“The God of Celestial Bodies has returned! He has returned! Rejoice, my brothers and sisters, for his arrival is upon us!”

The Kingdom which sat in the Hand of God was buzzing that day. There was a conference happening which required no small amount of preparation and an extra seat to be procured for the new arrival.

As the god in question, Solis minded his own business, kept to himself, and tried to make it appear as though everything was normal as if he hadn’t just been released from a six-hundred-year-long prison sentence. He even thought he was doing an alright job, until the doors opened to the palace’s conference room and he was met with the thinly veiled skepticism of the very gods he’d once rebelled against.

The day was already feeling like a long one.

“Solis,” it was the voice of the god of war, the ruler of this place.

“How nice of you to join us.”

Aeris’ words may be sharp, but at least he made room for Solis at the table and then poured the god a generous cup of wine. Solis only bowed his head and thankfully, the rest of the meeting progressed without any need for him to contribute.

He was naive about this world, The Heavenly Realm, he could admit that. The things the other gods spoke of were foreign and strange to him. Solis had also wrongly assumed that more deities would be born during his absence, but at the table were all the same faces. Truly, not much had changed; Aeris was still sitting pretty with his title of eldest god alive. Caishen, the god of wealth, sat by his side, a carefully arranged smile on his lips that never touched his eyes.

Tstovin and his Seraphim were here too. It seemed aggressive to bring soldiers to a heavenly conference, but the god of storms and sea was anything but polite.

Solis sat straight-backed and watched them all interact. He briefly caught the eye of the god of games, a reckless man with a cheerful grin and the attention span of a box of nails. Solis was under the impression that Euthos was not very well respected by the others, yet for some reason they kept him close at hand. Perhaps because his stories were the best. None of the other gods had a sense of humor worth a damn.

“The Mortal Realm has more resources now than ever before,” Caishen said pleasantly. “The number of temples and worshippers has also grown exponentially.”

Across the table, Tstovin shifts and crosses his arms with a scowl.

“Don’t get used to it. The mortals are like stupid little fish. If one swims in a direction they’ll all follow, but their attention span is limited.”

“And?” Aeris said, “Does this mean you predict a decline in worshippers?”

The god of war leaned back casually and gave the other man a faint smile.

“I seem to recall your own devotees multiplying rapidly over the last few centuries. Trade by way of sea will do that. Or, do you have such little faith in the attention span of your own… little fish?”

From what Solis remembered, Tstovin was very likely to become agitated or violent after being talked back to, but the god only grumbled under his breath and pretended to stop listening to the rest of the meeting.

Solis tuned most of it out as well. He didn’t know why or how he should care about any of their mindless chatter. Worshippers, power, and offerings-

Do they really care so much about these things?

Solis thought once again, that between humans and gods, mortals really got the better deal when it came to existing.

“Unless there is anything else, I believe that concludes our meeting.” Aeris met everyone’s eyes, and Solis forced himself to not look away when it was his turn.

“Not yet, I have something to say.”

It was Prentis. Solis hadn’t gotten to know the god of nature very well when he’d first entered The Heavenly Realm. He did have an idea of his character, as a self-proclaimed pacifist, plus, he respected the god’s ability to be blessedly quiet at conferences.

“I would like to extend an offer of hospitality to Solis. If I am correct in assuming you require a place to stay, just until your own domain can be established, I would be honored to host you for as long as you require in Ruewreath.”

Solis had only been partially listening, so he was startled when he heard his name. Now, everyone’s eyes were on him, clearly waiting for a response. It seemed like the best answer was one that would keep their attention off him for as long as possible. He tried to come up with a smart way of saying it, but his brain felt like mud and he was positive he was going to have another dizzy spell sooner rather than later.

If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

“Oh… okay?”

He earned a soft nod from Prentis and the disinterested acceptance of the rest of the gods. The meeting came to a close shortly after.

Outside the palace, Solis paused on a balcony, unsure where to go.

In the past six-hundred years he hadn’t spent a lot of time in The Heavenly Realm and explored probably only twenty percent of it. He knew Ruewreath was in the east and was said to be a shady, peaceful place, but beyond that, he was as clueless as the day he was born.

“Solis, it is a pleasure to meet you again.”

Turning toward the voice, the young god bowed politely, quietly studying what he could see of Prentis…

The god of nature and medicine was tall like an oak tree, but limber and thin. His skin was a warm ochre color and dappled with birthmarks both brown and red. His dark hair was tied in a simple half-up half-down look, with long tendrils hanging beside a well-proportioned jaw.

His dark green and shades-of-autumn robes were simple but seemed to serve a purpose. Prentis had many satchels and pockets hanging off his various belts, most of which emanated some form of healing aura, so they likely contained poultices or spiritual herbs.

Overall, Prentis gave off a sense of stability and ease that Solis felt was sorely missing from his own life. Staying with him in his home in Ruewreath would likely be worlds away from the murky darkness of Vriseon Prison. Solis was extremely thankful that he only remembers bits and pieces of his time there…

Also rather lucky was the fact that the god of nature didn’t seem overly chatty. Solis didn’t want to chat, he didn’t really know what he wanted to do, but it wasn’t chat. Prentis walked alongside him in companionable silence, all the way from Killera, and up to the main gate of his kingdom.

Solis had never had the chance to visit Ruewreath in the past, but all the rumors held true. It was shaded by an endless sea of oak trees, of varying colors and heights. The soil smelled damp and rich, and all around creatures and nature flourished, peaceful, as their god strode by.

Much of the buildings and houses leading up to the palace seemed to be made in a very human style; thatched roofs, and wooden beams. Solis glanced sidelong at his benefactor and tried to remember if the god was known for liking the mortals too. He’d have to ask, just as soon as he rested…

“Just through here,” Prentis said softly.

It was the first thing he’d said in a while, and Solis only nodded in response, following the god through the large double doors and into the main foyer of Ruewreath. Solis was sick to death of opulence and gold trim after having spent much of the afternoon in Killera, so the soft wood and potted plants everywhere were indeed another breath of fresh air.

Instead of showing him to a spare room and leaving him there like he imagined Prentis would do, the god took him to a private study, his own, it would seem, and asked him politely to lay down on the raised cot in the corner.

Solis had no reason to refuse, so he did, sighing in relief to be off his feet. He really wondered why all his muscles were this sore, having not used them in centuries… probably just another side effect of his power drain. He’d have to spend a lot of time meditating now, to rebuild his strength.

Solis could hear Prentis puttering around the room, humming some tune under his breath as he seemed to take several tinctures from his shelves and a sprig of some plant growing by the window.

“Your home is lovely,” Solis said at last, feeling the need to speak so he didn’t just fall asleep in the god’s workspace.

Prentis turned and smiled, bright and open.

“Thank you very much! Admittedly, I spend little time here keeping it this way, but my Chorus is always around tending to things. Ah, please feel free to call upon them if you need anything while I am away…”

After another little bit of silence, save for Prentis’ quiet humming, Solis lifted his head slightly and muttered;

“What are you doing?”

The other god eventually came over, hands full of bottles and various medicines. He set them down at a table near Solis’ feet and then sat on a well-worn stool. Prentis’ expression was content but focused, as he raised his hands and opened them to feel for the energy which should be coursing through Solis’ meridians. Solis is a bit embarrassed, knowing what he will find, but there’s nothing he can do as the doctor checks him over.

Eventually, Prentis sits back and looks at him, face to face. There’s a small worried frown curving his lips now, but he doesn’t look disgusted or disappointed, so Solis admits to himself that it could be worse.

“They really did a number on you.” Prentis sighs, shaking his head.

Solis can’t help but wonder if the frown and somewhat frustrated tone are actually not for him at all…

“My power will regenerate eventually,” Solis decides to say. “I will heal.”

It feels strange, those words. A long time ago he was sure he would never recover, but apparently, time was a killer to everything, even grief.

Solis has a strange moment of clarity amidst all the tumultuous pain that’s been inside him for the longest time. He decides then, that he doesn’t want to go back. It’s a freeing concept. I don’t want to get hurt again is the core of it, though, and Solis knows as well that it is foolish to try to avoid pain.

After many long centuries, he has been shown again and again that be it a mortal or a godly body, there will always be something diametrically opposing you, bracing itself against your life as you tremble under its weight. Some people use the strife as a stepping stone, a jumping-off point… inspiration to continue living, because that struggle gives them courage.

Solis is tired in many ways, but he’s mostly tired of persevering, especially persevering through a life that no longer feels like his own. He doesn’t want to roll over and die either, but he doesn’t want to fight so hard. Prison must have sapped it out of him, or maybe it was the power drain. Or, losing the only person he ever loved.

Prentis was talking to him gently, something about how long it would take for his energy levels to renew, and how he’d give Solis some medicine to help ease his body into it. Solis just lay there and nodded every once and a while to prove he was still listening. His mind, however, was lost far away, in a distant land… a time he realized he could never allow himself to go back to.

If being shackled beneath a mountain for six-hundred years didn’t shatter him, falling in love again definitely would.