Author's Note: This is my first fanfiction in a long while, so forgive me if it seems a bit rusty. As I continue writing for this story, I'll improve my writing and ideas for the story, so I might go back and edit some chapters. This first chapter will, without a doubt, be edited at some point.

Ah... Enough of the serious talk! I sound boring. ( ；´Д｀)

So, all that aside, I hope you enjoy the first chapter! Please review, and feel free to leave plot suggestions and ideas for me!

Rating may change to M sometime in the future...

It all began with a broken promise, as many tragic stories do.

There was once a foolish farmer once who went to the village tavern and drank away his monthly pay. When he finally sobered up, he realized his mistake, and began to weep, for he knew his wife would leave him if he returned home in such a sorry state. The man went to his friends, hoping to borrow money from them, but they smelled the whiskey on his breath and the misfortune brewing about him, and they gave him little, afraid he would use their money for sinful comforts and pleasures. Distraught, he went to the temple that resided on the outskirts of the village, and began to pray to the gods for a way to undo his foolish mistake. He cried out, "Please, gods of the land, aid me in my time of need, and I shall repay you with whatever this miserable existence can provide!"

Hearing the poor farmer's pleas, a beautiful goddess appeared before him, holding in her delicate hands a bag containing two month's worth of pay. She smiled kindly at him and called out, "Suffering human, weep no more. I have here, in my hands, a far greater amount than what you have lost. Fear not. I shall help you, my dear." The farmer was overjoyed, and began to weep and praise the heavenly being, but his celebration was short lived. The goddess, despite her beauty, was truly a wicked creature, and informed him that in return for the money, he must slaughter all of his livestock. Without the animals, his farm would be reduced to nothing, but if he returned home without pay, his wife would leave him. The farmer ultimately decided to take the money.

When the farmer returned home with the doubled amount of money, his wife cried happily, and to express her joy, she cooked up a large dinner. The main course was one of the plump chickens from the yard. After slaying it, the wife tossed aside its head and feet, to which the farmer laughed, for he had cooked up a plan to fool the wicked goddess.

After the meal, when his wife retired to the bedroom, the farmer took the bloodied head and feet and rubbed them all over his hands and shirt. Appearing to have slaughtered the animals, the farmer hurried away to the temple to show the goddess, hoping to trick her and keep his livestock. However, the farmer was indeed a fool, for the goddess immediately discovered his lies, and her beauty melted away into a hideous rage. "You disgusting pig," she hissed, "How dare you try and trick me? The Divine Empress? Stupid, lazy human! Your existence is like that of an ant, do you realize this? How dare you rise against my heavenly word? Miserable wretch!" He attempted to plea for his life, but the goddess would hear nothing of it, and as punishment, she cursed his land, and the rest of the village, with a drought.

The farmer begged her to lift the curse, yet in response to his pathetic cries, the goddess laughed and turned away, ready to return to the realm from which she came. In one last desperate attempt, the farmer asked her if there was a way to lift the cursed drought.

The goddess, drawing back her divine beauty, looked back at him with a sneer.

"You failed to sacrifice the meat of animals upon which you filthy humans feast. Now, I ask you once again to sacrifice meat, only this time, the meat of a human. Throw your sacrifice into the ocean, and the curse shall be lifted. Deceive me again, and this village shall perish in eternal fire."

It was a beautiful day for a funeral. The gods, to show the humans their sport, cleared the skies and allowed golden rays of sun to wash over the village; the villagers dressed in their finest attire and gathered at the cliff by the sea, flowers and beads in their hands, black ribbons and lace in their hair; the sole priest of the village dressed in his red silk robes and carried with him a scroll of prayers for the bittersweet occasion; the girl, whose funeral they would all attend, was dressed in a fine white gown, and in her eyes shone an unknown sort of excitement for her coming sacrifice.

The girl, whose name was Fionna, was at the tender young age of thirteen. With bright blue eyes that shimmered with innocence and beautiful blond curls that cascaded down her back, she was the ideal sacrifice to offer up to the beautiful, wicked, and bloodthirsty goddess. Fionna was by no means beautiful, as she had not yet blossomed into womanhood, but there was about her a pleasant, enchanting air that captivated all that met her. Obviously, the gods and spirits would be pleased by such a girl, and they would spare the village from the cursed drought upon tasting her sweet, selfless blood.

Fionna stood on the edge of town, facing the ocean, a worried smile tugging at her lips. While she was excited about being able to save the village from drought and famine... She sighed quietly and glanced back at the village, her eyes searching for someone, anyone, that wanted her to stay. There had to be someone out there that didn't want her to die for the sake of land, yet, her eyes met no one's, and so she sighed and turned back to the ocean. The truth of the matter was, to Fionna's disappointment, everyone was eager to sacrifice her, and not just for the purpose of saving the village. They wanted to taste blood and excitement. The villagers, who have never known the tainted pleasures of insanity and idiocy, were eager to get a small sample of madness, and Fionna was their one way ticket to such a tasting.

Perhaps, she thought, Mom and Dad would want me to stay, if only they were alive and stuff...

"Fionna," the priest broke in, coming up behind her, smiling in a reassuring manner. "It's time."

Forcing out a nervous laugh, Fionna turned around and nodded, her hands tugging at the sides of her sacrificial gown. "Oh, already? Got it... Let's get the show going, eh?"

The priest chuckled at her optimism at such a grave time, and walked on past her, meaning for her to follow. The girl hesitated for a moment, stole one last look at the village, and hurried after the elderly man, heart pounding wildly in her chest. She followed him along the winding road, and at last, they reached a cliff that overlooked the sea, looming over rocks that had grown rough and jagged from the hunger of the waves. At the top of this melancholy cliff, the people of the village waited, anticipating the moment of despair and reborn hope. Fionna, with a shudder, realized that this was it.

This was her funeral.

The priest lead her towards the edge of the cliff, where Fionna stood silently, her white dress flapping wildly around her. Turning to face the sea, the girl closed her eyes, blocking out all sounds around her, hoping to spend her last moments of life in a numb sort of bliss. The strong, salty wind was a comfort. It carried her mind to distant lands, where adventure and action awaited. Soon, she thought with a smile, I'll be there.

"Oh, Fionna, kind and generous human, gifted with the understanding beyond your years, go forth, and in your absence, your name shall be honored for many years to come. Go forth into the blessed realm of the gods and spirits! Go forth and calm the beautiful goddess that has cast our village into famine! Go, and may the strength of the earth be with you!"

Fionna's feet remained rooted to the spot. She returned to reality and looked down over the edge of the cliff, only to feel fear begin to brew within her for the first time in her life. "I... I need more time... Could you talk to me some more, m-maybe?"

"I said," the priest grumbled angrily, walking forwards, hand outstretched to push her over the edge, "Go forth!"

Fionna turned around and saw the priest walking towards her, ready to cast her into the depths of the ocean. Her eyes widened, and she shook her head, cowardice gripping her body unexpectedly. "I'm not ready... Not yet... I need more time..."

The priest shook his head angrily. "No, the prayers and blessings have been said! Go and save the village, you miserable brat!"

Fionna took a step back, only to slip one foot over the edge and loose her balance. She let out a cry of surprise, and reached forward, hoping to reach someone that, perhaps, wanted her to live, but instead, she only swiped at the air. The girl fell from the cliff, and screamed loudly as she plummeted to what would be certain doom.

Someone... Save me...

"Just what do you think you're doing there? The Empress will be greatly displeased if she heard of this, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let you get-"

God of Trickery cast his friend a smug expression, and in response to his words of caution, he walked on past him, chuckling with amusement. "You worry too much. Being the God of Reason shouldn't make you such an uptight little tattletale, you know. I can take care of myself, and trust me, she won't find out about this anytime soon. She's far too busy nowadays." He paused and turned around, grinning widely. "Besides, I think I just might keep this one. If she's a servant, no one can touch her, right?"

His companion, God of Reason, frowned with concern at the notion. "I suppose," he replied, sniffing at the idea, "I don't think it'd be very wise, though. A human does not belong in the realm of the gods. Recall what happened the last time a human was brought up to live among us divine beings? Tragedy unfolded." The reasonable god sighed and closed his eyes, a sad smile gracing his unearthly features. Such sad events plagued his immortal mind, and he could do nothing to cast them aside, despite his divine powers. After a few moments of painful reminiscing, he opened his eyes and looked at his friend, frowning once again. "It's a bad idea. She won't be happy here. The other gods and spirits will look down upon her, and she will only know misery. Reconsider."

"No," the trickster replied curtly, "I don't care. If I return her to her village, they'll think the sacrifice didn't follow through, and they will try to kill again. As my servant, the others won't be able to touch her, anyway, so what does it matter? I've been in need of a henchman for a while."

"Then get a lesser spirit... They are actually of some use, and they are rather common."

"Oh, Gummy, that'd be much too boring for my tastes. A human servant? Very cool and different. I'll be the talk of the realm, won't I?"

God of Reason sighed and went over to the other's side, his lips pressed together in a thin line. "Well, I suppose it is fitting for you. You are an oddball, so... Oh, my, she's rather lovely. Now I see why you want to keep her, you sneak. She's a human, so no matter how repulsive and stupid you are, she'll still find you divine, correct?"

God of Trickery's cheeks turned a light shade of pink. He cleared his throat and held the limp girl in his arms tightly, using her as a way to calm himself down. "That's not it, you moron! I can't return her to the village, so I can't just return her. If I do, they will only attempt to kill her again, and that would be a waste. I'll cast a plague on that village for so selfishly sacrificing a kid like this."

"You do that, the girl will hate you. Her sacrifice would have been for naught. Or worse-they'll offer up someone else."

"I guess," the trickster sighed. "Oh, her clothes are soaked. Gross... She'll smell like salt and fish and stink up my domain if I don't get her changed into something else. Do me a favor and have one of your servants bring some clothes for her? Have them clean her off. She smells like... Human. Wicked nasty."

God of Reason smiled and rolled his eyes at his friend's ridiculous rambling, although he secretly found it rather amusing. "Fine, fine. Oh, and Marshall, what about Lady Ashley? She'll be coming down from her domain soon. She's got a horrid temper, and I'm sure she'll turn the girl into a toad if she sees her with you..."

The God of Trickery, Marshall Lee, sighed once again, and smiled to himself, looking rather uneasy at the mention of Ashley. He adjusted his hold on the girl n his arms, and then turned to leave, laughing in a cocky manner. "No matter. I'll just make sure this human stays out of sight. Besides, it's not Ashley I'm worried about. I'd rather have Ashley mad at me than the Divine Empress, and you know it, Gumball."

His friend laughed. "She's your mother, yet you tremble at the very mention of her."

(Another) Author's Note:

Ehehe... How was that? (〃￣ω￣〃 ) I hope it's alright. Of course, there is always room for improvement, so review please!