Long ago, in Godville, there were gods, but no heroes. I was one of those gods, Melindre. Some used to call me the Goddess of Compassion, the one that always forgave even the smallest of creatures.
I was never like that.
In the Old Times, as we call them, the Earth was a harsh place. Only crawling critters and giant monsters lurked around Godville. Yes, it’s been called Godville all along — we were the only ones living there, after all. We wanted company. Some times evil gods would burn the land for pure entertainment. On special occasions gods would even use black magic to create other gods so they’d have soneone new to talk to.
On one of those occasions, Goddess Amya called me aside.
“I can’t take it anymore. And I’m not the only one, I know. Look at you… weaker everyday that passes!” It was true. For the so called Goddess of Compassion, a world without compassion was dreadful. It was killing not only me, but all the good gods.
“We need to stop them.” I said, almost whispering.
“We will.” Amya assured me.
That same day all the good gods joined together around Godville, and we created our heroes. Made by the earth itself, we crafted them to perfection — or as close as we could get in our weakaned state. With love and care we raised them. But so did the Evil Gods the next day.
That’s when the world you now know began. The wars that once broke out in the heavens now shook the Earth instead, and hero after hero they fought, with both their god’s blessing and fury.
We called them heroes.
They? They called us Gods.