Part 3: I've Never Seen This Side of You

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I don't sleep so well at night
Waiting up and shivering
Heater's gone and money's tight
In this little home that I'm living in

You've got to live your life
While your blood is boiling
Those doors won't open
While you stand and watch them

Oh oh oh,
What is with you?
Oh oh oh,
I've never seen this side of you
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Svarog was the type to move on.

He considered it crucial to survive mentally.

He went with ideas of replacement and improvement, and would always try to find a way to get better things, if not the best.

Ever since people ceased to worship the Slavic Gods, he's went on his way to calm down by hanging out with other gods who've undergone the same treatment.

Each one of them came from different cultures. With this, he was impressively knowledgeable and open-minded amongst the other Slavic Gods.

Meeting Hemera was one of his best experiences.

Now he could lose her.

Through her he met Apollo, who had a taste for crafts like he did.

They remained acquaintances until Abellio's efforts were implemented.

Until Apollo's most beloved were unfairly damned.

The war brought them closer, and both friends had decided against the whole ordeal and settled for hiding.

At first, it was mostly Apollo's deal, but ever since the Night got dirty, Svarog's relationship with the Greek Goddess of Day was dragged in.

Knocking on the door cut Svarog's running thoughts.

"Can't believe he's late," The Slavic God said to himself.

He opened his house door.

"'Sup." He greeted with a bittersweet smile.

"H-hey, Arin." His guest responded awkwardly.

Arin let him in.

"I'm sorry for what's going on." He said.

"C'mon, don't blame yourself!"

"I know, but..." He trailed off.

The Slavic God shook his head. "You could sit down if you like. I'll go and get us both some water."

"Thanks," The guest responded, watching his old friend head into the kitchen.

He looked around the house.

It's been such a long time.

And he remembered why he came over in the first place.

He looked at the bedroom door.

He proceeded to-

"Here," Back came Svarog, with two glasses of water for the both of them.

Taking one glass, "Thanks," and drank a little.

"Great you came over," Said Arin, dragging his guest and himself down on the couch.

"I heard you needed help." Replied his guest. "And I actually care about Suzy too."

"At least." The Slavic God took a sip. "Have the beasts reached your region?"

"The beasts have been there for ages." The guest adjusted the hat he wore. "You-know-who's power just happened to overpower the magic of the beasts in our region."

"No, I wasn't referring to the beasts of your region."

"Then whose beasts? The Greek Night's? They're no different than the ones in my country."

"No different?"

"In power. The daylight shines brightly still in the place, so the Night cannot do harm. The strong faiths that came ahead protect the country well."

"Faiths?"

"Another came before Him, but to say that other God's name would offend many."

"I see."

"I haven't visited Europe's greatest in ages," The guest finished his glass. "Here I am now, coming back to chaos."

"All the gods that exist are affected. I can definitely tell." Svarog then set his right hand ablaze.

"Do wish for a weapon?"

"It's not time yet."

"For preparation, at least?"

The guest stopped. "Surprise me."

Arin then spawned a lump of fine metal, brown as earth, and with his fire carved it into a spear's blade. It was cut into an elaborate star shape, and this was done in seconds.

"Engravings?"

"My name. In my language."

"Write it down for me."

So the guest took a paper and wrote his name in his country's alphabet.

"Why don't you use this system anymore?" The Slavic God asked, engraving the symbols into the blade.

"No one else could understand it." The product, once finished, was taken by the guest. "And it was nearly burnt. Quite like much of our customs."

"Ah." Svarog cleared his hands. "Well, what did you write, exactly?"

Taking the paper, it read, "Mapulon, Diyos ng mga Panahon" (Mapulon, God of the Seasons)

The guest explained it to his friend.

"So, your name and title?"

Mapulon nodded. "Still call me Kevin, though."

"Like the old days, huh?"

Taking the blade and cutting the paper with it in a giggle, "Of course."

"Have you changed? Really doesn't seem so."

"Then why do you think I left?"

"You tell me."

Silence.

"I wouldn't be mad at a change of opinion, Kevin."

"He isn't that bad-"

"Who?"

"You know!"

Arin had figured out the answer. "Why?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why trust him? Besides the fact he isn't hurting the humans."

Kevin stopped to think.

"Do you fear him?"

"Why fear a person you trust?"

The Slavic God stopped.

Sighing, "he founded the idea of the 'Righteous God'," Mapulon went on. "Well, I'd like to believe so."

"Really now?"

"I don't know...His words have made me question our purpose as gods."

"We're gods! What do you mean by purpose?"

"He seemed to be ringing the question."

"We are the ones to define the meaning of purpose..." said the Slavic God. "Why he of all people should even question it?"

"No, I mean-ah, I can't explain it." He grit his teeth. "Sorry if you're not getting anything,"

"Don't apologize too much, Kevin. You only get a second chance once."

Kevin sighed. "He's a peculiar one."

Svarog nodded.

"He taught through story, used his power on the lowly and let men beat the life out of him."

"Surely he knew that offending the people would let him get beat up."

"But he used his power for good." The guest tried to remember what he observed from the spread-out word. "He healed the sick, removed the burden of demons out of unlucky men, manipulated nature, and raised the dead! I guess those things are offending."

"Raised the dead?!" An odd hope went through Arin.

"I'm sure you know he raised himself from his own death-"

"Impossible!" The Slavic God cut him off. "I've heard of gods raising dead men, but to survive deicide? Surely that is not done in his power."

"Well, he's a mono after all, so it must be his own."

"How is his religion mono?!"

"I don't know, but the believers claim it truth. I mean, so does He."

"Whatever." Svarog was done. "I've had enough about that guy for one day."

Mapulon kept his mouth shut.

The silence filled the house very much.

"I'm gonna check on Suzy," Arin got up, heading for the bedroom.

Kevin thought about their conversation. "Is someone you know dear gone?"

The Slavic God stopped on the knob.

"She can be." He gazed at the door.

"How long has she been like this?"

"Weeks, months...I've, lost count..." Arin expressed his sorrow.

"Maybe He can be your last resort."

Svarog sighed. "He knows I have a grudge against him."

"And I'm sure He knew that about me!" The guest tried to defend his observations. "He was around when his representative visited the country. When our eyes locked, He gave me a smile of...I don't know, but he appreciated something about me."

The grip on the door knob loosened.

"Where can you find him?"

"It is His year after all." The guest replied. "So most likely in many places."

"Like, in His men? That's a crapton!"

"Not all his men have it. I heard He's heading for this area."

"What do you mean?"

"Here in Los Angeles! Actually, He might as well have arrived earlier." Mapulon calmed himself. "Look, He isn't that hard to find."

Arin turned to face Kevin, both staring at each other trying to ease the awkwardness.

"If you're still up for it, we can try to find Him."

But before the Slavic God could answer, the main door cut him off with a tumultuous knocking.