Akhenna reclined on a throne sculpted from shimmering voidstone, the armrests curling into serpentine shapes that seemed to slither when unobserved. Her entire domain exuded an aura of whimsical menace, a place where dreams collided with nightmares and neither truly won. The goddess herself seemed at home amidst the chaos, her inky black hair cascading around her like liquid night, and her gown shimmering with impossible hues that shifted with every motion. Her lips curled into a mischievous smile as she twirled a strand of her hair between her fingers, her glittering, star-flecked eyes fixed on the voidstone basin before her.
“Oh, look at her go,” she murmured with childlike glee, her voice melodic yet dripping with mockery. “My little Vivienne, clawing her way through obstacles like the perfect tempest. All teeth, all hunger... so much potential.”
The air around her rippled, the unseen threads of her domain responding to her amusement. Staircases spiralled into infinity before folding back into themselves, and floating orbs of light burst into tiny constellations, each telling half-formed stories before fading. The very fabric of her realm pulsed with a rhythm only Akhenna could orchestrate, an endless waltz of chaos that felt both exhilarating and oppressive.
She leaned forward, her long fingers dancing over the edge of the basin. The liquid obsidian within began to ripple and shift, coalescing into an image of Vivienne and Rava. The monstrous champion prowled at the edges of a campfire’s light, her many heads darting as she observed the weary travellers within.
Akhenna’s laugh tinkled like shattered glass. “Oh, Vivienne. Trying so hard to be civil when the beast inside you aches to be let loose. How delightfully tragic.” Her voice dropped into a mockingly sombre tone, her fingers pressing to her chest in a theatrical gesture. “You’re doing so well... but I wonder how long it will last?”
The soft hum of her domain was broken by the fleeting flicker of a shadow—tall, shrouded, unyielding. An Eclipse Wraith passed silently behind her throne, its presence a faint ripple in the chaos. It did not bow or speak, and Akhenna paid it no mind.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
“Oh, my dear aloof children,” she cooed, her tone dripping with mock fondness as her eyes sparkled. “Still too proud to play with your mother? That’s fine. I have enough toys to keep me busy.”
With a casual flick of her wrist, she stirred the basin again. This time, she saw a different place—an ancient wardstone buried deep beneath the surface of Nymonia. Cracks spiderwebbed across its surface as the dormant magic holding it together began to fray. Akhenna’s grin widened.
“Hmm, it’s too quiet,” she said, as if addressing the void itself. “A little nudge should do.” She raised her hand, a tendril of pure chaos swirling around her fingers. With a snap, it shot into the basin, rippling outward into the realm below.
Far away, the wardstone trembled, its ancient seal loosening just enough to release a creature long forgotten—a grotesque aetherbeast, its form twisted and unnatural, seething with malevolence. Not too much, of course. Akhenna wasn’t looking to end the game, merely to raise the stakes.
“There,” she said, settling back into her throne with a satisfied sigh. “Let’s see how you handle that, my darling champion. Will you rise to meet it, teeth bared and claws sharp? Or will you crumble under the weight of my design?”
Her fingers drummed lightly on the armrest of her throne as she contemplated. “Perhaps I should add a little more spice. A storm, maybe? Or another mortal with questionable loyalties. Oh, the possibilities!”
The basin shifted again, showing Vivienne pacing at the edge of the campfire’s light, her monstrous form faintly illuminated by the flickering flames. Akhenna’s expression softened, a glimmer of genuine affection in her eyes.
“Don’t disappoint me, Vivienne,” she whispered, her voice uncharacteristically tender. “This is your stage, and I’ve given you the perfect storm. Now, perform.”
The goddess clapped her hands once, and her domain erupted into a swirl of light and colour, shapes dancing to an unheard symphony. Her laughter rang out, carrying with it the boundless glee of a deity who saw the world not as a responsibility but as the greatest game ever devised.
And the pieces were moving.