The world of Telvaria had been embroiled in the fires of war for countless millennia. It was the result of the feuds of the many gods of the world, but mainly because of the endless squabbles between the Nine, the preeminent gods of the universe. They were the greatest beings in existence, the creators and the destroyers of everything.
Billions of years ago, they had formed out of the cosmic ether, and bent their will towards the creation of a world for themselves, a world that rapidly turned into nothing more than a playground. Even gods grow bored, perhaps at an even quicker rate than mortals. Over the years, civilization had developed on the planet of Telvaria, the seat of the gods’ power. A myriad of races, from humans to far more exotic creatures, lived and died under the watchful eyes of their masters, never knowing why they existed. Of course the only reason was quite clear. They were there to please their makers, and nothing more.
Eight of the gods, known as the Gods of Light, were in an alliance against the ninth of their siblings, the Sovereign of the Apocalypse, Sarnakthros. It was because of this that war had never ended in the universe. However, if there was any time for it to finish, it was coming near. The forces of Sarnakthros were on the back foot, pushed back to their capital. If nothing changed, the god would be banished from existence, as the last of his followers died. However, unbeknownst to his siblings, he had a plan.
Sarnakthros sat brooding in the midst of his citadel, in his personal cosmic realm.The god was bitter, from long years of conflict, but also from the knowledge that his tenure as a god would soon be coming to a close. His only hope was to summon a champion to this world, a task that was far more arduous than it seemed. You see, to do such a thing, a god had to sacrifice a portion of their own soul into the ritual, and if this did not pay off, Sarnakthros would be weakened to the point of nothingness. However, if it did work, he would be richly rewarded.
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Rising from his throne, ignoring the majestic views of outer space from the mile long windows in front of him, the god walked towards a ritual circle inscribed on the floor. It did not look like much, more like a child’s scrawl than anything else, but within its tangled lines and oblique angles, there lay inordinate power. He was the only person left in his entire divine faction, with his many children long since having died to the forces of the Light. He was the last of his kind, and it weighed heavily on his soul. His only balm now was the promise of revenge, or oblivion. At this point, either would be welcome. He had lived for far longer than he should have, and the weight of the eons was only now starting to take hold.
He pushed gently off the ground, levitating the rest of the way until he hovered over the center of the circle. Holding his hands out to each side, he began.
“Oh forces of the universe, infinity, eternity, and creation, I call upon you. Lend me your power and reach across the cosmic divide to bring me a champion.”
His voice was not at all what a god’s should be, sounding more like a school teacher than anything else. However, only his siblings possessed the supreme ego that afflicted immortals. He was of a more mellow disposition. Although he was renowned as the ultimate evil by the people of Telvaria, his true followers knew that as the lie it was. His siblings had committed far worse atrocities than him, driven by their self centered demand for purity at all costs. Of course, morality, when seen by a god, is purely in the eye of the beholder.
Sarnakthros started to shudder as his soul tore within him, sending tendrils of golden light into the circle beneath him. The tangled lines began to glow with baleful power, and a pillar of light shot up into the heavens, piercing through the edge of the universe and into another. Sarnakthros collapsed backwards, his power spent. As he looked up at the scintillating beacon of rainbow energy, he could only hope that it would save him.