A/N
Good lord my schedule is hectic right now.
Disclaimer: Don't own. Go away.
The mountains of (probably) Colorado were absolutely gorgeous this time of year. The tail end of December still brought all the autumn colors, and with winter starting up soon, the chill in the air wasn't quite at its peak.
Not that the cold was any particular problem for someone like Nathan. Temporary enchantments, the ability to heat up molecules on a whim, or spawn a thick coat out of nothing really made the environments of Earth child's play for Nathan to traverse.
The Ancient One and Nathan moved at a sedate pace through the foliage surrounding "his" mountain. There was no particular hurry to meet his guests, as, to his senses, most had made themselves at home at the base of the mountain. Before they left the temple, he could feel at least one of them setting up some sort of campsite.
Now, though, he felt slightly blind.
Where before he could see all of existence out of the corner of his eye; know the path that each atom would take through the entirety of material space, now his vision was much like it had been the day before - with just the barest bit extra. His eyes still processed incoming light in all the usual ways, his ears and nose still funneled the sounds and scents of what was around him. He could feel the crunch of leaves as he moved forward, and the astral senses granted to him by his magical understanding, and the atomic vision of his Celestial energy were still available to him.
The overwhelming vision that his ascendance to godhood granted had disappeared as soon as he left his throne, but not without a trace. No, he still felt the connection to that vast, cerebral concept that he was now tied to.
Creation.
That was his domain. He could feel it in… well, not his soul. That shit was gone. Smoke in the wind, and he was still kind of reeling from it. Still, he could feel it. Every tree, blade of grass, or spec of dirt felt like building blocks to this new side of him. The carbon in the foliage, the oxygen in the air, the undiscovered gold vein two hundred meters below his feet. All felt like swarms of fireflies, itching to move under his command. All sang of their own concepts in an orchestra of greens and reds, and all colors of a forest in Autumn. The Fauna sang of their hunger, of their worry for the upcoming winter, and of the lives that they had made for themselves.
All of his senses combined into a synesthetic cacophony, granting him absolutely nothing but a headache. He could taste beauty. Smell fear. He could feel the smooth texture of a young fox's boredom from hundreds of feet away, and see the serenity of the surrounding pines.
Everything that existed held a medley of concepts in the core of their being. An atom of iron radiated determination and strength. The dirt beneath his feet was devoted and nurturing to all that called it home. The small creek a mile to the south held humility, and oh so much apathy in its trickling stream of water.
It was all still nothing compared to when he sat on his throne. It was like a massive puzzle had been ripped off the table, all of its component parts strewn across the floor and the box tossed out the window. He had an idea of what he should be seeing with this new conceptual vision, but the greater picture had been reduced down to bits and pieces.
He had all of the information, but none of the understanding.
But even then, he felt it would be easier to make use of his old tools - like his Celestial energy - to alter, and create matter. He felt that the effort that he would have needed to use previously was no longer strictly required. Ultimately, he felt that the only real thing that changed, was the scale in which he could work, the accuracy and speed that he could now utilize. Where before he was tearing the fabric of reality to mash the pieces together in some semblance of creation, now he could weave his own thread to build something new.
Now while this new sense of his was generally overwhelming - trillions of little details that spoke to him, that assaulted his olfactory system like an aggressively advertised perfume store - there were four titanic concepts that stood above the rest.
Three of which were composed of few, but very powerful abstractions. One of kingly slaughter, another of a warm fire and freshly made meal, and the last was much like himself, though more artistic.
The final titan walked next to him on his path to meet the rest. A purely mortal woman that embodied an entire myriad of ideas to the point it made Nathan's eyes hurt when he looked at her. A woman that had lived far past her own mortality, radiating duty, determination, tranquility, the warm and wet sensation that came off a cup of freshly brewed tea. Where the others embodied singular concepts to the point they dwarfed everything else, this woman had combined an ever-changing roster of ideas, that when put together, easily rivaled any singular domain.
Nathan supposed that was what made her human.
It took most of the walk towards the base of the mountain, but Nathan managed to reel in his newly granted, divine synesthesia. Unlike his hearing, or sense of taste, the godling found that he had some semblance of control over this new sense. He couldn't turn it off entirely - at least not that he found so far - but he could focus it. Limit it so that he wasn't constantly overwhelmed by information.
A sensation not dissimilar to squinting his eyes - just more ethereal in nature.
So with his conceptual vision suitably dulled, he was able to appreciate the sight they came to at their destination. It was a large clearing at the base of the mountain. A clearing that had not been there when he was picking the spot for his temple, though did not appear to have been razed.
To his left, an elderly man stood atop a chariot. Great, golden spear clutched firmly in hand, and single eye watching him closely. A small army of warriors lined in clean ranks behind him.
To his right, a beautiful woman with long black hair waved at him in what he could only call demure - if cautious - excitement. Her other hand was busy tending to a large bonfire, which Nathan could feel the heat of from even his distance.
In front of him stood another woman, though that was about all he was confident in describing. Her hair changed colors from one second to the next with absolutely zero notice. Her facial features, nose, eyes, and even jaw structure seemed just as fluid. Her dress looked to be traditional Native American garb, save for the detailing - in which the thread work moved to tell the creation myth of some indigenous cultu- Navajo.
Her name was Ahsonnutli, The Changing Woman. Her concept seemed to clear in Nathan's eyes. Her lips did not move. No words left her mouth. He was just now confident in her name, and he could tell it was her way of… introducing herself?
Maybe a language barrier?
Odin, The Allfather.
Hestia, The Eternal.
Yao, The Elder Celtic.
The same sensation filled him, but this time originating from his other two guests, and even the Ancient One next to him. Nathan could only blink in confusion.
The woman that tended the fire sighed. "Oh how long it has been since we were given a godling. I forgot that etiquette is not in-born." She poked one last log, nudging it a hair, before standing to address Nathan. "Introduce yourself, if you will, young one."
The Sorcerer Supreme chuckled. "Forgive him, Lady Hestia. Introduction is not something taught regularly among my students, though he should be able to get the hang of it quickly." She turned to Nathan. "Your identity, Nathan. Introduction requires that you broadcast it, and as a god, it should be relatively simple for you."
"Uh…"
Odin grumbled in impatience and studied The Ancient One with slight confusion, but otherwise didn't say anything.
Ahsonnutli stood still, as if made of stone - the only movement in her ever-changing features.
"Just follow our example." His teacher said, as if that was enough to go off of.
It really fucking wasn't. Nathan had studied all sorts of magic, mastered all sorts of magic. He had pieced together cryptic shit from damaged scrolls, and dived deep into the tangled minds of long-dead sorcerers. He knew how to learn from the seemingly inane. How to parse out the useful from the insane. He had plenty of experience in knowing what he could do, and how he could do it. He knew what he was capable of (up until yesterday), but he had no Earthly clue what his identity was.
Interdimensional demigod? Wizard? General annoyance?
Let alone broadcasting it - which he was entirely lost on how they did that. His divinity was like, ten minutes old, for fuck's sake. It took him a year to be able to do anything useful with his Celestial energy, so what made the crazy lady think he could do this with zero training?
"Yeah." Nathan drawled. "Still completely lost, here."
"The," Odin paused and narrowed his eyes at the pair, "pleasantries can wait. A verbal name will do for now."
His teacher frowned at him with a considering gleam in her eyes. Confusion evident, but after a moment, she just nodded and waved him forward.
Nathan looked back to his guests. "My name's Nathan Quill. I don't think I have an epithet, just yet."
Ahsonnutli tilted her head at him, and an unimpressed feeling drifted over the air.
"You do." Hestia said with a kind smile. "It is fascinating that you don't know it, though."
"Is it?" He asked.
She nodded back. "Identity is inherent in divinity. It is the same, whether you were born a god, or ascended-"
"We are not here for lessons, Lady Hestia." Odin broke in, waving his spear to the side dismissively.
All eyes turned to the Norse god. "Well excuse my excitement, Allfather." The goddess raised an eyebrow at him and placed a hand on her hip. "It has been millenia since a newborn was given to my family."
Odin frowned. A grizzled thing with his white facial hair hiding much of the wary expression. "'Given' seems to be the notable term in this instance. You may simply want to meet the young one, but I am here to ascertain his allegiance."
"Family?" Nathan blinked.
"Oh Dios, your paranoia is a tale as old as Asgard." She rolled her eyes. "Your father had it just as bad."
"I am not my father." The god king glared at her.
Nathan's eyes flitted between the two deities like a tennis match, but out of the corner of his vision, he noticed the Ancient One's attention focused entirely forward towards their third guest.
She nodded back, conceding the point. "You have made great strides in distancing yourself from that particular past. Still, there is no reason for this show of force." She gestured at the army that stood behind him.
Ahsonnutli stood still, never having moved from her original spot, and ignored the two bickering gods. Instead, as Nathan now saw, she studied an object in her hands with a curious eye.
Nathan looked down to the hand that had previously held Starsplitter, finding that it had indeed disappeared without his notice. Wasn't that thing supposed to be his new toy? If it kept disappearing and reappearing randomly, he was going to throw a fit.
"Midgard is under my protection." Odin said with a sense of finality. "You know as well as I that this is unprecedented. Precaution is only prudent."
Hestia huffed and made to respond, but was interrupted by his teacher. "Apologies," she said, "but how is this unprecedented? Apotheosis is rare, yes, but hardly a new phenomenon."
All three gods turned to her. Varying looks of confusion, disappointment, and slight befuddlement were all she received in answer for a moment.
"You were present for the event, were you not, Elder Yao?" Hestia asked slowly.
The Ancient One cocked her head to the side. "Indeed, but I must admit this was my first witness to such a thing. I am not sure what you expect me to have gleaned from it."
It took another moment. All three gods looked to each other as if wondering how to proceed. Finally, though, Odin sighed and spoke the words that would change Nathan's entire world view.
"I suppose that is expected." He began. "Even a seidhr as accomplished as yourself likely would not have recognized the hand of Eternity."
A/N
Pay tre on has the next chapter up, and other stuff.
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