Where do I begin?

That's a question my fans from the theatre used to ask me often. But the thing is.....I've been asking that question myself for centuries.

I don't know where I come from or who my parents are. All I remember is my name. But thanks to my journey to and time at the theatre I have made new memories. In fact I perfectly remember my journey to the theatre. Back when it was a celebrated establishment.

I was from a small village. I lived in an orphanage in that small village where I loved watching street acting troupes perform from my window. The traveling bards and dance festivals I couldn't get enough of. I loved watching them all throughout my childhood. One day when I was older I packed my luggage, grabbed my parasol, and left to go make it big as a performer. 

I tried to join the productions of different theaters but none accepted me. I went from town to town looking for a theatre who would give me a part. But it was hopeless. Nobody wanted me. Nobody needed me. I wasn't good enough for anyone. No matter how hard I tried. I just kept. Failing. I considered going back to the orphanage. Until...she approached.

"Hello there young man," She said. She was a woman with glistening silver hair. Her eyes shimmered like sapphires. Her skin radiated with the warmth of the sun. "H-hello," I said. "Why are you wallowing here all alone?" She asked. "Well I have been trying to find a theatre that will give me a part in a production but no matter what town I go to or how hard I try no theatre will accept me. Maybe i'm just not good enough to be a star shining on the stage," I told her. She placed a hand on my shoulder. All of a sudden the cold of my misery seemed to vanish. Just by her touch I felt encouraged to go on. "Maybe you're just not looking in the right place. I hear that there's a theatre just in the next town that's looking for a lead in their new production. And just my looking into your eyes I can guarantee that you'll get the part," She said. Somehow I knew in my heart that she was telling the truth. So I smiled at her and left immediately for the next town. When I turned back to ask for her name she was gone. It seemed that she had vanished leaving behind a butterfly on a windowsill. I continued to the next town.

She was right. In the next town there was a theatre looking for a lead in their production and I auditioned. And she was right about me getting the part. I had finally done it. That was my first perfect performance at Papillon Souvenirs Theatre. I became one of the group. I was a member of the theatre. During that time I discovered my abilities as a witch and used those in our productions. I was a celebrated star in the theatre and the town. That was until less and less people began showing up. Until not a single soul was coming to the theatre to watch our shows. We were forgotten. The entire theatre were about to give up. But I wouldn't let that happen. I went out of the theatre and tried to advertise it and our shows but nobody remembered us. I kept trying to jog their memories. It was that determination that showed that my worth to the divinities and I ascended to become one of them. I ascended to godhood. I had become the god of memories. My hair turn completely blue. I was adorned in an outfit of divine white decorated with blue jewels. Blue butterfly wings sprouted out of my back with the tips being covered in white translucent fabric. My feet barely covered by my new outfit. I couldn't believe it. I had actually become a god. But my ascension didn't stop the others of the theatre from leaving. So I remained in human form. What's the point of being in my divine form if I had nobody to see it?

Centuries have passed since then. I am still alone. And yet the theatre still stands. But like me the theatre is alone. But since I am alone. Why do I need to be in human form? I am a god. I left my human form and returned to my divine self. But that does not change my loneliness. Nor does it change the theatre in any way. I am alone. It seems even the divine have no control over who remembers them. Not even.....

Clix: The Forgotten Butterfly God of Memories, Divine Form