But At What Cost?

The battle had nearly raged towards the city gate. Fires burned fiercely in the countryside and the citizenry began to prepare for the worst.

One child, however, was sick and tired of waiting. She marched up the mount in the center of the city and climbed the steps of the ancient temple. She could hear cannon fire ring in the distance and the cracking strain of the city's feeble stone walls. With haste, she flung herself into the sacred precinct, long abandoned after centuries of neglect.

The girl knew the power that slumbered there, waiting to be released. She felt it with every faltering prayer, with every well-meant offering. She knew what must be done to save her city.

"Oh, ancient one," she cried, "king of the heavens and patron of our people! Awake from your slumber and see the enemies at our gates! Hear the cries of your people! Protect our city, oh Regent of Old, and deliver us from torment!"

Something happened that the girl didn't quite expect: the stones hummed. Then they began to rumble. Dust and debris shook themselves from their moorings and fallen masonry began to haphazardly put itself back into place. The din of the battle faded into the background as the fire of the day gathered into a single bright point. The point then grew into the shape of a man of such enormity that he blocked out the sun from which he was made. Then the shape shrunk and sank back down to the temple, right in front of the girl.

The God-Made-Flesh was still twice the size of the girl. He wore a tunic and robe in the archaic style and a diadem of pure gold. Light shone from every inch of his being: greatly contrasting the bags under his eyes.

The god stepped over the girl and strode out the temple entrance. He put his hand above his eyes -as if to redirect the sunlight he himself was emitting. In a quick swivel of his head, he took in the surroundings while inflating his chest with air.

"HEY!" The deity yelled.

The WORD rang across the landscape like an immaterial hurricane. As it passed over, every person caught in its wave vanished in the blink of an eye.

"Some of US are trying to sleep! Gods!" The divine yelled. He stooped back down and rubbed his eyes.

Fires raged without the persons who caught them, dogs barked without their owners, bells slowly came to an abrupt silence. The war was over.

The girl stood behind the god in utter stupefaction. She had no clue whether to prostrate herself or weep. The god turned in her direction and finally noticed her.

"Ah!" He sighed. "Priestess! Wake me up in another... oh... five centuries? Thanks, bestie."

He stooped down to give her a pat on the head before ascending to the heavens once more, leaving the poor girl in smothering silence.

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This short was written for Marie Sinadjan's Spooky Season Bingo writing challenge under the prompt 'Grumpy Old Gods.'

This one had a good bit of Pratchett and Gaiman in it, I think.