"Maruble."

His father braced the arms of his volcanic throne, planted on the highest step of the dais. Sitting there, he almost looked like a proper god. Almost. Little did he know, most of the gods at his parties didn't care for his great deeds or feats, but rather enjoyed consuming his free elixirs. Not to mention the food, most of which was carefully cooked over the lava itself. A delicacy.

"Father," greeted Maruble, grabbing another elixir as he approached. He could feel eyes on his back, every damned god at the party was watching them, but he didn't care. Since learning that more gods rallied for the old ways than he originally thought, it was like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. "I see you've finally returned to Atla. Mother tells me that your efforts with the humans have been successful."

At the mention of Athema, Theon's eye twitched, but he kept his composure. Likely due to more gods glancing in their direction. Even the airy botanical gods had paused their fluttering to watch the conversation, hoping they would witness some sort of drama. Theon stroked his beard, searching his son for sarcasm, he said, "What you hear is correct, my son. The volcano has been soothed and the humans are safe."

It was strange. For a man so interested in volcanoes, his father had never shown the same interest in fire and had never asked him a single question about it. Never talked about it in the same way. The two were closely bound together, like branches of the same tree. And yet, he could not shake the feeling that Theon considered flame to be weak. The God of Volcanics, noting the silence, continued, "It was a tedious journey, but I will rest well knowing that none will be in danger."

"Were they grateful?"

"Grateful?" His father raised an eyebrow. Maruble was reminded of a time when his father was much weaker, and he would return from these trips downtrodden. The god would sulk in his mountain for days, meditating or kicking the volcanic rock while shouting expletives into the sky. The God of Fire had been worried his father would get himself killed, much like their uncle did long before he was born.

"The humans," Maruble said with a smirk. "You've done them such a great service but it seems you gained nothing in return, except bloating your ego even further."

All those years of not saying anything, of waltzing around his father's parties and his mother's temple, being the good son. No, the complacent son. He raised his chin higher. Too long had he lived in the shadow of his parents' beliefs, making ripples but never waves, too afraid of the consequences. Well, consequences be damned. There were others out there like him and he knew it, just like he knew Death watched their conversation from a dark corner of the volcano.

His father growled in warning, "Say your next words carefully, boy."

"Do you consider yourself a god?" Maruble spoke louder this time, even as Theon's eyes darted around to the party-goers watching them. His hands clutched his throne. Perhaps trying to stop himself from erupting the volcano and burning them all to ash. "Or do you consider yourself a slave to the barelands?"

The room fell silent, save for a few gasps around the ballroom. Maruble quietly thanked the God of Death for his courage, something he had been lacking for a long time, and promised himself that he would do something with it. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hartley cross his arms. He ignored him. All of those high court bastards could burn for all he cared.

"Need I remind you, the Laws of Balance forbid gods from revealing themselves to humans." His father glanced at the God of Balance, and the old man nodded. "You know the rules. Don't make an idiot of yourself in front of my guests."

Idiot. His father spat out the word as if he had been holding it in for a long time. There it was: all this time, he had truly believed his ideals were foolish, a childish daydream. But he was wrong. The laws of this land were foolish, written by gods that should have faded long ego.

"Pity," said Maruble, blowing out a breath. "A pity that we must continue to pretend that humans are worth our protection, while they continue with their lives unaware. It's rare to find someone as selfless as you, Father." Maruble paused. "Or perhaps your antics with the volcano were an excuse to throw another party. Perhaps your great deeds aren't as noble as they may seem."

The room's temperature rose ten degrees. Heat pricked against his skin, but he didn't care. It didn't have the effect his father had hoped for-- no, the heat felt good. It was like his own flame was encouraging him.

Stolen novel; please report.

A few lesser gods flickered away, scared a fight would erupt between them. The more powerful ones moved closer. They were like animals, greedy for something new and interesting to happen to them, something they could talk about for weeks to come. His father stood, the tattoos on his shirtless chest seemed to move like lava. "You will not speak to me this way, Maruble."

Maruble gulped, his confidence waning for a brief second as his father loomed over him. The room grew hotter. Even with his affinity for flame, he was beginning to sweat, his clothes wet and heavy against his skin. But he couldn't stop now-- now while he had everyone's attention. He stepped closer to Theon and said, "Are you even aware of it? The way you cater to humans while they have no regard or respect for you. I mean, surely you can't believe this is how any god with pride should act. They should fear us. Worship us." Maruble stood taller, breaking the glass of elixir in his hands. The gold liquid ran down his fingers. "Or would you rather keep hiding in your mountain like a rat?"

His father stared at him. For a moment, Maruble hoped his father had come to reason, but then he sighed heavily and sat back down. The crowd whispered around them. Theon spoke louder, for all of them to hear. "My apologies, everyone. It seems I have raised a spoiled brat." Maruble froze as he continued, "He has never known suffering, and so he rambles like a child." The God of Volcanics faced him now but without anger, which was somehow more infuriating. "If you have any dignity left, my son, then you will go."

It felt like his heart had been ripped from his chest. Suddenly, the air felt thick and hard to breathe. Maruble wanted to scream, but he didn't want to prove his father right, that he was a blubbering child with no control of his emotions.

And then he saw it.

For the briefest moment, the God of Volcanics let the most damning thing slip into his simmering stare: uncertainty. His father was afraid that his party guests would take Maruble's side instead of his. Maruble cleared his throat, if only to keep a smile from spreading across his face. The God of Fire bowed to his father and said, "As you wish, Father."

He turned and made his way through the crowd. Gods gaped at him, but he did not flinch away. Maruble raveled in their stares and whispers, felt it throughout his entire being: the promise of change. One day, even if it was many years from now, these people would believe him. They would follow him into a new world, one where the Court of Balance didn't have such a grasp on all of them.

"Don't come back until you've decided to grow up," Theon shouted to his back.

Suddenly, Maruble flickered. Not of his own volition.

He looked around. Of course, his father had flickered him to the most disrespectful place of all: The Sea. To look over the barelands where the humans continued to roam free and unaware.

Maruble kicked the dirt at his feet and screamed as loud as he could. The sound echoed in the empty valley. He screamed and screamed until his throat was raw then dropped to the ground, breathing hard. Anger pulsed through him, more real and alive than he had ever felt it, and fire itched at his fingertips.

It would be so easy to set the entirety of the barelands ablaze-- but it would also be pointless. It would do nothing but prove his father right. But the thought gave him an idea.

The grass was soft against his feet as he stood. Around him, darkness swept over the valley with only the shifting waters of The Sea to give him light. Maruble removed his cloak and the wind brushed his bare arms. Immediately, it felt as if a weight had been lifted. He did not need his mother, who spent her time catering to the powerless, and he did not need his father, who sacrificed his self-respect to keep humans safe. The two of them were so caught up in their own whims that they had lost the bigger picture.

It was clear to him now: if Maruble wanted change, he would have to do it himself.

Maruble looked around, but the overlook was empty. Below, deep in the barelands, humans slept soundly in their houses, tucked away in their warm beds. They were ungrateful. They only cared about themselves, and he hated them with his entire godly being.

He would show them fear. Show them the strength of the gods above them, make them cower in the light of their greatness.

Maruble moved his hand over The Sea. Fire ebbed in his hands like a wave. First, a small candle-like flicker and then the flame grew, uncoiling from his fingertips. He scanned the Earth's horizon until he found just the thing he was looking for: a mountain. It was beautiful, full of life and vegetation, where flowers bloomed and small animals roamed about. His anger built inside of him. The god thought of his mother, his father, the whispering party-goers. Every thought sent his body trembling with anger.

Maruble took a deep breath and set the mountain ablaze.

The heat roared instantly, devouring trees and licking the rocks. Fire scattered from the top of the mountain and chewed its way to the bottom. There were houses in its path and, when the shouting began, it was like music to his ears. The sound of humans fearing the gods. Maruble opened his arms and let the heat of the flame fill him. One day, they would bow down to this power. One day soon. He watched the burning mountain for a long time, grinning as it consumed miles and miles of forest.

The ground beneath him rumbled. He tensed.

Far in the distance, his father's volcano shot lava into the sky in a frenzy. For the briefest moment, Maruble wondered if he had acted out of carelessness, but he shook the thought. It was too late now. Whatever came next, he would be ready for it, and he would welcome those who believed in his ideals with open arms.

And they would change the world.