The floor of their shack is now covered in the sleeping forms of its inhabitants. Every inch of space filled with a person or their sparce bedding. Rosco is warm and quite cozy, nestled between Sam and Yewin. Yewin had been pissed at him for borrowing his shirt and failing to get paid. Rosco’s not sure which part his foster brother was more upset by, but he hadn’t left any new marks on Rosco’s skin so maybe he wasn’t too angry. Unhurt and cozy as he was, Rosco was still unable to sleep. He had managed to fend off most of his housemates’ questions with a flimsy explanation that the nobleman he’d gone with turned out to be shady and he’d had to run or get caught up in something unsavory. Lolly had a lot of rules for the kids she took in but staying out of unsavory business was one of the few rules she’d throw someone out for breaking.

His curiosity and impulsive nature had gotten him into a heap of potential trouble today. Not only had he talked to a water spirit posing as a god, but he’d met a real god and then promptly yelled at him. He ran his hands down his face again at the sheer stupidity of it. The god he’d yelled at was well known to be vengeful and quick to anger. In the old stories his name was synonymous with death. In fact, death was the only name anyone knew him by. He was lucky to be alive. He was lucky in a lot of ways.

Oh gods, he’d forgotten to give Lolly that kiss on the cheek.

Shifting on his bed roll, Rosco looked over to where Lolly lay sleeping with the drooling baby at her side. The yet to be named baby girl was the youngest but not the newest addition to Lolly’s household. The newest was a 7-year-old boy sleeping near Rosco’s feet. The kid had lost his parents at the end of winter and was still crying himself to sleep every night. The poor thing had only just fallen quiet a moment ago.

Rosco had been younger when Lolly took him in. He still had a vague memory of his mother shoving him towards the temple ruins. He’d cried and clung to her skirt. He didn’t want to go alone, but his mother had pushed him into the dirt and vanished before he could follow. He’d sat there crying just inside the temple grounds until Lolly had come along and beckoned him out.

Rosco shot up straight in his bed, breath coming in short bursts. He carefully navigated his way through the maze of sleeping bodies. Slipping out into the cold without stopping for a coat or shoes. Free of the human minefield, Rosco raced around to the back of the house, crossing the thin expanse of grass that separated the homes from the temple grounds. Feet coming to an abrupt halt at the edge of the boundary.

Mouth working faster than his brain, “You didn’t kill me!” he called into the still of night. For a moment the only sound was his still puffing breath, misting in the chill. Just about long enough for Rosco to feel like a fool for shouting at nothing.

 “While running off was quite rude, I hardly find it worthy of a death sentence.”

The sound of Hayden’s voice startling him even though he had been expecting it, jumping slightly as the god stepped out from behind a fallen wall, walking closer.

“N-not now,” he stuttered, shivering from more than the cold, “before, when I was little.” breath catching in his throat as the god came to a stop before him.

The silvery moonlight settled on his features, casting shadows and highlighting his face perfectly, bathing him in softness and mystery. Seeing him in the sun or the orange glow of lamps had done him an injustice. It was clear now, that showered in moonlight was how the god was meant to be viewed. Gods he was beautiful, ethereal, to a degree he felt unreal, untouchable, and yet so close.

“You did not seem deserving of a death sentence then either,” The god said softly. It was difficult to distinguish if his expression was one of sympathy or pity.

“What about all the others?” the boy asked, eyeing the tumbling ruins at the god’s back.

All the softness in the god’s face hardened, leaving his expression blank and cold, “Do you question my judgment or my right to judge?”

Rosco bit at his lip, unsure how to answer, “I don’t know,” He admitted after a while.

Hayden chuckled and his expression relaxed, “I thank you for the honesty.” corners of his bright eyes crinkling in a smile, “was that all you came to say, or did you wish to yell at me some more?”

Being reminded of the yelling has Rosco shrinking back, fear biting at the back of his throat, “Please forgive my outburst. I uh-” desperately reaching for something to justify his behavior and coming up short. He offers the god a sort of apologetic shrug, biting his lip in annoyance, his mouth is always letting him down.

“It’s alright,” Hayden soothed, settling his hand atop Rosco’s hair again, “As I said before, your anger was justified.” playfully tugging at his loose strands, “though I did not expect you to come looking for me again after such a display.”

“I didn’t plan to,” the boy admits with a bashful chuckle, basking in the warmth of the god’s touch. Now that the feeling wasn’t so much a surprise, Rosco found he really liked it, “but my actions have a habit of coming before my thoughts.”

“In this case it worked out well for you.” The god musses, letting his hand fall back to his side, “I promised you a reward for your assistance, yet you rushed off without receiving it.”

The moment Hayden’s hand left him, Rosco felt a wave of abandonment, pushing his lip out in an unintended pout. He has to blink a few times as the meaning of the god’s words take their time to settle over him, resetting his expression from betrayal to wide eyed surprise, “You’re still going to pay me?”

“If money is what you desire as compensation, than yes,” Hayden answered with a nod reaching into his coat.

“Wait!” grabbing the man’s arm before he could retrieve any coins, “are you saying it doesn’t have to be money?”

Hayden’s eyes linger on their point of contact before dragging up to meet the boy’s, who immediately drops his arm and starts apologizing profusely. Hayden grabs his chin, affectively shutting him up, “If not money, what did you have in mind?” the god asks, showing no sign of anger.

Rosco gulps loudly as Hayden let him go, trying to organize his scrambled thoughts. Once again, his emotions are high, so his words refuse to come easily, “Lolly,” He finally manages to force out. His chest warms with his success and then his stomach drops seeing Hayden’s expression. The god has tilted his head, eyes drawn together, clearly not understanding. And why would he? Rosco’s caregiver’s name had fallen out of his mouth without any of the supporting information needed to express his desire. So now he’s mad at himself and all his words want to spill out at once, like a jumbled-up ball on the back of his tongue trying to force its way forward. Rosco has to swallow them all down and wrestle them into order before trying to speak again, which takes more time than most people had patience for. More time than Rosco normally had patience for. Yet, Hayden’s eyes never leave his face, Rosco expected the god to get irritated with him, but he doesn’t, silently waiting for the boy to gather himself.

“I want to help Lolly,” Rosco says finally, “she has some kind of sickness in her lungs. Yewin says we’ll be lucky if she lasts until winter comes again.” Lifting his hopeful eyes to the god, “can you make some medicine or something to help her?”

There’s a beat of silence as Hayden searches his face, “You have a favor from a god, you could ask for anything and you wish to ask for medicine for another?”

Rosco nods fervently, “Lolly saved my life. And the lives of all the others.” glancing back at his moon lit home, “money might help us in the short term but if Lolly dies, we’ll all be lost. And there will be no one to help any other kids like us.” Looking back to the god, “so, can you do that? Make some kind of medicine?”

Amusement plays at the corner of Hayden’s lips, threatening a smile that he does not allow, “I could just heal her, but if you really want medi-”

“No!” Rosco interrupts with a jolt forward, “That sounds better, just do that, heal her, no medicine needed.” nearly painful grin splitting his cheeks.

Hayden lets out a bright laugh. “Very well, it’s done.”

Rosco feels his mouth fall open more than intends to do it, “You haven’t even seen her? how can you have already healed her?” he demands.

“I was there when we decided how your bodies would be made. I took part in the decisions. It is not difficult for me to make corrections when one has developed errors.” Hayden shrugs as if it were obvious.

Rosco blinks in disbelief, glancing back and forth between the god and the house, “If it’s that easy, what about all the other sick people? Heal them too.”

Hayden pauses, surprise leaking out around his otherwise masked expression, “You’re out of favors,” he answers shortly.

Rosco’s brow knits together, “Aren’t you supposed to be our god? Isn’t our wellbeing your responsibility? The people here are dying every day from illnesses you can easily cure, not just here but everywhere!”

Hayden sighs, rocking back on his heels, crossing his arms, “You’re yelling again.”

Rosco clamps his mouth shut, silently cursing himself.

“What you are asking for is not as simple as it seems,” the god begins, “you are correct, I could heal them all, but most would be sick again almost immediately. The rampant illness you are experiencing is caused by a sort of sickness in the earth, an imbalance that will be much more difficult for me to correct.”

“Are you going to?”

“Hum?”

“Correct it?”

“Eventually.”

“Eventually!?”

Hayden’s sigh alerted Rosco to the fact he had yelled once again causing him to shrink back apologetically.

“First, I need to speak with my sister, this should not have been able to happen while she was here. Something has gone very wrong, and it means nothing to repair something if you do not first correct the cause. She’ll notice I’ve returned and come find me eventually. Once that happens, we can sort this mess out.”

Now Rosco lets out a sigh, “Wouldn’t it be faster to go find her? Rather than waiting for her to come to you?”

“No, I’m sure as soon as she realizes I’m here, she’ll find me,” the god answers sounding quite sure of himself.

“But what if she doesn’t?” the boy snaps back, “what if there’s a reason she’s not here? How long are you going to wait around, doing nothing while people suffer?”

Hayden’s eyes darken, “she’ll come. There is no reason she would not. There is nothing that can keep us apart.”

Rosco felt his eyes roll, words spilling out before he has time to think about them, “you’re no different than the other gods after all. You’re just as selfish,” he scoffs, “it was useless to think you’d help us. You won’t even help your own sister, she could need you, but that would put a damper on your temper tantrums, wouldn’t it?” his eyes recaught Hayden’s and was instantly drenched in regret.

The god’s eyes had become black holes. Swallowing all available light and heat. Rosco shivers, goose bumps rising all over his skin as the air around him becomes colder than any winter he’d ever lived through.

“Do not compare me to those pretenders again.”

The words shake the earth, though Hayden had not actually spoken them, reverberating in Rosco’s thoughts, rattling his very bones, the air sparks and hums with electricity, like lightning gathering just before it strikes. Convinced he’s already dug this hole as deep as it goes, Rosco speaks his mind. “I wouldn’t have to if you’d been here, doing your job like you’re meant to. I have no faith in gods because you have all proven to be unfaithful.” Practically spitting the words.

The temperature plummets again, everything falling impossible still and silent. Even the gathered electricity in the air freezes and time seems to hold its breath. Rosco’s brash anger evaporates and a cold resignation he knows well settles in its place. He squeezes his eyes shut, sure he’d done it now, waiting for whatever torment the god would inflict upon him. His knees turn to jelly, dropping him onto the grass. Tension gathering in him again as he feels the god step closer.

“You will learn to heed my commands,” the god warns icily.

Rosco winces, curling in on himself. He’s always had a bad habit of pissing people off and Yewin told him he’d get himself killed because of it. Rosco hates to have proven him right.

The boy waits, and waits, but his painful end never comes. Feeling brave, or stupidly curious, he opens his eyes to find Hayden gone. Only the still, profound normalcy of the night surrounding him. Wind pulls at his hair. The full moon bathes everything in soft white light. There is no hint of the god remaining, or any remaining sign of his overflowing anger.

He sits, frozen in place until his heartbeat slows back down to a normal rate. Rosco stands on shaky legs, making his way back into his bed, careful not to wake the others as he settles back into his blankets. He really was quite lucky.