Harrie
Legacy Name: Harrie

Harrie was a god once. And no one even knows.

His current form differs drastically from his depictions. Suffice to say, he is not the creature he once was. His body wore out and he was forced to turn to an unnatural vessel to continue existing. He wasn't sure he wanted it to continue, but sometimes willpower makes those choices for you, and his was an exceptional one.

The majority of his worshipers died out long ago, in a dimension that no longer exists, in a realm no one has ever heard of. As his followers disappeared, so did his powers. Not that they were terribly fearsome, but any creature worthy of being called a god must, by definition, be capable of some rather formidable acts of mystically wanton vulgarity. Whether a god creature uses them or not is another matter.

He was capable of some rather formidable and mystically vulgar powers, but he did not use them. Some might say that that made him merciful. His followers would have agreed, as such is the reason that they worshiped him. In truth, Harrie simply did not see the point. Either choice would have provided him with followers, but, in not using them, he ultimately created less work to do. Using powers generally requires regular displays, otherwise your wide-eyed followers begin to doubt.

After the last of the inhabitants in his realm left, the realm began to disintegrate. With the last of his power, he abandoned it, as well. It is the one act of his entire existence that he considers cowardly and wrong. If he had stayed, he would surely have been destroyed when it finally collapsed, which would have only been proper, akin to a Captain going down with his ship. But he couldn't do it. He was too curious about life, and he felt he wasn't ready to give in to blackness.

He came to regret it, as anyone would - should. After he left, his powers faded almost to nonexistence, along with his immortality. He began to age, radically, and as he was skipping through realms and dimensions, looking for a new home, he deteriorated. He finally had to stop to rest, and unwittingly chose the next realm he entered as his prison.

The deterioration continued until he became a wandering decrepit vagabond in the streets of Centropolis. He had not even had time to study his new realm yet, and was resigned to acclimatize himself while he recuperated. He drug his invalid body just outside of the most heavily populated area and there he waited. It took months, both to recover and to learn even the most fundamental rules of the society.

He was wasting away under a bush in a park when the girl found him. Others had seen him before, but none had been keen to approach him. He certainly did not look very approachable. He usually never acknowledged the people and pets around him. He kept his eyes closed, even when he wasn't sleeping, though he slept often. Even though he had aged so much, he felt no closer to death. He merely felt... old.

"Aw, look at you, poor old guy. It can't be very comfortable laying on those sticks. And it's so hot out here! Maybe you'd like to come back with me?"
He lifted his head when he realized the voice was speaking to him. He had picked up enough of the language to get the gist of what she was saying.
"Oh... you're even older than I realized. I wonder if you can even hear me..."
He opened his eyes and looked directly at her. The girl gasped to see the sharp orange irises, so bright and alive next to his faded milky fur.
He said nothing. There was no need. Her next words were more cautious.
"What's your name? Do you have one?"

He thought for a moment, working out the syllables in his mind first, trying to remember them all.
"Hariev-..."
He stopped when he realized something unsettling. Was that really his name anymore? It was the name of a god, given by other lesser beings, and he was not that god any longer. Was it still his? Was it ever?

"Harry? Is that what you said, Harry?"
He stared at her blankly, struck momentarily speechless as his thoughts were interrupted and he had to process what she was suggesting. He blinked. She hadn't even noticed that his pause was unintentional. He seized upon his dumb luck.
"Harrie, yes." There, a name that would require no explanation.
She smiled at him. It was warm, and he knew immediately it was genuine.

He followed her home, like an old dog being led to his final resting place. He had a feeling he would find peace with her, though he was not sure that he deserved it. Either way, it was a chance to learn more about the world. His only fear was that, one day, she would begin to ask questions, and he did not know if he could oblige her. Not that it mattered, he doubted he would be able to articulate the truth. He had begun to believe it had all been just a dream, anyway. He was gradually forgetting; the deterioration had reached his mind and, in self-preservation, the unbelievable and confusing memories were being overwritten.

Harrie was a god once. And no one even knows.