Scattered Stars

The voice echoed in the vastness of the In-Between, brimming with that rare impatience and barely-contained rage. The goddess wished she could say she was surprised, but she wasn’t. She was rarely surprised by anything anymore, and being the deity of Space made her overly aware of the location and comings and goings of anything and everything. She’d felt him coming as soon as he’d deigned to move, and she knew all too well why he was here.

After all, her most recent bout of fun had been a message just for him. It was by no means her first, either.

Plastering the kind of insufferable grin she knew would piss him off most, she pivoted on her heel and faced Arli, the God of Time. His eyes---black sclera, white pupils, like all the other Gods---were burning with that oh-so-glorious anger. 

“Oh, Arli! I’m so glad you could make it. I was worried you wouldn’t come,” she cooed in velvet-soft tones, as if he were near-late for a date. Her eyes twinkled with amusement, and she knew she’d succeeded as she saw that lovely caramel skin begin to bloom with crimson.

“Fix it,” was all he deigned to reply. She put on a pout.

“Fix what? I haven’t done anything.”

Oh, that expression. He was mad, alright. She counted herself lucky that she was the deity borne of fire; she had no doubt he’d roast her then and there if he’d had the ability to do so. In fact, if looks could kill, she might’ve died a few too many times already.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, you heathen,” he hissed, his hands balled into fists at his sides. He must’ve been trying his damnedest to keep from laying a finger on her. The poor fool.

Zuli pretended to think, tapping a finger on her chin lightly. Her cerulean flame-hair flickered, as if to accentuate her thoughtfulness. Arli drew in a sharp breath, as if preparing to argue with her on just what she’d done. She could barely contain her smile.

“Oh!” she gasped suddenly, playing at making a grand revelation. “You must mean that lovely planet I’d messed with.”

“Messed with?” he asked incredulously, his face flushed as he glared his hatred. “You ruined it! No, you more than ruined it. You damned it. And you screwed its timeline to hell, which you know you’re not supposed to do.”

Well, he certainly wasn’t wrong. What she’d done to that planet... Oh, she knew many, many governments in the universe would put her to death for that kind of destruction. Warping half of the wildlife into pure monstrosities, letting them devour the remainder and wreak havoc. Setting hellflame lose, letting chaos reign...

Some might’ve called it a Hell on Earth. She called it entertainment.

Again, that pout. “I was only trying to have some fun. Eternity is dreadfully boring.”

Briefly, Arli closed his eyes, this time inhaling deeply. Calming himself, presumably. When he looked at her again, it was filled with ice, his face stony.

“Fix it.”

She dropped the pout, eyeing him now with mischievous curiosity. “What? No great lecture? No tirade about how our godhood is a job, not meant for fun and frivolity?”

He only gritted his teeth. “I’ve lectured you enough. I don’t have time to indulge you anymore. Just get on with it.”

“Oh, that’s rich,” she laughed, throwing her head back. “The God of Time no longer has time for me! What glorious irony.”

“Zuli---”

“Yes, yes, I’ll fix it,” she interrupted, waving her hand dismissively. “You can stop making your silly demands now.”

He bristled at her tone, but said nothing, watching her expectantly. With a dramatic sigh, Zuli made a show of lifting her hand and snapping her fingers. She felt the magic answer her call eagerly, making off to deliver her demands with obedience and care.

“There,” she hummed, her smile placating. “All done.”

Without another word, Arli disappeared, apparently satisfied. She let the smile drop, indifference smoothing out her features once more. That hadn’t been as fun as she’d hoped. She was beginning to lose ways to keep herself interested.

As it stood, living just didn’t hold its appeal anymore. 

She’d long since turned from do-good behavior to entropy as a means to keep herself from going insane. Perhaps she’d already gone insane, and simply failed to recognize it. She wasn’t sure. 

All she knew was that she couldn’t keep going on like this. Immortality, ironically, was going to be the death of her. She was hanging on by a thread.

She needed to find an heir.