devotion

The air hushes coldly over the barren wasteland, desecrated with endless bodies left by the ruins of war. 

A lone figure stands tall above the chaos:

Her. 

The heat beams down, adding to the unwellness present with the pool of blood around your feet. Though, it’s been like this since you were young, having grown with surroundings and refined with experience. Like your mother - queen of higher beings, ruler of all - has shown you the landscapes of these battles, to watch with such vigor, internalize the scent, how their limbs were mangled. In time, you’ll be no stranger to such wrath. 

It’s only natural, however. You can only hold so much back to admit you adore this. 

You kneel down to a deceased from the North, their blood dried up on their skin when a yell is heard further down the battlefield. Perching up, a silhouette is seen in the distance; hair fairly short and shaded, skin riddled with dirt and blood too. When you walk near them, their posture is hunched, leaving you perplexed. 

The girl becomes frightened when you ghost her shoulder. Up close, her features are fair: sharp, cat-like eyes and a pert mouth. Tears are seeping at the corners. Despite this, she’s quite beautiful. 

“Why weep?” You ask. She looks up and blinks, composing. “I don’t see why you spill tears over-” 

“I don’t know,” the girl answers, “I just found myself here and there’s nothing but-” 

“Bodies,” you shrug and she winces. Despite the obvious being stated, you’re left curious about her choice of words: “Wait. How did you get here?” 

“I’m not sure. I can’t remember where I was before- this. And then-” 

Oddly, your mother has told this tale a long time ago: how the manifestation of gods could occur both in conception or by some miraculous circumstance; the only explanation- actually, was simply without grievance. 

She’s the same as you. Born out of blood. Out of war. 

You take her hands and lean in closely. “We’re not safe here,” you say. “My mother may have the answers to all your questions. I can assure you that.” 

“Mother?” The girl repeats quizzically. 

“Above heaven and earth,” you praise, like it’s branded into your mind. “Jihyo. Lord of all gods.” 

“Jihyo.” The girl’s gaze lights up, wistful. Unsure of the name at first, but she remembers, rising. Before you speak about anything else, your name passes your lips. It’s peculiar how this girl didn’t exist minutes ago, despite appearing in a similar age as you. 

Peculiar could be one word to describe it - strange as another while you say: “I’m not a God. Not yet, I think, but this would be my territory.” 

“Yeji,” she replies, brows cinched. “If we’re on this- ruined land, then maybe we’re gods of war?” 

“Only one way to know for sure,” you say while you pull Yeji across the field. Your fingers curl around hers; and there’s the slight pressure from them, too. 

A faint idea sprouts in the back of your head: claiming Yeji to be yours.

–

Since you were little, Jihyo was seen to be gentle; as someone with a bright smile - beneath all of that is a pressure that demands respect, carrying authority. Her power is so raw, there’s a hint of lighting - flickering deep in her eyes. Yeji’s stricken look on her face is a justifiable one when you and her meet away from the chaos. 

“Want to tell me who’s the girl?” Jihyo questions with a finger to your direction. Yeji, shields herself behind, with you unfazed in the front. 

You and Jihyo have a staredown - a brief test to see who yields first. “This is Yeji,” you announce. “Are you fine with me taking care of her, mother?” 

“I’ll consider it,” muses Jihyo, tilting her chin up. “If you explain what’s the meaning of this?” 

“I found her lost in the landscape. When I asked her, she told me that she just appeared there.” You say, seeing Yeji scoot further and further past your arm. “Makes me think she’s the same as us.” 

“Maybe.” Jihyo tilts her head to get a better look, motioning her hand for Yeji to walk forward. “Here, my darling. Don’t be afraid.” 

Yeji acknowledges, her eyes tired to the ground. She looks back and you nod in assurance, taking another step forward in front of your mother. Jihyo rubs her thumb over the bridge of her nose. Yeji then inhales sharply, causing Jihyo to smile in approval. “By the Gods. The energy budding within her is similar to ours. Fascinating.” 

You smile, astonished. “In what way?” Watching as Jihyo smiles down at Yeji, shifting it over to you now. 

“She’s the same as you, a god like us.” 

Born out of blood, out of war. 

Your face is filled with excitement. “I have ideas for her, if that’s okay.” 

Jihyo palms Yeji’s face, standing up soon after. She grabs your hand and hers, pulling them from the battle, the odor still prominent from the long hours. “She’ll stay with us, don’t worry.” Jihyo tells you. “As for your requests, we’ll save those for a future discussion.” 

–

Yeji recites the Covenant three days later. 

Following the ceremony, she jumps into Jihyo’s arms, high on spirits. “I want to do more.” 

“I’m not understanding,” chuckles Jihyo, combing Yeji’s hair and taps her back. “What do you mean by more?” 

“When they said infinity.” 

“Are you aware of what the commitment is?”

“Lady Yuna pulled me aside earlier and shared the proposition,” Yeji explains, slightly sulking. Her palms clap together like a prayer. “Oh Goddess Jihyo. Please. Please, let me-” 

You can only stand and watch her beg to your mother, vision turning foggy. Anger boils in your veins; brain clouded with resentment. 

Only a few goddesses have sworn to partake in the Covenant. The meaning - still foreign to your ideals, but it’s one that’s against intimacy, connections, and love. Jeongyeon was one who came to mind - taking the oath; recalling the time after a date with death you refuse to believe is true coming from her. 

“Think of it as insurance,” Jihyo said to you as she coaxed you to sleep on her lap. “A reminder of what we must do. To stay focused. To have no distractions.” 

(Part of you wants to be against it. You could be the one- you are the one for her. You could give her everything she ever desired, but it’s daunting for her not to know-) 

“You can,” says Jihyo, burying her nose into her hair, cupping her face soon after. “I can grant your long-awaited wish.” 

“Yes.” 

“If you’re willing to accept the responsibilities.” 

“Which I do.” 

“Very well then.” Jihyo’s voice booms, and the audience erupts. Yeji tightly hugs Jihyo while you stand frozen. Just to be prompted for a reaction by Lia tapping your shoulder. She looks confused when you lock eyes with her, filled with a growing rage.