Commission: Palutena the Hieroglyph

Palutena hummed to herself as she strolled around her temple's grounds. It had been a while since the last war with the Underworld Army and everything was so peaceful now. The sun was shining (like every day in Skyworld), there were no yelling, fueding gods threatening to destroy entire continents and all she had to do was relax and soak up the collective praise of humanity without having to do any serious goddess stuff in return. Yep, she could get used to this more relaxed form of divinity. Hopefully peace lasted for a few more centuries at least...

Deciding that it was time her stomach recieved a divine lunchtime offering, the Goddess of Light began making her way to the kitchen, wondering if they had the ingredients for vegetable surprise. As she made her way there, though, something made her pause. Something scrawled crudely on one of the walls. The words "Palutena stinks!" painted onto the otherwise bare brickwork in small, pink letters.

"Graffiti?" said the goddess, to herself. "Here? Who would deface my holy temple like this? Pit trying to joke with me, or something? No, he knows I'd send him on a month-long gruelling training regime if he ever tried to poke fun at me..."

She frowned and stared at the offending graffiti. Was it just her, or did it still seem kind of wet? Maybe she could still wipe it away before it dried and before anyone else saw it. She reached out towards it, reasoning that she could simply wash her hands afterwards if it did wipe off and touched her palm to the still-sticky paint. No sooner had she done so, though, than the words began to glow in a bright, pink light. The goddess screamed, feeling magical energy surging into her body as the light grew brighter and brighter. She tried to remove her hand, but found it completely stuck to wall, all she was able to do was keep screaming as the light became a blinding flash, engulfing her entire body.

...Then it faded. Phew, thought Palutena, as her vision readjusted to the normal, non-bright pink light of Skyworld. What was that about? Some kind of temporary-blinding trap, or something? Well, whatever it was at least it's- huh? Why am I facing away from the wall now? This was puzzling. She'd definitely been looking at the wall, but now all she could see was the trees and grass opposite it. Why had she been turned around? Worse than that, why could she feel the wall behind her? It didn't feel like she was just leaning on it, but as though every inch of her body had been pressed flat against the hard stone. Even her feet seemed to be touching nothing but the wall, as though she was suspended above the floor somehow...

What was going on!? Why was she pressed so close to the wall? And why did she feel so flat? So... lacking in substance? Starting to panic, she tried to turn around, to step away from the wall and take a look at what had happened, but found to her horror that she couldn't. No matter how she strained, she couldn't budge any part of her oddly depthless-feeling body even a single inch. Really panicking now, she tried to scream for help, but found herself no more able to speak than she was able to move. Her flat-feeling, unmoving mouth failing to produce the slightest sound.

Desperate to know what had happened to her - why she'd become completely silent, inanimate and apparently-flat - Palutena strained her vision downwards as far as she could manage, considering that she couldn't move her head, determined to take a look at herself. What she saw made her want to scream again. She was on the wall, which stretched down beneath her with nothing on it but some paint. Her vantage point on the wall made it difficult to discern the shape of the picture completely, but she could see enough to recognise her own body. It was a painting of herself. No, she was a painting of herself. She'd been transformed into a painting!

Why had this happened? Why was she a painting!? The transformed-goddess looked down at her flat, outlined-self, painted onto the wall of her own temple, and tried to make sense of her current situation. It must have been touching that graffiti. It was a trap, but not one designed to simply blind someone, rather one that turned the unsuspecting victim - her - into graffiti themselves. Ugh, thought the new-picture. I can't believe I fell for something like that. Still, being turned into a piece of art is irritating, but it shouldn't be that big a problem. I'm a goddess, right? All I need to do is call for Pit and have him find the cure! I mean, I know what caused it, so it should be easy to work out how to reverse it, right? ...Okay, Pit! I'm officially summoning you! Meet me at the left corner of the temple and help me turn back into a beautiful goddess!

...But there was no response. Hadn't he heard her? The goddess-turned-painting tried again, calling out with her mind as loudly as she could manage. But still, there was nothing. What was going on? Had something happened to Pit!? Desperately, she shouted out with her mind for Viridi, but continued to hear nothing in response. Were everyone's minds deaf, or something? What was- Then it dawned on her. Her blood would have run cold if she still had any. Nothing had happened to anyone else. It was her. She couldn't use her divine speech anymore because she was no longer a goddess. She was just a painting of a goddess now, of the goddess she used to be. Just a simple drawing on the temple's wall, with no more divine ability than any other picture anywhere in the heavens or the Earth.

The former-goddess screamed internally. She was just a piece of wall art now! Nothing more than a hieroglyphic representation of her old, non-inanimate self. How was she ever supposed to turn back if she was a simple hieroglyph!? She didn't want to spend the rest of eternity as a unmoving, silent image, clinging helplessly to the bricks behind her, unable to do anything but feel her own flat, paint-self slowly dry into the stonework, watching the grass in front of her grow as the seasons ticked by. ...What if it started raining!? Would she just be washed away into nothing? It never normally rained in Skyworld, but without her divine protection, who knew what would happen? Argh, she was a goddess, not graffiti! She'd go mad if she was stuck like this much longer!

"But you are graffiti," said a voice in her head. "Just an ugly decoration on the wall of that stupid temple of yours."

Medusa! You've come back to life again! thought the new-hieroglyph, furiously. You did this to me!

"Of course," said Medusa's voice, smugly. "And now, without their precious Goddess of Light to guide them, your hopeless army won't stand a chance against the might of the Underworld."

What? You're attacking us? You can't! screamed the girl-turned-painting internally. It is isn't fair! You have to change me back right now!

"Hah! I'm the Goddess of Darkness, remember? What do I care about fairness?" said Medusa, laughing. "And you want me to turn you back? Oh, Palutena, I hate you more than anyone, so why would I ever do that? No, I'm going to seize your temple and take my rightful place as queen of both Skyworld and the Underworld, whilst you're going to be stuck as a picture for the rest of time. Don't worry, I won't scrub you off the walls of my new temple, or anything. The idea of you losing your mind in that helpless, two-dimensional body of yours is just too delicious for words! Better get used to silence, though, because this is the last time you'll ever speak to anyone again, you ugly little smear of paint."

Medusa? Wait, Medusa! You can't just- I don't want to be a hieroglyph... Thought the transformed-goddess despondently, as her arch-enemy's voice dissappeared with a final cackle. But she was a hieroglyph now, and Medusa was gone. At least, her voice was. Already the former-goddess could see the sky around her darkening. The Underworld army was coming and all she could do was watch silently from this stupid wall she was going to be stuck on for the rest of her existence. Just as the new hieroglyph was sinking into despondency, though, she heard footsteps pounding her way and, before long, saw Pit standing in front of her.

"Lady Palutena?" he shouted, desperately. "Where are you? Medusa's attacking and we need your divine intervention!" Palutena was desperate, straining every fleck of paint that comprised her new, two-dimensional body, to reach out to the frantic-looking angel in front of her. To tell him that she was right there, that she needed his help to change back as much as he needed hers to defeat Medusa. But of course she couldn't. She was just paint now and paint cannot move or speak. But still, she felt as though her heart would have leapt when he looked straight at her. If she still had a heart, that is...

"Huh, I don't think I've ever seen this picture of Lady Palutena before... It's pretty good," said Pit, unknowingly staring at his transformed-goddess. "...But I can't waste my time looking at Palutena-artwork! Not when I need to find the real one!"

He ran away, shouting out for his goddess with renewed vigour, leaving the hieroglyph-which-had-been-Palutena alone again. She wanted to shout after him, but of course, she couldn't. She could only stare directly ahead of herself, listening to his receding footsteps and the thunder of the approaching Underworld Army. This was it. The fight was about to happen and she was stuck as a helpless piece of wall art. She couldn't even help by praying, because how was she supposed to pray to herself, especially when she was just a picture now? All she could do was hope that her army won without her, so that she wouldn't have to spend countless centuries stuck to this wall with Medusa gloating over her now-transformed self. That, and hope that the wall she was attached to wouldn't be broken during the fight. Being trapped as a hieroglyph was bad enough, but being trapped as scattered pieces of a hieroglyph attached to miscellaneous chunks of rubble would be even worse...

Commissioned by . Hope you like it!