The halcyon days of Mejias’ youth quickly passed as the city rapidly succumbed to the illness. The epidemic appeared to be primarily a lung issue, with the sick having difficulty breathing, gasping for breath. Iseult was uncomfortably reminded of her death. It was not something she’d wish on anyone else.
It was when Hija’s mother Vili caught the sickness that Iseult became aware of something more supernatural at work. Vili was visiting for tea with Orikka. She had taken to coming over after Hija had a particularly excessive mishap at her house, involving a minor explosion and flooding, resulting in Vili staying at their house for a night. She was a very cheery, chatty woman who carried a conversation by herself, and Orikka seemed to find her fascinating. ‘So I told her where exactly she could shove her opinion and of course she didn’t take that too well. But her face,’ she giggled, ‘oh it was worth it,’ she said with a mischievous grin very similar to her son’s, complete with his dimple. Her story on vegetable haggling was interrupted by a coughing fit, a strange breath leaving her mouth. Iseult could see a sort of void leaving it, a lack of air, but also something more. Something similar to what she had seen elsewhere in other gods, if less prominent. A plague god. A shiver ran up her ghostly spine. A god of sentient air that stole away the breath of its unwilling devotees. The gods that took devotees regardless of the consent of the beings involved, like Noctua the dream god, and now this unnamed plague god, made her exceedingly uncomfortable. Orikka must already be aware, she wondered why they hadn’t brought it up. It made her anxious, like they were no longer a team. Ever since their disagreement over Mejias it felt like they were drifting apart. Vili coughed again, ‘excuse me, I must have caught that cough going around. Don’t worry,’ she rummaged in her macrame bag, the eyes embroidered on it likely a reference to the many eyes adorning Veris’ antlers. It seemed a little trite for an homage, but it wasn’t really Iseult’s place to judge. Vili emerged from her bag triumphant, waving a hyena print mask before placing it over her face. ‘I just made this the other day, I’ve been giving them out, would you like a couple?’
With promises to make Orikka some masks, Vili headed out. ‘Did you know the sickness going around was caused by a god?’ Iseult was unable to hold the question in any longer. Orikka paused in clearing the tea and cookies off the table, turning to look at Iseult briefly over their shoulder. ‘Yes,’ they resumed cleaning. Iseult sighed, ‘then why didn’t you say something?’ She didn’t want to have an argument, just wanted Orikka to stop freezing her out. ‘It didn’t seem particularly important.’ Frustrating. But perhaps they truly didn’t think it was important, maybe she was just being sensitive. She tried to keep her annoyance from her voice. ‘I’d really like to be kept informed next time something this big occurs, it’s hard to plan for the future without having all of the current information available. And if this is about Mejias,’ she took a breath, ‘we can tell her more about her birthright.’ She valued her relationship with Orikka more than this argument, and it was about time for them to come clean to Mejias anyway, it was unfair to continue keeping this from her now that she was growing up. She didn’t want to be like her father, at least as much as she could avoid. She felt incredibly ashamed manipulating things from behind the scenes as it was, like she was becoming more like him each day, so maybe being more transparent would alleviate some of the guilt. And who knew, maybe Mejias would make the prophecy her own, despite the determinism of it all. Orikka turned to face her, the dishes clinking in the sink behind them. ‘I don’t want you to think I don’t care about my daughter, I love Mejias just as much as any of my children. But I can’t put the needs of one over the needs of the others. You have become distracted, from the goal of this project. You have been myopic when it comes to Mejias. It has been difficult for me to trust the choices you make. I didn’t want to complicate the issue. I apologize if my decision came across pettiness. I will do my best to keep you better abreast of developments in the broader world, but please put in the same effort. I can’t do this alone.’ Iseult nodded, relieved with the resolution. ‘I will.’ Now to figure out how to breach the subject with Mejias, before Yanus intervened again.
The opportunity came easily in the next couple days. ‘Humans pass away, Meme,’ Orikka said, their voice serene, ‘it is the natural order of things.’ Mejias pushed, resistant ‘but, but I won’t, and I’m human! Why can’t we share the godseed with others?’ A friend from school had lost a parent to the plague, and Mejias was still reeling. She had some minor experiences with death as a child, Spot, Hija’s cat had passed away about a year after the show and tell episode. Hija had been devastated, as sensitive as the boy was, and had cried for days afterwards, still getting teary whenever it was brought up.
‘There are a couple reasons,’ Iseult interjected, ‘first of all, not everyone survives the transformation, no matter god, demigod, or acolyte, it's a painful and dangerous process, the body is violently transformed. And secondly,’ she gathered herself here, this was it, she would be sharing the foundational issue that gave birth to the idea of the messiah. ‘Becoming a god, or whichever designation, is dangerous to the world.’ She made careful eye contact with a wary Mejias, wanting her to truly grasp the problem, perhaps even anticipate the solution they had arrived at by herself. ‘Besides Nobi, every other god has a corrupted soul, and they infect their progeny with their corruption, ripping at whole souls in order to fill the damage. It is not an exaggeration to say that they could tear apart the fabric of the world.’ It was a lot of information to drop on a person, let alone a child, though Mejias was quickly leaving the innocence of childhood behind. ‘The gods are corrupted?’ She asked in a small voice, overwhelmed. Iseult nodded. ‘Then why are they allowed to exist?’ That was not a question she prepared for, she would never have expected Mejias to be so violent. But nonetheless, ‘destroying a god neither absolves them nor repairs the corruption. It’s not a real solution to the problem.’ Mejias looked frustrated, ‘then what is?’ ‘Well,’ Iseult began gently, ‘we’re hoping that when you ascend to godhood, your abilities with spacetime, and access to the soul world will allow you to open a gate between the two worlds for the gods to pass through and purify themselves, so that they no longer build up the corruption that puts the world at risk.’ Mejias looked at her with shock, ‘that’s why you had me? You had me for some plot? To fulfill some, some twisted prophecy? I can’t believe you. I can’t believe this.’ She shook her head, palms in front of her, shoving them against the table, as if she was pushing them away from her. Her chair scooted out and she stepped up, away from them, before spinning away, racing to her room.
‘That did not go very well,’ Orikka observed. ‘Was there any way that it would have? I can’t think of a single way we could have told her without her taking it badly.’ Iseult snapped. She sighed, calming herself, ‘hopefully she’ll come around.’ Raising a messiah was hard.
Mejias did not come around. She avoided them as much as possible, and when she wasn’t able to do that she either ignored them or glared at them, with new lamb shaped irises. A protest in mockery of her sacrificial inheritance, no doubt. Orikka seemed mostly unbothered, but it hurt Iseult’s heart. It didn’t help that the plague was worsening. Vili’s cough had her wracking her lungs constantly, and Iseult had caught Mejias looking at the god-void pulling out her breath. She must know it was something supernatural in origin by now. It couldn’t be helping her view of gods. Iseult could only hope that her desire to save her human friends would translate to humanity as a whole, and the world they lived in, if she couldn’t find it in herself to fight for the gods’ salvation.
