The Protector’s Woes by Zerjemae C. Zaragoza
For many years, I’ve stood. Alone—peering at the cheerful city beneath me, only able to feel the pulse of their laughter that shakes the ground in gentle waves. It is this steady vibration that has lulled me to sleep for a millennia, and it is their calls that have awoken me every day.
For many years, I’ve stood.
Unchallenged—the protector of this city by the sea. Every day the incense travels through the air, carrying their cries and praises. Every day, I must fight a battle that they do not see, defend them from ghosts long forgotten and demons long conquered.
For many years, I’ve stood.
But now, the thought of sitting creeps ever steadily into the corners of my aged mind. The statues of me that they have erected are always seated, lounged comfortably in a throne. A cruel irony it seems. As a god, I have spent too long a time on this earth. And now I begin to wonder, to question what lies beyond this seemingly unending quest of mine. For too many years, I’ve stood—but perhaps it is time to step down from this lofty seat in heaven. Perhaps it is time to pass the burden to another, and for me to finally sink my toes in the sands I have kept safe. To feel only the winds of freedom against my cheeks and not shiver from the memories of storms.
For many years, I’ve stood.
And now, this god has laid himself to rest.
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