Bargaining Post

The thing that spoke to me had the face of a dead god but used the voice of my father. I had known to expect this. It was a by-product of the bonding ritual that gave a semblance of life back to this former deity. Not that any of the gods ever truly died, even if they were killed. They were still useful long after their deaths, a fact I was about to exploit now.

"I offer you a bargain," I repeated, ignoring the god's question.

It was silent a long moment, perhaps in reappraisal of my brazenness. "What sort of bargain?" it asked, a cautious tone in its voice.

"My family began a feud with your kind that was foolish and short-sighted," I replied. "A feud that is solely between me now, as the lone living survivor, and the gods. And the longer that gold post remains," I gestured absently behind me, "the more people who will die as its influence spreads."

"The bargain?" the god repeated.

I held up my blade again, the sun reflecting off it. The god looked, its countenance darkening, and the ground shook.