Divine Assistance

by L. G. Estrella

  Ruin wasn’t as busy as some of the other gods. For example, Bureaucracy was always doing something although he wasn’t sure how necessary all of her paperwork really was. Then again, it wasn’t like he had to coordinate the actions of hundreds of gods and their subordinates. It was entirely possible that even the Supreme Mother and Supreme Father wouldn’t have been able to handle such a ridiculous bureaucratic workload.

  Likewise, Torment was usually busy since there were always foolish, evil mortals in need of proper punishment in the afterlife. But Ruin was more like a battering ram. He was very good at what he did, but what he did was fairly specialised. He was only called upon when something fairly large or important needed to be destroyed. For the most part, he was content to spend his free time fighting off the Void Born and wandering the mortal world. True, the mortal world hadn’t been very interesting at the start, but mortals were an ingenious and industrious lot. They’d come up with countless things over the years that had piqued his interest.

  Mortals lacked the divine energies that the gods wielded, and those energies allowed the gods to do things that would otherwise have been impossible. Yet mortals had talents of their own. They lived short, transient lives, which meant they were always hustling and bustling, dabbling in this or that art or working on this or that craft. Ruin liked to walk amongst them in mortal guise and watch them go about their business. Every now and then, as dictated by his duties, he unleashed a natural disaster to keep them on their toes, but he tried not to hit any one place too much or to destroy things too completely. More than once, he’d found himself feeling sorry for them. As interesting as they were, mortals were extremely frail and easily harmed. A god could shrug off a hurricane or a flood, but mortals were likely to be swept away or drowned.

  Yet, in another one of their many contradictions, mortals had developed an appreciation for what he did. There were countless paintings, stories, and other works of art about the devastation he had wreaked over the years, and it was strangely gratifying to be appreciated since not all of his divine peers were so free with their praise. He could scarcely imagine how Death felt. Even most of the other gods were terrified of him despite Death being one of the most reasonable gods around, and arguably the most affable of the Greater Gods.

  Given all of the time Ruin spent around mortals, it was not all that surprising that he would occasionally find himself drawn to mortal women. Now, goddesses were definitely more beautiful from a purely aesthetic point of view, yet mortal women possessed their own allure. Perhaps it was because he didn’t have to worry about angry gods running after him with divine weaponry – mortal fathers and brothers could be overprotective, but their divine counterparts were far worse. He pitied whoever tried to court Young Death when she grew older. Death would murder them.

  There were also strict rules about gods creating divine offspring with other gods, but the rules were somewhat looser when it came to siring demigods. Other than certain attributes – for example, greater strength and endurance – demigods were fairly similar to regular mortals. Their lifespans were comparable to mortals, so the gods didn’t have to worry about them becoming too numerous. And, to be honest, Ruin quite liked having children.

  More than most gods, Ruin took an active role in the lives of his children. Admittedly, it pained him terribly when they died, but that wasn’t something he could change. They were demigods, and their souls followed the mortal path rather than the path of the gods. Some of them – many of them – became mighty heroes, figures of legend whose stories endured for centuries or even longer. Others became humble craftsman or cunning merchants. One of them had even made a living as a cobbler. Whatever they chose to be, they were still his children, and he loved each and every one of them. It was fortunate that Torment was one of Death’s subordinates. On more than one occasion, his brother had helped organise a trip to the afterlife, so Ruin could keep his children company while they waited to be reborn.

  He wasn’t the only god to have demigod children. There were usually around a hundred demigods in the mortal world at any moment in time, but few were mightier than his offspring. The Greater Gods – the first children of the Supreme Mother and Supreme Father – rarely took mortal lovers, and they sired demigod children even more rarely. Ruin wasn’t entirely sure why that was, but it was possible that their divine energies were simply too vast to be compatible with mortals. Ruin himself had to be careful lest his powers hurt his mortal lovers. He could barely imagine how difficult it would be for someone like Annihilation whose mere presence could turn entire mountain ranges into dust.

  At the moment, Ruin found himself in something of a quandary. Once again, he found himself drawn to a mortal woman, but he had not had much luck in wooing her. It was unthinkable. He, a god, was unable to win a mortal’s heart? Impossible. Yet it was happening, and simply thinking about his recent failures was enough to make him scowl. It was pathetic. No, that wasn’t right. He was pathetic.

  * * *

  Ruin had first noticed the mortal as she bathed in a secluded part of the river. However, it wasn’t her lack of clothing that had drawn his attention. No, it had been the hilariously off-key nature of her singing that had drawn him to her. He’d decided to investigate because she’d honestly sounded like she was being murdered. Even that obnoxious raccoon that one of his friend’s daughters had been saddled with was a better singer.

  In retrospect, appearing before her in a blaze of divine glory had not been the greatest idea in the world. In his defence, appearing in a blaze of divine glory would definitely have put an end to any attempted murder, which was what her singing most closely resembled. Alas, women – both mortal and divine – tended to object to being interrupted while they were bathing, especially by strangers, and especially by strangers who appeared amidst cracks of thunder and bursts of flame and ash. If he could go back in time, he would have waited for her to finish bathing before making a more reserved appearance. Unfortunately, it was always easier to be wise in hindsight than in the present.

  “Ah!” the mortal woman had screamed, and Ruin had gotten a quick glimpse of her appealing figure before he’d caught sight of the deep scowl upon her regal features. She’d glared straight at him, magnificent in her fury. “You pervert!”

  And then she’d plucked a nearby stone from the river and hurled it at him with all her might. He’d been so surprised by the size of the stone – and the fact that she’d lifted it with only one hand despite being a tad over five feet tall – that he hadn’t even dodged. The stone had hit him, cracked, and then fallen into the river. His mouth had opened and closed for a second as the woman grabbed another stone – an even bigger one – before he’d beat a hasty retreat, wondering how everything could have gone so horribly wrong.

  After that debacle, he had decided that it might be safer to watch her from afar for a while. To do that, he had borrowed one of the reflecting pools that Wisdom and Knowledge had made. It was said to be amongst the most powerful of its kind, capable of piercing even the illusions woven by another god. Naturally, no mortal device or barrier could obstruct its vision, and it could see through solid stone or wood without any trouble. He could have used his own divine powers to observe the mortal woman. However, he’d never been very subtle, and he wanted to avoid detection.

  “I thought you needed to use it for something important,” Wisdom grumbled. Despite her diminutive size – she was even shorter than the mortal Ruin was observing – the hammer in her hands was no joke. It had been forged out of the remains of a cluster of exploding stars and imbued with the energies of one of the great storms that ravaged the far corners of Creation. It was thus capable of channelling a stupidly huge amount of divine lightning. Even Ruin would have to dodge if Wisdom pointed it his way. “All you’re doing is spying on some mortal woman.” She sneered. “Are you some kind of pervert?”

  “This is serious.” Ruin glanced at Knowledge. The other god towered over both Ruin and Wisdom. “Some support would be nice.”<
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  The brawny god looked between his irate sister, Ruin, and the mortal woman in the reflecting pool. She appeared to be sorting through some scrolls and books in a vast library. “I have no idea why you want to spy on a librarian. I have to agree with my sister, Ruin. We built these reflecting pools to ensure that the Void Born would never be able to catch us by surprise. Instead, the rest of you keep using them to spy on each other and various mortals.” He paused. “And cute animals. You’d be amazed by how much time Day spends looking at kittens and puppies. I had to check the numbers twice before I believed it.”

  “Well, that’s not too bad. Looking at kittens and puppies is harmless, and Life basically made them to be cute. What you’re doing, Ruin, is weird.” Wisdom huffed. “And I don’t see what the big deal is.” She gestured at the image of the mortal woman. “She isn’t much to look at.”

  “Perhaps compared to a goddess, but most mortals would consider her to be quite lovely,” Knowledge replied. He looked back at Ruin. “You never did tell us why you wanted to spy on her. Explain.”

  Despite their occasionally – or frequently – odd behaviour, both Wisdom and Knowledge were Greater Gods. Admittedly, they lacked Death’s fearsome might or Annihilation’s reputation, but their power was far, far, far beyond his.

  He explained.

  “So,” he said, once he’d finished explaining. “Things didn’t go very well the first time. I would like to approach her again but in a more suitable manner.”

  Wisdom hit him with her hammer. He thudded into the floor hard enough for his head to make a crater in it. Groaning, he dragged himself back to his feet. That was yet another reminder that for gods, appearances could be deceiving. The more powerful a god was, the more control they had over their appearance. Despite her diminutive stature, Wisdom was much stronger than he was.

  “How about you approach her when she’s not bathing, you dunce.”

  Knowledge shook his head and sighed. “I wouldn’t say I’m a ladies man, Ruin, but even I know better. Love would smite you if she was here.”

  “Oh, be quiet.” Ruin did his best to regather his tattered dignity as he picked shards of the stone floor out of his hair. “She seems comfortable enough now, and she is at work. This seems like a perfect time to visit her.”

  Alas, Ruin had not set foot in a mortal library for some time now. The libraries of the gods were maintained by Bureaucracy, Muse, Wisdom, and Knowledge, and they were built to be largely impervious to the powers wielded by the gods. The divine energy released during teleportation would not have damaged a divine library at all, which was why Ruin hadn’t developed a habit of restraining his powers when he teleported into libraries. The same, unfortunately, could not be said of a mortal library. Ruin appeared in a flash of smoke, fire, and ash – right in the middle of a library full of highly flammable books and scrolls. It was a recipe for disaster.

  And disaster was exactly what he got.

  “Greetings, mortal woman.” Ruin blinked as the mortal screeched and ran out of the library while screaming something about a fire.

  “Fire?” Ruin turned around. “Oh. Fire.”

  In his haste to arrive, he had inadvertently set part of the library on fire. Oops.

  “Damn it.” He seized control of the flames and snuffed them out before they could do any further damage. Unfortunately, some critical damage had already been done. The mortal woman was likely to be even more terrified of him than before. To make things even more depressing, he hadn’t even learned her name yet. Oh, he could have reached into her mind, but that wouldn’t have helped build her trust in him at all.

  Hmm. It might be time to pay Love a visit.

  * * *

  Love’s realm was not somewhere Ruin felt comfortable. For one, there was an overabundance of cute and cuddly things. Whether it was adorable kittens, loveable puppies, or friendly penguins and hedgehogs, Love had lots of them. It made him nervous. These creatures were definitely mortal, so stepping on one of them by accident was not something he could afford to do. If he did that, his odds of getting help instead of being mercilessly teased went from slim to zero.

  Worse still were Love’s attendants. These spirits and lesser gods served the Greater Goddess and carried out her orders. At the moment, however, they were all clustered about him in curiosity since he was not, by any stretch of the imagination, a frequent visitor to her realm. Some gods might have been pleased. Love’s female servants were incredibly lovely, but Ruin wasn’t in the mood for such attention. He also didn’t appreciate being surrounded – his warrior’s instincts despised it – nor did he appreciate being stared at so hungrily.

  He moved past them after stating his purpose and made his way into Love’s inner sanctum. The goddess was enjoying a bath, so he was prepared to wait until she’d finished. However, her attendants giggled mischievously and half-dragged, half-carried him along until he found himself beside an ornate and elegantly crafted bath that was filled with hot water and strategically placed bubbles that both concealed and revealed Love’s form in truly tempting fashion. As a god of destruction, he was not easily swayed by beauty, yet even he had to admit that Love was beautiful beyond words. Yet the teasing smirk on her lips gave him pause. Oh, she was the goddess of love – as well as all other emotions – but she and Mischief were best friends for a reason.

  “So,” Love drawled as she raised one perfect eyebrow and smiled with those lush, inviting lips of hers. “What brings you to my realm, Ruin?” She gave him a frank, admiring look. “Are you looking for ways to… occupy your time?”

  “I need your help.” Ruin steadfastly kept his gaze locked onto Love’s face, even as one long, shapely leg rose out of the water for one of her attendants to wash. He knew very well that Love took pleasure in getting a reaction out of people with her antics. Torment had once told him that she could have done his job perfectly well if she wanted to, so he was determined not to let her get any more of an upper hand than she already had. Gods were powerful everywhere, but they were even stronger in their personal realms.

  “Oh, you’re no fun.” Love pouted and waited for her attendants to finish washing her before standing to let them rinse her clean. One of her attendants dried her and draped a robe over her. It was made of some divine fabric, immeasurably strong yet still light and breathable. “I do hope you’re not going to ask me to destroy anything. You know that isn’t what I do.”

  “That’s arguable,” Ruin replied seriously. He might have sunk an entire continent, but Love had toppled her fair share of empires over the years. It was amazing what mortals would do when they were driven by love or other emotions, and the same was even true for the gods. It was often whispered that Love was the most dangerous of the Greater Gods not only because of her powers but also because she was willing to use her powers in ways that someone like Death, who was tempered by the graveness and solemnity of his duties, was unlikely to.

  “Clever boy.” Love giggled. “Love and emotions in general are some of the mightiest forces in Creation. Love or hate can break down walls that would otherwise stand unbroken for a thousand years. Tell me, Ruin, why are you here?”

  “I need your assistance in wooing a mortal woman.” Ruin saw no need to be circumspect. If anything, trying a more subtle approach would put him at a considerable disadvantage since Love excelled in subtlety and intrigue far more than him.

  “Oh?”

  Love sat down on a chair and beckoned Ruin forward to sit on a chair opposite her. He sat, but he couldn’t get comfortable. The chair was made of divine material, so it could easily carry his weight, but it looked so flimsy. As usual, he was dressed in the black plate armour that he favoured. It looked similar to obsidian and smelled faintly of smoke and ash. Love, however, was wearing nothing except for that thin, flimsy robe, which once again hinted at and concealed her figure in equal measure. Her skin looked incredibly soft, and she smelled faintly of roses and something else very alluring that he couldn’t quite identify. One of her a
ttendants set a crown of flowers upon her head, and her eyes sparkled with mirth at his obvious discomfort.

  And then she changed.

  For a moment, Ruin saw the mortal he was interested in. He shook his head. Like all of the Greater Gods, Love could change her appearance easily. She often donned the guise of whomever she was speaking to desired. It put them on the defensive and allowed her to seize the initiative without making any overtly threatening moves. How cunning. Indeed, only a handful of the gods – the Supreme Mother and Supreme Father and perhaps some of the Greater Gods – knew what she truly looked like. Even the appearance she’d greeted him with was unlikely to be her true form. It was most likely a combination of whatever features had recently caught her fancy.

  “I see. Tell me more.”

  Ruin explained what had happened so far, and Love had the decency to keep a straight face for all of five seconds before bursting into laughter. Ruin’s eye twitched, and he fought the urge to level the area with his powers. It was so tempting to lash out, but he had to put up with Love’s antics if he wanted her help.

  “Oh, Ruin.” Love kicked his armoured shin, and he winced. “You can be such an adorable fool. The whole ‘behold my divine awesomeness and go to bed with me’ thing might work on some mortal women, but it’s hardly going to work on all of them.” She patted his knee and smiled fondly. “You remind me so much of Annihilation. Ah, the stories I could tell you about him.”