Immortal *short story by HolliBerry*

"Goddess, come forth," the man growled. He was no more then thirty cycles old, most likely much less, as he stood in the midst of an empty field. The full moon and a dying fire were the only sources of light as the man held a small figure close to his body. It was struggling, trying to break free, a gleaming knife against its neck. "Come forth or I shall kill your child."

The child snarled and lashed her arms, trying to escape from the man, but he only held her tighter. Wisps of pale hair fell to the ground with drops of blood. Her movements only caused the knife to run along her body and hair. The man yanked her, the blade stabbing into her shoulder. She cried out and her hand rushed to the wound, hoping to stop the bloodflow. She appeared no older then eight cycles, though it was impossible to tell the true age of a goddess.

How the man had captured the child was unknown, but even she trembled from the power emitted from his dark soul. His eyes were empty, scarred with lies and murder just as his arms were scarred with wounds from her scratching claws. The girl was changing now, attempting to escape by morphing, but the man still held tight. She became a rabbit and a fawn, a bear and a hawk. Shape after shape, she writhed her body, but the man still held on. Finally, the child grew tired. She settled on the form of a wolf cub; the man took her by the scruff of her neck and held her over his head.

"Call to your mother," he sneered. The child could do nothing but obey. She howled and whined, straining her head upward while the man held the dagger to her breast.

~Leave my child,~ the man heard from the forest. The tone echoed, and the man grinned. ~Leave my child or I shall destroy you.~

The dark man turned to face the protector of the wood. She approached him, silver robes spun of spider thread cascading around her pale body. She held her hands outward, reaching for the weak girl, but the man held her back. Anger flashed across the woman's face and she shook her head. Her white-blonde hair swirled around her body, growing short and silver. She too became a wolf, her body molding into that of a fierce huntress.

The man wavered for a second, but continued to hold the dagger to the cub's heart. She approached him, her teeth bared, and spoke again, ~Leave my child, mortal. ~

"No," he answered, "not until you give me what I want."

The goddess growled and lunged towards the man. He held out the dagger and closed his eyes as a piercing scream cut through the air. When he opened them, he saw the goddess human again. Her robes were no longer silver, but crimson where a wound had been slashed across her shoulder. The man grinned, having wounded a god, as the woman stood up.

~What is it you want,~ she asked. The man returned the dagger to its place over the immortal child.

"I want you to make me a sorcerer, I want your power," he supplied. "I want to be a God."

~Never,~ she growled.

"Then your child shall die," he spoke harshly and spat at the Goddess. She faltered for a moment, but remained in her place. Her hands clutched her shoulder, just as her child had done minutes ago, as a tear slid down her cheek.

"A goddess is crying?" the man laughed, misreading her emotion. "You can save your child if you give me what I want."

~Never,~ she repeated. This time the man stepped backward, shock on his face. Surely the goddess would want her child to live? But again, she did not move. The man looked at the cub, and the dagger in his hand before taking a deep breath. Anger forced itself into his empty eyes as he plunged the blade into the child's flesh, through her slowing heart. The girl let out a soft cry when she tumbled onto the field ground. Her body changed again to it's original form as she gasped for breath. The man stepped back, his hands bloody, and stared at the child. His hands were bloody, stained crimson, and his dagger remained in the child's chest.

He bent down to pull the knife out, but suddenly felt the cold eyes of the Goddess. She glared at him and reached her hand forward. The man stood up straight and stepped back. He stumbled on a root and fell on his back, the Goddess standing over him. She held out her hand and energy began to fill the air. The man's eyes widened and he tried to push away, but the weeds and roots in the field grabbed and tore at his body. They continued to grow, choking him, as the Goddess commanded. Slowly, the man felt his life drain into the flora around him. His body shriveled and decayed as insects discovered the succulent flesh. He felt tiny legs and teeth tear over his appendages as the moonlight disappeared behind a tangle of weeds and vines that covered his face. He tried to scream, but the vines continued, traveling down his throat and through him.

The Goddess left the man to die as she crossed the field to her daughter. He was unimportant, only a wretched mortal who had dared to hurt her child.

The girl lay motionless in a pool of crimson liquid that reflected the bright moonlight. The Goddess reached into the child and pulled out the knife and placed it on the ground. It too rusted and fell into the earth. The child coughed, blood dripping from her lips. The woman took her hand and helped her to her feet as she opened her eyes and gasped in the night air.

The child laughed and her mother kissed her face softly. The two walked back into the wood, disappearing into the night, while the melodious chirping of crickets overshadowed the struggling of the mortal.

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