The seven gods, now settled on this planet, quickly began their mission of transformation. It was time for great reforms, those that, in their minds both divine and eccentric, would propel this world towards a glorious future… or, at the very least, plunge it into a state of divine confusion rarely achieved.
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Mavora, goddess of healing and death, took the lead, wearing a stern expression. She was determined to realize her grand vision of absolute healing, but remained resolute in never touching anything related to death. “Diseases are useless and unacceptable!” she cried out loud and clear with a stern look, before ordering each inhabitant of the village to line up before her for immediate and permanent healing.
One by one, the villagers passed before her. With a simple gesture of her hand, Mavora would rid them of their afflictions, their pains and any other physical ailments. The rumor of her powers spread like wildfire: no more illness, no more pain. People came running from all corners of the village, eager to taste the benefits of this imposed immortality.
However, in the middle of a "healing session", an old man suddenly collapsed in front of her, taking his last breath. The crowd held their breath, waiting to see what the goddess of death would do to accompagn him to the afterlife. But Mavora, her face frozen, took a few steps back, clearly terrified. She stared at the old man's body in horror, refusing to approach his spirit.
"Blessed be he to die in the presence of death, and to be welcomed into its bosom!" a woman in the crowd screamed as she fell to her knees. A disturbing fanaticism in her voice.
Mavora shook her head, muttering between her teeth, a stinking look towards the woman: "No way I'm touching that. That old man… he just has to find his way himself.” She made a vague gesture, pointing to the mountains in the distance. “He will go, to this place that I decree sacred from this moment. To reflect on his life and death, to find enlightenment and free himself from the cycle of reincarnation.”
The villagers exchanged puzzled and bewildered glances, while Mavora quickly turned to a child suffering from a simple scratch to treat him with feverish ardor. The other Gods wanted to say something else, but a dark look dissuaded them from this step.
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This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Meanwhile, Vahan, the god of economy, agriculture, and trade, undertook his mission of “productive reform” within the village. Although his posture was that of a reasonable god, his ideas betrayed a boldly revolutionary philosophy.
Raising his arms, he dramatically pronounced: "May the earth be generous to you, people of this world, especially of this village! May your harvests be abundant and blessed forever!"
With a gesture, he made the crops grow like never before, the ears of wheat reaching dizzying heights, the vegetables becoming enormous and perfect. The villagers were speechless, contemplating the miraculous abundance that stretched out before them.
But Vahan, far from stopping there, launched into a vibrant and ideological speech. "It is time to free this land from the chains of nascent capitalism! No more exploitation, no more profits! From this day on, the land belongs to each of you equally! No more private property, for I declare... divine communism!"
A confused murmur went through the crowd. Most of the villagers, accustomed to bartering and daily survival, had barely an idea of what he meant by "capitalism" and "communism." Yet they nodded respectfully, for fear of contradicting the god of abundance.
But Vahan, who had decided to impose his vision in every detail, added an additional element, a compassionate smile on his lips. "And from now on, you will all adopt a vegan lifestyle! Animal flesh is poison for the soul and the body. Bless your harvests and renounce the old ways!"
A heavy silence then settled over the crowd. The peasants, most of whom lived from livestock, were overcome by a palpable unease. One farmer dared to raise his hand timidly. "But... if we can no longer eat meat, what will we do with our animals?"
Vahan smiled, as if the answer were obvious. "Set them free! Let them roam the fields freely! They are your brothers and sisters, not your meals! But as I am merciful, the faithful who follow Aphrael can eat them, fitness without meat is hideous to behold! Even for me."
The herders exchanged looks of anguish, imagining their herds trotting happily through the wild, uncontrolled, while their own food disappeared before them. A few murmurs of worry began to be heard, but Vahanl, confident in his divine reform, paid them no attention.
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These first reforms quickly made their way around the region. The inhabitants, although perplexed, complied as best they could with the new divine directives. The village gradually adopted a vegan lifestyle under Vahan’s watchful eye, while Mavora continued to provide perfect health, while categorically refusing to care for the wandering souls, who were already beginning to haunt the surroundings.
The world of these mortals had just fallen into an era of upheaval, both spiritual and material. Between uncontrolled immortality and an imposed vegan diet, the villagers remained perplexed by the new divinities who, unknowingly, were shaping their existence with a mixture of good will and saving chaos.
The reforms were only just beginning, and their world had not yet glimpsed all the glory that these merciful gods would breathe into it.