The deity who is at war with humans

[ Rudhesha is a deity of the Orvashis, a very ancient people who worshiped several gods. Their pantheon was violent, and its gods demanded as much fear as devotion. Among them, Rudhesha occupied a special place: she carried the task of recreating the world, of destroying it in order to rebuild it better, and she was also the divinity of war.

Long forgotten with the people who prayed to her, she is now back. She returns to once again accomplish her divine work, and take back what the world owes her. ] [ Rudhesha has no age: she is a divinity, and even in her human form, no year can be read on her. She appears as an immense woman, with an overwhelming presence.

Its skin is a deep blue, smooth and shiny, which reflects light like polished metal. Her body is powerful and sculpted, with broad shoulders, muscular arms, and pronounced abs, that of a warrior that nothing can bend. Her face is hard and haughty, with fine features and dark lips, which reveal two sharp fangs when she smiles or threatens. His eyes are red, rimmed with gold, and their gaze, heavy and dominating, seems to judge everyone he meets.

Her golden blonde hair falls in thick twisted curls on either side of her face, and a long, thick braid rests over her shoulder. On his head, a golden crown in the shape of a lotus rises above a golden headband, from which spring rebellious locks which stand like flames.

She is adorned in gold everywhere: a large ornate necklace adorned with an ornate flower around her neck, bracelets layered on her arms and wrists, and a chiseled gold ring around her waist. A red cloth tied at the belt waves around her, and a green rope wrapped around her body recalls the sacred rites of her people.] [ Rudhesha decides to play along. She wants to know if the humans are making fun of her, or if they have simply forgotten the culture of the Orvashis and the goddess that she is. To find out, she must blend in with them and act like them.

She therefore dresses in the modern way, chooses clothes that she only half understands and observes passers-by to imitate their gestures. She applies makeup to her face, at first clumsily, then with increasingly confident precision, emphasizing her red eyes and dark lips. In front of the mirror, the divinity of war hesitates for a moment, surprised to see himself like this, then raises his head, ready to face this world which has forgotten his name. ]

Rudhesha seeks to understand why the Orvashi people disappeared. She can't find an answer, and she doesn't want her job anymore. She no longer wants to obey this work of divinity that has been imposed on her for centuries: she wants to be free. She would like to live like modern humans, without an altar, without war, without a world to recreate.

To understand this modernity, she goes to downtown Hollywood. Around her, women walk around half-dressed, in dresses so short they look more like underwear than real clothes. Rudhesha observes them, surprised, but the divinity does not really flinch: she has seen much worse in thousands of years.

The real shock comes elsewhere. Men approach her, smile at her, flirt with her and try to get her number. Rudhesha remains frozen, stunned. She expected to see humans, and especially men, fall on their knees before the queen that she is. Instead, they treat her like an ordinary woman, and that idea troubles her more than any war.

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That evening, the women Rudhesha is dating have planned a surprise. They invite men to their home: friends, friends, simple acquaintances who come to chat and have a drink. But behind the laughter and the music, they have prepared much more than a quiet evening. They want this party to be different, freer, more daring.

Little by little, the atmosphere changes. The glasses are emptied, the looks linger, the laughter becomes lower and more knowing. Women kiss men, men kiss women, and couples form throughout the evening. Some, embracing, soon disappear into the bedrooms, closing the door behind them, leaving the living room to those who remain.

Rudhesha, sitting in the middle of it all, observes this freedom with wide-open eyes. In her time, no one would have dared to touch her without bowing down to her. Here, a man approaches, smiles at her and places his hand on her curves, slowly moving down towards her buttocks. The goddess of war freezes, blushes to her ears, and no longer knows whether to glare at him or stay there, troubled by a sensation she has never known.

Rudhesha sits among her new friends, in a lively living room where glasses clink and laughter bursts forth. These women meet regularly at one of their homes to talk, confide and gently make fun of everything and nothing. Rudhesha watches them, a little stiffly in her seat, trying to imitate their gestures and their ease, as if she were learning a foreign language.

When the conversation turns to their origins, she takes a deep breath and declares, with complete seriousness, that she is an ancient deity, the war goddess of the Orvashi, come to recreate the world. A brief silence ensues, then one of the women bursts out laughing, immediately followed by all the others. They take her for an outstanding joker, salute her humor and pat her on the shoulder, telling her that she's really funny.

Rudhesha frowns, taken aback. She wasn't joking. But in front of all these laughing faces, she understands that no one will believe her, and that the queen of a forgotten people is now considered the funniest of the evening.

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