All was darkness. And yet, in that darkness, Maruble felt like he was floating. His soul had been sucked clean from his body, he was sure of it, and the only thing left was a husk. An empty shell that had been swept out to sea, bobbing up and down.

There was nothing left. And so in that vast darkness, he remembered.

Theon showed him the inside of his volcano for the first time. It had still been a work in progress, craters filled with boiling lava left uncovered and dangerous, and so his father had held him close and didn't let go. Afraid he would tumble in and never return.

Mother telling stories to him at the foot of her throne. Tales from his ancestors. They had all achieved greatness in some way and Maruble listened carefully, swearing that he would have his own to tell when he was older.

They had all been so happy then. When did that change? When did their gentle words twist into shorter and shorter sentences, barely more than acknowledgment? He shivered in the darkness. It was so cold that even the flames in his blood did little to keep him warm.

Flames. His flames.

Maruble stretched out his arms and groaned, forcing his body to move. He could feel something-- a wooden surface. With all his strength, he rolled over on his back.

Suddenly, Maruble plummeted.

He crashed into a body of water, and Maruble tore his eyes open. Underwater, he was underwater. His arms and legs moved on their own, thrashing until he could pull his head above the water, he stretched out his legs as far as he could... and touched the ground. Throat stinging, he coughed and gasped for air until he could properly breathe again.

Maruble looked around wildly. The dock he rolled off of was old, barely more than a few boards nailed together, covered in moss and rot. It was those rotting boards that made him remember the truth: he was a human. They had turned him into a human. He tried to ignite his hands into flame but nothing happened.

"Take me back!" he shouted to the sky. Tears welled in his eyes. "Please, I'll do anything. Just take me back."

The clouds were silent in response. It was as if Alta did not exist here, and he was alone. No god deserved a punishment such as this. It was cruel and unfair. Without the assistance of his flame, he would not survive more than a week. Was that the true nature of his ruling? Had he been sent to die?

Maruble clenched his teeth. If he knew anything about the gods, they were watching him right now. Laughing. The thought angered him enough that he was able to compose himself long enough to take in his surroundings.

He had fallen into a large lake. But unlike most human bodies of water, this one was mostly deserted. It was surrounded by clumps of old trees that seemed to loom over him. A little way up from the dock, there was an old house sitting on a hill.

The water was not freezing, thankfully, but it still chilled him to the bone. Maruble shivered in his damp clothes and trudged out of the water. He longed for his roaring fireplace, his favorite chair nestled next to it, and a good book. Not one of his mother's books. No, perhaps a relaxing tale from a God of Storytelling. That would be ideal.

He moved up and up the hill until the dilapidated house looked down on him. It looked worse up close. There were two stories, but all the windows on the top floor were boarded up. Some of the wood has rotted but, as he got closer, he realized that it was not as bad as the dock. Liveable.

When Maruble reached the house, he stood there for a long time looking up at it. He pressed his foot experimentally on the wood. Surprisingly, it didn't give way. He put his whole weight on it and, when he didn't fall through the floor, he stepped forward and turned the knob.

Immediately, dust flew into his nose and he coughed. He stepped inside, ignoring the itching in his throat, and hit the light switch. The room lit up. Maruble stood in what looked like a large entryway that led to the mouth of a staircase. He took each step slowly, cringing each time the board creaked under his feet. There were even more bedrooms on this floor, at least three more. The entire house seemed unoccupied.

Maruble searched until he found the largest bedroom. It was barely more than a closet, but it would have to do. The windows were covered with old curtains that looked outdated by human standards but the chest of drawers, to his surprise, looked new. He rummaged through it. Seemingly, the gods had left him some presentable clothes for his time as a human. Thoughtful.

He changed out of his soaked clothes and into the human ones. Out of everything in the house, this was the only thing not coated in a thick layer of dust and grime. Maruble pulled on a pair of jeans, a white shirt, and an old jacket with a collar. Compared to his usual wardrobe, they were peasant clothes that felt thin and fragile. But seeing as his normal clothing was indisposed, it would have to do.

Human. The word drifted to him again. If they would take him back, he'd rather throw himself back into the lake than face another moment in these forsaken lands. But he had nothing if not his pride.

His stomach grumbled, interrupting his pride and his thoughts. He let his feet carry him back down the long set of stairs and into the kitchen. The cabinets were lined with cans of food and preservatives. In the fridge, there were frozen meals and fruit and vegetables. Anything a human could need. Even so, it would not last him forever.

Maruble grabbed a piece of bread and cheese and munched on it thoughtfully. It was strange. While gods ate in Alta, the food here tasted more... vital. Though he knew that humans needed food to eat, how their bodies reacted to it was strangely addicting. Almost comforting, despite his bad mood.

When he was properly satisfied, Maruble wandered from the kitchen and looked around. Yes, the house was large. Even abandoned, the architecture was beautiful. Part of him wondered if the high court placed it here just for him. He grabbed a sheet on a couch and ripped it off. Dust flew into the air and he blinked at it. If the gods had placed it here, then why on earth did it look so ancient?

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

After a bit more exploring, Maruble counted that the house had five rooms in total, not including the kitchen, dining room, and three bathrooms. The entire house had electricity and working water, thankfully. If you ignored the layer of dust, everything seemed in good shape. There were books, paintings, and strange musical instruments sitting here and there. He kneeled on the floor and sifted through the books, then stopped suddenly.

It was only yesterday he was home and in his bed. Only yesterday that he had attended his father's party. Strange. It felt so far away. He was completely useless now, just another human on the barelands, and even though he had hopes that the court would change their mind, he still felt utterly alone. Even the books felt small in his hand compared to the tomes he kept in his fortress. He let it clatter to the floor and turned to the window.

Had the mountain been worth it? The message? Even though he longed to say yes, longed to in his very soul, his chest ached for home already-- and it had not even been a day.

Maruble was tired, more tired than he had ever been in his life, but he would not sleep. He had seen how deeply humans slept when they entered the world of dreams. Thinking about it made his gut crawl. The labyrinth of the mind. What would be lurking in those depths when he finally closed his eyes?

Knock. Knock.

He jerked. The sound echoed through the empty house and Maruble tensed. A human? Perhaps this house was not abandoned as he thought. At first, he tried to ignore the knocking, but then it grew louder and more persistent. Maruble sighed and dragged himself to the door, pulling it open.

Death stood in his doorway. He no longer wore his normal clothing, but a mask of bone and horns. Even under the mask, Maruble could feel the ghost of a smirk.

"Noctavius," he breathed. Death took that as an invitation and moved inside, as fluid as ice through a glass of water. No, like a wild animal ready to pounce. Even though Death had the shape of a human, the large house suddenly felt too small.

"Nice place," said Death, scrunching his nose. He took a seat on the now sheet-free couch and hit the remote. The television blinked to life, and Death flickered through the channels as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Maruble blinked. Ah, this was likely not the god's first trip to the human lands. No one died as much as humans, and surely the God of Death played some part in that, but Maruble didn't know what. Perhaps now that he was human, he didn't want to know. Noctavius continued, "Terrible ruling on the Court's part, wouldn't you say? In all my years, I've never seen a ruling like this, especially coming from a third party. Strange of your mother to step in like that. Right now, you could be standing on Alta and working to regain your powers. Instead, she wanted you here. Very strange. Very strange, indeed."

Maruble plopped into an armchair. Perhaps his mother had really tired of him, and she had brought him here to teach him a lesson. What that lesson could possibly be, he wasn't sure, but the thought made his blood boil. He leaned forward and asked, "Why have you come?"

Death ignored him. "I tried standing up for you, after your sentencing. I even talked with Balance after the fact, but he and his sniveling pets wouldn't hear a word of it."

"Peace and Justice."

Noctavius nodded, changing the channel once again. "They were adamant that you should stay. Ever faithful in your mother, it seems."

"Tell me," said Maruble, pursing his lips. "Is all of this truly worth it? Do you believe that Alta could become as great as it once was?"

The antlered man turned to him. "Yes, I do."

"There's no way I can go back?"

"Finally," said Death, and he laughed. He flickered off the television and turned to him. "I was beginning to think that you'd warmed to the place."

Maruble growled, "Of course not."

"Then might I interest you in a rebellion?"

"Rebellion?" Maruble froze. "You don't mean..."

"There are not many who would stand up to the old gods the way you did, Maruble. When I saw how you spoke to your father, I was certain that there was no one else I wanted by my side more. Imagine it: me and you, taking the high court for ourselves. Going back to the ways of our ancestors."

Maruble's heart pounded in his chest, so loud that he was afraid Death would hear it. Gods had rebelled in Alta before, but none of them had lived very long to speak about it. All he could manage was, "Is such a thing possible?"

"If you listen closely," purred Death. "I suggest you play their little game and play by their rules. Be a human, do all the human things they're expecting of you, and eventually, they'll let you back. After all, this was never intended to be permanent."

"And what will you do?"

"Continue rallying my army, of course."

"Your army," he choked out. "How? Under the nose of the high court?"

Death snorted. "I'm not sure if you're aware, but it is not often those fools make their way to Frost Holm. My domain is secure."

"The Death Aura."

"Correct." He wandered over to the mantle and flipped a figurine in his hands. "When the time is right, we will make our stand in the Valley of Death. Has a ring to it, doesn't it?"

"You really mean to go to war," said Maruble slowly. "I feel strongly about my beliefs as you do, but going to war against the House of Alta?"

They would be obliterated, he knew it. A handful of gods against the high court was suicide, but Death didn't look addled. "War is such an ugly term. The Court of Balance has held Alta in its grip for far too long, consider it liberation. There are many gods ready to rise against them, ones who have waited for many years, and they will not fail."

A spark of something fluttered through Maruble but for just a moment. He was not sure if it was hope or anxiety. He hesitated and said, "How long have you been planning this?"

"Long enough." Death tossed him the figurine. Maruble missed the catch, his damn human hands, and it shattered on the floor in pieces. "This engagement will happen whether you join us or not, God of Fire. But I am offering you a place at my side when the high court burns. Think about it. And have an answer when I return."

Maruble stared down at the shattered figurine. Even if Noctavius avoided the term, he spoke of war. A real war between the gods. Something like that had not happened in many, many ages. Not since Balance took over the court. He opened his mouth to speak, but when he looked up, the God of Death was gone.

In his absence, the room was silent. A cool breeze filtered through one of the shattered windows. At some point during their talk, night had swept over the land and crickets chirped outside, unaware of the pressure weighing down on him. On one hand, they would take their world back and live as the old gods did.

On the other...

War. He pulled his jacket closer to his chest. Fighting against his parents, against the court, against every god that didn't agree with his ideals. He didn't feel qualified for such a thing.

But Death had wanted him.

Perhaps Noctavius was right: all he would need to do is play by their rules and his power would return to him in time. Maruble chuckled. It should be easy enough. With everything he needed in this house, all he would need to do was bide his time and he would be returned.

Once upon a time, Athema told him a story of gods who ruled over the Earth. When they were angry, the seas roared and, when they were sad, rain fell for days. The humans would call out to the skies in desperate pleas until the gods listened and took away whatever ailed them. At a cost.

The court had taken away that cost. The freedom to live and breathe and act like true gods. And for what? Why would they fight so hard against their nature? There had to be a reason. Maruble remained in the armchair for a long time, mulling it over. Strangely, he felt as if the gods could not see him here. Perhaps Death's visit had proved as much. The human, once a powerful god, closed his eyes.

Without meaning to, Maruble fell into a deep sleep.