All I Know
A candle burning at an altar was no rare occurrence in town.
That is to say, it was just as common an occurrence as breathing or blinking. The gods received prayers and offerings so often, none of them bothered to listen anymore, at least until they grew too loud to ignore. Until the shouts of the masses grew so deafening that they could no longer be ignored.
Mobius tended to light candles that burned over green wax, and he lit them at the foot of the Story God’s statue every day without fail. The flame would burn orange as he prayed for an end to the tragedies that plagued himself and those he’d loved.
He prayed for the story to be rewritten.
One evening, after dinner, the man went to complete his usual routine: light a candle, pray to the god of mischief and stories, blow out the candle, and go home.
So he lit the candle, kneeling at the foot of the statue.
The statue was limestone, and was incredibly worn out from erosion. The god of mischief did not have too many worshippers. Not like Thor, or Odin, or even Hela, for goodness sakes.
In Mobius’ opinion, the god of stories had something those gods did not. The ability to change things for better or worse. So he prayed to him, and it brought him good fortune. He’d been able to secure a job, and a place to sleep at night, without too many tragedies. He wasn’t sure if that was all because of his prayers, but he was willing to believe. But his loneliness was the thing that he needed to be changed the most.
The poor man’s prayers often consisted of the same words, but this time, he decided to change it up.
“Bring me someone to love.”
The candle’s orange flame turned fully black and burned like a raging wildfire. Laughter came from the clouds above, almost joyful, and the sky darkened.
Mobius, stumbling back and falling on his ass, believed for a moment that he might’ve summoned Surtur.
Until someone tapped on his shoulder with a slight chuckle.
“Hello, my dear. I heard you were lonely?”