His head still spun. Was that what his head was? He supposed it was. He carefully rose his hands, groaning as the joins in his elbows ached and he could not simply will the pain away. He could remember when he used to store the pain in a far cloud, filling it with roars of thunder and strikes of lightning-whip pain. He could remember how the wind would feel all around him. He could remember so much. He could remember seeing without eyes, speaking without a throat, feeling without skin. He could remember it all.
"I am-"
As he attempted to speak his own name, he felt his throat constrict. Felt a rumble in his skull as something told him that to speak that name was forbidden. It was immoral and wrong to try and praise yourself back into godhood. He grit his teeth as the rumble faded away, feeling his jaw ache for the first time in his eternal life. He felt like he wanted to cry. It was a strange, new sensation. Usually, when sadness filled him, it just rained.
He looked up to the uncaring sky, and saw the sun shining as brightly as ever. He briefly wondered if someone else had taken his place, if someone else was watching their predecessor with glee and smugness. He wrinkled his nose at the thought and began to walk, his hand carefully running across old brick to keep himself steady.
He knew this place. It was one of his favorite places to watch. To watch the colors of people blend together, to hear the noise mingling. A song of humanity at its finest. Now, the colors were too bright, the sounds too loud. He found himself feeling nauseous and overwhelmed. He made the first turn he could take into an open doorway, not caring for the place where he would end up.
He found himself in a church. A place where the noises outside didn't penetrate. Where the colors were faint and gentle. He carefully sat in one of the pews, bowing his head and resting his forehead on the back of one. He wasn't praying. He didn't think there was a reason to. He was a god, now forced to walk among the mortals. Possibly for the rest of eternity.
A name resounded in his skull, made his teeth vibrate and his eyes roll. Gwythur.
He supposed that was his new name.
"I am-"
As he attempted to speak his own name, he felt his throat constrict. Felt a rumble in his skull as something told him that to speak that name was forbidden. It was immoral and wrong to try and praise yourself back into godhood. He grit his teeth as the rumble faded away, feeling his jaw ache for the first time in his eternal life. He felt like he wanted to cry. It was a strange, new sensation. Usually, when sadness filled him, it just rained.
He looked up to the uncaring sky, and saw the sun shining as brightly as ever. He briefly wondered if someone else had taken his place, if someone else was watching their predecessor with glee and smugness. He wrinkled his nose at the thought and began to walk, his hand carefully running across old brick to keep himself steady.
He knew this place. It was one of his favorite places to watch. To watch the colors of people blend together, to hear the noise mingling. A song of humanity at its finest. Now, the colors were too bright, the sounds too loud. He found himself feeling nauseous and overwhelmed. He made the first turn he could take into an open doorway, not caring for the place where he would end up.
He found himself in a church. A place where the noises outside didn't penetrate. Where the colors were faint and gentle. He carefully sat in one of the pews, bowing his head and resting his forehead on the back of one. He wasn't praying. He didn't think there was a reason to. He was a god, now forced to walk among the mortals. Possibly for the rest of eternity.
A name resounded in his skull, made his teeth vibrate and his eyes roll. Gwythur.
He supposed that was his new name.