Fics like we carve up the world all the time

He lifts his head up. He’s not supposed to— he knows that— but he does it anyway. The statue of his god has a chiseled jaw and a prominent, tall nose. He is beautiful in ways that the human is not. That he likely could not ever be. Jungwon envies him, but he remains with his head lifted, spine still pressed low. It aches and burns in places he’s never felt such excruciating pain, but he wants to be seen as he asks this of his god. To, at the very least, say this voice that pleads is mine, no one else’s. “And please bless me…with a torch to illuminate this unfamiliar road. Light to guide me. Fire to warm me. A sign or a symbol of your blessing, so that I know the fate that lies ahead of me is one you have so benevolently bestowed, just like your presence.” The bells at the entryway of the temple jingle— and this time, it sounds like a laugh. -- (At his coming-of-age ceremony, Yang Jungwon becomes the property of his village's god.)

Fics like we carve up the world all the time

You may also like