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The Only Mortal God

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She would always allude the terms of immortality to an inherent and perpetual privilege. The downside of said privilege is never learning to live things down, above all else. Scarlett Eve Mercurius makes a plea bargain with her mother, the Great Goddess Pan, to prove a point that the privilege of living is not one to be trifled with. Now, who can account for the price of her proof in a year of mortality?

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Prologue
At 22, you’d really think there were better things to be, you know? At least that’s what she thought. But then again, she wasn’t necessarily sure whether that was her or the voices and personas talking in her head again. Internally, she knew she was doing everything wrong in her life at that point. She consistently tried to talk herself out of things; however, while she tried, some parts of her resisted to give in to her conscious moral compass. Her body was constantly driven by something else, but she should have had better control. That was on her. Never on whatever metaphysical thing, she may have been experiencing, if there ever was one. “It’ll be over once it’s over,” she said, her feet just teetering over the edge. The slightest unbalanced step could finally tip her, and it’d be over. That would have stopped things, she thought. Still, she considered how she could have redeemed herself if she stayed alive. Maybe things wouldn’t have been But she thought, she wouldn’t have minded being in hell. Her karma anyway. “Bonne chance, beautiful world,” she whispered. With one foot taking a step further, she tipped into what would have been the last days of her life. There were no seven-second lifetime flashbacks upon impact; her body didn’t care to as she crashed onto the ground. Bloody, she shut her eyes. It’s over, she thought. It’s over. It’s never over until it is let be, she is reminded. It’s never over until she was allowed, she repeated. _________________________________________________________________________ Scarlett woke, calm and collected. Getting up from the pavement, feeling lighter than air would have allowed, she danced within the gazes of a star’s beam. She had waltzed her up and away from the point of death, to oblivion where no one even knew her name – till the point that she once called home. She recalled the scheme, and she knew it so distinctly. She knew death and she knew of mortality, just as much as she could never seem to die. Once she reached that specific step in her pirouette, it was almost impossible to ignore the tension that had been creeping into her bones. “How many deaths does it take for you to understand the consequences of your very actions?” The booming thunder of the stars collected in the sky as Scarlett suddenly stumbled away from the course of her dance. The goddess that mystified the heavens as if the Pantheons of every religion could not even hold her in a single space has been beckoned again. Everyone in the name of immortals acknowledged her, but what could have been the mortals’ most accursed version of a long and forgotten – the once Great God Pan. Scarlett refused to look at the deity, knowing full well the consistent disappointment that she had been imposing on her. “You know better than that,” the Goddess hissed. “You may be born amongst the gods, but we are growing past our boundaries, and learning away from our heritage. This is why we brought you upon the Mortals, Scarlett.” Scarlett frowned at the very words The Great Goddess had harshly declared. “I am no more a sinner than my predecessors. In fact, my crimes are no more dire than that the humans celebrate of your ‘heroes’’ victories. And I spit at the thought of that.” She continued. “You lot have proven yourselves worse by the day, as the day goes. Nowhere is it fond for the likes of those living, you are all to live life as they will perish and turn to nothing. Such travesty you made for everyone.” “And you still refuse your heritage, deny it past growth.” “Even the Gods and Goddesses that hail themselves are embittered with the truth that they’re willed and woven by their own mistakes,” Scarlett challenged. “You are all too afraid to come down with the mortals, so condescending, so—” “Enough!” “Just because you are immortal doesn’t make you immune to sins and mistakes. You are all indulgent and—” Scarlett heaved. “Even you, once upon a time. Weren’t you? But you all get a free pass just because of your immortality.” With an immensely off glare towards the younger immortal. “And are you no exception, Mercurius?” “What kind of mother are you to me? I would have loved to die alongside mother Charybdis if all I’d end up with is the pitiful excuse that is you.” Knowing that would strike a chord in the heart of the Goddess, she saw her lift the panflute and play her eternal song, the same that would draw her back for a continuation of her already stubbornly prolongable life. As the leaves start scrambling across Scarlett’s body, the wind wrapping itself back upon her; nature colliding with the truth and imperious sky that the stars undauntedly challenged, almost making the effort to pull her back in – to pull her back down into the realm of the Mortal living. “Mother, I’d like a deal,” she said, face determined before she could be put down by the Great Goddess again, the reason she had elected to jump crawling out of her mouth in a split moment of courage. “I want to be—I want to be mortal!” The Goddess looked at her sternly. “The repercussions of losing immortality is to lose your being, Scarlett. You can never go back.” “Then I shall strike a deal. If there is any immortal I would appeal to, I would care to be like Prometheus.” Pan cringed at the mention of the name. She waved away the leaves and the constricting air that enveloped her daughter’s body. “I want no daughter of mine to be bound to a rock. Speak sense, Mercurius.” “Show me mortality,” Scarlett heaved a breath. “For one year, grant me true mortality. Show me the true living as a mortal, and when I die—if I am proved wrong, I am bound to the wrath and judgement of the Upper Realm like Prometheus. If I am proven right, then grant me one wish.” ­“You realize we are not helping you within that one year. You have all your assets to yourself, there be no true guidance from the Gods before the judgement comes,” the Goddess’ voice thundered, visibly upset. “What do I claim after this? What is in it for me?” “I—perhaps assert a wish that the gods would all make on your panel. That is all you’ve ever done against the humans, anyway.” The oddest look flitted across the Great Goddess, and she nodded in acknowledgement. “What are you even trying to prove, Scarlett?” With the thought stuck in her mind, and everything whirring beyond her, the young mortal-to-be didn’t even hold it back. “I want to prove to you—” Scarlett began, “—that there should be a decisive verse of when the ends could be a happenstance meant for a god. And that living was never a privilege that should have been scarce, to begin with.” “May this be the last time the lesson be needed for you to learn. May you be washed and absolved, and may the new world greet you for what it is—away with you, my Mortal child.”

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