An assignment I did for mythology class. I shall revise it to better make sense later, but for now, it was just an excuse to start writing about Vix, the main god in Never Home.

Vix, the Creator of Man

Deep in the woods of the Colorado Mountains, three young boys gathered around the campfire. Their grandfather sat on a log opposite of them, roasting marshmallows on a stick. The boys followed suit and it was silent for a time, until one of them spoke up, eyes wide with excitement.

“Grandpa, could you tell us a story?” the boy asked, no older than thirteen. The grandfather let out a low chuckle and nodded.

“Any story you’d particularly like to hear?” he asked. A second boy answered:

“What about the story of Vix?”

“Ah,” the grandfather rubbed his white beard and leaned back on his log, smiling up into the trees. “Yes, that’s a good one. Well, boys, the story goes as follows…

“Vix, the Creator of All, sat on his heavenly throne, looking over the vast earth. He had made the animals and beasts, but none brought him great pleasure. So an idea occurred to him: what if he created creatures that he could share the earth with? Creatures that were intelligent and strong, something that could rule over the earth? So Vix stepped down from heaven and onto earth. ‘But what shall I make them of?’ he asked, looking around the world. First he thought wood, but after tearing down a tree, he found it too easy to break and burn. ‘What of water?’ But water was too easily formed and moved in other directions. He did not wish for his people to be weak willed. So he took a piece of the earth, but again, it crumbled in his hands after a little pressure was applied.

“Tired and frustrated, Vix fastened himself a chair from steel to sit upon. Then, as he pondered his options upon the chair, the answer came to him! ‘Steel is strong,’ he said, ‘but can still change. A perfect thing to fasten my people out of.’ So from steel he began to fasten people that looked like him. But they would not move. They were sculptures, at best.

“Upset as to why his creations were not heeding life’s call, another idea occurred to him. These people had no reason to live. So Vix took a knife and cut open his chest. He then tore small pieces of his heart out to give to his people. He placed his heart into all his creations, so that they might feel love. So that they can have his strength deep inside them and so that he could forever be close to them.

“So mankind started to breathe air. They started to love and fight and all this brought pleasure to Vix.”

“Is that story true, grandpa?” the first boy asked, eyes curious. The grandfather smiled and pulled his marshmallow from the fire.

“I guess one day we might see. When we die and he takes his piece of heart back and places it in someone new. But until then, all we can do is believe.”