On a cold and dark night a figure made his way into a broken, old, and decrepit building which had seen better days. Looking at its browning walls full of cracks and the barely standing pillars supporting it, one could never tell that it was once a celebrated temple of the chief of all creation gods, Vakma. The figure moved in darkness through the temple without an ounce of fear or unease and it was easy to recognize a clear sense of purpose in his movements. Upon arriving at an entrance enclosed by a rotting wooden door surrounded by cobwebs and other signs of total abandonment, he finally stopped. He pulled out a peculiar contraption out of the weird baggy pants that he was wearing. The contraption looked like a common stopwatch however the face of the object was a shining golden screen of the most precious glass and it displayed symbols that were not the usual signs of time. The golden light coming from the object shined upon the face of the figure and it was the middle-aged, brooding face of a man who could be considered handsome if not for the utter disregard he had for his appearance. He had an unshaven scruff on his face and hard eyes that conveyed only pain, sorrow, and loneliness.
He seemed to confirm something from the object and placed it into the inside pocket of the long coat he was wearing. He then proceeded to kick the entrance of the room, which was in a way a form of blasphemy with zero regard for the significance of where he was and where he was about to enter. The door fell apart quite easily and he covered his mouth and nose with his arm as the dust-broken wood and stale air wafted around him. He squinted his eyes into the room which was darker than the rest of the temple but as if he was a bat using echolocation he managed to move through the room without much trouble.
He finally arrived near a raised object and took out a matchbox and candle from the very same pocket he had taken out the earlier object which was quite peculiar as it left no outlines that were visible to any person looking at him. He struck the match and lit the candle and most of the room came into clear view. This was the room with the altar. There was no idol however there was a mural of all manner of animals and creatures flowing out from a golden light. This was a representation of how humanity knew that Vakma had been the source of them all including their other gods. He placed the candle on the altar on a stand that was there expressly for that purpose and then he put his hand into the very same 'magical' pocket and pulled out what looked like a jewel, a sapphire that was the side of an apple. This kind of wealth could buy a life of luxury any where he went. He placed it into an offering tray on the altar. He then took out a dagger from his pocket and proceeded to cut his hand, and raised it over the tray. He let it flow for a minute and then he whispered some words in a language no one knew and the cut healed up. He then dropped to his knees and raised his arms in a supplicating gesture towards the altar. His low whispery voice spoke in a slow and enunciated way.
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“In the ways of people past, I call on the favor of the highest and benevolent god in the heavens, hear the prayers of your child, and grant me a boon that is worth my soul and entire being.”
After he finished his prayer there was no sound or any indication of a manifestation. He raised his head to look for a sign but saw none. The look on his face slowly devolved from the desperate hope he had previously to a crippling despair and when it felt like he was about to break down, he felt a caress on his cheek. Almost like that of a mother showing care for her child or a lover to his intended in those silent moments where love bleeds through most.
"IT HAS BEEN LONG SINCE MEN HAVE TAKEN UP THE OLD WAYS IN THEIR PETITIONS," a voice that was both thunderously powerful and also lovingly kind spoke to him, baffling even this kneeling man as to how such opposing natures could reach out to him simultaneously. " A WORTHY BOON INDEED TO BRING ME THE HEART OF A DRAGON, YOU ARE MORE THAN MEETS THE EYE YOUNG ONE," VAKMA spoke referring to the sapphire gem the man had given as an offering. It was truly a gift worthy of the chief among gods.
“WHAT WOULD YOU ASK OF ME MY CHILD?” this time the thunderous voice subsided as the kind and almost maternal voice asked of the man’s desire. The room suddenly burst into glorious light and the man was enshrouded in a warmth that covered not only his body but it seemed even his mind and soul was touched to truly induce his deepest desire. Only one word rang out with surprising clarity. ‘Justice.’
Yes, he had come to the highest of the gods to petition justice against a god who had plagued him beyond what any could endure.
He was here to take Love to court.
“SO BE IT,” Vakma declared to all of reality.