Random stories

At the highest peak of the world sat a lone sanctuary, built of the purest marble, nearly indistinguishable from the undisturbed snow on the mountaintop. Legends say that the sanctuary is home to the strongest hero to ever see the light of day: a saviour, a god, a traveler of the many magical planes beyond the one that most call their home. Nobody knows his true appearance, save for the fact that he is a swordsman, rumoured to wield a blade carved from the very cosmos itself.

Many had dared to climb up the peak to seek an audience with the Stargazer, as he was called. Kings sent out messengers, parties of adventurers battled their way to the top, yet all were met with silence. The doors of the sanctuary stayed forever closed.

So, gifts were brought. At first, simple items of prayer: candles, incense burners, small wooden idols, all to no avail. So, the offers increased exponentially in opulence: coins of silver, gold and platinum, swords made by the finest smiths, perhaps to appease the deific entity that lived here to add to his repetoire, suits of armour made to match the blade made out of the cosmos. Magical artefacts were no exception, some so powerful that they could solve whatever problem the souls, desperate to see the Stargazer in the flesh, may have had in the first place. Even to this, the doors of the sanctuary stayed forever closed.

Admiration turned to desperation, as the offers were picked up from the ground, the snow was wiped off, and instead were used in an attempt to break open the doors. 'If you won't come out willingly, we'll break this temple apart and seize your power for ourself!' they must have said. Fireballs, beams of holy light, blades that could cut through steel as though it was butter, nothing worked. The doors of the sanctuary stayed forever closed.

The plan to see the god, as well as the hope that he may solve some trivial political matter for self-obsessed kings, was abandoned. Thus, the sanctuary was left undisturbed one more, and the doors of the sanctuary stayed forever closed.

One day, a child came climbing up the mountain, boots trudging through the snow in an angry manner, her face obscured from sight and protected from the snow by a thick layer of fur. Even though the tears on her face may have been warm at some point, they were now all but frozen: crystallized frustration and hurt. Though the air was frigid, the surn burned upon what little skin was exposed here, so she sought shelter in the shadow of the sanctuary, sitting upon its stairs before finally catching her breath. Suddenly a noise rang out, a low growl. Was it a bear, a snow leopard, some other predator which her mother had so often warned her about, forcing her to stay inside? No, it was just her stomach. Luckily she had throught of this predicament and rummaged through her backpack, fishing out two chocolate bars which she had snatched before running off. As the child unwrapped the first bar, she looked up at the two massive doors which she was sitting against.

"They say yours doors are always closed," she mumbled to herself, "but does that mean you never go out to buy food?" She took a piece of chocolate- frozen solid- and put it in her mouth, slowly feeling it melt. "You must be hungry..." The girl looked down at her lap, taking one of the two treats, and slid it under the door. "There you go!"

Then, one of the doors gave way. A man peeked outside, his hair stark white and eyes sharp, wearing surprisingly casual clothes. He looked no older than thirty, nothing like she had expected of a god. A sheathed sword hung at his hip. He took a step outside and sat down by the child.

"You left this for me?" He asked.

"Are you-- I-I mean, yes?"

"How kind of you."

"N-No problem..!" She laughed. For a moment the two of them sat in silence, eating chocolate.

"So, why are you here?"

"O-Oh, me, it's just..." Tears began to form in the corners of her eyes. "Just, a fight."

"A war?" The man sounded dire.

"Not like that, just. Dad gets mad at mom, I don't wanna see her hurt, then dad gets mad at me, and mom gets mad at dad, and-- and it's just a big mess, hah..." She gave a brief, awkward laugh, hoping to relief some of the tension.

"That does not sound like you can solve that by yourself." He looked down at the child, but she was quivering. Was it the cold, was it sadness, or perhaps something deeper?

He pushed himself up and reached a hand out. "You must be cold, come on inside. I'll get us some tea."

"Thank you..." she took his hand and walked inside, as the doors of the sanctuary closed themselves once more.

\[1/4\]

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Submitted by Twilo101 on Mon, Sep 19, 2022 to /r/WritingPrompts/

The prompt

There have been many sacrifices made to summon you, as well as a plethora of motives - from the extreme, to the simplistic, to the downright absurd. But one particular sacrifice catches your eye: a young child simply offering you a bar of chocolate, claiming that you, a deity, must be "hungry".