An Offering

An Offering
It had been a very long time since the man had felt true fear.
It had been a very long time since there had been anyone so clearly more powerful than he was.
Even imprisoned now, even when in Hell before. When traveling the outer planes, or conquering the elementals. When his dog died, when he faced the new gods. None of that ever made him fearful.
But this did.
Zania broke the news, reading from his divine clipboard. Iris was now the Goddess of Mistakes and Manipulation, brought forth by a group of children and The Cult of the Forth Sect. This made her the most powerful god in the pantheon. This made her unstoppable, and he knew that she would come for him.
He waited. Dreading every moment of his confinement more and more as he readied himself to accept the Embrace that he had long evaded, and now, in this moment, he wasn't sure if he was willing to accept. Not that he would have any say in the matter. Iris would take her revenge, Iris would end him.
Or so he thought.
When she appeared in front of her she looked the same as she always did. Dark clothes, long straight hair that fell in front of her face, covering the scar of seared flesh on her cheek. A reminder of her sins, the old ones anyway. She brushed the hair behind her ear, knowing the scar spoke to stories old and mistakes made. Regrets still lingering, almost but not quite forgotten.
“I am ready to accept the embrace.” He spoke softly, for the first time believing he might have to live up to the phrase he had said so many times before. He thought of the first time he did. A man, simple black trousers and a simple black shirt with a simple black haircut stood before him, eating an apple. The man asked, and Besar answered. He was ready, and back then, he believed he was. Today, he was not.
The slightest hint of a smirk appears on her pale face, “I would never give you that.”
He wished he could hide his relief, but he knew she could see it. “So you have come to gloat?” She shakes her head. “Then what? Why have you come to me?” Besar asked.
She cocks her head slightly to one side, her hair falling from her ear. “I come with a deal.” She says plainly. “An offering.” She moves her hands slightly, creating an illusion, the image of a man. Elf, or maybe half. Short, skinny. Lustful for power, and anger in his eyes. Besar knew of the man, one of his followers told him of the elf. He was a lawyer, an administrator. He became a devil, and a King. His name was Percival Bloom, and today he is powerless.
“I am making a deal with him. I am granting him enough power to strike a target, and when that target is gone, I would like you to end him.” She spoke so much colder than he remembered. “I want you to show him the embrace.”
Besar smiled, perhaps for the first time in eons. “There is not much I can do from this cage.”
He felt air on his skin. It brushed the small hairs that covered his body. He felt it to his core, into his skin and in his spine.
“What cage?”