War and Death walk hand in hand, creating chaos on the battlefield. Literally.
War would often reminisce about the day that I was conceived. He would brag about how a major god like him had a child with one of the Primordial Seven, the direct descendants of Creation itself.
It was a fine summer's day when they met, not a could in the sky. Such a shame, really, when men by the thousands were dying, their life's blood mixing into the dirt, creating a dirty mess. There was a cool breeze flowing through the meadow where the battle was wrought, and if not for the smell of carrion, it would have been quite pleasant. Sigh. I wish I could've been there to see it.
Oh, don't give me that look! It's in my nature. All the screams of the dying, men and horses alike. Captains bellowing orders, runners relaying messages counteracting said orders. The chaos and confusion running through their minds, it sounds delightful!
Oh, yes, I'm getting off track. Where was I? Hmm, dying, screams, confusion. What was that? Oh, yes. War and Death and the moment of my conception.
War usually took on the appearance of a man, so I might reference them as 'he' or 'Father', but I dunno. I'll see how I feel in the moment. Death was more fluid, its appearance changing depending on each person in their last moments. The moment my father laid his eyes on Death, they had the appearance of a beautiful woman, so I suppose I shall refer to Death as Mother sometimes…
Trying to explain something that my kind instinctively know is difficult. Challenge accepted.
So! My Father, having gazed upon Death in a voluptuous form, started to court her. At first, she didn't find him all that impressive. War, the concept not the god, happened quite frequently, spanning many worlds in the universe, some more than others. She's seen him on the battlefield here and there, but only as an observer, safe from conflict. A bystander if you will.
'Why should I entertain you? A Major deity though you are, you have done nothing to strike my interest.' My Father did not take that well. Not. At. All.
Enraged at being rebuffed, my father disguised himself as a human knight and went on a rampage, slaying soldiers on both sides indiscriminately. When there was no one brave enough to face him in combat, he turned to Death, boasting of his actions.
'See what I have done?', he cried, hand encompassing all the bodies surrounding him, 'none here could best me in combat!'
'And you are proud of that fact? These are mortal men. I come for them all in the end. You did nothing special.' She turned her back on him and was about to continue her work, but my Father stopped her once more.
'Proclaim a name, any at all, and I will defeat them with ease!'
'Oh?' she said, one perfectly plucked eyebrow raised, 'anyone I want?'
'Anyone.' My father claims to have never felt fear before, but when she smiled at him, he was terrified.
'Very well. You shall be fighting… me.'
'Surely you gest. Is there no one else to fight in your stead?' Unknowingly, my father had angered Death, causing it to unleash its true essence upon the battlefield. That day, every single person who was on the field, died.
'You forget yourself, boy,' death said, 'I am as old as time itself!' Death's voice started to change, its form shifting into hundreds, thousands of faces. A great black cloak enveloped it as last, but its voice booming and took on a discordant cacophony of many voices speaking as one, young and old, man and woman.
'I am one of the Primordial Seven, a child of Creation itself! You bid I proclaim a name, so I have. Now choose! Face me in combat or never deign to appear before me again!'
Fortunately for him, War was no fool. He instantly went down to the ground, his knees sinking in blood-drenched mud and apologized profusely. Having humbled himself before Death, he gained its favor, and so relented and the two coupled then and there.
I'm sure you are aware of what followed next of course…
Two heavenly bodies collided in their truest forms, pure essence exploding outward in a shockwave that seemed to shake the world. The sky itself seemed to burn, a vortex swirling where in the midst, the essence that blasted outward now swirled together and mixed, giving birth to a new god. Me!
Once my body has been fully formed, I drifted gently down, safely cradled in the eye of the storm that wreaked havoc around me. With hands outstretched, my father gently gathered me in his arms. Then, voice full of joy, he raised me above his head, the clouds parting so that the sun shone brightly upon my magnificence and proudly proclaimed to the world the news of my birth.
'Behold my firstborn! The child of War and Death! The god of Chaos!'
...
"So, you're telling me you're a god?" said Paul, the human male I was staying with currently.
"Well, yes. The god of Chaos to be exact, thought I was very clear on that. Have you not been listening to a word I said?!" Humans. They have attention spans as long as their lives. Comically short.
"No, we were listening, it's just… hard to accept is all. I did like how you told the story though. It felt like I was there." It was obvious that his wife, Jess, knew greatness when it stood before her.
"It was quite good, wasn't it? What did you think when I added- "
"Are you freaking kidding me?! You expect us to believe you're a god? You look ten years old!"
"Well obviously, I was getting to that!" I cleared my throat theatrically because let's be honest, if you're gonna tell a story, clearing your throat is very important. And, so is starting from the beginning I suppose… I thought I did that though already? Hmm, I already told the beginning of the day that I was born…
Maybe start from the day I came to this world? Yes, that sounds good.
"On the day I came to this world, I was banished from my home. I had done nothing to warrant such a harsh punishment…"