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Andrew had lain to sleep a long time ago. Kevin didn't need him anymore, hadn't for centuries. Aaron and him dissolved their deal when he sought Katelyn's hand in marriage. Nicky tried, but it felt fake. Like Nicky only thought of him as a chore, an obligation. Andrew didn't want to be that; he wanted to sleep. He was tired, so tired. He just wanted to sleep. The humans hated him. The gods weren't that fond of him either. A little rest would make it all better. So he laid to sleep, and he slept and slept and slept. And then, he awoke. The smell of a sacrifice making his mouth water, he hadn't felt the soft caress of a sacrifice in so long. He rose and followed it, through the thin fabric of the realms to a small campfire. Next to it sat a small human, the firelight danced in his auburn hair. He was shaking. It took him a minute to discern that something was wrong with the small creature, it was staring at him with the biggest and most beautiful blue eyes. Andrew had known since meeting Kevin that he had a thing for those really bright, colorful eyes. But he simply hadn't known that eyes got that bright and pretty. It might have been that since long before his sleep had been his last sacrifice, after the death of the cult of Cthulhu most chthonic gods simply didn't get worshiped anymore. Which Andrew was fine with, but it also meant that he hadn't had a sacrifice or ritual done in his name in a long time and he was beginning to think he'd lost his tolerance for it, because this one he felt drunk on and it was only one. He heard the human begin to speak,
"Did it work?" He asked from his circle of onyx with a hushed voice, "Are you one of the Forgotten?" Andrew felt a moment of anger before he squashed it and simply replied,
"And what else would that spell summon?" Okay, maybe it wasn't completely squashed.
"For the gods’ sakes, it's a six thousand years old spell book that I was translating on the spot, as I was casting! It could have summoned a goat for all I knew, you self-righteous asshat!" Andrew fought off the flicker of fondness in his chest.
"That's the stupidest thing anyone has ever done with that spell book."
"Yeah, well, I'm pretty stupid ok? The book just said waking a sleeping god meant that they had to hear out your request because you were the one who woke them. As opposed to waking gods who could ignore your sacrifices entirely. So listen up, bitch." Andrew fought a sigh, he'd discarded the old rules when going to sleep as kings and magistrates rarely knew them.
"Alright, fine. What is your request?" He bit out through gritted teeth, his good humor immediately evaporating after such a demand. He didn't like being ordered around like some genie.
"So, what would it take for you to kill five people for me, what would I have to sacrifice in return?" Traditionally? Strongly depended on the god. Aaron gave zero shits and would kill on a whim, Kevin required service to one's community, and Nicky simply refused to do it. Andrew had scarcely ever killed one person in particular. After all, cataclysmic warfare really only had one use so it was mainly kings making sacrifices asking him to fuck up neighboring kingdoms. Generally when one sought a single death they went to Aaron, not Andrew. He had to give it some thought but eventually he determined what his price would be.
"I want two years of service for every death." The human didn't even think about it.
"Deal." Then he held out his hand. Andrew hadn't noticed how scarred the human was until they clasped hands.
"All five?" He asked, invoking the memories so he could see them.
"All five, ten years." With a strike of lightning the house they were in caught on fire. A tattoo formed on the human's forearm; a collection of black roses leaking very dark red blood, and among the roses was a tiger carrying a dead male lion. The human looked at it for a long time then looked at Andrew again. The overwhelming gratitude lit his face up, he looked at Andrew like a savior. It made a part of Andrew want to curl up and simply stare at it for hours. He hadn't forgotten what it felt like to be needed; but he'd refused to think about it for ages because it made him feel lonely. Now, he felt as if he wasn't alone any more.
(_-_)
His human was a strange but determined one. He'd told Andrew that his name was Neil. Neil was now his Warlock, Paladin, and High Priest. All of those roles were necessary for the following of any god. If the god was a theoretical king, then a Warlock was an assassin, a Paladin was a knight, and a High Priest was the king's advisor and voice to the king's people. As a one man following, Neil filled all these roles. He filled them well, Andrew had to admit. He spent the first year building a small temple with a small shrine. It was the most sincere thing Andrew had ever had. He settled in the altar's shallow pool. The pool was raised on a crudely carved totem pole about three feet off the ground. Incense was usually burning in the pots hanging on either side of the altar. Neither Andrew nor Neil were sure what actual temples were supposed to look like so they functioning on what made Andrew the most comfortable. He liked to settle his presence in the main room of the temple and sleep. Neil scarcely allowed him to sleep however.
(_-_)
Andrew woke to a screamed plea from his only Paladin. He peered through the Veil between Realms and saw his Paladin sprinting away from a tribe of cannibals holding something vaguely shiny. He could hear the quickly spouted prayers and he growled to himself briefly before letting his presence descend on the troublesome idiot and whisk him from the cannibals and back to the temple. He sighed and put his head and shoulders through the Veil.
"Why did you steal from a tribe of cannibals?"
"Because I took their carved idol."
"And why did you take the carved idol?"
"Because it has all their prayers and worship stored inside of it, if I place it inside the altar all of that will pass to you." Andrew sat with that thought for a minute. He wasn't sure if this counted as the duties of a Warlock or Paladin but he knew that the thought was a good one. The health of a god depended on the worship they're given, which might explain Andrew's exhaustion and poor mind-space. This might make him feel a little better, give him some energy and will to live. He looked at his human who was using the edge of his cloak to scrub mud and blood from the grimy statue. He felt the question bubbling in his stomach.
Why? Why put so much effort into something that is clearly an obligation? He didn't ask in the end however, he was so tired. He drifted off for only a second before he awoke to a very sudden jolt. He peered through the Veil and saw his human setting up a different statue with the same prayers stored inside.
"What exactly are you doing?" He asked his little human.
"Well, you see. I figured it would be disrespectful to put a carved image of someone else's symbol of power on your altar so I had a blacksmith melt it down and reshape it. Now it's your symbol of power. Then I found this diagram of how Phoenicians set up their altars and I'm following that. Andrew felt much more awake than he had in... Well, since Andrew and Kevin had "ended" their nothing. It felt nice, to finally feel awake and alert; not foggy and pained.
(_-_)
Andrew watched as Neil brought in the girl he'd seen. Robin Cross, she'd gone through something very similar to Andrew's own scars. Neil had wrapped her in his cloak after he'd found her, exactly where Andrew had told him she'd be. She knelt beside the same way Neil did. His hand still on her shoulder. Neil whispered to her quietly, then she folded her hands and prayed silently.
I'd like to stay, whatever that costs, I'll do as you ask. He let his presence settle on her.
Welcome, Paladin Cross, to my home. Because it was true, over the past three years Neil had built him a home here. It was small and smelled of mold and had rats, but it was theirs and would be theirs for however long it kept standing.
(_-_)
As it turned out, Robin was much better at people than Neil was. Neil was a good leader for the people, and remained the High Priest, but he wasn't super good at recruiting. Something Robin excelled at. She brought in many people like her, like Andrew was when he was still a demigod. They found protection and a place to feel safe. Only once did someone in his temple attempt to become the monster they'd feared. They sought to assert their control and make themselves feel powerful, he'd struck them down with fire and brimstone. He'd expected to be hated by his followers for this act. Instead it only drew more to him and his temple. He instructed Neil to construct a ritual for them, to be dunked in a baptismal not as a show of their subservience to him but his protection over them. It went like this.
A boy approached the pool in the center of the floor. (Over the past five years since its construction it had become tiled and reinforced; clean and much more temple looking.) The pool in the center was a carved pool, a perfect half sphere. Black onyx laid in the bottom made the pool seem black as night. The boy, who couldn't be over fourteen, made his way to the center of the pool. Neil stood in his black cloak with his hood drawn over his forehead and brow. Only his mouth was visible, the tiny scar in his lower lip was holding Andrew's attention and he was becoming frustrated with himself. He began to recite the prayer as Andrew had instructed him.
"Child of pain, come to us. Child be made new, in the center of his home. Child know, your safety is in his hands. Child becoming, know that he holds us all; as he holds you." The entire congregation said, "Amen." Then the boy lowered himself into the water and came back up. He was pulled up and out, safe and sound, under Andrew's protection now.
(_-_)
Of course, with all gods rising to power, trouble came sniffing. They'd been expanding. Neil leading acolytes out to different cities and townships to make temples and teaching them rituals and prayers. Making new priests for this order. It had been seven years since Andrew had found Neil by that campfire. Kengo had sent his Head Paladin to make sure that no chthonic gods were rising to power without his permission. Which lead to Riko fuckface Moriyama strutting into Andrew's main temple in the middle of the baptismal ritual, he looked around and scoffed.
"Well, well, well, it's true then. There is a cult of child-whores here." Andrew let his presence fill the room and announced to him that he was standing on holy ground, Andrew's holy ground, and he would show respect. Riko looked around, clearly shaken by this new development. Then the High Priest stepped froward and drew back his hood. Re-exposing his shimmering auburn hair and piercing, frosty blue eyes. He cracked a cupid's bow grin.
"Well, well, well, we have in our midst the half-breed bastard son of the God of Execution and Political Genocide. How glad we are to have his greatest disappointment among us." Riko's jaw hit the floor.
"You dare speak to me that way! I am-"
"Not welcome here. What a shame it must be for you that you live in your godly family's shadow and still are not welcome at their table? Little homeless Riko. Strutting around and begging his father for attention and yet? Does anyone hear his father's voice? Feel his presence? No. Must be so terrible to have all the power of a demigod and still be forgotten by your father. Must be you then. After all, it takes a truly terrible creature for a god to turn their back on their powerful mortal children. Little terrible Riko, living with no home or family. I can almost feel bad for you." He dropped his head for a moment then looked back up and licked his lips, "I lied. I don't feel bad for you at all." Riko took a step forward and Andrew let his power fill the room. Andrew drew in a breath and with all his power he said
"Leave this place, wretch. Go and tell your father that we have no business with him and he has no business here." Riko bared his teeth at Neil, who cocked his head to the side.
"Well, you heard our god, get moving. Or be moved." Riko got moving after another reminder of Andrew's presence here. He went to retreat behind the Veil again when he heard Neil's silent prayer.
Don't leave. Stay, here with us, s'il vous plait? The soft reminder of Neil's dedication to Andrew's requests was enough to pull him back into the room with his followers. He could feel their pain and anger. Their anguish called out to the one who'd promised them protection. Neil began to pray to Andrew, loud enough to be heard but not to disturb the prayers of the others. He settled his presence among them and felt as they relaxed into him. Slowly, he relaxed into them too. Neil began to softly sing a psalm and the others joined him after not too long. Andrew thought softly to himself that this is what Neil had given him, a home, a people.
(_-_)
Neil was praying one day when he asked,
"Why those like us?" Andrew gave it a moment, his prayer had halted making it clear that he desired an answer.
"Because this is what I had wished for when I was still a demigod." Neil absorbed this in silence,
"Would I be able to know any more?"
"I was born to my goddess mother and a human man, me and my brother. I was not allowed to live in the godly realms with my brother, instead I was cast out and into the human realms. I grew up in my mother's cult, raised by the house of Spears. The elder prince..." Andrew paused, Neil told him he didn't have to continue if he didn't want to. Andrew knew he would, he'd give Neil this much at least. "He took a 'liking' to me. Causing me pain in the same way Steven did to Robin. Eventually I attempted to kill myself and in so only killed the mortal part of me; then I crossed into the godly realm. I found that my godly mother had raised her hand to my brother and struck her from the heaven's. My brother is still angry over this, he'd had his mortality burned from him by our cousin."
“Would you be comfortable sharing more?” Andrew took a moment to reign in whatever emotion that question had summoned. Sometimes it was hard for him to… understand his human and his question. Was he? What qualifies as “comfortable” in this situation? He had given up a long time ago on pretending he didn’t care. His human cared about him, not as his source of power or protection, but as a sentient… person. It was only fair he returned the favor. His human mistaked his silence as negative and began speaking.
“It’s just that the story was so halting I wasn’t sure– I didn’t want you to feel pressured or like you owed me because I told you everything…” He trailed off when he sensed Andrew preparing to speak.
“There was another, the God of Central Government and Kingly Wisdom-” It really showed in Kevin’s personality. “-He sought protection in my corner of Hell from a god who was hunting him. The very god who fathered Riko. This god, much like me and my brother, started off as a demigod and had it burned away. I gave him the protection he sought and when he was ready, he became his own creature once again. My brother then sought the Goddess of Youth’s hand in marriage and separated himself from me. The last, my cousin… He didn’t want me around, he pretended he did, but…” His little human, his infuriating, brash, caring, stupid, little human just put his hand on the altar and said a silent prayer. Of thanks. Of support. Of connection.
“I understand.” He said.
(_-_)
When Neil’s ten years elapsed Andrew prepared himself for Neil to leave, but the day came and Neil got up and went through the same routine as he had for the past decade. During his morning prayers over his breakfast Andrew asked him(anxiety twisting in his gut though he will deny it for eternity) Are you not going to leave? Immediately Neil’s prayers stopped and he asked aloud to his empty room,
“What?” His voice broke and Andrew wondered only for a moment why. Your ten years are up? Are you not going to choose the next High Priest and have your freedom? His human was silent for a long moment. Again aloud he said,
“Do you want me to?” Andrew didn’t know how to answer that. If you desire to leave, I will not stop you. Neil’s dumbass actually sagged into his chair in relief. “I’m not going anywhere.” He said with a cocky grin that Andrew wanted to kiss off his smartass mouth when he said, “I’m never leaving you, you can’t get rid of me.”
(_-_)
Andrew had given Robin and Neil very specific instructions. A tiny, five year follower of his had prayed the same prayer again and again at Neil’s services that Andrew had decided to answer it. He considered what it meant that this single, near toddler follower’s prayers had convinced him to take his demigod form again. This time he would have godly powers in said form, but it was still the form that Drake had– that he had killed himself in. He had killed this part of himself and now, for the prayers of a five year old, he was resurrecting it. Kind of. What he needed was mortal blood. That Neil had vehemently given. He didn’t know you could vehemently give something, but here they were. A pool of mercury, which Robin had painstakingly put together. And someone to offer a breath, which fell the little one with faithful prayers. Only Neil, Robin, and the little one were in the room. A large, warm towel was set aside next to black robes. Neil began chanting the prayer as he cut his hand and let a few drops of blood fall into the pool, Robin was kneeling beside the pool praying, and the little one was standing awkwardly. Not sure what to do. Their anxious prayers rose to Andrew like a waft of smoke.
What do I do, Abba? He felt something inside him soften at the endearment.
Simply breathe, when I form in the pool you will feel a moment when you cannot breathe and then it will be over.
And I’ll see your face?
Yes.
Andrew felt the pull of the pool, he let his mind go blank and found himself in the liquid not long after. It had turned back to water the moment his physical body had formed. He could hear the distraught cries of the young acolyte distorted through the water. He then felt hands under his arms pulling him up through the water. Air hit his lungs and his body began working on dispelling the water from him. When his body stopped its hacking coughs and his mind cleared he registered that he was on cold stone and wrapped in a large towel. He looked around and absorbed the details of his three followers through his mortal senses. Neil’s eyes had shades of blue in them, a soft sky blue and a pale icy blue; he also had freckles across his nose and cheeks.. Robin’s hair had the softest red tint to its blackness. He turned to the littlest of his disciples. The small strawberry blonde looked up at him through big, pine green eyes.
“What’s your name?” He asked them.
“Alex.” They said, “Alex Josten.” He turned back to Neil who still had one arm stretched out to him. He now registered the very important information that Neil’s black tanktop and stirrup leggings were soaked through and hugging his lithe, strong frame very nicely.
“You adopted them?” He asked. Neil turned his gaze to the little one,
“Yes. Alex is mine and I am theirs.” Andrew hummed as something akin to longing tore at his heart. Then Neil turned his eyes back to Andrew,
“Did we do it correctly? Is everything as it should be?” He reached his hand a little closer and Andrew noticed it was bleeding. He grabbed it with his own hand and inspected it to make sure it was clean and what kind of bandaging it needed. Alex gasped at the scars on Andrew's arms. He had remade his body as it was when he was a demigod. It appears he was successful a little too much. Alex scooted closer,
“What..?” Was all their little voice could get out before it broke.
“They are proof our god is a fighter, a survivor, like us.” Neil said, he was looking at Andrew. Andrew’s heart clenched behind his ribs as he looked at his human. Those big blue eyes were staring at him with so much sincerity it almost hurt.
“Yes or no?” He whispered.
“Yes.” Neil breathed. Andrew threaded his free hand through Neil’s hair and pulled him in for a kiss, his other hand moved from Neil wrist to his still bleeding hand and held it against his chest. Alex gasped in shock and then giggled furiously. Robin said a soft, “I knew it.” From that day on, the Josten family was three. A loyal god, a spitfire runaway, and a child with scars down their back. If they all wore black armbands and ate midnight lunch as if it were a normal meal and took naps together in the sun; well, who had to know? Precisely no one, except for nosy gods who had no business butting into Andrew's business.