In the Heavens:

The rusty fetters squealed, slowly scraping across the floor. Rats scattered in the dark and musty room.

BANG***BANG***BANG***

The blows of the hammer were an eternal clock. How long had he been slaving away making tools and accessories for the seven gods? The thousands of unique pieces he crafted must have gone to waste.

A clenched hand awoke him from his daze as he was thrown against the wall. 

"What the hell are you doing daydreaming! You better have them done by tomorrow!"

The blacksmith trembled on the ground in a jumbled mess while grasping at something in his pocket.

A quizzical look sprung upon the god's face as he noticed the slave's arm clench.

"What do you have in you pocket?"

The blacksmith's eyes widened but he didn't respond.

"HUH?"

The god lifted the slave by his collar with his left hand as he tore a small crudely carved wooden doll out of his grasp. Glancing at the figure the god tossed it into the fire. 

"Slaves don't have belongings"

The god threw the blacksmith back down, leaving the room with a disgusted look on his face.

The blacksmith sat there, his amber hair a matter mess, his white skin black from the grime of labor, and his hazel eyes devoid of any shine. A sudden wave of anger flowed over him, remembering his daughter's faint smiles, clutching the doll with her delicate fingers. Forcing himself to stand up, he suppressed his emotions as the sound of the hammer resumed.

**********

White misty clouds walked across the expansive sky. Amongst the clouds a pristine temple shone with radiance. Its white pillars held up an impressive structure that was of an equally impressive size.

Even with this head plastered against the cool marble the light was burning into the back of his eyes. Although he had been in front of the gods many times, he could never get used to their presence and he was especially nervous today. 

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"Rise"

The slave stood up slowly blinking his eyes rapidly and fighting not to block the light with his hands placed respectfully behind his back. Seven thrones towered over him in a semi circle making him feel like a worthless ant. In front of each throne was a stand with a dazzling piece of jewelry as well as a black ring for each of the gods.

The god in the middle pondered, picking up the black ring.

"What is this black ring?"

Each black ring itself was breathtakingly captivating. Each ring had an immense aura as the depth of blackness of each ring seemed to hold no bounds, absorbing all the bright light around it.

The slave slowly bowed his head until his face was perpendicular to the ground.

"An attempt to compensate for my laziness towards work. I hope this additional piece can earn forgiveness."

The god on the far right looked excitedly towards the center god as if probing for permission, unable to mask his curiosity.

"Its not often we have identical pieces, we should all try them on."

The god in the center nodded giving permission for them to try on the rings.

Each of the gods eagerly slid the smooth onyx ring admiring cool touch to the hand as it perfectly fit each of their finger.

By the time each of them had put it on it was too late to realize. In a flash each of the dark rings ominously emitted a surge of pure darkness that quickly dissipated. A gust of wind swept through the palace, sweeping away the dusty remains of the gods as six rings harmoniously clattered onto the marble floor. It had happened within the blink of an eye, but each of the gods had turned to dust. 

The slaves fell to his knees, breathing heavily as if he had just ran a mile. It was usually godly powers he infused into his work, so pouring his own mortality into the rings was a hard task for a night's work. He had done it. He didn't know if it would work but by cramming the essence of mortality so densely into the rings, all godly powers were stripped away for the wearer. Instantaneously the immortals had turned into mortals who had already lived long past their life span, so much so that only dust remained.

He got up and slowly approached the center throne.

Never had the lights seemed brighter.

Never had his heart felt lighter.

Never in a million years did he think he would be free.

Picking up a large chain with a cross twice the size of his hand, he slipped it around his neck. A sharp buzz jolted his head and his blood started to flow with ease. An earring, a bracelet, two rings, an arm band, and a circlet. His recent creations had been for himself and not the gods. He made sure to seal all the black rings into a wooden case void of any ornate designs, yet he was missing one. After a thorough search he decided it was not a big deal, after all the gods were gone and he was free. Memories of his former life flooded the gates of his mind as he began to remember his obscure past. 

He raised his right hand to look at his palm and then flipped it to see the back of his hand. A smug smile came to his face as he remembered something important.

"I am Juro."

He let out a light chuckle that soon turned into a booming laughter that flowed throughout the expansive sky.

Juro looked around at the palace one more time and in snap and a flash he was gone.