroying things. Min had seen several pantheons eliminated by the rogue god, and he had noticed some patterns.
First, O'onerut put on a display of power by killing one or two of the most powerful warrior gods, just to prove to the others that he could do what he wanted. Then he would call them to council, and if they would actually convene (one pantheon hadn't bent to any of O'onerut's demands and had ended up hunted down quickly and ruthlessly slaughtered) he would tell them of his plans. He would also show them during this meeting that he could beat them all in a fair fight, and that their lives meant nothing to him, usually by killing another one or two of them during the meeting. Then he would give them time to let their fear grow and possibly come to him for deals and trades. The only deals he ever accepted were the ones where the gods agreed to seal themselves up into mirrors, thereby leaving their godhood behind and removing themselves from his list of obstacles. More often than not, however, he would merely sit and wait.
After a short amount of time, he would start collecting humans to turn into Vaneel, and would draw one or two other gods out of hiding to try and stop him. These gods he would kill publicly, in front of humans and gods alike, to show the humans that there were real gods, and that he was more powerful.
A small group of humans would then start worshipping him and adding to his power base.
I wondered, at this point, who, if any, of his pantheon had come out to stop O'onerut from taking humans. I was also curious to know if any of the people living in my city had begun to worship O'onerut once they found out he was a god. I paused. They knew I was a god as well. Did I have any worshippers now?
O'onerut was a fan of cat and mouse games, toying with the pantheons while only destroying one or to gods at a time. Aside from the one pantheon that wouldn't play his games, the rest of them fell neatly into his traps. That one pantheon was the fastest one eliminated. When they chose to break the rules O'onerut had set up, he lost his patience quickly and ended them.
At any given point during this game, O'onerut would choose a mate for himself from the pantheon's young male gods. He would kidnap this god, or in Stefan's case, godling, and force him into submission. Three of these gods had deliberately made O'onerut so angry that he killed them. Min said he didn't blame them. With no family left and no humans to command, they had nothing to live for. Min had chosen a different way to die, however. He chose to make himself Vaneel to teach O'onerut a lesson. O'onerut was actually knocked down a peg or two in surprise when he found his toy covered in yellow leathery skin. Min said there was a real sadness in his eyes, which was quickly replaced by anger.
"Fine!" O'onerut had roared. "If you wish to give yourself over to being a mindless puppet, so be it!" He had then placed the insect on Min's head himself. Min had screamed as the stinger was piercing the back of his skull, but there had been no more pain than that. The insect had made a shield around Min's mind, but could not take it over.
When Min realized he was free of O'onerut's control, and that Oonerut was unaware of Mins regained freedom, his will to live returned. His desire for oblivion was replaced by his desire for revenge. Since then, he had been biding his time, watching, learning, waiting for the right moment to strike.
"So that's why he freaked out on me when I asked him if he wanted me to become Vaneel," I said to Min. "He was so hurt from your change that he didn't want to go through that again."
"Yes," Min said. "He really wants a god to worship and love him, but he doesn't know any other way but force. I pity him for that. Yet I don't foresee him changing his views to include another god on equal footing. Therefore, he will never be happy. He will destroy the very thing he wishes to have, and will never know why he feels so miserable.
"You see, gods are social creatures, Stefan. That is how they were created, and that is how they will always be. They cannot survive without the contact of other immortals for more than a thousand years or so. No amount of mortal worship can counteract that loneliness. This is why we have pantheons. Even the Highest Creator has contact with the heads of the pantheons. It is part of His design for all beings, mortal and immortal, to require companionship. It is the one nourishment we all require."
At that point, I loved God more than ever before. To make all of creation with that principle in mind was an act of true compassion. I understood now. Everything required love to survive, and nothing that wanted love could possibly be evil. O'onerut needed love, but he didn't know it. He would never know it, and he would destroy all of the gods trying to fill that void, then he himself would perish. I stopped hating him at that point. I still feared him, however, and now I felt sorry for him. If we would be able to stop him, I would feel sad at his destruction, just as I felt sad about Jacob's mind being destroyed to put him out of his misery.
"He also hates trickster gods," Min said, breaking me from my thoughts.
"Huh?"
"Trickster gods," Min said. "O'onerut is particularly cruel to them. I have not yet been able to figure out why."
"I saw. He pummeled Loki before killing him," I remembered. "Do you think the trickster god of his pantheon did something especially cruel to him?"
"I couldn't say," Min replied. "If we could somehow get into his chambers, there might be some clues of his history, or even how to defeat him in there."
"Which we can't use if we're stuck here," I pointed out.
"Stef."
The voice carried through the halls. It was O'onerut's. Part of me bristled that he had the nerve to call me the name reserved for my loved ones, but the other, larger part wanted nothing more than to hide and hope he didn't see me.
"I apologize for leaving you alone for so long," the voice said. I looked around and still couldn't see him.
"He's not here," Min said quickly. "He is broadcasting to the entire ship."
O'onerut continued. "I can understand why you would begin to wander. After all, this will be your new home, and it makes me glad that you would like to know your way around. To facilitate this, merely say my name at any door, and it will open for you. This way you can see the various chambers, and not just the corridors."
Min raised an eyebrow at me. This did have some promise.
"Regretfully, I have some business on Earth, and will be down there for several hours. Take care of yourself until then. Oh, and Stef: try not to touch the yellow substance that looks like liquefied Vaneel skin. It will hurt you and permanently damage whatever part of you it touches. Farewell, my pet."
My anger toward him resurfaced. How could it not? We needed to find a way to kill him. "You look upset," Min said.
"He talks to me like he owns me, and he calls me a name that only the people I love have any right to call me," I told Min.
"He does own you, to his thinking," Min replied calmly, "and he also thinks of you as a loved one already. He has little concept of how a real relationship works. Come now. Let`s go to his room. I know where it is, and now you have access to it."
We raced through a maze of hallways, laid out in a way that I'd always be lost without a guide like Min. I was getting out of breath, and felt like my chest was about to explode when he finally let us stop. Min looked at me apologetically. "I am truly sorry," he said. "I had forgotten that your godhead is not yet upon you and that you still tire like a mortal. Yet, time is our enemy right now. If O'onerut returns to find us here, he will learn of everything that has happened within moments. Your chance of escape will plummet and I will be killed."
I took a couple more gasps of air. "O'onerut," I wheezed. The door slid open. In the center of the room was a nest of cushions and pillows. Lining the walls, however, were hundreds of random assorted items. I had no idea what they were until Min gasped and let out a small fit of sobbing. He was standing by a white feathered headdress and cape.
Isis.
"I'm sorry, Min," I said. "Maybe we should leave."
"No," he said. "We have work to do and a very short time to accomplish our task."
I turned and saw a cage with a pair of ravens in it. "Odin is dead," I said.
"May he enjoy Valhalla," Min replied, looking at the ravens. "And may Thor be good company to him." He placed his hand on the haft of Mjollnir, Thor`s hammer.
There was also Artemis' bow and a wheel from Apollo's chariot. "May Tartarus greet you warmly and with the open arms of loved ones, my cousins," I said to them.
After a few moments of silence and no few tears, Min and I began looking for clues to O'onerut's past. "There's nothing here," I said. "It's just a bed and trophies."
"I beg to differ," said a deep man's voice to my right. I turned to see a face in a mirror that wasn't my own. He was older, with keen blue eyes and a long white beard.
"Which pantheon are you from?" I asked.
"O'onerut's own," the man said. "I am K'lemut, O'onerut's father. I assume you wish to destroy him. Perhaps you will have better luck than the others."
"The others?" I asked. "How many were there? How did they do?"
"How do you think they did?" Min said sarcastically.
"Just so, Vaneel," K'lemut said. "Only a few of my son's conquests ever made it this far. He seems to be softening his rules for you, Stef."
"Stefan, please," I said. "It's bad enough that O'onerut calls me Stef. This is Min."
"Understood," K'lemut said. "I have no ill will toward you, and I know what will become of my son. He will either perish by the hands of another god, or he will destroy them all and fade away from loneliness. There is no way to reach his rational mind any more. He must be put down."
"You do understand," Min agreed. "I am still sorry that your son must be destroyed."
"As am I," K'lemut said. "Please, before you do, allow me to show you a story in the mirror. I would like our kind to not be forgotten."
"We only have until O'onerut returns," Min told him. "Then my life is forfeit."
"It will not take long," he said. "Please step closer so you can see the story." We both approached and K'lemut's face faded out to show a rocky cave on top of a mountain. On it, gazing into a raised pool of water, was a lithe man. His face was a little too pretty for him to look very masculine, but it had a mischievous glint. He was smiling as he watched a scene. "This is a story about my sons," K'lemut said, "O'onerut and V'trelut."
"That must be V'trelut," I said.
"Please, pay attention to the events, for they may help you," K'lemut said, pausing the story.
"Our apologies, K'lemut," Min said. "Please continue."
The story began again and the young god started to giggle. It was higher pitched than most men, which fit in with his feminine visage. The wind picked up a bit and whistled through the mountaintops, mixing with the sounds V'trelut was making. The combination was almost like chimes.
Suddenly, his face went pale and his eyes became wide as he stood transfixed. "No," he breathed. "Anyone but him." Then he gasped and started to run. A lightning bolt hit the side of the mountain and a shower of rocks stopped him. Another lightning bolt hit the middle of the outcropping. Where it had flashed, O'onerut stood. Only, he carried himself differently. In this vision, he was confident and strong, not arrogant and cruel.
He held a silver ball in his hand. "This is yours, is it not?" he asked. V'trelut didn't move. "Answer me!" O'onerut commanded. The other god nodded quickly. "Do you have any idea how much trouble this teleportation sphere you gave to that human tribe caused? Half of them are now dead, and the other half are on the verge of civil war with each other. All of this because you thought it would be funny to give them a special power that could be traded between them."
"But O'onerut, did you not see them? They wished to be closer to the stars so they could talk to the Gods." V'trelut said, obviously hoping his brother would see the humor. "I gave them their wish. They talked to a god, then got closer to the stars."
"And then exploded in space," O'onerut said. "Where you then brought the ball back to some other poor human. We are merciful gods, brother. We care for the humans. We do not destroy them, especially not for whimsy."
"But they were so funny when they popped," V'trelut claimed, his voice becoming a whine.
Ooneruts face became red. "I will not have you disgrace me or our father like this, brother!" He threw the silver ball at V'trelut, who caught it easily. "Destroy it, brother, and never make another one. Then we can speak of your true punishment. Perhaps I shall eliminate that shepherd boy you fancy so. Mayhap that will show you the value of all human life."
"No, brother!" V'trelut wailed. "I will destroy the ball, as you say. Please, spare the boy."
O'onerut`s expression hardened. "You do care about some humans, then. Very well, this punishment will mean more to you than any in the past. I hope that you learn from it this time." O'onerut began to fade.
V'trelut cried out and fell to his knees, but his brother vanished. Looking up, V'trelut's face broke into a grin. Gripping the silver ball, he vanished swiftly and a swirl of twinkling lights flew down the mountain at a high speed. It landed on a grassy meadow, where a beautiful boy tended his flock. "Hide," V'trelut hissed when he materialized. The boy jumped to the ground and pulled a blanket over himself, which V'trelut bespelled to look like grass. Then he made himself look like the shepherd boy, picking up the boy's crook. He also created a slim golden hoop nearly two feet across, which he held in his other hand.
O'onerut appeared. "I am sorry, Shepherd boy," O'onerut said, "but I must teach my brother a lesson about respecting the order of things. You are to be that lesson. My you fare well in the afterlife." He raised his right hand, palm facing the boy, fingers splayed upward. "Obliterate."
The beam shot from his hand, but V'trelut stood his ground. Lifting the ring, the beam went through the center and hit V'trelut in the center of the chest. He didn't disintegrate. Instead the beam entered him and was absorbed into his body. "What is this?" O'onerut asked. "Why can I not stop the beam? What are you doing to me?"
"My dear brother," V'trelut said, changing back to his true form while still drinking his brother's power through the ring. "You sought to teach me a lesson, but it is I who teach you. You are learning that you can punish me a thousand times over, but if you try to hurt me, I fight back, and I win."
O'onerut sunk to his knees. "You did not fight me honestly," he said. "You cheated. You will not get away with this."
V'trelut laughed. "It amuses me that you think I would ever be so stupid as to fight you fairly. You are fading as we speak, bother," he said. "I will get away with this, for when you are gone, I will have your power. I will be the strongest god, and I will collect more powers to add to my own. Goodbye brother."
"As you may have guessed," K'lemut said, his face returning to the mirror, "V'trelut took not only the power, but the identity of O'onerut. In doing so, he destroyed several of our gods, beginning with our god of insight, then our warrior gods. He was no fool. He knew that the mind reading power would keep him from getting hit long enough to steal the power to fight effectively.
"One day, he left the ring behind so he could visit his shepherd boy. It was easy to destroy. It snapped in half quickly and crumbled to dust. Unfortunately, he retained his stolen powers. When he learned that he could steal no more, he rampaged, killing nearly all of the pantheon in rapid succession. I knew I had little time to live, so I imprisoned myself. When he came upon me and found me like this, he laughed. He told me it was fitting for me to be his prisoner for the rest of eternity. He ruled for a thousand years before deciding to conquer the rest of the universe. Now, here we are."
"What of the Vaneel," Min said. "Where do they come from?"
"There two other planets in a neighboring solar system to ours," K'lemut said. "On one, insects breed that can invade a man's mind. Once connected to a human, they become docile and controllable, but the bodies deteriorate quickly. On the other planet, pools bubble with the yellow substance that eats all skin, man's and god's. O'onerut learned the latter part of that the hard way. He plunged his arm deep into the substance and it devoured the skin."
"But he has both of his hands," I said. "Is he using illusion?"
"In his travels, O'onerut came across a pantheon that had a healer goddess. She had the form of a massive tree in a deep forest. This goddess had every aspect of herself tied into healing, to the point where she could not see or move from where she had been rooted. She had no other powers except for healing, but, because of this, she was also the best I have ever come across. She performed the long and painful process of leeching the Vaneel skin from O'onerut's arm and restoring it to normal. I could hear him screaming from the ship, but there was nothing I could do."
"Where is this healer?" Min asked, a mixture of desperation and hope in his voice.
"By that point, I was locked in this room permanently," K'lemut said. "I am sorry, but I do not know. I do know O'onerut let her live, just for the insurance against accidentally touching the Vaneel liquid again."
"I see," Min said, crestfallen. "Perhaps you could help us in another way.
Do you know how we might get off of this ship?"
"Lift up the wing of Isis," K'lemut instructed. "What you seek lies beneath."
Min hesitated. "Let me, Min," I said. "She was your family. I'm not emotionally attached." He nodded in thanks. I traversed the room and lifted the wing. Beneath was a silver ball. "That'll work," I said. "I thought this was a room for O'onerut's trophies. Or should I be calling him V'trelut?"
"He will become quite angry if you call him that," K'lemut said. "As for the ball, it is his first trophy. It is a symbol of his first kill. He would have preferred the hoop, but since it is gone, the ball must suffice."
"That hoop would make it easy to defeat O'onerut," I said. "You wouldn't happen to have another one lying around, would you?"
K'lemut laughed. "No, young one. That would be foolish. You amuse me, however. You remind me of the shepherd boy O'onerut was smitten with. It is no surprise he was drawn to you."
"Yeah, well, I'm not drawn to him," I replied. "In fact, I'd rather not see him again."
"I fear you will not get your wish," Min said. "Chances are you will either be a part of his defeat, or you will be captured again."
"I have an idea," K'lemut said. "Min, take me with you. If you would work with me, I may have a way to bring O'onerut down. He cannot read either of our minds, so we can work in secret."
Min removed the mirror from the wall and held it in his left hand, holding the ball in his right. I placed my right hand on the top of the ball, and my left held Min's wrist. I wasn't sure if I was doing things right, but I soon noticed I was standing in a desert.
"The Nile," Min said, his voice soft and filled with joy. I turned and saw the giant river behind me. "I never thought I would see my ancestral home again." I could see tears in his eyes as he dropped to his knees. He ran his leathery yellow hands through the sand. Shaking his head, he stood up. "This is my home, but these are not my hands. I will not return here until I am whole again." He placed the ball in my hand and picked up the mirror once again. His free hand gripped my wrist, just as I had gripped his. "Think of your home," he said. "Wish yourself there, and there you will be."
I closed my eyes and wished for home.
Author's note: Woo Hoo! Beat the deadline. It is Saturday, November 4th as I write this note. 4 days ahead of schedule! Thank you to everyone who responded with escape suggestions. The escape was a conglomeration of a number of them, with a bit of my own devising thrown in.
I have had a number of people requesting that I make Stef use his power on himself and go gay. You have to think, however, of how many American straight boys would actually choose to turn themselves gay permanently if given the choice. Odds are pretty low, right? So what would it take, do you think, to make a guy choose to switch?
Think about it.
Next personal deadline: Wed., Nov. 15, 2006
As always, you can send me feedback at academygm@hotmail.com .