Rowen trudged down the dirt path leading back to the village, his thoughts swirling like leaves in a storm. Every step felt heavier than the last, though that might've been due to the faint, persistent ache in his chest where Zoreth had settled like an unwanted house guest. Or maybe it was the exhaustion of having a literal god in his head heckling him at every turn.
"You know," Zoreth began, his voice lounging in Rowen's mind like it had nowhere else to be, "this whole brooding routine is delightful. Really, it's the perfect blend of pathetic and melodramatic. Bravo, mortal."
Rowen groaned aloud. "I'm not brooding. I'm just... processing."
"Processing what? That you're a late bloomer and the world's unluckiest vessel? Double whammy, I'll admit. But don't worry, I'm here to make you slightly less terrible."
"Great. A motivational speaker with a god complex." Rowen muttered under his breath.
Zoreth chuckled. "God complex? Cute. I'm literally a god, child. Well, technically I was one. Thanks to Lucian, I've been downgraded to... let's call it 'advisory status.'"
Rowen stopped mid-step. "Wait. What do you mean was? You're still a god, right? You can just... do god stuff, right?"
"Oh, sure," Zoreth said with mock sincerity. "Let me just whip up a thunderstorm real quick. Or maybe I'll conjure a mountain out of nothing. Or, better yet, I'll just snap my fingers and poof your little problems away."
Rowen's heart leapt. "You can do that?"
"No," Zoreth replied flatly. "Not even a little. Lucian made sure of that."
Rowen blinked, his stomach sinking. "So you're... useless?"
"I prefer the term 'temporarily power-challenged.' But yes, thanks to Lucian's self-righteous meddling, I'm a shadow of my former glory. All my powers, stolen fair and square, are gone. Stripped clean. Like a divine bankruptcy sale."
Rowen pressed a hand to his forehead, trying to stave off the oncoming headache. "So you're telling me that you, the god of greed, conqueror of gods, destroyer of worlds, are now stuck in my head with no powers?"
Zoreth's voice bristled. "Well, not no powers. I did leave you a little... souvenir."
Rowen raised an eyebrow. "What kind of souvenir?"
"Your body," Zoreth said, a note of pride creeping into his voice. "It's a bit tougher now. Stronger. Faster. Think of it as... a little upgrade."
Rowen tested this by picking up a nearby stick and snapping it in half. Okay, maybe it broke a little easier than it would have before. "That's it? That's all you've got?"
"Oh, forgive me, your majesty, for not being more generous after being annihilated by the actual King of the Gods. You're lucky I managed to cling to existence at all!"
Rowen sighed and resumed walking. "So if you can't do anything, and I don't have a power, what's the point of all this?"
"Simple," Zoreth said. "You'll just have to take a power for yourself."
Rowen stopped again. "Take? You mean... steal?"
"Ding ding ding!" Zoreth crowed. "See? You're catching on. If you want power, you'll have to earn it. The hard way. Find someone with an ability, defeat them, and absorb their essence."
Rowen's stomach twisted at the thought. "You want me to kill someone?"
"'Kill' is such a strong word," Zoreth said breezily. "I prefer 'unburden them from life.' But yes, if you want to manifest an ability, you'll need to... ahem... liberate one from its current owner."
"Liberate? This isn't some twisted pawn shop!"
Zoreth sighed dramatically. "Fine, fine. Let's call it 're-gifting.' Does that make you feel better?"
"No!"
"Well, you'd better get used to the idea," Zoreth said, his tone sharpening. "Power doesn't come from sitting around wishing for it. You want to stop feeling weak? Do something about it."
Rowen clenched his fists, frustration bubbling in his chest. "I'm not a killer. I'm not like you."
"Not yet," Zoreth said, a smirk audible in his voice.
By the time Rowen reached the village outskirts, his nerves were frayed. The familiar sight of the cobblestone streets and colorful market stalls did little to calm him. He kept his head down, hoping to avoid questions. But of course, the universe wasn't that kind.
"Rowen!" Mrs. Pindlepuff, the overly friendly baker, called from her stall. "How was the ceremony? Did you awaken?"
Rowen forced a smile. "Uh, not yet. Still waiting."
Mrs. Pindlepuff tutted sympathetically. "Oh, don't worry, dear. Some flowers take longer to bloom, but when they do, they're the prettiest of all."
"Oh, gag," Zoreth muttered in his head. "If she pats your head, I swear I'm setting something on fire. Or I would, if I could. Curse you Lucian."
Rowen bit back a laugh, which only seemed to encourage the baker.
"There's a fresh loaf for you," she said, handing him a warm hunk of bread. "On the house!"
"Wow," Zoreth mused. "At least you're good for something. Free carbs."
Rowen thanked her awkwardly and hurried on, ignoring Zoreth's commentary about mortals and their endless obsession with bread.
Home wasn't much better. The moment he stepped inside, Gene and Seras pounced on him like feral kittens.
"Rowen!" Gene squealed. "Did you get your power?"
Seras tilted her head, eyes wide with curiosity. "Is it cool? Can you fly?"
"No," Rowen said, sidestepping their barrage of questions. "No power yet."
The twins exchanged a glance. "Lame," they said in unison before scampering off.
"Charming siblings," Zoreth said dryly. "At least they have potential. Unlike some people."
Zenora appeared in the doorway, her sharp eyes narrowing. "Rowen. Your father told me you disappeared after the ceremony. Care to explain?"
Rowen scratched the back of his neck. "I just... needed some air. To think."
Zoreth snickered. "Better watch out, kid. Mommy dearest might figure out your little secret."
"Shut up," Rowen hissed under his breath.
"What was that?" Zenora asked.
"Uh, nothing! Just talking to myself."
Zenora gave him a long, scrutinizing look before sighing. "Well, dinner's in an hour. Try to be presentable."
As Rowen collapsed onto his bed later that night, Zoreth's voice returned, softer this time.
"Listen, kid. I know this isn't easy. But power doesn't come free. It never does. You don't have to like it, but if you want to stop feeling powerless, you're going to have to make some hard choices."
Rowen stared at the ceiling, his mind racing. He didn't want to hurt anyone. He didn't want to be like Zoreth. But the idea of staying powerless, of always being the weak link... that scared him more.
"Fine," he said at last. "But we're doing this my way."
Zoreth chuckled. "Your way, huh? This should be entertaining."
As Rowen drifted off to sleep, he couldn't help but feel like he'd just made a deal with the devil.