A wizened old woman slowly walked around her courtyard. The time was coming soon, the shoots of new growth proved it. For a thousand years her courtyard had been a desolate, brick hard, stretch of broken ground. It’s only source of moisture, were the tears of a nearly forgotten Goddess. But as the time of the celestial equinox approached, mana was leaking in. A drop at a time, true. But celestial mana was akin to an ocean, compared to the emptiness she had been forced to endure.
Her aged body was starting to renew. She felt her cheeks again, in wonderment. Her wrinkles were almost gone. Soon she would be willing to look upon her reflection again. She reached her hand down to hover an inch over a new verdant shoot. Molecules of mana trickled up into her palm. Her hand visibly smoothed, the arthritic swelling reducing. “Soon, soon I will be me again.”
Abruptly she felt a summons, the pantheon was meeting. There had not been a meeting of the full court in so long…. her clouded mind could not remember. She sighed in vexation. Along with her body, her mind was repairing. But thousands of years of rot cannot be fixed overnight.
The crone hobbled towards the small shrine, at the head of an ancient stone temple. She placed her hand upon her sigil. Her consciousness flowed to the grand temple. She appeared, coalescing into being. She opened her eyes seeing her first sight of the Oculus. No, not her first sight…she had been here before. So long ago… she glanced around taking in the majesty around her.
The hundreds of spires lining the walls. Each with a different sigil engraved upon it. Most were faded, barely perceptible. They rose hundreds of feet into the sky. All leading to a domed roof. In the center of the dome was the Oculus. A circular opening that the temple was named for. It was an opening that gazed upon, the entirety of existence. Dancing sedately in the cosmos.
Movement around her drew her attention away, down past the pillars. Indistinct forms moved around, their faces flickering. The group of cloaked figures morphed from form, to form with each passing second. Some grew to titanic size, than shrunk down to miniature. Just to swell back to just over six foot tall. Some dropped down onto all fours, claws protruding. To then rise on crooked legs.
Only two stood out unchanging. An older smooth skinned male. His proudly bearded face stood upon a long neck. It was his eyes that gave him away. Piercing cold blue eyes stared out in hate, at everything around him. He was clothed in a very modern style tailored suit. With a shiney black cane topped with a diamond as large as an apple.
The other unchanging one was just as striking, but in a different way. His form was that of an ancient medieval knight. His armor was of black glossy scales of metal, shining out. A miasma of darkness pored out from every crease of the armor. Barely holding back the horror within. From the double eye slits in the helmet, a burning red inferno blazed out. It gripped a massive great sword driven into the ground. The sword glowed faintly with a green hue.
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War once called Ares, and Greed once called Mammon were powerful. They had followers, and worshipers in the millions. Mammon locked eyes with the crone, and sneered. “Ah Mythra, I see you haven’t quite faded into obscurity yet. Pity… it would have been more merciful if you had faded away. That way i wouldn’t need to look upon your vile visage.” His cultured voice hid its contempt, not at all. Mythra glared at him with just as much contempt. “I may not have as many followers as you, but the prophecy soon comes.”
Ares turned to look at Mythra. His voice came out strongly a combination of screaming voices. “Temper your words wretch. We all know of the coming days. You will not survive.” Mammon sniffed haughtily. “Old wives tales, drunken oracles, half blind seers. We should believe them? No prophecy will change my world. I have spent years guiding the chattle to do as I say. This is my world, ill not share it with the likes of you.” Ares turned to Mammon saying. “Your world?” Mammon gave a slight chin lift towards Ares. “Our world than, but noone else’s.”
A flash of light from the Oculus caused everyone to stop in place. Before them the shape of the Emissary appeared. His words spoke to us all at once. “You are incorrect Mammon. The pact was signed. The return of mana has already begun. This was never your world alone. You are just a facet of the Creator. You are emotion given form, nothing more.”
The Emissary turned slowly to look on each figure. As his gaze touched them, they solidified. “You are all called many names, you are all shown by many faces. But all are aspects of life, and rebirth. Prepare yourselves for soon the convergence will happen. The humans are not prepared. They are weak, they are soft, they will not survive without you. Find your champions, for soon they will have to fight for the right to survive.”
The Emissary looked up at the Oculus. “He awakens…” With that he vanished. The silence after his departure was palpable. Then with a deafening roar the pantheon of gods all cheered out at once. All save two, they looked around the assembly in distaste.
Ares roared out suddenly causing the others to falter. “Prepare your champions well. Teach them how to hide. Show them the deepest caves, the darkest pits. For I will hunt them down. Only my children will survive the culling. I have been training legions. My armies will march. None shall be safe.” With that his form exploded in a rising pillar of acrid smoke.
Mammon glared at the place his former ally once stood. His glare transfered to all the other gods. “Money is power, power corrupts, corruption devours everything. My grasp touches everything, and everyone. This is my world. None shall steal what is mine. I’ll destroy you all.” He chuckled slightly as he continued. “What Area's forgets is that without coin, noone can afford to war.” With that statement his form dissolved away.
Disheartened the remaining shadows of the former Gods, silently returned to their ancient seats of power. What little they had left. Mythra silently swore to herself. She would not give up, she would survive… she hoped. What the other gods did not know, was she had also been preparing for this day.