Natio gasped for air as his head emerged from the sea of blood. He struggled to make headway — the red expanse was harder to maneuver in than it had any right to be — but shortly after a wave of blood robbed him of his vision he suddenly found himself on solid ground. He shook off the red-brown sludge as best he could, large parts still clinging to his arms and legs.
No matter how hard he tried to scrub it, the blood would not come off. Even using the piece of soap he now held in his hand as well as the bucket of water by his feet offered no help. Only when he let out a frustrated scream at the futility of his work did the blood finally yield, peeling from his arm to reveal perfectly polished white and gold armour.
If he wore this suit of armour, his God could not be far away. Only the chosen of Vigil were allowed to wear this, and he would sully that honour by being late. Natio was about to step through the large door in front of him when he felt something pierce his chest and touch his very Soul.
He reflexively closed his eyes from the pain, grabbing blindly at what had impaled him. Much to his surprise, he found that it was an arm. Opening his eyes revealed that the arm belonged to a winged Elven woman that held him aloft with her hand buried deep in his chest. He looked to her face, but instead of eyes he found there was only an ever-shifting kaleidoscope of colours, the patterns he saw causing his mind itself to bend. He wanted to look away, desperately so, but he could not.
"What?" he mumbled, mostly to himself as the Elf, who continued to hold him fast, ignored his presence. He tried to free himself again, but despite his blessings, he did not manage to move the woman's arm even the slightest bit. Desperate for a way out, Natio tried to pray to his God; only to hear his own voice, asking him to help.
Before he could question his own words, the Elf removed her hand from his chest, and with it ripped something that had once lain within him. She spread her wings, beating them once and kicking off from the ground. Reality itself crumbled away as the winged Elf vanished, leaving Natio hanging in an endless abyss of inky black. Natio wanted to yell — to scream — but there was no air to carry the sound of his voice. He tried to take a breath, but nothing entered his lungs. And yet, he coughed, ridding himself of the last bit of air he had still had inside of him.
He wanted to curse his God for allowing this to happen to him, wanted to curse that Elf for whatever she had done, but even that ability had been taken from him. His mana was leaving his body, tiny streams of dim blue light flowing from his fingertips. Calling it back did not work, his connection to his powers severed by a being that he had not known to exist.
As the last bit of magic had left his body, a System window began to coalesce in front of him, made from the mana that had just been taken from him.
"What?" Natio repeated himself, his voice echoing through the empty expanse. He stretched out his hand to touch the window that floated in front of him, taking a step forward to reach it. His feet found purchase on a ground he could not see — could not feel — but was there nonetheless. "What is happening?"
When his fingers touched the screen, he screamed, letting go to hold his head with both hands. Something was racing through his mind, burning everything it touched, showing him memories he could not recall making. He saw himself ascend to Godhood under the watchful eye of Vigil. How he joined the [War in Heaven] on the side of his benefactors. How he had killed again and again to keep the favour of his patrons even though he had become a God himself. How he had doomed an entire world because Vigil told him to.
He wanted to reject what he saw; declare it a lie. Slander. But he knew it to be true. He knew those were his memories. Knew that what he was living through now was his reckoning. She had taken her time, had given him hope. Natio had always known this day would come. She had allowed him to live, let his sentence be proclaimed by mortals. But now she was back to take her due. It was inevitable. Just like they always said.
Vigil and Inanis had always told him that they would pay if she came back. There had never been a name or title. She was only ever… she. Unnamed and evil. Forbidden. Natio knew her name now, knew what she could do. Would do, he corrected himself. He would embrace his punishment. He had made a choice when he followed Vigil, and now was the time to pay the price for that. A second chance was not something he deserved.
Sweat ran down Natio's forehead as he tried to pull his hands free of the System's window. No matter how hard he tried, they were stuck fast. His next attempt was answered by the screen dissolving back into mana, then rapidly returning, flowing like water, into his hands. He crumpled to the ground, barely able to keep himself on his hands and knees as his life played before his eyes again; this time backwards.
Natio gasped for breath as his eyes shot open and he sat up straight in his bed.
His actual bed in the real world.
He threw his blanket off him as he tried his best to take deep, measured breaths. Getting a Class was nothing like Vigil had said it was. He had never mentioned nonsensical dreams, nor the possibility of some weird version of the All-Mother barging into his mind to smash said dreams.
He shook his head and rubbed his eyes as he tried to focus on the feeling in the back of his mind. The System had a message for him and he wanted to see.
[Fallen Servant of the Void]
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You have forsaken your oaths and your people. You have murdered and enslaved in the name of your God and your own power. You shall serve those you have damned, bringing their Souls back to their rightful place of rest; cleanse those that remain of the stain your kind has dirtied them with.
Previously acquired levels cannot be applied to this class and will be lost.
[Focus]
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Soul: You must heal what you helped destroy.
[Actives]
Active Skill Slots: 1(Can be increased with Class levels up to a maximum of 5. Skill cannot be exchanged.)
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[Cleanse Soul (Special)]: Call on the River of Souls to heal a Soul of its ailments.
[Passives]
Passive Skill Slots: 5 (Skills cannot be exchanged.)
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[Master Mage (IX)]: Your proficiency with mana rivals the Gods. 10% increased mana and 5% increased effect of your spells per 10 intelligence.
[Sword Saint (X)]: Your skill with the blade is unmatched. You may channel your mana through every sword. Damage with swords is increased by 15% per 10 strength and agility. 5% increased agility and strength.
[Fallen Divine (Special)]: You may no longer call yourself a God, but your former brethren still find it hard to touch you. Grants immunity to curses. Grants immunity to blessings.
[Sins of the Past (Special)]: Your sins are too many to count and your conscience not clean. Experience and stat gain reduced by 50%. Stats reduced by 15%.
[Ire of the All-Mother (Special)]: Your past actions have caught the ire of the All-Mother. Tread the path of your past carefully. Effects hidden.
Another mental push confirmed what he had already assumed. The [Status] screen was not available at the moment. If it was, he would have been able to see exactly how much of an effect his passive skills would have had. Natio sighed as he rubbed his chest. Even though it had only been a dream, the area where Aperio had simply punched through him still hurt.
"So much for sleep," he mumbled to himself as he swung his legs off of the bed. He did not agree with most of what the System had said in his class description, but he would not argue it either. It was right that what he had done was wrong, and he would accept the punishment Aperio had chosen for him. "Funny, really."
First he had gotten more experience than a normal mortal would through the help of Vigil, and now he would receive less because he had followed what his old God had taught him. "Guess those Ardynshaide fools were right with their balance talk."
With another shake of his head, Natio got up from his bed. His… pupil should have gotten his Class by now, and he would be a bad teacher if he did not check on him. Hopefully Adam got through his without an invasion by the All-Mother.
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Aperio ran her fingers through Caethya's hair, holding the Demigoddess tightly with her other arm. She had seen the notification her love had received; had felt her change. There was still a lot of care required when interacting with her, but at least she could hold onto her Caethya a little more tightly now without having to worry that she would be injured.
Maria, too, had received a Class, though her transition had been a lot calmer. The girl had gone to bed — after arguing with Amelia for a while — had fallen asleep and woken up to a screen telling her about her new abilities. It seemed that the System was quite aware of who should see what when they got a Class. The All-Mother had checked nearly every mortal in Ebenlowe when they had gotten their Classes, and the pattern was easy to spot. Children, the Elder, and even the weak all merely went to bed and woke up with a Class. They now talked about weird dreams they had, but most had experienced no pain.
The same could obviously not be said about Caethya. Luckily for her, Aperio was more than willing to ease any pain her love might feel. Be it through magic or her presence — something Caethya had reassured her also helped — the All-Mother would do her best to help her love. Can't wait for people to tell me how that's unfair…
Aperio had some unfortunate news for the people that would undoubtedly ask her to solve all her problems. She wouldn't. It was the obvious answer, even if a tiny part of her mind still helpfully informed her that she could, in fact, solve everyone's problems. But, the fact that she had made the world mortals called home did not mean she was responsible for every action every single mortal planned to take. It was, perhaps, something she should have realised sooner. Something I should have been honest to myself with.
The problem was that she wanted to fix what she saw as broken. Why she would still go and likely force an entire continent to change their ways. What she knew of Geshwen and the empire that ran it was not good, and the peek she had taken while the world was reintroduced to Classes had only reinforced what she had feared to be true. For all intents and purposes, they were a reincarnation of the Inaru Empire, only that they they did not discriminate by race. They simply deemed anyone not born on their continent to be of a lower class. A slave.
"Don't," Caethya mumbled, brushing her hand over the arm that still held her tightly. "Burning it to the ground won't change what they think. I know you want to fix things, but sometimes you have to let us mortals deal with our issues."
"There are only a few things I am willing to intervene for," Aperio said, shifting slightly to better wrap her wings around Caethya. Following the movement, she also corrected her disciple. She was no longer a mortal. "But what they are doing is not something I am willing to accept."
The freshly minted [Avatar of Creation] let out a sigh, tapping Aperio's arm and turning as soon as the All-Mother loosened her grasp a little. "I know," she said, wriggling her right hand free to brush Aperio's cheek. "But you already disposed of their deities, and now brought back Classes. I know that you don't really care what mortals think of you, but if you give them something to unite against, it will be harder to actually make them stop this madness."
"So you are telling me to do nothing?" Aperio asked, pulling away slightly and folding the wing she had wrapped around Caethya behind her back. "Just let them continue to torture them? I know what they are going through."
"Not nothing, no," Caethya replied with a small sigh. She hesitated for a moment, reaching out again to place her hand on Aperio's cheek. "You want them to change, but without forcing that change on them. If you simply go there and burn it all down, they will use that as yet another reason to band together against you—"
"Like the Repens Nabu," Aperio interjected, averting her eyes slightly. "But they are not driven mad by divinity… they're just mortals."
"They could do nothing against you or me, but the people that follow you are another matter." Caethya sat herself up, moving to stretch her arms before she blinked and shook her head instead. "You have to make a choice here. Either you take an active role and be the change you want to see, or you retreat and let the mortals handle it on their own."
"I hate it," Aperio mumbled, a thought causing her to appear behind Caethya. "I hate that I am starting to understand why I never messed with mortal affairs before." She pulled the Demigoddess into her lap, wrapping her arms around Caethya's stomach and resting her chin on her love's head. "Forcing my will on others to save people, even though I know how wrong it is, might be the only way. I just can't let them continue as they are."
"Life isn't easy," Caethya replied, leaning fully against Aperio and letting her hold her entire weight. "And you have only ever known two extremes. You had no power, and now you have unquestionable power. That's why I asked you to let us mortals figure this out. There are a lot of parts involved here that neither you or I know."
The All-Mother huffed in annoyance, holding Caethya a little tighter still as she mentally informed the Demigoddess that she was no longer a mortal. Again. As she considered her disciple's words, she knew they made sense, to a degree. Most of her remembered life — her actual life — was that of a slave with no agency or power, and now she could quite literally end the world with a thought. That did not change the fact that she could see what was happening on Geshwen, knew exactly how it felt to be on the receiving end, and had the means to change it. She would not even have to leave her bed. Just a small flex of her mental muscles, and every slaver would fall over dead. It would be so easy.
But she did not know what would happen after she did that. She was as blind to the future as anyone else, after all. Sure, she could let go of her body and take a back seat in everyone's mind, but that was worse. What was the point of life if there was nothing existing except her? There would be no substance to anything; just a puppeteer playing with her toys.
"Fine," Aperio said, a part of her mind already reaching out to Laelia. "But if it takes too long, I will intervene. It's been too long already."