Chapter Text
The basement of the zodiac church on 8th street is not exactly the fanciest room. Its gray-carpeted flooring bears the stains and scuffs of hundreds of shoes, its fluorescent bulbs make your head hurt when you stare directly at them, and its shrine is one of those cheap paper rotating ones with the gods’ symbols and sigils and not much else. Really, it’s kind of a pathetic place of worship. But this is where the church youth group meets, the preteens and teenagers of the congregation gathering every Zakhday after school for religious discussion and services.
Your name is John Egbert, and you turned fourteen about a week ago. You’ve been going to these church meetings for several months now, and you love it, tacky paper shrine and everything. You’ve never really had friends, before this. You were always a bit of a weirdo at school, not even the class clown (as you'd always aspired to be). You’ve endured your share of bullying by schoolmates, but mostly you’re just kind of ignored.
It's different, here.
Unlike the regular daily service, the god in focus at the youth group changes every week. Today’s prayer session is to the Seer of Mind, and they’ve cleared the chairs to make an open space for worship. You don’t think the Seer is your favorite, but you’ve decided you still like her service, since you get to move your body around while you pray. Worshipping the Seer involves a kind of directed, moving meditation, which is supposed to focus your vital energy and calm your thoughts.
You don’t have to worship the Seer, of course. There’s no rule about it, if you’d prefer to direct your prayers to another god that day. But because most of the others follow the schedule, you do too. It makes you feel like you belong.
Gabe, a junior from the local high school, is leading today’s service. He’s guiding the group as you move awkwardly from one pose to another, and occasionally he reads excerpts from the prayer book. You can tell some of the other kids have been doing this since they were really little, but you’ve only done it maybe once before, so you’re less than adept. But no one makes fun of you or points out that you’re lifting the wrong foot or your shoulders are too tight or whatever. At least not out loud.
“…and the community came together, and said, ‘we shall cast out the evil men and women from our midst, as we cast the evil thoughts from our head,’ and this was justice, and this was rightness…” Gabe droned on.
You probably shouldn’t be thinking so much during this service. The point is to calm your thoughts and let them simply flow away. You are… not so great at that.
Still, it is relaxing. Not all the services are. The Knight’s services can be pretty intense, and that’s to say nothing of the Bard’s! You still think that the Page’s are your favorite, even though they have to set up a fan to get any wind down here in the basement.
“…and with clear head and clear eyes, I turn to you, Seer of Mind, for your most worthy of judgments in all the heavens. Amen.”
Gabe closes the book, and rubs one of his eyes with his fist. “Okay everyone, that concludes the worship for today, let’s bring the chairs back, huh?”
You and the other members of the youth group sigh and stretch, and eventually you all manage to get the tables and chairs set back up. Gabe sits at the head of the table and brings out a piece of paper.
“Okay. Today’s discussion topic: why do we pray?” Gabe smiles slightly, and leans forward. “Anyone?”
The discussion, like most of the post-worship discussions, is not particularly conclusive. You don’t have much to add to it, though you do give it a few moments of thought. Why do you pray? You don’t have much to ask for. You’re pretty content. You have your friends here in church, and you have Colonel Sassacre back home, and you have your movie collection if you ever get bored. You guess you could thank the gods, or affirm them, or maybe pray on behalf of someone else. You rest your chin in your hand and pick at the varnish on the table, half-listening while a sophomore talks about praying for good grades.
The discussion lasts about a half hour, and then the meeting is officially over. You usually hang around after to chat with the other kids, but this time Gabe interrupts before anyone leaves.
“I have a very special announcement,” he says. “The Art Museum in Spokane is opening up a new wing on intergalactic artists in a few weeks, and none other than the Sylph of Space herself will be there to consecrate the opening. And I just so happen to have tickets to the event!”
Wait, you could get to see a goddess? A real goddess, not just the symbol on a piece of paper, and like, in person? Meet her? Shake her hand? You’re not sure how to feel about this.
Everyone begins talking at once, chattering to each other excitedly.
“Ok, ok!” calls Gabe, and claps his hands to get everyone’s attention. “I know you’re all excited, but guys, shoosh, listen up. Space is limited, so you need to get a parent’s or guardian’s signature on one of these waivers-”
Oh. Oh.
You won’t be seeing a real goddess. There is no freaking way that your dad will sign one of those. Ha ha.
You take one anyway, because everyone else does, then climb the stairs out of the basement. Once you’re outside, Anna, a girl in your grade with short, mousy-brown hair, approaches you. “This is so exciting!” she gushes. “I can’t believe it, Spokane is only a few hours away!”
You’ve spoken to Anna a few times before. You know that she goes to private school and likes to sing. “Yeah,” you say, and sigh dramatically. “I will actually be a few hours away from a goddess.”
She frowns. “Don’t be like that, John! I'm sure there'll be room for you!”
You shake your head. “There is no way my dad will let me go.”
“You sure? It’s not that far.”
“It’s not that.” You rub the back of your neck, and look away from Anna. “Dad is an atheist. He doesn’t even know I come here.”
Anna stares. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, seriously. He never even let me go trick or treating. How lame is that? What kind of dad won’t let their kid go out for Hallowhonk?”
Anna blinks in surprise. “Oh wow, you’re serious. That’s awful!”
You smile. “It’s okay. I really like it here. It’s fun to learn about gods and stuff. Anyway,” you chuckle. “Dad thinks I go to bowling club after school.”
You both share a laugh about that, but Anna still looks like she’s feeling sorry for you. “Look,” she says. “Why don’t you just tell your dad that you’ve found meaning in worship?”
You shake your head. “No way. He wouldn’t understand.”
“Oh,” she says. “That’s too bad.” You both stand there for a moment. Anna looks at her shoes. Then, she smiles. “Well, if he ever changes his mind, you can, you know, come over to my house for Passover, maybe?”
“Dude, that would be awesome,” you say, “But I don’t think that is ever going to happen.”
Anna sighs. “Okay. Wish me luck in getting a seat?”
“Good luck, Anna,” you say, and she leaves.
On the way home on the bus, you read the waiver. It’s just the usual brouhaha. List your food allergies and emergency contacts, no liability in case you wander off and get lost, etc.
Your dad is so stupid. This is an opportunity of a lifetime! Not everyone gets to meet the gods. This could be life changing and he’s just…
Well, he’s a hypocrite, for one. Your home has no shrine and you never observe religious holidays or anything, but he collects clowns. Yeah, clowns. If your dad isn’t secretly longing for the Dark Carnival, you’ll eat your glasses.
But still, you’re not going to show him the waiver. Even if you do, and even if he somehow doesn't ground you for going to church behind his back, and even if he signs it, they'll probably run out of space before you get in. The whole thing is stupid.
You look out the window of the bus, at the buildings rolling past. Maybe if you pretend the waiver was for something else? Or maybe if you forge his signature? Can you do that?
Maybe you should have used today’s prayer session to ask for guidance. Except, of course, you didn’t know about the field trip at the beginning.
You crumple the waiver in your fist, and throw it away.
You arrive at your house. There was no car in the driveway, which means Dad isn’t home from work yet, which is to be expected. You grab the house key from its hiding place under the light fixture, and walk in.
You freeze in place. There’s someone in the living room, sitting facing away from you, on the couch. It’s not your dad. You can see two horns, bright vibrant orange, sticking out like traffic cones from perfectly cut holes in the intruder’s green hood.
“Hello, John.”
The intruder, who sounds like a woman, does not turn to look at you. Everything you’ve learned about the gods seems to have flown out of your mind. You can’t think straight. This can’t be real. This has to be a prank.
“1T’S NOT 4 PR4NK, JOHN. TH1S 1S FOR R34L.”
Her… her voice. It raises goosebumps all along your arms, and makes you see teal on the backs of your eyelids. There is no way that wasn’t a divine voice.
You don’t know what to say. What can you say? What are you supposed to say when you meet a goddess? Your frazzled brain is trying to remember which goddess has the sacred color of teal.
“Um.” You swallow. “Hi.”
“Come here, John,” she says, with a normal, un-colorful voice. “Have a seat.”
You comply, and sit on the reclining chair across from the couch.
She’s just sitting there, wearing the green hood and the robe with her sigil in blue-green: a circle with three curved lines radiating from its edge. Her skin is gray, her hair black. Her hood covers her eyes and she’s not showing her wings, but you’ve figured out who she is, now that you see the sigil.
The Seer of Mind smiles politely, and flips a coin with one hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you, John.” She catches the coin.
“Um,” you say. “Does my dad know you are here?”
Shit, that was a really dumb thing to say.
She smiles, more broadly this time. “I’ve heard dumber.”
Oh gods oh gods. She can read your mind.
“And no,” she goes on. “He doesn’t know. Let’s keep it that way, for now.”
She flips the coin again. You try to remember how you're supposed to treat important guests.
“So, uh, what can I do for you, Seer of Mind? You want anything to drink? We have uh, coke, and milk, and coffee.”
You’re staring. Stop staring.
The Seer of Mind tilts her head up so you can see her sunglasses, and the red sightless eyes behind them. “Cherry Coke,” she says, and you jump to your feet to get her some.
You run, maybe too fast, to the kitchen. You can’t believe this. This is crazy and intense and way too weird. It’s like meeting Nick Cage, but way more so. They’ll never believe you in church.
You quickly grab a can of cherry coke and run back to the living room, realizing too late that you probably should have offered ice, too. Shoot.
You give the goddess her coke. Instead of opening it with the tab, she rips a hole straight through the metal with her teeth.
You freeze. You’re not going to lie, that was pretty badass. And terrifying.
She drinks for several seconds while you just stand there, then says; “Don't worry about stocking up on the Coke. I'll bring my own next time."
Did she just imply what you think she did? “Next time?” you ask.
She smiles, sharp teeth like a shark. “You sound like you're not looking forward to it. Don't you like me?"
Oh. Shit. “Uh, not to be ungrateful, Lady Justice. I guess I am just a little nervous. How can I help you?”
She flips her coin and catches it with one hand, still sipping on the coke with the other.
“Everyone starts getting weekly visits from their favorite deity when they turn fourteen, didn’t you know?”
Your mouth falls open. They didn’t tell you that, but-
“You are joking with me,” you say. “That definitely does not happen at all.”
The goddess frowns, and a chill goes up your spine. “Are you implying that a goddess would lie to you?” she says. “Have a little shame, John Egbert.”
You hold up your hands defensively. “No! No, no, that’s not what I meant! Joking is not the same as lying, because everyone knows when you are joking. Or, they find out really soon.”
“So, in that case, let us consider the evidence, John,” says the Seer, once again showing fangs. “If I am not here as a matter of course, why would I be here? In your house? Just for you?”
And before you answer, she goes on; “It’s not to dispense parental permission slips, I can assure you.”
Well, you weren’t going to ask for that. You wanted to meet a goddess and here she is, so maybe she’s here to answer your prayers that way? Or maybe…
“I didn’t pray or anything during worship today,” you confess. “Are you angry because of that?”
“Yes, John,” she replies. “I personally make it my business to punish those who are too lazy to pray. It is clearly the best use of my time.”
You chuckle nervously. You think maybe you’re starting to get a handle on the goddess’ sense of humor. “Okay, I guess I’m lost, then. I give up. Why are you here?”
The Seer flips the coin and catches it. “There are several ways I can answer that question. There is a god in your house because you are very special. I am in your house also because you are very special. But these are two different kinds of special. Put another way, some of us gods are interested in you, John, because you have a grand destiny before you. And, being interested, we want to make sure you don’t fuck it up. But me? I’m here because I think you’re fascinating.”
Your mouth falls open slightly. What? There has to be a mistake here.
The Seer continues, flipping the coin again. “John, there have been a few times, in the past fourteen years, when you have surprised me. These times are few and far between, but they exist. I know you don’t have any real appreciation of what that means, but let me say it again: I cannot predict your actions one hundred percent of the time. And, destiny aside, that makes you a very interesting person.”
You swallow. This is totally crazy, but also kind of awesome. “Well,” you say, after taking a few minutes to absorb the Seer’s words. “I was not expecting to be told that I had a grand destiny when I woke up this morning.”
She nods in acknowledgment.
“So…” You trail off. “What is it? Am I going to be the best comedian in the galaxy?”
“Just one galaxy?” she says, arching an eyebrow. “That’s as far as you’ll let your dreams take you?”
You rub the back of your neck. You can’t seem to say anything right in this conversation. “I have never been off world,” you venture as an excuse.
The Seer catches her coin. “Let me put it like this. If you do what you're supposed to, then an entire universe might regard you as the greatest comedic genius to ever live. In fact, and I'm not exaggerating, you may even go so far as to define comedy from that point on.”
“What?” That doesn’t make any sense to you. “Are you joking? You’re sure it’s me? Because I do not know if you have ever read Colonel Sassacre, but he is pretty definitive on comedy-” No, stop. You sound like an idiot.
The Seer’s voice is low and quiet. “Future generations will only know of Colonel Sassacre because you tell them about him.”
You blink. People will forget about Sassacre? You’re not sure how to feel about that.
“Are you beginning to grasp the weight of your destiny?” the Seer asks.
You steeple your fingers and look at them. “Maybe? I guess I am still kind of getting used to the fact that the Seer of Mind is in my living room, heh...”
“Well get used to it, John Egbert!” The goddess stands up abruptly, and whoa, she’s tall. She steps close, way too close, and then you’re looking directly into her face, the divine gray skin and the red eyes. When she speaks, you can feel the goddess’ breath on your skin. “You’re going to be seeing a whole lot more of me.”
Okay, this is an invasion of your personal space. You swallow. “Oh. Gosh. I’m honored.”
She’s still too close. “You haven’t asked about the catch, John. I didn’t expect you to, but you really should.”
Oh. “What’s the catch?”
She smiles again, her teeth mere inches from your nose. “You are not to pray to any of the other gods, under any circumstances. You will not write about them, nor will you speak their names and titles.”
Oh. Shit. You won’t be able to go to church, then. You won’t be able to see your friends. You’ll have to tell them somehow, but if you can’t TELL them…
“I do not require that you pray to me,” the Seer goes on. “I just need to know if, despite your unpredictability, you can follow instructions and keep secrets.”
“Wait,” you start, but the Seer interrupts.
“There is another option, of course.” She steps back, giving you back your personal space, and flips her coin. “I can leave, and we can pretend this never happened. We never met. We’ll never meet again.” She smiles, this time without showing teeth. “I know what you're going to say, of course. But that doesn’t mean it’s not your choice.”
You blink. She’s giving you a choice? I mean, she IS a goddess, and it would really not be a smart thing to say no.
“Well,” you say. “I think this is just about the most amazing thing that's ever happened, I just, wow, I feel like I'm about to be punk’d or something, or like I'm dreaming. I’m not dreaming though, there is no way I would dream up something like this.”
The Seer just waits for you, and you take a deep breath. “Okay, I will do it. If it’s my destiny or whatever.”
She smiles. “Then just remember. This was your choice, John.”
You swallow. That sounds really ominous.
The Seer turns, and opens the door to the outside. Then, without looking at you, she says, “Also, do think about how you're going to explain this to your father.”
“Huh?” You're very confused now. “I thought I wasn’t supposed to tell him about this?”
She shakes her head, still facing away. “No, but you're going to do a terrible job of keeping this a secret from him. He's smarter than you think he is.” She moves a hand up to adjust her hood. “You have four months, one week, and three days before he confronts you.”
And then, before you can reply, teal butterfly wings unfurl from her shoulders, much wider than the doorway. She steps outside, and is gone in the space of blinking.
You stare at the empty doorway for several long moments before you realize you forgot to ask her for an autograph.