For as long as Khaori had been alive, the stars had never abandoned her. They came and went every night, giving her light in the darkness, giving her hope during adversity. But not on this night. The darkness around her on this night enveloped her, shrouding the world in it’s all-encompassing shade. She was a kethran’tir, a warrior devoted to two tasks, serving the people by guarding her village from both monsters and men, and to serving the god above, the stars and sun. She was considered to be a brave woman, but on this lonely night, she was a coward, losing hope in the face of her god abandoning her.

Her home was lit brightly with wax candles, casting shadows on the walls around her and her family. The terrified looks on their faces nearly brought a tear to Khaori’s eye, but she steeled herself, she would not allow her face to show weakness while her husband, son, and daughter were there to bear witness. She could only imagine the fear they were facing, knowing their god had abandoned them, leaving them for dead in the cold lands of Omikor. For all they knew, the sun would not rise tomorrow. On any normal day, the sun would form in an instant, from the concentration of all the stars in the night into the great Sun. Now that the stars were gone, they had no hope for the day to come.

Alber, Khaori’s husband, was preparing guligar tea, brewed from the sweet leaves of the gulig tree, to give his kids something nice in the dark times. “Such a sweet man”, she thought as she pondered the future. She wanted to talk to Alber, a man she had known for many years, alone. She didn’t want her children to have to fear what was prophesied to happen after the gods left. The Cleansing. The Exile. The Extinction. All were words used to describe what happens when the Sun and Stars die, and Omikor is left in darkness.

Soon, her children had finished their tea. It was just before that time when she would normally send her children to bed, but she needed to consult with Alber, who was an il’gonat, a priest who was dedicated to the same to things as Khaori, but instead of protecting the people, he provided guidance for the lost, and help for the struggling. “Mikne, Jolp, it’s time for you to be off in bed now.”

“But it’s not time yet Mother.” said Mikne in her squeaky voice.

“Please go to sleep, I must talk to your father in private.”

“Please just a few more minutes.” Jolp piped in.

“No, and I’m not going to ask again.”

“But plea-” 

“No!” Khaori was calm in most situations, but not now, not now that she had been abandoned by something she had devoted her life to. 

“Please listen to your mother. She’s been having a rough day. She really will not ask again.” Alber said, calmly. Of course he was calm, it was his duty to be a beacon of hope. Mikne and Jolp hesitantly made their way to their room. They were only two years apart in age, Jolp being older at around age ten. They were too young to have the spiritual knowledge that she and Alber had gained over their years. They only were afraid because they saw their father afraid. They were confused, which was better than being truly in fear. Sometimes ignorance is bliss and knowledge truly a burden to carry. 

“I wanted to talk to you, love.”

“Of course, about what this means, right?”

“No, I care not for what it means, I care only for what we must do.” Khaori sat down in the chair left vacant by Mikne, close to Alber. “The Denizens of Below will return. But the bigger picture may or may not be handled by the Kings upon their thrones, but regardless, we must protect the village of Nairek, and it’s children. We are but a small village to be ignored by the leaders of Omikor, so that they can spend their soldiers protecting the great cities and fortresses, and leave the rest of us to languish in the cold, ruthlessly torn apart by the Denizens Under.”

“I wish I knew, but it seems that our God is not on our side, and we can only pray for forgiveness from them.”

“Why must you bow down to them so steeply? They have abandoned us and we must fend for ourselves regardless of what the prophecies say. To do otherwise would be to dishonor both of our oaths.”

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“Why should our oaths matter when we swore them in the name of a god that is gone.”

“Because they represent what we believe, and what we believe may be the only thing that we have left in the end, so we must preserve it.”

“What hope do we have against the coming disaster, Khaori? They will destroy us no matter what we do.”

“That does not matter, what matters is that what we believe is all we have left, and we believe that we should protect and guide, and if we must die to protect our village, we will have died knowing that what we did may not have succeeded in protecting the village from them, but we will have succeeded in fulfilling our oaths and ascending to our God.”

“A god that has left us.”

“No matter! I will not see my children and my people die, knowing that their guardian, and their guide, did nothing to protect them from the coming cataclysm, regardless of the presence of our God. I will protect my beliefs until it is the only thing I have left, and you should too.”

“Then what shall we do?”

“We stand tall, we hide the villagers, stock up on food, prepare for an onslaught, even if it means we die we shall drive out the Denizens.”

“Well in that case we should probably get some sleep”

“Agreed.”

Khaori and Alber went to sleep, but when they awoke they saw something beyond shocking.

The sun had risen. How could this have happened? The stars were not present to form into the sun, which went against everything they believed. The villagers were gathering in the streets, gawking at the sight of the sun above, in spite of the stars’ disappearance.

Khaori quickly got dressed and went outside to quell the confusion of the villagers. But how could she quell their confusion when she could not quell her own confusion. She went outside, and as the villagers caught sight of her, the murmuring died down. “Now I know you all must be confused, but fear not, the safety of the sun protects us.”

“But what of the night, kethran’tir? Are we to languish without the protection of the stars over our heads?” A villager responded.

“We will not languish in the dark, so long as you have light, and light I shall bring.” Khaori paused for a moment, to think of what she should say next. “No one is to go outside of their house after the sun goes down. When it goes, you have fifteen minutes to get to your homes. This may seem drastic, but it is for your own good.” The murmuring amongst the crowd seemed to increase. They were looking at something behind her. She turned to look and saw Alber, who had taken longer to get dressed as he desired to wear the traditional clothing of an il’gonat. He stood tall, as if ready to address the crowd. 

“If there are any chandlers amongst you, I will have you join me, you will be pivotal in the coming times.” A few villagers hesitantly stepped up. “I thank you for joining me, for your task is to make as many candles as you possibly can, they will be important. As for the rest of you, continue in your duties, every single one of you matters.” The crowd slowly dispersed, leaving only Khaori and Alber standing in the middle of the market. Khaori pulled Alber aside.

“What need do we have for chandlers, Alber, we need warriors!”

“We need them for a ritual that has never been used, reserved specifically for the disappearance of the stars or the sun. A prayer to our god. The village will need hope, and it is my duty to provide it. You said I should follow my oath.”

“But our god has abandoned us, and we don’t know if what we believe is real anymore. Our entire religion is threatened by this.”

“Yes but if we are to truly protect them, we need to protect what they believe. As you said, when you lose what you believe, what do you really have left?”

“I suppose, but don’t get too hopeful.” As she said that she heard loud footsteps and large breaths. A spindly man walked up to Khaori.

“I have a message for you, Khaori and Alber. Grandmaster Telregno of the Order of the Stars and Sun wishes to meet with you at the summit of Mount Merknoth, along with all of the other sworn kethran’tiri and il’gonati of Omikor. It is of a matter of utmost importance.”

“Of course, sir. Telregno should expect us to be there in a minute.” Khaori then began to speak ancient words, and Alber followed,  and they began to exude light from their eyes and mouth, as they pulled out knives, slicing along their left hand forearm, as their forms began to break down and disappear. When the light was gone, they appeared at the top of a mighty mountain, in an amphitheater-like structure. An old man greeted them.

“Welcome back. We’ve been expecting you.” A chill ran down Khaori’s spine. His voice struck fear into her. Telregno. The most powerful man other than the kings and queens of Omikor. They bowed to him in deference as they took their seats.

The Gathering would happen for the first time in centuries. This meant something grave was happening, and likely there was nothing they could do to stop it.