In the beliefs of the world there are many gods. Gods who rule by whim and whimsy, bound to the people of their spheres by loose connections. Connections that only matter to the benefit of the gods themselves and for no other purpose than for their amusement. These gods that play with the lives of mortals to incite their own vanity and excitement before growing bored of them to begin anew elsewhere.

Such gods are not the kind one prays to without a sense of trepidation and fear. Or without realizing that no matter how pitiful the plea or sacrificial the supplication or abundant the offering, the gods may still decide that mankind is better crushed under their boot. That is the way of the world.

He had served such a cause for his whole existence. He could not say when it began, or when it would end but he knew life was not the same now as it had been when he began. Then, as a young and passionate god with little compunction for rules or justice, he took pleasure in the exorbitant powers he held. He relished the victories of large armies as much as the deflowered women he left in awe of his magical being.

Now it made his immortal flesh crawl. He watched those women as they aged and died, the few of them who bore his half-mortal children raising them with hopes for grander futures only to lose them to death like any other might lose their children. At first, when he watched their deaths, he thought nothing more than if they had been slaughtered animals taken for dinner. They were no more immortal than any others and those who believed in their mistaken immortality fell to swords faster than any other because their invulnerability disguised their deep stupidity.

Now, when the surviving few succumbed to age or disease he wished, with his whole immortal soul he wished he could have them as children again. Be mortal with them again. Perhaps seek love again.

His voice, crackling over the expanse between them, set his teeth on edge. Her fingers on his skin burned with a golden glow that soured in moments. And her face, once all he wished to see as they cavorted together over the hills and plains of both planes, now struck him as ugly in its magnificence and beauty.

"Still sulking?"

"It's hard not to when you seem determined to ruin the little beauty left me in the world." He adjusted his position on his seat, waving down at their view of the world below them. "Why not let me have one little thing?"

"Because, with you, it's never one little thing. And if you meant the king who just suffered the worst betrayal he never saw coming or the little girl now abandoned to the world, then maybe you need to change."

"Either option," He sniffed. "It was a small kingdom. It didn't need you to destroy it."

"I know you," She shook her finger at him. "You wanted that little kingdom to spread, grow its influence over the surrounding lands, and then recreate a better world."

"What's wrong with a better world, Vera?"

"It's old bag, John." She snorted, "You always think that life will be better if people just loved one another."

"Isn't it?"

"It's boring and tired." She sighed, leaning closer to trace his face with a finger. "Why not go back to what we used to do? We had such fun that way."

"You mean seducing mortals, inciting their riots, and leading them to destroy themselves?"

Vera smiled, "Just like that."

John shook his head, "No. that was fun before we knew better. We're not those people anymore Vera. We should be better." He pointed down at the earth below them. "They deserve better."

"Like what? Mortal gods?"

"If I could escape my immortality then yes, that's what they'd deserve." John stood, "Someone who could do this all better than I could. Better than I have."

"Stop self-flagellating, it's not attractive." Vera sneered as John paced toward the edge of their floating location.

"Why would you believe I'd want to be attractive to you any longer?" John barely glanced over his shoulder, muttering the words.

But Vera heard them and John barely had a moment to protect himself from her attack. They grappled, falling from their perch, and plunged through the clouds. John separated himself from Vera, trying to get clear.

Before he knew it she launched a bolt at him, striking him in the chest. He landed heavily and the ground around him rumbled. John could not move, broken and shattered as he was on the ground.

Vera appeared above him, standing in all her magnificent fury, and snarled. "If you desire mortality than you'll have to earn this like they do."

"What?"

"Find love John, and you'll be freed from your immortal coil." Her snigger caught John off guard, his mind fuzzing and struggling to understand. "Find someone who will love you and you can find freedom. Fail to do that and you will live thousands of lifetimes in pain, agony, and the knowledge that you've simply exchanged your high position as a lord in the clouds for the rotting, fetid, existence of life among the scum of the earth."

John would always remember her face as the last thing he saw.