The demi-god shuffled along the grey gravel shore of the ocean, clutching the spear in his hand. His insides felt as if they were about to turn to dust, and then something smaller, so that they could never be put back together again.
I bet Rhion would like to see that, he thought bitterly. And now I have to go through all of this, for mortals I never wanted to be around.
Blood trickled down his head, and he looked down at the spear in his hand, observing it. It's strange but beautiful tip, it's opals embedded into it's head, the soft wood of it's handle, and immaculate design for it's grip. And the orange crystal in the middle, one that had once been pure white up until he gave a piece of himself to tie it to the mortal's domain.
"...Did you get the spear?" said a voice behind him.
The demi-god turned around and saw the pastor that he had once been friends with, up until he asked him to steal the spear.
After a couple of seconds, he shoved the spear into the pastor's hand with a scoff.
"Go revive your king," he said between wheezes. "And know what you have lost a god."
This domain is now mine, he realized. If they release me, will I still go up to the islands?
These thoughts tore at his mind, his hope. He felt himself seeping away, as his body began to die, along with his soul. He had sacrificed so much for the mortals, so that he may be released and go back to his life, except better.
...I won't let that happen. The demi-god turned his back on the pastor and shuffled into the water, feeling it's cold embrace, and the pain of it's sting as it hit his wounds. I will reform. One way, or another, I will return. Even the god of life and death has a way to die.
And so the waded his way further into the water, allowing himself to be enveloped, until he was hidden from it's waves. He walked along the sea floor, feeling himself go deeper and deeper, even though his bones ached and his wounds stung.
The demi-god walked until he couldn't go on. Falling to his knees, he breathed heavily, and he once more felt himself begin to fall apart.
One day, I will come back up. I will get my revenge. I will become a true god and take down the one who killed me. And so where his final thoughts It takes a great deal of effort to truly get rid of a god.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
He didn't know how much time had passed. All he knew was that he was at the bottom of the ocean.
And he felt awful
The demi-god tried to get up, but he couldn't. He simply was unable to push himself up. And he didn't know much, just that it had been a long time since he last saw the earth.
How long...? He thought.
"God of this domain, I pray to you."
The demi-god didn't know where that voice came from. But it was familiar in a way. Something about it was beginning to tug on his memory, something about it was like whoever was speaking was at his mercy. The strange voice continued.
"All I ask of you is that I be reunited with my father. I am willing to do anything that is required of me, I just want to go back to him safely."
He was confused for a moment, but had the sudden urge to get up as the voice stopped talking. Slowly, he pushed himself up and looked around. He was somewhere under the ocean, at the very bottom. And the urge to float up suddenly became unbearable. If this voice wanted anything from him... he could use this to be put back together.
Feeling a sudden tug brought him up, up, up to the surface. The sunlight hit his face for the first time in a long, long time. And there it was.
On a boat, was the source of the voice. Above the surface, a storm was raging across the ocean, flashes of lightning, falling of rain and the rumble of thunder.
Then there he was. The voice was was his mercy. The voice was his ticket out.
...Just you wait, Rhion. I'll be back. Working for mortals may have had me end up here. But working with mortals is exactly what will get me out.