Misha

Being a deity in a universe where your world and the human world intersect is quite difficult. Many people fear people like you, because little was known about deities at that time. And it was difficult for deities to interact with humans, too. They were too fragile compared to you and easily harmed.

Misha was one of those. He was about six years old when you took him under your wing after a terrible fire in his village. He was the only survivor, which was amazing.

You raised Misha as if he were your own son. He was obedient and smart. He loved to figure out all sorts of little mechanisms, like little watches. You knew that one day he would learn that the fire in the village was your fault. So you humbly awaited that day. Which came on his eighteenth birthday.

As you walked away from him down the temple stairs, your gaze lowered to the floor, he tried to catch up with you. A shadow of resentment gleamed in his starry violet eyes, and his words, unusually loud for him, seemed to cut right through his soul.

“Why?!” the boy cried out, trying to catch up with you. “Why did you burn down my village?!”