Divine Assistance

by L. G. Estrella

  “Not a chance, shorty!” Knowledge replied, staying just out of his twin sister’s reach.

  Both gods had a similar look – they both had skin that seemed to be made of finely forged steel along with eyes of molten gold and hair like bronze with teeth like silver. Despite Wisdom being three minutes older – a fact she repeated at every possible opportunity – she was actually one of the smallest gods. She measured a mere five feet in height, and she was petite as well. In contrast, Knowledge was a brawny fellow who towered more than seven feet tall. Of course, physical appearance was largely meaningless for gods – especially Greater Gods – since their strength didn’t derive from their muscles, and they were more than capable of completely altering their physical appearance. Even so, it was still funny, not that Solos would ever say that to Wisdom. He enjoyed living too much.

  Watching two of the most intelligent gods in Creation squabble as the massive figure of Knowledge ducked and dodged the swings of his diminutive sister’s hammer, neither Solos nor Nocta could think of anything to say. The automaton beside them gave another exceedingly authentic sigh and then made a coughing sound.

  “Your visitors have arrived, my esteemed creators.” Solos’s brows furrowed. Was the automaton being… sarcastic? He’d never heard of an automaton that could do sarcasm. Then again, the automata he’d dealt with had been fairly rudimentary in nature. It made sense for Wisdom and Knowledge to have created far more advanced versions.

  Wisdom climbed off Knowledge’s shoulders. She’d managed to wrap both of her legs around his neck, and she’d been about to bash him over the head with her hammer, not that it would have done much to harm a Greater God like him.

  “Hi.” Wisdom waved her hammer.

  Knowledge waved too. “Hi.”

  “Um… are we interrupting?” Solos asked hesitantly.

  “Nah.” Wisdom tossed the hammer to the side. It flew over to a nearby shelf and landed perfectly in a spot that had been left for it. “So…”

  “You guys broke the sun, right?” Knowledge asked. “That’s what that button usually means when someone presses it.” He chuckled. “You’d be surprised by how often your father pressed that early on. He ended up wearing it out, and we had to replace it.”

  Solos gaped. His father had pressed that button before, and enough to wear it out? Surely, they were joking. “I… uh… yes, I think we did. It’s not…” He winced. “Could you maybe fix it before my father finds out?”

  The two Greater Gods laughed. “We’ll see what we can do.”

  Wisdom cackled. “And don’t think we were joking about your father. It took your father ages to learn how to use the sun properly.”

  * * *

  Solos and Nocta watched nervously as the twin gods studied the controls and looked around the chamber. The two of them were humming to themselves, and they nodded at each other briefly before reaching over and pressing two buttons. The alarms stopped, and the sun returned to normal.

  “There you go,” Wisdom said. “Problem solved. We thought it might have been more serious, but this was actually a piece of cake.” She laughed. “Imagine if you’d managed to activate the Ray of Ultimate Doom – you’d be in trouble then.”

  “Ray of Ultimate Doom…” Solos gulped. What kind of… who would build something like that and put it on the sun?

  “Just try not to fall on the controls next time.” Knowledge grinned and reached down to ruffle Solos’s hair. Normally, he would have complained, but he was simply glad to have their help. “See these two buttons? If you don’t know what else to do, press this button and then this button. That will restore everything to their default settings, which is what you usually want unless you’re trying to wipe out the mortal world or something.” He paused. “You weren’t trying to wipe out the mortal world, were you?”

  “No!”

  “Good. Besides, the Supreme Mother and Supreme Father promised Annihilation first crack at the mortal world if they ever feel like destroying it.”

  The rest of the day passed in relative peace, and both Solos and Nocta breathed a sigh of relief as they finally finished the cycle. It was time to hand the sun back to Day. But as they drew close to the place where Day would be meeting them, they saw that Day was already there waiting. There was a strange smile on his face.

  “So… son.” Day smiled sunnily. It was terrifying. “I heard some interesting things from my mortal followers about the sun behaving strangely today.”

  Solos smiled weakly. “Uh… oops?”

  The Pony

  Like many young girls, Young Death wanted a pony. However, Young Death wasn’t like most other young girls, which meant acquiring a pony had proven more troublesome than she’d expected. First of all, she wasn’t actually a young girl. She was a young goddess. Given how long gods lived – age wasn’t something they had to worry about – getting a normal pony was out of the question. The poor thing would grow old and die in what would feel like a blink of her divine eyes. Getting a pony, growing to like it, and then having it keel over and die in seemingly no time at all would not be pleasant. Using mortal ponies would mean going through an absolutely ridiculous number of the creatures throughout her divine life.

  Her second problem was that she was not merely a young goddess. She was an incredibly powerful young goddess. Not only was she the daughter of arguably the two most powerful of the Greater Gods but she also had yet to gain full control over her divine energies. As a result, she either terrified mortal creatures or went entirely unnoticed by them. This was because she could either clamp down on her powers or unleash them at full strength. Doing things halfway was currently beyond her. Oh, she would eventually learn to control her powers better, but her control was very much a work in progress. What she needed, therefore, was a pony that wouldn’t be terrified of her even after she unleashed her powers. This meant that a mortal pony was again totally out of the question unless she was willing to wait until she had better control over her powers, a process that could take years, even decades.

  Having wracked her mind for ideas and come up empty handed, Young Death decided to do the sensible thing. She would ask her father to get her a pony. He was Death, oldest and mightiest of the Greater Gods. If anyone could find her a suitable pony, her father could.

  Right?

  Maybe?

  Hopefully?

  * * *

  Death fought the urge to gawp at his daughter like some mortal halfwit. He also had to fight very hard to keep his jaw from dropping. Had he heard her correctly? His daughter wanted… a pony? Where had that come from?

  Wait.

  His brows furrowed. He’d noticed something similar to this while wandering amongst the mortals in the course of handling his duties. Ponies were quite popular amongst children. Along with cats and dogs, they had proven to be one of Life’s most popular creations. However, he could already see a host of problems with getting his daughter a normal pony.

  Yes, he couldn’t get her a normal pony. It simply wouldn’t do. He was about to tell her that he couldn’t get her a pony when he noticed the expression on her face. It was something only he could have seen since so much of his daughter’s face was hidden in the bottomless shadow of her cloak’s hood. She was pouting, and it was indescribably adorable. It made him want to pat her on the head or to ruffle her hair. She must have really wanted a pony. As her father, how could he disappoint such an adorable child? He would find her a pony, and if he couldn’t find one good enough, he’d have to ask Life to make her one.

  “Don’t worry,” Death said. “I will find you a pony.”

  His daughter threw her arms around him and gave a cry of delight before she summoned a door made of shadows and stepped through it. Despite her youth, she’d already been given duties of her own. Naturally, she wasn’t going about her duties unsupervised. She would be accompanied by some of his most trusted subordinates. She was powerful, but she was still so young.

  With his daughter no longer around, Death allowe
d himself to grimace. Where was he going to find a suitable pony? He could start by asking Life if she had something available. Getting her to create something new would be his final resort. He could still remember the last time he’d asked her to make something. She’d come up with some kind of nightmarish demon beast. Mortals called it the honey badger, a most unsuitable name for such a ferocious creature.

  He opened a door to Life’s realm and stepped through it. In an instant, he went from the gloom of his domain to the middle of a dense rainforest that was bustling with life. An irate monkey immediately prepared to accost him – apparently, he’d appeared too close to its tree – before it realised his identity. The animal gave an apologetic squeak and retreated up into the upper branches of the tree, which was almost a mile tall. High above him, his divine eyes were able to pick out the movement of countless exotic animals through the canopy and upper branches. Like most gods, Life had created guardians to watch over her realm and ward off intruders. These animals were most likely informing Life and her realm’s guardians of his arrival. His lips curved up into a small smile. As if she didn’t already know he was here – no one could enter her realm without her knowledge, least of all him. Other than the Supreme Mother and Supreme Father, she was the only being in all of Creation that he’d never been able to hide his presence from.

  Death’s gaze shifted to a towering shape that loomed in the distance. That was the guardian of this area – a gigantic beast of earth and wood that was almost the same size as a mountain. It wasn’t a threat to him. He was far too powerful and skilled. But most other gods would think twice before facing it, especially in the place it called home. Ruin had once earned Life’s displeasure, and the creature had responded to its creator’s aggravation by hurling several hills at the god. Those hills had hit with enough force to carve out massive craters in the earth, and Ruin had beat a hasty retreat before asking Death to mediate for him.

  Death maintained a swift but steady pace through the forest since it would have been rude to open another door or to teleport now that he was in Life’s realm. He moved toward her familiar presence and found her standing in a meadow filled with fragrant flowers unknown to the mortal world. Their petals were metallic silver, and they glittered in the warm sunshine. She appeared to be in the midst of creating another animal, her power leaving countless shimmering trails of emerald light in the air around her as she carefully sculpted the essence of her latest creation. He took a moment to savour the sight in front of him. He had always thought that Life was almost unbearably lovely.

  “Hello.” Life didn’t turn, but she did beckon him forward with one hand. “Do you know what I’m making, Death?”

  “No.” He had no problems tracking the flow of her divine energies, but discerning her purpose was beyond him. He was far better at snuffing out lives than he was at identifying new forms of life. “What is it?”

  “It’s something I think will keep you quite busy over the years.” Life turned and gave him a grin. Her eyes, shifting pools of colour that mirrored the colour and pattern of every flower in Creation, twinkled in amusement. “I call it… the mobra!”

  “The mobra?” Death raised one eyebrow. The grin on Life’s face had shifted into a devious smile that he found thoroughly worrying. He was sorely tempted to summon his scythe. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d been forced to deal with one of her creations going a bit wild although he would have to be careful to simply subdue it rather than kill it. “What exactly is a mobra?”

  “Hmm… how best to explain.” Life nodded thoughtfully before grinning again. “Well… it’s kind of like a mongoose except it has the fangs, venom, and general disposition of an angry cobra.”

  Death stared. Good grief. And people thought he was the evil one? He was just doing his job. Life was the one who went out of her way to make things like the mobra. Then again, that was how she was. She loved to create new forms of life, and she endeavoured to make them as interesting as possible. Sometimes, interesting meant cute and cuddly puppies and kittens. And sometimes, interesting meant vicious, hungry, and equipped with about fifteen different ways to kill other mortal creatures.

  The dreaded honey badger – also known as the Scourge of the West – was a perfect example of Life’s approach to creating new life. No one else would ever have given such a deadly beast such an innocuous name. She’d created it shortly after the wolverine, and everyone had assumed that it would be some cute, cuddly, happy-go-lucky critter to balance out the ball of furry death that was the wolverine. It would, most of the other gods had believed, be the cutest thing since the bunny rabbit.

  They were all wrong. Way wrong.

  The original honey badgers had been roughly the size of an elephant and vicious enough to give the wolverines a run for their money. Shortly after honey badgers had been released into the mortal world, mortals had sent so many prayers to the Supreme Mother and Supreme Father asking for aid that they’d ordered Life to make honey badgers smaller. Life had agreed, but honey badgers were still not animals that anyone wanted to mess with. It was like they knew that mortals were responsible for them getting smaller, and they were determined to get revenge whenever possible. There were still at least a dozen deaths related to honey badgers every week, and they were invariably bloody and gruesome.

  And the less Death thought about marsupials, the better. What was a platypus even supposed to be? It was like Life had stuck together half a dozen different animals and then called it a day. He expected that from Wisdom and Knowledge, but not from her. Likewise, the kangaroo didn’t make sense. Was running too hard? It had to hop everywhere like a gigantic rabbit that could punch and kick people. Oh well. Making new life was her role in Creation. It was best to leave it to her. It wasn’t like she told him how to do his job.

  “The… mobra sounds interesting.” Death decided to play it safe. Life did not always take kindly to criticism of her beloved creations. She’d recently spent an entire day arguing with Muse about the merits of the raccoon and why it was a truly legendary creature, one worthy of praise and epic poetry. She’d been aided by the representative of the raccoons who had yet to return Zephyra’s apple and most likely never would.

  Life chuckled and made one last gesture. There was a flash of viridian light, and the creature came to life. It did indeed look a lot like a mongoose, albeit slightly larger but more slender. It scrambled up onto her shoulder and nuzzled her cheek lovingly before rounding on Death and baring its fangs. Death was tempted to pat it on the head. It was surprisingly cute despite the deadly venom dripping from its exceedingly sharp fangs.

  “Not that I mind you visiting,” Life said. “But is this a social call or a business call?”

  “Social,” he replied. Death nearly shivered when Life moved to his side. The goddess wrapped her arms around him and pressed against him. He was reminded, once again, of how they had created their two children. He cleared his throat. “Ah, perhaps, I wasn’t clear enough. I’m here about our daughter.” He paused and took a quick look around, ignoring the icy look the mobra was giving him. “Where is our son?”

  “Has anything happened to her?” Life asked. Her eyes narrowed ominously until they were so vividly green that they would have put emeralds to shame. The grass at her feet stirred. With but a thought, it could lengthen and become sharper than divine steel. Anyone who harmed the people she viewed as important was going to die horribly and probably end up in the stomach of one of her creatures.

  “She’s fine,” Death said quickly. “But she wants a pony. You can see the problem, right?”

  Life relaxed. “Yes, I believe so.” She was very familiar with the limitations of ponies. She had created them, after all. “I could make something new for her…”

  Death shook his head, perhaps too quickly because Life’s eyes narrowed again. He decided to placate her. “I’d like to get her something that already exists. I don’t think she wants special treatment. She’s already had to do a lot of adjusting as she takes on
her first duties.”

  “Is that so? You could speak to some of the other gods and search their realms. But if you’re looking for something that won’t die from old age and won’t be terrified of her and her powers, one of the creatures from your realm might be better.”

  “You might be right.”

  “As for our son, he’s practicing over there.” Life pointed toward a mountain in the distance. It dwarfed anything in the mortal world, and it would have been completely impossible for a mortal to climb it. For a god, however, it was nothing special.

  “Practicing?”

  There was a flash of green light, and a massive carnivorous plant appeared on top of the mountain. It had to be several hundred yards tall.

  “Yes.” Life smiled proudly and reached up to pat the mobra on the back. “Practicing.”

  * * *

  Torment was enjoying breakfast as he listened to the screams of the newest batch of damned souls to earn his attention when Death arrived. It was a testament to his composure that he didn’t spill his bowl of cereal into the lake of molten lava that the damned souls were writhing in. Instead, he calmly got to his feet, swallowed a mouthful of cereal, and then turned to greet the older god with a formal bow. Death was technically his boss, so he liked to maintain a certain degree of formality while he was on the job. He was also still on thin ice after the whole destroying the wrong city thing. Oops. However, Death waved aside his bow and cut right to the heart of the matter.

  “Torment, I need your help.”

  “My help?” Torment wasn’t sure what someone like him could do to help Death, but it wasn’t like he could refuse. Plus, there was a chance that helping could get Death to stop throwing extra paperwork at him. “What can I do for you?”

  “I need you to help me find a pony.”

  “Huh?” Torment was too stunned to offer a more articulate response. Was this supposed to be a joke? It wouldn’t surprise him if those three miscreants – Mayhem, Mischief, and Rabble – were up to their usual hijinks. Wait. Oh. Right. The pony must be for Young Death. “Well… a regular pony wouldn’t be much help if it’s for your daughter. Have you asked Lady Life?”