Anastasia Dalia

I talk in circles

1 I dont want to die

Even gods fall. Even gods cower. Even gods die.

And even mortals live, if their will is strong enough.

Once upon a time, there was a mortal who wanted to live.

That's all that Technoblade can remember of his first life. One cursed sentence, one cursed thought that brought him to where he stands today. "I don't want to die."

He was just a boy back then. He thinks he was skilled with the sword, even before becoming the Blood God, but he will never know for sure. He knows he used to have pink hair, a mark from the gods they said, and glistening amber eyes, filled with childish joy and innocence. He used to be… human. Fully human.

But that boy never lived past seventeen.

He vaguely remembers how death felt. She was… welcoming. Kind. She smiled as she guided him, not a word of pain or sorrow. But the boy didn't want to go, he let go of her hand and stopped, refusing to take a step forward. "I don't want to die!" he remembers saying. Death smiled sadly and reached out her hand.

"Child, ever since the moment you were born, destiny had something greater in plan for you. I can sense that. And sadly, unlike any other mortal, I cannot make you come with me. But I can give you a choice."

Seeing as he did not take her hand, she pulled her arm back and knelled down to his level, her god-like size incomprehensible next to the human boy.

"If you choose to go back, you will go back as an immortal. The Gods marked you as one of us the day you were born." She said softly, touching his pink, soft hair, brushing it behind his ear. "But you can still come with me. If you become a god, your destiny will be to endlessly wonder the world, with no peace, without being able to care for or love a mortal being ever again without your heart being broken when they will inevitably wither away, as mortals do. Here you will be happy. Here you will be at peace."

But the boy didn't even give it a thought. He could not yet comprehend the burden of immortality, of loneliness, of dread, he could not comprehend the power that he'd be given, the only thing he could understand then was the fear he felt deep inside his marrow: fear of dying, of being forgotten, of never going back home, of leaving all that was familiar and dear behind... So he swallowed heard, raised his chin looked Death in the eyes and said "No"

Death's smile faded, a cold sadness running across her face. She got back up and let out a thoughtful hum, looking down at the poor boy and the mistake he didn't yet know he was making.

"I cannot stop you. But are you certain this is what you want? Don't you want some time to think about it?"

In response, the boy tightens up his fists and looks at her, nodding vigorously Death looks at him, with an expression close to pity on her face and nods. He remembers how suddenly, the flower field they were on faded into blackness, how the peace and kindness around suddenly felt like a void at the end of time, how he suddenly felt so small and afraid. He remembers death putting her hand on the boy's head and whispering "Until we meet again." Then he remembers how he faded too. It was nothing, all nothing, all filled with a quiet so strong that it felt like he'd never remember sound again. He couldn't see himself anymore, he couldn't feel himself anymore, it was like he didn't exist, like he was fading away into the abyss.

But then the pain started.

He doesn't remember what killed him, but he remembers the few seconds before waking up. A surging pain all throughout his body, and then breaking the silence, The Voice. The first voice he ever heard. The voice of a God he is yet to meet.

"I knew I made the right choice marking you"

The first years were glorious. The power he had, the strength, resilience, he felt truly invincible. But his memories of his mortal life had already started fading away. With every day, his appearance would change bit by bit too. His once pink hair became a paler, washed out, almost white, his amber eyes became red like blazing fire, his ears became pointy, his teeth grew sharper.

He forgot himself, he forgot everything. If he had a family. Friends. One day, he woke up not being able to remember his name.

'Technoblade. An unusual name for an unusual God' he decided. It was a fine name. He promised himself that every human and god alike would get to know it. It was a fine time of bloodshed, when he'd go hunting for thieves and criminals, easily killing them.

But then the voices started.

They were angry, vengeful, spirits of the people he's doomed, here to haunt him once more. But just like Technoblade, the spirits would soon begin to forget their mortal lives, they'd begin to forget they were once human, and would become just Technoblade's eternal companions, forever yearning for bloodshed and war.

The young god only had a few decades to freely wreak havoc among mortals before someone was sent after him. Because, unbeknownst to Technoblade back then, Gods don't just become a true God just by being immortal and divine.

It was a cold autumn evening in a time long forgotten. Technoblade was sitting at the edge of a meadow, climbed up on a rock above the tall, yellow grass. A soft wind was blowing trough the leaves and grass, birds were chirping, animals were walking around and the sound of a blade being sharpened could be heard. The young immortal, clothes splattered by the blood of a recent battle, hair let loose behind his back, was paying attention to nothing but his weapon, it's blade growing deadlier with each grind.

The first unusual thing he noticed were the ravens. Black , quiet ravens landing everywhere around him. They felt weird. They felt... divine somehow.

But Techno tried not to pay them much attention. he continued to mend to his weapon, disregarding the birds that were slowly getting closer and closer. But his patience didn't last long seeing as soon enough, the birds were landing right next to him. When one reached out to pull on his hair in a curious nature, he got up suddenly, having had enough. He raised his sword above his head, slamming it with a scream over the raven. The bird had flied away with only seconds left. Technoblade started swinging his weapon furiously at each raven, yelling at the top of his lungs, trying to ward the birds off. But then, all of a sudden, he freezes as he feels a strong breeze hit him from the back and the unnaturally loud sound of fluttering wings.

He quickly turns around and shivers, seeing the man landing behind him. He had huge, black wings reaching out from his back and some sort of hood over his head, but the setting sun was behind him so Techno couldn't see him clearly in the contre-jour. The man landed, the grass around him put down by the wind of his flight. Technoblade tightened up his fist around the handle of his sword and took a fighting stance, ready to attack the stranger if so needed. But he could not help but realize, it was another divine being in front of him, perhaps a more ancient, stronger being.

The stranger's wings close up behind him and, to Techno's astonishment, seem to change into a cape going over the man's shoulders. He slowly takes off his hood, revealing a man who looks like he's in his early 30's, with blonde, medium length hair and blue, stunning eyes. Technoblade took a quick look behind at the ravens and back at the man. "Don't trust him" the voices started saying, but not even they were foolish enough to tell him to attack.

The man raised his hands in the air, as if to show Techno he has no weapons or to tell him to calm down.

"Do not be afraid." He spoke in a calm, soothing voice. "I am not here to harm you."

"Who are you?" Technoblade said in response. The sun had almost completely set. It was starting to get foggy. "Are you a God?"

"They call me by many names. The Angel of Death. Zephyrus. The Creator. But my name is Philza. And I am here to talk."

"Are you a god or not." Techno repeated. Philza approached him and put his hand on his sword, pushing it down. He didn't resist.

"No. But I am not mortal either. Just like you, I am an immortal who is yet to find their place as a god."

Techno stared him down in confusion. "What do you mean? I am a god."

Philza smiled in the same way people smile at a toddler when they say something silly. Techno hated it.

"Then what are you the god of , Technoblade?"

Techno looks at the ground, caught in his thoughts. Then, all of a sudden, the realization hits him.

"I never told you my name." he whispers to himself, raising his head and looking Philza in the eyes. "How do you know my name?"

"I have my ways." Philza said with the same sweet, peaceful smile, as one of his ravens landed on his shoulder. "Stalker, stalker, don't trust him" the voices whisper in Techno's ears.

Before he can say anything else, Philza turns around and walks away. "Come." he says, as all of his ravens take flight. Was he talking to him or the birds? It's not like it mattered, Technoblade followed him anyways.

—

The forest was foggy and dark, sort of cold, uncomfortable for even an immortal, but not uncommon for these early days of autumn. They could hear the slight rain, the sound of crickets and of birds around their camp combined with the sound of a crackling fire that was giving off a cozy kind of warmth and a warm light. They sat on the ground, on the dry pins of the huge pine trees above them, where many ravens stood to rest.

Now, lit by the fire and no longer with the sun behind him, Techno could finally get a good look at Philza. He had already seen his face and his shining blue eyes, but he had not noticed the man's clothes or had the opportunity to have a good look at that cape of his. He was wearing mostly green, a suit of some kind, with the cape going over his shoulders and collar bone, ending in a sharp, triangular shape on his chest, on which a green gemstone rested. The cape was black, just like his wings, except for the golden border that went around it. it seamed to end in something resembling feathers, like the tail of a bird.

He looked majestic.

It only then occurred to Techno how bad he must've looked. His white shirt had blood all over it, his black trousers were muddy and greasy, his leather boots were blunt, worn out, his face was dirty and probably had some blood on it too, and parts of his usually straight, gorgeous white hair were dirty and tangled. Only his blade sparkled, not a drop of blood, not a speck of dust, sharpened and well looked out for. His other weapons were all the same, impeccable and beautiful, but they had been left behind alongside his rations in his current hiding spot back in an abandoned wooden shack. "Defenseless, defenseless and hungry" the voices were saying, but he minded them no attention.

"Call me Phil, actually" the stranger said, all of a sudden. "Philza is a really long and weird name."

"Uh... you can call me Techno I guess..." Techno said, against the wish of all of the voices. "Shut up" he thought. "I don't trust him, it's just my name."

"Mmm, excellent." Phil said, bringing his hands closer to the fire. "I suppose I owe you an explanation. I'm Death's angel. I woke up immortal, just like you did, and didn't have much of a purpose back then. Death took me under her wing till' I'll find my own purpose."

"Then... what do you do? And how are you not a God?"

"Being a God is a title. It's something you figure out along the way. I feel like I'm close to figuring mine out. Probably has something to do with them." Phil said, gesturing up at the birds.

"So, you are the God of mildly annoying birds?" Technoblade asked jokingly. Phil snickered a bit.

It was nice to have some company.

"No no no, don't trust him." the voices would say. But he'd ignore them.

"I don't know." Phil says lightheartedly. "As far as I know, I might very well be. But I feel like it has something to do with death. Either way, speaking of her, she sent me to you. It's dangerous to have a young immortal doing whatever he pleases. So let me ask you, what drives you? What is it that you most enjoy?"

"Don't be stupid" the voices said. "Don't answer him."

"Help me out a little here" Technoblade thought. "What is it that drives us?"

The voices went quiet for a little. But they couldn't help but give in.

"Blood! Blood! Bloodshed and power! Anguish and war!"

"Accurate enough" Techno thought. He looked back to Phil and repeated the answer:

"Blood. Bloodshed, power, anguish and war "

Phil looked a bit surprised, maybe taken aback, but if he was concerned, he did not show it.

"Power as in a king's power? As in having people to rule over? Is that what you're fighting for?"

"No." Technoblade said with a faint smile. "Actual power. The power to kill an enemy from one strike. The power to fight and win. The power to be feared. There's no rhyme or reason behind the havoc that I wreak. It's just- what I do."

"All right... I mean. There's all kinds of gods. I'm sure you'll find your title sooner or later. But until then, Technoblade, come with me. Round the world. As I attend to my duties, you will be able to do... so much more then just hunting down petty criminals. You could fight armies. You could crumble kingdoms. You could become a legend, feared and worshiped all together. "

Technoblade's voices were silent, listening with interest. He knew they were tempted. But it was his decision in the end.

"And you'd be... Okay with that?!" He asked. It was strange to see this kind looking man talking of war and bloodshed with such indifference. But Philza made a nonchalant gesture with his hand and responded:

"We ain't mortals. It's not our concern how they decide to spend their lives. The wars they start, the hubris and the greed... We just use what they give us."

Techno nodded thoughtfully. He liked this guy... Phil. Besides, he seamed way more powerful then him, resisting would have been useless.

Maybe it was for the best to follow him.

They are both Gods now.

Philza, the God of Lost Souls, souls who follow him as ravens until they're ready to move on. Techno noticed that sometimes, it was hard for Phil to let go of certain ravens he held dear, but he always fulfilled his duty.

Technobade, The Blood God. He had thought for a while that he was a God of War, but while strategies and plans were fascinating and fun, it was the killing he enjoyed the most.

So many people had found their end to the Axe of Peace, ironically named, a gift from Philza, so many who lived to tell the story of The Blood God's wrath would tell stories, write ballads, fear merged with admiration, horror with worship. Technoblade became a feared enemy and a desired ally, and just like Phil had promised him, he saw kingdoms rise and made them crumble, the voices cheering and yelling behind him.

Technoblade and Phil were friends. Great friends and allies. They planned and fought wars for many kingdoms they had found worthy or interesting, Phil's skill with the sword being equal to Techno's. It was said that they could kill the strongest of mortals with just their bare hands.

But over time, their duties split them apart. They took a vow to meet once a year, in a winter night at the ruins of the place where once stood the throne of the first kingdom they crumbled. one day and night each year, the gods would meet up and spend time together.

Sometimes, Technoblade would find a lonely raven with a letter in its beak and send it away with another.

Until the letters stopped.

And Philza never showed up for another meeting ever again.