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Today is my birthday.
It is my birthday, and I am old. Well, I suppose being five isn’t that old, but still, if I was a less proud creature, I’d probably be sulking about. But I am old enough to remember. Things weren’t fantastic with our gods growing corrupted by their power, but those had been better times than this. Our land has grown wild in the seasons following their disappearance, and it disgusts me that no one has claimed their thrones and returned peace to our once beautiful lands. Great portals had torn open our sky, and many had left, retreated, abandoned their home, and I hated them for it. I hated them, and they deserved to be crushed, and have the lowest of creatures pick their bones clean. They deserved reincarnation, so their new shiny bodies could be trampled, and the cycle would repeat. And those damned Helovians, how they had struck down our gods, destroyed any chance we had of restoring them to their glory, it makes me sick just thinking of their smiling faces, their bastard children, how they sing and dance and fuck under a warm sun and cloudless skies. But no, I can’t think of that, because it will ruin this neutral bored mood I’ve embraced today, because it is my birthday, and like hell I’m going to let a foul mood ruin what little joy remains. The three years that had crawled past have left me tired, and I’m sure my sister would agree. She was young when everything had happened, but if she is as clever as she is beautiful, she will remember.
We will always remember.
But, regardless, this anniversary of my springing from the womb of some whore has been bland. I am bored, so insufferably bored, so me and my sister find ourselves wandering around, trying to find some fun. We’ve found little success hunting this day, as if all of the small creatures of our land have found something better to do, so we just leisurely stroll through the shadows, the neon lights casting our shadows long before us.
“Tell me, sister,” I croon, never deviating my watchful eyes from the path before us, “How am I possibly expected to enter my sixth year of life in such a mundane way? Honestly, things just seem to get more and more monotonous. Nothing left to hunt, none left to play games with. What are two sisters to do?”
As if the deceased deities have heard my prayers, the air seems to quiver, to groan, and gods if this is death I am so ready. Anything to spare me from another moment of aimless ambling. Screams, flashes of light, names screamed into the nothingness, gaping portals appearing through the trees. A smile spreads across my face, and my smile, jagged canines and all, are probably flashing dangerously white. The forest comes alive for the first time in years, and I am ready.
This time my eyes meet Delia’s, and I don’t attempt to hide my excitement. “What do you say, Delia, should we go greet our newly arrived guests?” But before she can answer I’m already off, trotting happily through the darkened brush, and the glimmering eyes watch me from within their shadows.
Today is my birthday, and this is the best gift of all.
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The Portal
