The Rise of Nix

Pain.

Pain gripped his body as he made his way through the thick bush. Watching this world from afar made it seem fantastic, but to physically be here became clear it was much worse.

Deimos yanked at the branches blocking his way, the thorns cutting into his delicate skin. A sharp pain shot up his arm, and letting go of the stalk, he opened his palm, noticing the red liquid pooling next to the dark gash. For a brief moment, the crimson liquid contrasted his pale skin as he twirled it around in his palm before warmth attacked his wound.

"Ahhh," he released a frustrating howl, his blood spilling to the ground. Deimos knew their bodies were weak from his observations of humans, and all wounds take time to heal. Internally kicking himself for volunteering to do this, Deimos tore off a piece of his shirt, wrapping it around his hand. Fisting the material, he bit back the sharp shot of discomfort in his palm. Happy with the results, Deimos moved on, careful to check everything he grabbed.

Making his way through the woods, Deimos thought about when all his troubles began. To the day the Gods had agreed to his plan. To the day he finally set foot on the physical plane with a mission. One he had dreamed about for so long, but suddenly he regretted.

Walking into the darkened chamber, Deimos stopped by the entryway, watching the three hooded figures as they leaned over the basin, the light casting over their shadows. If the Gods had moved since their last encounter, Deimos knew not, but they perched in the same spots as before, frozen in place.

Clearing his throat to catch their attention, Deimos entered utterly with the stone wall closing behind him. The three hoods remained unmoving by the sound of dragging stones, only focusing on the world before them.

"You called for me," Deimos announced softly, scared the extra noise might trigger an attack.

"Finally, we can begin." the deep, charming voice of Bellon spoke. The light from the pool illuminated his silhouette as he slightly turned to face Deimos behind him, the other two Gods just turning their heads in his direction.

"Thank you for coming so soon." Jupiter spoke, "After much consideration, we have observed this female, and we all agree: she could be the one we have searched for."

A weight lifted from Deimos by Jupiter's words, glad they could see what he saw. Nix is a wonderful being and would make for a fine first witch.

"I am glad to hear that," said Deimos.

"But we have rules." Bellon cut in, a sense of achievement coating his voice. "First, you shall tell no one about what you are, except Nix. Althought, she might not belief you. Being in mortal form on the physical plane, means you will have no elements of a God, so no power. You wanted to know how it feels to be human. Well, now you will."

"Second," continued Neptune, "Once you leave, you may only return once. And for whatever reason that might be, you would not be able to go back."

"And thirdly, beware of the physical body of a human. You will experience sensations you cannot imagine and feelings that will overpower you, as strong as you may be. The last rule is no love. You may not, and cannot fall in love, for that is the one emotion denied to us." Finished Jupiter.

Deimos listened closely to their rules, agreeing to most of them, except for the last. As silly as it might seem, he had actually wanted to experience love. For all the people he has observed throughout time, love was the one emotion he did not understand. Anger is his best friend. Sadness, she visits from time to time. Envy whenever he saw the Gods. But love was tricky, for it came in different shapes. Love for family, love for friends, and love for a specific one.

Somedays, he wondered if he could love, but as he had watched Nix, feeling stirred deep within him, confusing him, but he always pushed it aside, focusing on the mission at hand.

"I agree," announced Deimos, choosing to keep his objections to himself.

"Then be on your way," spoke Bellon, turning his back on Deimos. "Remember, we are watching. Always."

Deimos left the room with a slight bow after the wall shifted open, tightly closing after him. Excitement washed over him as the thought of seeing Nix and speaking to her became a reality.

Water rushing in the distance pulled Deimos back from his thoughts while making his way through the woods. A rough patch itched in his throat as he neared the water, his body demanding liquid. Entering a clearing, Deimos dropped to his knees by the pool, greedily cupping water to slurp down. As the cool drink hit his heated throat, Deimos's eyes closed, savoring the feeling. For all his pain and discomfort, an act as small as drinking water felt amazing. With a full stomach and sachel filled with water, Deimos straightened, glancing around the area. He knew where to go, for the vial in his bag dragged heavily against his shoulder, the soft hum sends out a beacon for his target.

Securing the bag tight against his body, Deimos set out, following the streams downhill, the end close to the village he seeks and the woman who would change the world.

As the sun began to set, the woods bathed in a red glow, making it seem magical, which it is. Deimos reached the end of the stream as it gathered into a smaller pool than before. The tree covered the pool with only a single trail leading out. Following the path, Deimos entered another wooded area, this one more open with fewer trees and fewer thorns. A dull ache bit into his legs while traveling along the route. With the sun now completely gone and only a soft glow from the moon to light the way, Deimos became frustrated. His body was weak and his stomach empty. After a day's travel by foot, he realized this mission might be more complicated than he thought. Dropping to sit on the ground, Deimos dropped his head between his legs, cradling himself. Bellon' words swam in his mind, making the God seem like he was right. Deimos would not be able to do this. Just getting to her was a mission, one making him more exhausted than he thought.

With a sigh, Deimos closed his eyes, eager for rest, when her face popped up in the darkness. A look he has studied for longer than he cares to admit, a face he knew every detail about. A face with a smile that could melt the iciest hearts. Nix is remarkable, more than she might know, and Deimos is her teacher if he ever gets to her.

A revived sense of urgency racked his body while he thought of her. Being so close to touching her was all he could think about—the excitement of what was to come spurged energy back into his legs. Jumping up, Deimos slid his hand into the bag, the cool glass of the vial snug in his hand. The magic contained inside shocked his hand with the direction of her in his mind.

Following the magic, Deimos moved on, each step closer to her.