***
Burning River Bravery.
The northernmost place in Saana inhabited by semi-civilised people was an active volcanic island called Laka'eemena in the Rongbitan archipelago. Covering this island year-round were sheets of ice multiple stories thick that prevented commercial agriculture. Thus, the locals made their livelihood trading precious gemstones spat out by their volcano.
The method of collecting these gemstones was quite unique. Whenever lava flowed out of the volcano, the most courageous islanders, the Burning River Braves, magically augmented their bodies to be denser and then, with their buddies spamming heals on them, they swam inside the lava and harvested gems before they burned to a crisp. Logically speaking, the Braves had no need to subject themselves to this danger. They could have easily waited for the lava to cool and extracted the gems through mining. Alas, any time a compact was made to switch to this safer practice, some bold, impulsive fellow, perhaps motivated by greed, perhaps by the desire to impress a pretty island lass, inevitably betrayed the collective by taking a hot dip and sniping the uncontested prize gems, in turn forcing everyone else's hand. Such was the tragic, short-sighted condition of mankind.
Henry wouldn't be studying lava-swimming – the skill was no challenge without the punishment for early mistakes being permanent death. Rather, his interests were in the Laka'eemenan's side-gig. During periods of volcanic inactivity, the Braves gathered supplementary income by speed-running their island's few dungeons to collect items for sale. To this dungeoneering tradition, the same competitiveness and bodily disregard of their lava-swimming had been transferred. The Braves, in the pursuit of speed, took extreme physical risks that others never would - a tank might welcome an enemy axe-strike through three-quarters of his neck just to utilise the opening of their raised arm to drive his sword an inch deeper for the lethal blow; a mage, to finish their spell one second faster, might accept five stabs when the sixth would be fatal.
Through this recklessness, the Burning River Braves had mastered the fine art of the trade, the calculated exchange of blood for more blood.
Henry followed in their bold example and devoted 2.8 years exclusively to balancing on the narrow high-wire between true perfection and mortal failure.
***
So came the Maelstrom, a turbulent, continent-smothering weather anomaly, whose impassable walls of thunder, wind, ice, and secret magics sucked whales from the seas and clouds from the sky.
Karnon's homeland on the periphery of the Maelstrom suffered an instantaneous change in climate that devastated the native warm-adapted crops. Simultaneously, the maritime traffic that'd passed through them to The Maalundi Empire ceased. There were three Maalundi colony clusters outside the Maelstrom's range with whom Togavi'd frequently traded, two in Basindi and Aion Laisije to the south, one in Heimland to the north. The first two, although distant enough to be unimpacted severely by the Maelstrom, were suddenly mired in war, as factions competed for who would dominate in the post-Maalundi power vacuum. The Heimland colony was less fortunate; already in the frosty northern latitudes, it was hit worse by the Maelstrom than anyone, made totally uninhabitable.
Togavi, unable either to grow food or to import it, was beset by famine and system collapse.
Starving neighbours murdered each other over handfuls of grain, those with farming talents were enslaved by warlords and forced to tend private underground gardens, newborns crying for their mother's dried-up milk were soothed by the frozen elements. Delicate networks of travel and communication were blown away by the tempest winds, and the secluded settlements, their numbers dwindling, were overrun by monsters they could no longer hold at bay. (Henry'd read many of these accounts while studying the Tulipsingers, who'd become active during this era and who'd immortalised the hardship in poetic epics. It was a miserable time.)
Karnon and The Sons fought desperately to distribute rations, but their islands were too mountainous and scattered, the decline too sudden. Within a few decades, four-fifths of the population they'd nurtured and built up over The Age of Wine were dead.
While Togavi deteriorated, the two southern Maalundi colonies began after a century of conflict to settle their contest of succession.
The Aion Laisije colonists claimed a huge swathe of territory with 122 million subjects, corresponding to the three modern areas of Ejapipilu, Qannonzeni, and Traxia. The Basindi colonists were less successful, being defeated and subjugated by a native God who'd given himself the supremely cocky title of God-Emperor after unifying his entire region, consisting of 196 million subjects, and making himself the strongest entity in the word's eastern half.
Throughout these southern wars, many deities, no longer restrained by The Maalundi Emperor and nourished by their enemy's spilt blood, were raised into the ranks of Tier-11 Lowgods, the last step on the climb of power before Cosmic Ascension.
Finally, the new rulers came to terms by drawing their lines on their maps.
Here, there were no direct reports of what happened, the deities keeping their communications private, but a rough outline of what must have taken place could be inferred. It seemed that their negotiations had eventually turned to mineral-rich Togavi, whose defences were non-existent after its collapse. The scheme was likely hatched by The Eighth Son of The Maalundi Emperor, Prince Barafka, who'd previously ruled the destroyed Heimland colony and since joined the southern wars. He must have convinced the Gods from the rival factions of Aion Laisije and Basindi that he should be given control of Togavi. Being neutral, he would trade with both of them impartially, and the islands' desolation would limit him from growing beyond their control. Moreover, if the Maelstrom cleared up and contact was re-established with his empire, then his father, Glorious Seekubaa, would remember their favourable treatment of him.
In 1808, the conspirators enacted the takeover. Despite Togavi's miserable state, the invaders retained the memory of Karnon thwarting Glorious Seekubaa. Refusing to take any chances, 5 Tier-11 Lowgods infiltrated the islands, spreading themselves out, then, on a designated hour, they attacked. This time, there was to be no last-second, surprise counterplan. The Sons—weakened by the collapse and scattered trying to plug their nation's leaks—were slaughtered.
Karnon's end was to be carried out by one of the Lowgods, Sahali, The Turtle King Viceroy Bambale's former turtle. After its master's death, the creature had been reared in secret by The Maalundi Emperor as a countermeasure to Sarff. (From this fact, incidentally, it could be deduced that Seekubaa had genuinely been motivated by goodwill when he'd not annihilated Togavi after Karnon had levelled from killing The All-Mother's assassins. He could have conquered the islands at his pleasure.) Sahali, post-Maelstrom, had switched allegiances to Basindi's God-Emperor. Wanting vengeance for Viceroy Bambale, the turtle volunteered for the job, ambushing Karnon and Sarff at sea. The pair were caught while evacuating a tiny community of survivors from an atoll bordering the Maelstrom. Sahali slew Sarff, but the sea-serpent managed to stall long enough for Karnon to flee.
Details of Karnon's escape were kept private, but it could be inferred that he'd fled by allowing himself to be sucked into the Maelstrom. This both coincided with his proximity to it during the ambush and explained why Sahali had been unable to capture him, the creature not being suicidal enough to tempt the empire-erasing anomaly. Suggesting a surety of his demise, the invading Gods returned to their domains, leaving Prince Barafka to install his regime. (How Karnon would survive the Maelstrom had been a topic of great speculation, mulled over by history's academics, including many contemporary player Scholars. Henry himself didn't know the correct answer. His investigations of Karnon might one day provide clues; however, the Maelstrom was likely far beyond the present scope.)
Prince Barafka, trying to set up his replacement administration, was plagued with hiccups. His mines caved in, his guard outposts were demolished by earthquakes, his traders were ravaged by wild beasts, his ships exploring for safe passageways were swallowed by the waves. Initially, in his letters to his subordinates, he'd assumed that these disasters were the by-products of the Maelstrom, part of the new, harsher way of life it had created.
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The mauling of a governor by an azure lion clarified that The Eighth Prince's opponent was not nature but man.
The other Gods who'd orchestrated the invasion, having a foreboding premonition from Karnon's unexplained survival, immediately travelled to Togavi to join Prince Barafka in the man-hunt. Theirs, however, was no easy prey. Much as a person's weight and muscles over a mouse are irrelevant when chasing one through the brambles of a forest, the deities were unable to bring their strength to bear against Karnon in his native habitat. In the centuries he'd tended the land, its hiding places had been seared into his soul. The Gods tried lures, rounding up his azure-haired descendants for hostages and executing them. Karnon, driven entirely by the animal instinct of self-preservation, never bit.
While The Eighth Prince was struggling, a brother-sister pair of sibling deities who ruled Manger in Heimland crossed a 140km strait between their territory and Togavi with an army, annexing the western half. Prince Barafka threatened the daring pair with a violent reckoning when his father reappeared. The siblings replied they'd deal with the consequences if that ever happened.
In 1805, three years after Togavi's conquest, the first recorded instance of a lone Smallgod killing a Lowgod occurred when Karnon walked into The Eighth Prince's court and slew him in single combat. The insurmountable challenge was that Lowgods, having the option to fly away when in danger, needed to be killed in one seamless attack. To achieve this feat, Karnon didn't rely on anything special. He was just, on a martial level, astronomically more skilled than his opponent, such being the difference between those born at the top and those who reach it only after willing their two legs up the hard, unforgiving slope. This miracle kill propelled him into the Lowgod ranks.
Upon hearing the sinister news, eleven Lowgods from Aion Laisije and Basindi allied together and descended upon Togavi to stamp him out. The previous invaders, terrified of retribution, were joined by new faces who feared a rising power that might re-disturb the world's fragile post-Maalundi balance. Their decision was to be a mistake.
Henry'd tracked down three separate sources describing the meeting between Karnon and the other Gods that followed. There was a public apologia from an Aionian God to her mourning citizens, a biography of an advisor to a Basindi God who'd heard their drunken rant, and a tell-all news exclusive by an anonymous fisherman who claimed to have been passing by the vicinity. As for Karnon's actions elsewhere in the world, there were countless writings from the surviving victims.
When the alliance of Gods converged on Togavi, they were astounded to meet an unafraid Karnon on the southern coast, standing in the open before a pyramid of hundreds of thousands of personal effects - sacks of tea leaves from the fields of Wankalga, sculptures carved out of Omisun stone, colossal nets with fresh fish dragged out of Qannonzeni's Blood River. To the Gods recognising each something stolen from their homelands, Karnon raised a pinky finger. After the Maelstrom and their invasion, he declared, 26 million Togavian souls had perished. In the brief few hours it'd taken them to reach him, he'd used magic of his own invention to visit each of their unguarded territories, from which he'd collected 2.6 million in repayment. This figure represented a tenth of their debt to him - one finger. From whosoever stepped foot on his land, he promised to reclaim the full two hands.
The Gods couldn't verify his claim immediately, communication magic being unavailable until modern times. Many doubted the boast, a globe-traversing spell being inconceivable before Ascension. The harshest criticisms came from a God who served as the Admiral of the Basindi navy and controller of the islands of the Basindi North Sea, the stretch of water between that region and Togavi. This role made the Admiral the likeliest candidate to govern Togavi after Karnon's death. This incentive made him the blindest to the presented evidence.
Accusing Karnon of bluffing with his pyramid of counterfeits, the Admiral charged, failing when his adversary was dragged into the earth by vines. The Gods searched and searched, upheaving the soil, smashing apart hills, pushing back the waves to check the coastal floor.
When, a short while later, Karnon emerged a safe distance away, he presented the belongings from each of Basindi's now-dead Vice Admirals and his extended ring finger to mark 2.6 million more.
Before the Admiral could consider attacking again, he was converted into a cloud of soul-lights from a single slap by The God-Emperor. Basindi's supreme ruler gave his apologies to Karnon on behalf of everyone for their hubris. To make amends, he forfeited the Admiral's territorial possessions and declared that the North Sea would thenceforth and until the end of The Cycle be called the Togavian Sea. Karnon replied with an additional request, for an uninterrupted fight with Sahali, the slayer of his friend. The God-Emperor laughed at this, saying he'd rather watch both their countries die.
On this precarious endnote, the invading deities, not one of them attempting to retrieve any possessions from the pyramid, departed to repair their demolished kingdoms.
(The anonymous fisherman source recounted a slightly different version of this climax wherein The God-Emperor had to chase the Admiral for hours in an embarrassing Benny-Hill-esque scramble. Henry recognised the prose style as Karnon's, the farcical account written at a much later date.)
After dealing with this group of invaders, the azure-haired God visited the siblings from Manger who'd annexed Togavi's western half, and he ordered them to also leave.
As the brother deity, Vollus, later described in a groomsman speech, he was startled when his sister, Donnera, parried with a counterproposal.
The Goddess, in a symbolic gesture, gave Karnon a mirror with which to inspect himself. Karnon was off-put but not surprised by the wild man glancing back at him, his hair a tangle of knots and twigs, his clothes soiled with years of sweat, his eyes—buried in a gaunt, grime-caked face—hard and feral like a scowling wolf's. While he studied his savage reflection, Donnera asked him whether such a brute was in any state to oversee the lives of men, whether he could ever regain the soft palms needed to cradle the tender infants of the nation. Wouldn't they, she argued, be safer under a more maternal care? Behold her deeds: while he'd been preying on her best people like a mountain lion snatching sheep, she'd connected remote villages back with the main hubs, wiped out plagues, experimented with cold-weather cultivation, rebuilt fortifications, all while never once harming the natives. Moreover, Togavi, still besieged by the Maelstrom, would need external assistance for its reconstruction. Which of the surrounding territories was he going to rely on for his people's future? Basindi? Aion Laisije? Those regions whose leaders had spared no consideration before trying to kill him? No, he should glance west, to his nearest neighbour, whose sole crime had been helping him foil the entitled Eighth Prince. All she requested in exchange for continuing her help was half. With half of this broken land, Donnera promised to reinvigorate and support the whole. Karnon could take a much-needed rest, and she would handle the tedious business of rebuilding, treating his people as kindly as her own. What was the risk? If she failed to honour this agreement, couldn't he, who alone had rebuffed two empires, stamp out her measly self? To ease his concerns, they could always get married - then his and hers would be theirs. (The brother Vollus, who'd been convinced to stage the annexation by his sister, praised her foresight and cunning to the wedding guests.)
Karnon, having indeed witnessed Donnera's fair rule while dwelling in the highlands, requested a short respite to get his head straight and weigh the decision. In the half-decade afterwards and before their wedding, he built Sarff's Rest bone by bone, the world wonder where Henry'd undergone his Earthfriend initiation, the small pocket of Togavi restored to its sunny state before the storm.
The Trickster God's chronicle up until this point was fairly sensible. If he'd never done another thing, he would have gone down as one of Saana's dark heroes, someone who'd solved difficult problems through difficult choices. However, this marked merely five out of the twenty-three hundred years that he'd been alive. It was in the remainder that he devolved into 'The Trickster God' of today, a contemptible, madness-inducing pest.
For seven centuries, from 1800 BP to 1108, nothing remarkable occurred politically in Togavi. With the islands under Donnera's management, Karnon wasted his days abroad, revelling in a frivolous orgy of adventuring and pranks as, without his brothers anymore to provide grounding, he seemed to regress to the degenerate habits of his youth. The main targets of his harassment were the world's other deities, especially The God-Emperor and Sahali The Turtle. His victims, terrified of re-evoking his genocidal wrath, learned to tolerate his antics, accepting them as an inescapable cost of peace.
On the domestic front, the azure-haired Togavians made a comeback, their numbers exploding with each successive generation. His progeny were prized sons- and -daughter-in-laws by the citizens, who worshipped the folk hero that'd founded their independent country, held them intact through disaster, and defeated a wide cast of deities by himself. Karnon frequently contributed with his own lascivious escapades. Consequently, his charms wore off on Donnera, who divorced him, initiating a cultural split between Togavi's two halves, her western side merging with her and her brother's people of Manger. Nevertheless, she honoured her agreement to continue supporting the east while her ex-husband gallivanted. (Some romantics theorised that the Goddess harboured a continued adoration for her blue beau. Henry, who'd met the shrewd, calculating woman in person, knew that she would have seized any opportunity to kill him. Her sole reason for keeping her promise had been fear.)
A brief intermission to Karnon's silly antics took place in 1108, when The Trickster God randomly carried out the most monumental feat of his existence, killing The All-Mother who'd been growing unrestrained in the west.