Exalted

         It never occurred to me to question the validity of our gods. They just appeared to be the answer to all our problems. They gave us sustenance, shelter, protection – all the things we needed to survive.
         I was ten years of age when I received The Calling by the high priest to serve at the temple. My parents could not have been prouder to send their eldest son to train as a holy man.
          My first epiphany came a decade after my Calling was established when we were visited by our goddess, Andraste.
         It had been many generations since she visited, so, naturally I felt privileged to be amongst the dozen Priests to greet her and her honor guard.
          She was beautiful! Andraste was the embodiment of femininity; her perfect body was accentuated with gold, set off by her light brown skin and chocolate hair. Her small stature betrayed her title of The Goddess of War.
         I expected a melodious voice, like that of the priestesses when they sang her praises during our sacred worships. Instead, I was disappointed by a deep, almost masculine voice. Her eyes glowed with an unnatural yellow light. It made her look like an animal—again, not very god-like.
          When she called my name, I was weary. I approached her throne with much trepidation. I did not feel the warmth one was supposed to feel in the presence of their deity. I felt I must have been unworthy of her. She was going to strike me down as an example for all the heretics and heathens.
         Like an obedient servant, I approached on my knees, my head bowed.
         “You became a priest much sooner than most.” She said.
         “Yes, my lady.”
         “And you have won every physical competition you have entered.”
         “Yes, my lady.”
         The doubts in my mind were almost unbearable. I wanted to look at her—demand that she prove her divinity. The only thing that kept me dumb was knowing that she would strike me down for having such thoughts.
         Why did she not strike me down? Are not the gods omnipotent? All-knowing? We were taught that we could hide nothing from them.
Andraste was not known for mercy -- we were told stories of her smiting whole villages because the chiefs had impure thoughts about her. With her reputation, she should kill me where I stood; why did she not?
         “Your dedication to me has not gone unnoticed. You shall be exalted. You shall be a god.”

         My second epiphany came too late. My second epiphany came when I too became a god.
         I was to spend the night meditating, preparing for the next stage in the process of Exaltation.
         In the morning, my head was shorn and I was given clothes that were as fine as Andraste’s.
         The tunic was a cream accented by gold. My pale skin did not look as impressive against the gold as Andraste’s. The slacks were stiff and uncomfortable, bunching up my manhood in a very unnatural way. “Perhaps this is why the gods do not breed.” I joked out loud to comfort myself-- it did not work.
         In my meditation, I had decided the gods were false. They could not be true gods. Andraste did not carry with her an air of holiness-- It seemed like an act. When I was close to her, I felt only the way I had felt in the presence of the Grand Priest. There was importance, but no holy aura. Her attitude did not seem god-like, but reeked of arrogance.
         How then, would I be made a “god”? Would I be forced to marry her, then undergo some odd ritual?
         There were weapons only the gods could use. Perhaps it was something in their blood that the devices could sense. Perhaps I would be forced to consume an odd potion with precious metals or herbs that were used for that purpose.
         Sundown came too soon; it was time for my rise into the world of false deities.
         I was taken by two of Andraste’s guards – why did an all-powerful god need guards? – To a chamber that was always locked. There was Andraste with the Grand Priest and one of her guards, who had been stripped down to his waist. They stood next to a stone altar, which had leather straps near the top and the bottom.
         The chamber was lit only by a few torches, so I did not notice the strange markings on the guard’s abdomen until I stood before the altar. It was a large “X”; it took me a moment to realize it was an incision of some sort. Why was he not bleeding?
         I was asked to lie on the altar, my hands and legs bound by the leather straps. I was beginning to feel fear as Andraste approached me, side-by-side with her guard.
         “It is an honor for you, my loyal servant. You shall never perish. You shall rule over the planet where you were once but a mere mortal.”
         She stepped back, and the guard stepped forward. I watched in horror as the incision on his abdomen began to split apart - Something inside was moving. I did not know what to think at first as the head emerged, split into four triangular segments.
          The creature let out a horrible squeal which rang in my ears and caused my heart to jump. Its grizzly body snaked out of the abdomen of the guard. Unidentified slime dripped off of the creature’s form as it made its way to my body.
         I wanted to scream -- I opened my mouth, and the creature leapt into it.
The following few moments were chaos. The guard fell to the ground, my body threshed uncontrollably. I would have fallen off the altar had it not been for the restraints.
         There was something inside of me, something that was not supposed to be there. I could feel it mentally more than anything – my conscious being forced to the back of my mind.
         The invader was stronger than I. No matter how hard I fought, it persisted. Pain wracked my body the harder I fought. Muscle spasms combined with my arms and legs fighting against the straps became unbearable. I had no choice but to concede.

         I have spent a century, watching my body do things I would never do. Torturing innocent people, murdering men and women for petty things.
         There was one moment in my so called god-hood that I felt like the creature who invaded my body made the right decision. It had decided that Andraste could no longer be allowed to live. With the assistance of some of the Priests, she was summoned to our world.
         Once she arrived, my guards ambushed hers. The creature in my body tortured her, bringing her several times to the brink of death.
         In the end, just before beheading her with a ceremonial sword, the glow had left her eyes. She looked mortal. I knew then that the monster inside of her was gone, she had been freed.

         I know I am not a god. My body has merely been infected with a parasite. Every time I try to regain control, the creature mocks me, and punishes me by killing another innocent.
         I have also been infected by the memories this thing possesses. Somehow, it has obtained the memories of all its predecessors. I am haunted by the faces of their victims; twisted in agony from torture. I feel whatever is left of my own mind is slipping away.
         We are sitting on our throne. I’m watching as a guard – a Jaffa—enters. Another monster is being incubated in this guard – in all the guards. They believe they are serving a god.
         I want to die. That’s all I can think of anymore. I want to die.
         Once, I had control of the body for a brief moment. I impaled my self on a sword.
         My body was put in a sarcophagus, where it was healed. The thing punished me by having three villages wage war on each other, telling each village the reason their crops did poorly was because the chiefs of the rival villages were heretics.
         Two of the villages were nearly wiped out, the survivors enslaved on the land outside of our temple.
          The guard informs the thing there are invaders. They came in through the
Chaapa’ai, a device used for interstellar travel.
         Invaders. Probably more “gods”, or, as they are more properly called the Goa’uld.
         I know what the creature is thinking. He is preparing to torture the captives. He has a device he slips on like a glove. The creature enjoys the speed at which the cold metal warms up when he puts it on.
          The device has a crystal, attached to five finger sleeves by wires. . It creates an energy beam that causes great pain. In the body that was once mine, the blood contains a precious metal which allows the Goa'uld to operate the device.
         I get a strange feeling-- I always do when visited by another god. It’s a tingling coming from the direction of the hall where the invaders a being ushered to our chamber.
         There are two people – a man and a woman.
         They are in odd clothes—both in slacks with strange green and brown markings. They are wearing black tops made of a material with which I am not familiar. The man has spectacles. They have been knocked askew by the roughness of our guards; the woman’s blond hair is singed at the edges.
         The creature takes pleasure in this.-- he wants to hurt them both so badly. I just want to close my eyes; but I can not. As usual, I am forced to watch.
         “Where do you come from!” A voice that is not my own demands.
         They don’t answer.
         The woman; that feeling is coming from the woman. However, it’s not as strong as it is when other Goa’ulds come calling-- It feels distant, as if the creature in her was gone. But that’s impossible, from what the creature has revealed throughout the years. The only way to remove the parasite is by death.
         My hand raises -- I plead with the creature to stop, but he won’t. Again, he only mocks me.
         An orange light comes form the device on my hand. The woman cries out and falls to her knees when the beam hits her forehead. The creature stops immediately. He wants this to last, he won’t kill either of them right away.
         “Where do you come from!” The voice demands again.
         The answer comes from an unexpected place – the ceiling. A man with short cropped, spiked hair, dressed in a similar manner as the ones before us, drops from the rafters.
         “You’re a god, you should know!”
          He’s a heretic. It’s wonderful! I’m hoping death is near. Please let it be near.
          He’s firing a weapon like I have never seen before. Instead of energy, it shoots projectiles. Guards are falling all around as my body leaves the throne. The creature never runs, too undignified, but my legs carry us to an escape door, walking swiftly. The guards fire their blast-staffs at the intruders. All three of them now have weapons, including zatn’kitels, the energy weapons that are similar to the projectile weapons they carry.
          The escape door opens. There stands a large, dark-skinned Jaffa. He too is wearing the odd slacks and black shirt. “Shol’va!” My mouth says the word. It means traitor. This Jaffa’s name is Teal’c, I recognize the gold symbol implanted on his forehead. He betrayed Apophis, another Goa’uld, and is credited to be the inspiration of a growing army of Jaffa eager to defeat the Goa’uld.
          He fires his blast staff at my chest. The burning is excruciating. I fall to the ground, and cry out.
         It’s not the unnatural voice of the creature. It’s my voice. A beautiful sound to my ears, despite the piercing pain in my body. The creature is injured badly, I can tell.
         “Kill me.” I beg the Jaffa as the three invaders join him.
         The woman speaks to me. “There’s a way we can remove the symbiote--”
         “No!” I shout, tears rolling down my cheeks. The creature is gaining strength, I can feel it. “Kill me. No one should have the burden of these memories. Please, have mercy…”
         I can feel my consciousness being pushed. It’s still weak, but I have very little time.
          Teal’c raises his blast staff and I see a light as the beam strikes my chest again-- the pain lasts only a second…

         The man says “Thank You” softly, a look of long awaited peace on his face as he slips out of the world.
         The blond woman and the man with the spectacles linger for one last apologetic look at the man who was once a god.