Unwilling Warrior.

Prologue

Call me Loki.
It is not my real name, it is not even the name I awoke with in this life. But it will do. A name fit for a naughty son of an angry tyrant god.
Yes I do not love my creator.
I respect and fear him, true enough. But love?
No.
I hate the mother-fucking bastard.
In this life I have been taught  in the temples and churches. I know the theory of it all. I know we are supposed to believe God (with a capital "G") created the world. I know it is supposed to be an act of love.
But have a look how much fear there is in the teachings.
And then look closely at his creation. If you doubt me, look at his chosen people. Thank "God" I am not one of his chosen.
I was not chosen by God for a life of torture, heartbreak and pain.
I have chosen it for myself
Do you  think the bastard who created this world of suffering would give us free will? No he did not, no he would not.
But somehow I have the freedom to choose my life of pain.
It is painful because I oppose him.
And he has all power in this world.
The only reason I can make my choice is because he did not create my spirit.
He does not  understand my spirit.
He does not even know my spirit exists, it is beyond his power to comprehend.
He has no power over it. So he cannot take it away.

Why have I chosen this life?
It is because of Her.
Who is She?
She is a dream, a whisper, a wistfulness.
I do not know if She is real, but my spirit is part of her.
My body, "me", would rather be a willing cog in the mad tyrant's world, would prefer an easier softer way.
But she whispers to me and I take decisions that cost me dearly;  in service of a lady, an idea, who may or may not be real.
But every time I act against the dictates of the mad tyrant, I prove her to be real.
Otherwise where do I get  my will to oppose?

I hear you, wise man. I hear you tell me I am living according to a fantasy.