“My Lady!”
The servant burst into the workshop without waiting for a response before entering. Deep in his soul, he felt a near anguishing guilt gnawing at him for this violation of the protocol that he felt it was his duty to protect, but he doggedly ignored it as he pressed on.
“My Lady! Outside! Something is taking place that you must see!”
Protocol was important, propriety was important, they were the hallmarks of civilization, the barriers that separated enlightened society from crude barbarism, but sometimes they had to be put aside in the face of tribulations and the unforeseen.
And what was happening outside was most certainly unforeseen.
It was still night, though the dawn would soon approach. The sliver of light across the horizon, however, was not the sun come early, not with the way it radiated divine power, enough for any to tell it was not some trivial illusion. That was why he had entered here without leave, that was why he was desperately seeking the goddess he acknowledged as his mistress.
The trailing sleeve of his robe caught upon the edge of a pot as he made his way deeper into the large workshop. Before he could do anything, the pot wobbled, then fell from the workbench to smash upon the tiled floor. He froze for a moment, his urgency battling the long-engrained habits that told him he should stop immediately and atone for his blunder. But he continued deeper into the maze of rooms and worktops. As soon as he had informed his Lady, he would kowtow to her and inform her of his transgression, accepting what punishments she saw as fitting for his transgression, but first, he must inform her of what was happening.
At last, he came to the centre of the workshop complex. A single room that his Lady had created to act as not only her main workplace but also as her inner sanctum, a place she could retreat to when she wished to be undisturbed. He had only been privileged to see it a single time when his goddess had raised her palace up upon the mortal plane and accepted him and a few select others to act as her honoured servants. It curdled his heart to think that he would now have to violate that tranquil sanctity, but he could not allow his Lady to be ignorant of what was happening, not when it could be momentous.
It could be the ascension of a new deity arriving upon the mortal plane. It could be the harbinger of an attack that was coming. It could be some far-off disaster. There was no way to know, but he knew that something so huge must be reported to his goddess!
The gates to the inner workshop were massive things, more appropriate to a fortress than to a deity’s inner sanctum. About it were five indentations carved into the frame. These were the spots where the keys, his Lady’s keys, must be placed in order for the door to open. This was as far as he could advance without being allowed in, so he steeled his nerves and raised his hand to beat upon the door.
“MY LADY!”
His hand balled into a fist so tight that the knuckles were white as bone, came down against the stone and metal of the gate . . . and froze in place as the door swung open before him, the balance and design of the gate and hinges so perfect that even the meagre force of his blow was enough to push them open.
How?! How could this be?! Why was the inner sanctum of his goddess open like this?!
As though in mocking answer to the questions rampaging through his mind, his eyes were drawn to a scroll, one lying before the open gate, one held in place by a small statue. On it, written in the elegant and precise characters of his Lady’s hand was a simple message.
“I thank you and all others for their service, but now I must go. I feel the power beyond the horizon and know that my blood has Awakened, and the Heavens now turn. I shall return in time, until then continue your duties and await me.”
The servant sank to his knees, his mind frozen. All he could think, all that the world was, revolved around a single question. What was happening that would cause . . . this?
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The god raised his head to stare at a blank wall.
Given that the chambers he currently occupied were buried underground in the side of a mountain it was hardly a surprise that there were no windows to let him see outside, but such trivial impediments were hardly of any hindrance to one such as he. Magic that would take a mortal decades to learn responded to his mere thoughts and granted him sight to see past the purely physical material.
Through rock and sand and metal he gazed out at the world. He gazed out and witnessed the vast sphere of divine power that dominated the northeastern sky like some silent tyrant moon sprung from nowhere. Gazing up at it he saw beyond what mere light could show, he saw the dance of different energies within the sphere. Powers that should have been at war, that should have been tearing the demigod apart, instead danced in magnificent harmony.
Seeing this his features creased into a grimace.
This . . . this was what had been lost to him by the incompetence of his agents. Had they succeeded, had they been able to bring the unawakened demigod to him, then that power would even now be at his service! It would have been so simple, there were so many ways to compel or trick loyalty from a mortal, ways that would have maintained that loyalty even after his Awakening. What he could have done with such an agent, with a demigod of this calibre at his command . . .
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
No! there was no point in dwelling over what could have been. Perhaps it had been his error, to send mortals after a target that was so clearly of great import. Yes, he had known that the young man was meant to become a demigod of great power, but he could not have anticipated the sheer scale of might that was being demonstrated. In hindsight, it was only to be expected that the High Heavens would see to the security of such a potentially powerful asset, and perhaps it had not been merely poor preparation that had led them to fail.
There was no way to be certain, but he would not allow indecision to paralyse him now. He had other plans in motion, other agents that were carrying out his will. For the time being the loss of this demigod was unfortunate, but as of yet it would not overly affect his plans.
As for the agents that had failed him . . . he would leave them to stew for a time, then he would give them another task they could undertake to make up for their failure. It would be a difficult task, something to challenge them and ensure that they retained their usefulness, but should they succeed then he would absolve them of their earlier failure. If they should fail again . . . well, several potent reagents could be extracted from a sorcerer’s body, both before and after they died.
A shift in the powers outside brought his attention back to the great orb of white light. It was shrinking now, the powers within it draining down towards its base, no doubt to be consumed in the final transition of the demigod from a purely mortal being into a semidivine one.
All that power, what he could have done with it . . .
This new demigod would warrant a lot of careful attention in the future, of that he was sure.
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Amidst the snowy mountains of northern Russia, a beautiful woman more than fifteen feet tall with skin as pale as snow and eyes as grey as a winter blizzard stared towards the sphere of white that was just visible over the horizon. Her hand tightened about the spear she held, but after a moment she relaxed.
A great power may have been born, but there was no reason to believe that it was a hostile one. She would wait, and she would learn. If it proved a danger then she would deal with it, and if it proved helpful then it may be a worthy ally, she was content to wait and see.
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In the Far East, upon the shores of Japan, the light of the great white orb could not be seen, but that did not mean its presence was not felt.
In a shrine out in the countryside, an old monk knelt before an altar. In the background incense burnt, filling the small building with the scent of prayers, but that was of no consequence to the kneeling man. Instead, his focus was elsewhere, upon the pulse of power that he could feel spreading across the world. In the shadows of the shrine figures of indistinct form moved, flitting about as swiftly as shadows moving with the flicker of a flame, gathering, waiting for an order. In response, the old monk simply held up a hand.
There would be no action today, but in the future, there might be a need to extend an open hand, and if not then perhaps a blade in the shadows would do.
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In the jungles of Brazil, a maiden hunted amidst the foliage. At her side moved great cats, their bodies empowered and enlarged by her power. In her hands, she held a spear tipped not with metal, but with stone. Her form was a lithe beauty, one that matched the cats that hunted with her, and on her strong face was a fierce smile. The hunt had been good today, the interlopers having been driven off and the natural balance of plants and animals in the area had been returned to their proper levels by her power.
Still, despite her eagerness to enjoy the jungle she had revitalized, she paused in her stride, the large cats stopping as well as she turned to face the northeast.
There was power there, power that made the hairs on her skin rise in both excitement and trepidation. It was not a feeling she was used to experiencing. Something had changed in the world, and she was unsure of how it would affect her.
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In a high-tech lab, one marked on no official documents and known only to a select few, sirens and klaxons were wailing, and red lights were flashing.
All around personnel were dashing about, chaos setting in as equipment sparked and popped, seemingly at random. Protocols that had been set up with such a situation in mind failed one after another as machines whined and instrumentation smoked. Where once there had been the order of professionals at work now there was only the bedlam of confusion and panic.
There was a single calm centre though, a single figure that refused to yield to the spreading hysteria. A single lab coat-wearing figure remained at their station and stared at the readouts on their screen, every detail searing itself into their memory. Even as equipment that was the result of months of secret effort and enormous expense melted down as it tried to measure and analyse the overwhelming power outside the figure remained calm. The screen sparked, sputtered, dissolved into static and went out, but the figure didn’t care, they had already seen the data. As they turned to leave, a single word passed their lips, lost in the hubbub about them.
“Magnificent.”
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The crouched form stepped out of the shadow of the building as he watched the massive globe of light shrink away until it disappeared beneath the western horizon, his eyes glaring hatefully into the distance where it had been.
Were one to look upon the figure then they would have realized that there was no way that he could be considered human. His shoulders were too broad, his neck too long, his legs bent in ways that a human could never have managed, and the hands that clutched at his large coat were too large and clawed to be mistaken for those of a man. More than that though, the exposed skin of his hands and face was burnt and blistered where the light of the sphere had touched them. Even as the light began to retreat small wisps of smoke still rose from the scorched skin, a silent testament to the heat that had seared them.
A threat, something that needed to be dealt with, that was the only way in which the light could be regarded. Lips curled away from teeth too sharp and barbed to do anything but rip and tear.
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Around the world dozens, then hundreds of beings sensed the pulse of power as it raced across the surface of the planet, then reached out into the void in which the spheres of creation danced. Some had seen the great white orb of radiance that had illuminated half the globe, others simply sensed the power, and some few even felt the threads of fate and destiny shiver and quake as possibilities that had not existed before sprang into being.
Many saw, while few understood, but all knew one thing; a new power had emerged.