“Well now that was entertaining,” sneered Kiva as he stretched on his perch after having leaned forward for some time, enthralled in the battle blaring across his screen.
Kiva had been watching with great interest as the human known as Barry had clashed with the orc Peltra and his group of followers. The battle hadn’t gathered as much interest from the other gods as he had expected, usually a clash of two high ranking initiates would garner at least a bit of attention. However, after asking around it seemed most had assumed the orcs vastly greater numbers would have provided him an easy victory. How wrong they were. Kiva chuckled to himself; the other gods had missed out on one of the better tactical fights he had seen so far this training grounds. It was quite amazing how many times this human had managed to scrape through such tough battles by the skin of his teeth. The man’s unusual methods and abilities kept Kiva thoroughly entertained.
Walus’s stony form creaked and grinded as he too returned from a forward lean into his usual upright seated position.
“Not a bad fight was it big guy?” Kiva said as he jabbed at the playfully elbowed the large god’s side.
Walus barely registered the jab, but he did respond with an agreeable “Yes.”
Satisfied, Kiva stood and shuffled along a few rows of seats at the same level as his own. There he squeezed himself between a broad-shouldered minotaur and a small elf like deity. Turning to the minotaur Kiva allowed a devilish smirk to spread across his face as he spoke.
“I believe you owe me some credits Atlas.”
The minotaur was larger than Kiva by a fair margin, but nothing compared to Walus. The god had the traditional top half of a bull and the bottom half of a human. His fur was dark, bordering somewhere between black and brown. He had sharp features, burning yellow eyes, a strong chin, and two large horns that protruded horizontally from his head before shooting upwards into a point. He had a large gold ring protruding from his nose and many smaller rings lined down the side of his ear. His frame was solid, his muscles bulging, and his arms crossed in an unimpressed posture.
Snorting in disagreement Atlas, high god of force, retorted Kiva’s statement with a snort, “I think not.”
“Oh, I think so,” Kiva pressed as the anxious elf god got up and left them to their quarrel. “Are you going back on your word Atlas? You know as well as I that we made a bet on that battle. I thought a god’s words are meant to be sacred,” Kiva added, clearly trying to agitate the god.
Growing more irritated by the second Atlas finally turned to face Kiva with his fists clenched.
“The bet was whether the orc or the human would come out of the battle victorious, and since neither of them perished, there was no victor, so the bet is void,” Atlas growled.
Kiva’s sneer widened into a cheshire grin, fully revealing his orcish tusks and smaller, sharper teeth.
“Oh Atlas, I truly am sorry to break it to you but that was not the bet. You bet that the human would not survive the encounter, and I bet that he would. And as the human still breathes, you owe me my credits,” grinned Kiva with an intense look. “
Go tell your lies to someone who cares blood-orc, I have better things to do than to argue with an idiot. Now leave me be before I get angry,” Atlas grumbled as his aggressive aura vibrated the air around the pair, catching the attention of many of the surrounding gods.
This got Kiva’s blood boiling, and he too released his own aura to match the minotaur’s as the pair glared at each other with a palpable intensity.
“Alright, alright, can we please stop all this dick swinging it’s distracting us all from the show,” bellowed Falco, ruling god of pressure.
With his words the auras of both Kiva and Atlas were forcefully and immediately suppressed, and most eyes in the grand viewing hall had moved from the screen to the pair of quarrelling gods. It was rare for a ruling god to speak up in this sort of situation, let alone unveil their aura. Immediately, the two high-gods retracted their auras and sat upright like children in class.
“Atlas, pay the man his credits, we all know you made the bet,” Falco said, as Kiva smirked in triumph. “And Kiva, go back to you seat and stop causing trouble. The viewing hall is no place for conflict, if you want to fight then go someplace else,” he added, causing Kiva to deflate a little.
Kiva hated being treated like an infant, he was a god after al! And yet it mattered not. He could not compete with someone like Falco. In fact at his current power, he would likely be crushed in an instant if Falco chose to attack him. As soon as Atlas sent across the owed credits, Kiva slumped back to his usual spot, embarrassed about the interaction, but still pleased with his profits.
Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.
“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” buzzed Selta as she fluttered towards Kiva.
“What do you mean, he’s the one who wouldn’t pay up!” Complained Kiva as he glanced at the greater god.
“Typical men and their dumb pride,” she muttered with a sigh. “There were better ways of dealing with that situation and you know it. You intentionally annoyed Atlas. He is a dangerous god to be on the wrong side of. He’s already ended the lives of two other high gods this century you know! Why must you always seek out confrontation at every turn?” quizzed Selta with a frown.
Sniggering to himself Kiva replied with a sarcastic tone, “Well I am the god of duelling after all, it’s in my nature.”
Slapping her face in frustration Selta grumbled in reply, “You know that’s not how it works dumbass. Ugh, why do I even bother.”
Turning her attention to Walus and ignoring Kiva’s annoying sneer she asked, “And how are you doing Walus?”
The colossal form of the fortress god swung around slightly in his seat before replying “Good,” and turning his attention back to the training grounds screen.
Sighing, Selta sat down between the two idiots and resigned herself to the fact that even when it came to gods, men would always act like children.
The three gods stared at their individual viewing screens for some time before Kiva broke the silence.
“There are only a few hours left to put your names forward to interact with a particular initiate, have either of you decided to participate in the initiation of this new galaxy as more than just an observer?” asked Kiva.
The pair took their time to reply, and surprisingly Walus was the first to answer.
“Yes,” he boomed.
Taken aback by the fortress gods honesty Kiva eyed him curiously.
“Oh, and who have you decided on?” pressed Kiva, “Perhaps the human with your gloves?”
“No,” declared Walus, which surprised Kiva, he thought for sure the tanky behemoth would be most interested in the man, hell they’d both been watching his progress from the very beginning.
“That’s surprising,” admitted Kiva. “Why not? I thought he would be the obvious choice for you?” he continued.
Walus tilted his massive square head down at Kiva before providing his reasoning, “Wasted potential. Rank two better.”
Kiva was stunned silent for a moment before his eyes widened in shock.
“Did I just hear things? Or did he just say five words in a row. Please tell me I’m not hearing things!” Kiva exclaimed whilst grasping Selta’s shoulders. “Centuries I’ve sat here and not been able to get him to utter more than one or two words! But that was damn near a full sentence. Praise the gods!”
Unimpressed, Selta slapped Kiva over the back, “How many times have I told you to stop saying things like that, it will never be funny,” she said before focusing on Walus. “I assume you mean rank two in vitality Walus. Why would you prioritise that initiate over the rank one when there is quite a difference in their levels and achievements so far? Do you see something that we don’t? It is a bit perplexing.”
Walus seemed to be growing annoyed of all the questioning as he squirmed in his seat, an odd sight for such a huge being. With a grunt he uttered his final two words to end his involvement in the conversation, “Pure vitality.”
With a shrug, Kiva and Selta looked at each other before Selta worked out what Walus has meant. Although the rank two in vitality was far behind the one known as Barry by over ten levels, the former had over ninety percent of his stat points invested solely in vitality, where as Barry had started to diversify his strengths.
“Clearly he values specialisation above overall strength,” thought Selta with a smile, “He truly is unique that Walus.”
Kiva clicked his fingers and a demon servant appeared within a couple of seconds. “Three glasses of our finest ales,” he requested.
Immediately the flapping demon disappeared and reappeared in a puff of wind with three large glasses of a frothy amber liquid. Kiva paid the surprised demon with more credits than were required, the god of duelling was not normally known for his generosity, and he passed a glass to both Walus and Selta. Walus eagerly reached for the glass.
“Oh no, none for me,” waved Selta, declining the offer. Kiva was having none of that as he forced the glass into her hands, “We are celebrating Walus reaching the level of a three-year-olds vocabulary,” he teased with a cheeky smirk.
This time both Walus and Selta shoved the god playfully.
“Cheers,” Kiva declared loudly.
Receiving a less enthusiastic cheers back from Selta, and a nod from Walus as the three gods enjoyed their first sip of the heavenly ale. Kiva’s smirk grew broad as he watched Walus awkwardly drink the liquid. The gods’ hands were too big to hold the glass properly, instead he resigned to an awkward pincer grip with his thumb and index finger. What made it even more unhandy was that Walus had a strangely small mouth for such a towering being, a feature that often went unnoticed, except when drinking or eating. And when combined with the pincer grip, Kiva found the sight thoroughly hilarious. Giggling into his own glass Kiva turned to Selta again.
“What about you oh mighty greater god, will you be interacting with an initiate this training grounds?” he teasingly asked.
“No, as per usual I prefer to stay out of it. If I help one initiate, then I am in turn hindering others. So in order to stay impartial I will continue to remain an observer only,” Selta replied.
“Ugh, still as boring as ever,” Kiva retorted, rolling his eyes sarcastically as he prepared to receive another slap from the feisty god.
“What about you Kiva? It has been quite a few training grounds since you have involved yourself, do you think this is the year that might change?” Selta quizzed, as even Walus looked on with interest, awaiting Kiva’s answer.
Kiva paused as he thought it through, he was still on the fence himself. In the past he had regularly been involved in the progress of the mortals whilst on their path. It was often enjoyable, and made him feel valued and important. Currently, he felt more like just one of many heads in the crowd. Albeit godly heads. But the problem was that a god’s involvement in the training grounds did not come freely. It was more of a gamble of sorts. If you involved yourself in the progress of an initiate and passed on some knowledge or wisdom, then you are effectively betting on that initiate. If they do well and make it through the challenges of the training grounds with good success, then you will be rewarded in kind with experience, energy and credits. Experience from mentorship can be the boost to a god’s power they so desperately need to push them forward in their own path and potentially help them advance to a higher level of godhood. But the opposite is also true, if your chosen initiate does poorly, then you will lose some of your hard-earned power which can weaken a god’s overall strength. And more often than not this is what had happened to Kiva. It may not be the sole reason he had been stuck as a high god for so long, but it certainly hadn’t helped.
The poor performance of a chosen initiate was not the only risk when a god puts them self out there in offering assistance. Sometimes an initiate will decline the help of the god, which results in the same negative outcomes on the gods side as if they had been accepted but the initiate had done poorly. Not to mention the added shame from a god being rejected by a mortal. Additionally, if another god chooses the same initiate, then the initiate must select which god to form a connection with. One cannot link themselves to more than one god after all, that would be sacrilege. These were the risks a god must weigh up when considering to interact with mortals, and what was currently rushing through Kiva’s mind. After some time, and some internal struggle Kiva looked up at the pair with a steely resolve.
“This is the year I make my return,” he declared with a cheeky smile.
Clapping her hands together rapidly in excitement Selta beamed in reply, “Yay, Kiva’s back! Who is the lucky initiate?”
Grinning Kiva glanced at the screen. “If Walus is going for the rank two in vitality, then I will one up him and go for the one, the one known as Barry. He has odd skills, unusual tactics, and seems to get through every challenge by the skin of his teeth... I think we might just get along,” stated Kiva with a glint in his eye.