A sharp wind battered itself against the thick canopy of trees. The thick oak branches reached down, leafless like long fingers attempting to pluck travelers off the path. Along the side of the well-worn path was a small creek that slowly moved alongside the road. If one listened closely, they'd think the whispers of long-departed souls traveled with the soft breeze between the trees.
A gray shroud covered the sky, giving a curtain of light dreariness. A path, long worn and clearly unkempt as tree roots made the stones uneven and dislodged. In the distance, a looming dark fortress with stark black stones contrasted sharply with the pale gray sky as its backdrop. The fortress walls were imposing and gave a feeling of oppression as one approached it.
A howl of anger and rage echoed from the stone walls only to be lost as it echoed into the silent nothingness in the scraggly forest beyond.
“How do they expect me to agree to such an arrangement!” the previously enraged howl became a more coherent furious rant.
A humanoid shadow of ink-black feathers and a raven’s head sat obscured on a throne of bronze shaped like two outstretched open wings. His presence was dark, brooding, but a hint of malevolent mischief could be felt radiating from the being.
“My dear Nyxeria! Help me understand why I’m being pushed out of my role in this still new world! Certainly as one of the major deities, I have a right to exert my influence!”
At the base of the throne stood a white-haired girl with two crimson eyes. Her outfit consisted of a simple dark velvet ribbon and a dress that, while from a distance seemed merely fashionable, actually had some utility designed into it. A satchel seemingly made from raven feathers hung on her side. Someone who saw her would likely mistake her for a young teenager, yet her bored expression coming from her eyes hid an aura of maturity despite her youth-filled appearance.
“I am not sure, father. Perhaps it is because you have few serious followers and the people who do acknowledge you do so in passing. Your influence has only fallen among these newcomers in the last four thousand years since the Transference.”
“Bahhh! What do those mortals know!” the dark deity, whose name was not known even to his most loyal subjects, pouted. Nyxeria sighed, looking at her pitiful father who, despite being one of the great deities of this new realm, had the least influence in the direction this realm would take.
Nyxeria always felt her father was not serious enough in his duties though she had to admit she wasn’t much better. It was part of their nature it seemed. Her father’s imposing figure was always obscured even though she had not seen his true face, the head of a raven and the body of a man with a cloak of feathers obscuring his body.
Tapping his finger on his beak, he finally paused, as if an idea had dawned on him. “If mortals will not come to me of their own free will, I must show them what can happen when they do.”
Nyxeria nodded. “Indeed, Father. The mortals only know of you due to the followers of other deities talking about you, but few ever know what you offer personally to those who dedicate themselves to you. Mortals are like that; they seek tangible things to frame their faith around.”
“If that is the case…it would follow that I need to intervene personally.” he said standing up pacing in a circle around his bronze throne.
Nyxeria shook her head with a sigh. “Father…you know that the Gods are not allowed to directly intervene in the mortal realm's affairs or be punished. Remember what happened to that minor deity that decided to try and force the belief of an entire village onto him?”
The Raven Lord shuddered as his thoughts dwelled on that situation. It wasn’t pleasant in the least. While a deity couldn’t be destroyed…easily, they could receive divine punishment of another kind, which was very unpleasant and not something he wished to experience for any length of time. The Laws established at the foundation of all things were tread on even lightly by deities like himself.
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“You are right, Nyxeria! I cannot directly intervene or manifest, but the rules are far less strict in other areas!” His beaked head turned to his small white-haired daughter, causing her to get goosebumps along her entire body.
Nyxeria had seen the mischievousness her father would get into and often saw his schemes turn out in completely unintended consequences; she had been with him since near the start of this mortal realm; prior to that, she knew little of her father’s existence.
“F-fa-father…you know I am technically a deity as well, right?” Nyxeria stuttered, trying to dissuade his bad instincts. It has been one too many times she saw this reasoning from him. Bad things were almost always a result of it.
Waving his hand as if her retort was nothing more than some smoke floating around his head, he looked her up and down, his bird-like eyes sizing her up. “While you are correct, you are also half your mother and therefore, you can act on my behalf in the world. I just know those other shameless deities are probably doing that with their numerous children, the damned sex-fiends!”
“If mother discovers you sent me away, she will not be pleased when she returns…” Nyxeria held onto the small hope that her mother’s fury could dissuade her father’s less desirable instincts.
“Your mother is going to be in a comatose state for quite a long time before she ascends. You being born with half a foot in both worlds means your means of fully ascending are different. Even I am not fully aware of it since it is different from person to person, besides my dear daughter, you have been cooped up in our lands for far too long and I am sure going to the mortal plane will give you a fresh experience.”
The Raven Lord nodded. “Yes…Nyxeria, prepare yourself to journey to the mortal realm. We naturally cannot let you go with your full power, but I’m sure with time, you will regain access to it.”
Nyxeria’s heart dropped to her stomach as she heard her father decide. Once he had his mind set, nothing would dissuade him, not even her mother. Steeling herself, she stood up straighter. “If you are making me go, then you must give me a nightmare! Otherwise I will merely sit in place for a hundred years!”
Her father paused as he considered it for a moment. “Very well.” Flicking his wrist out, a dark inky substance dripped from the feathers on his forearms into a puddle. As if swimming across the ground, it came over to Nyxeria and swam into her own shadow, hiding into it.
Nyxeria knew how valuable her father’s nightmares were, but to her, this just reminded her that while he was malevolent in many ways, he did care for her and her mother behind it all.
“Good. Now learn about the mortals and spread my name amongst the people. I need to gain as much influence as possible in order to gain more sway in the next council. Show those shameless bastards up for snubbing me.”
Below her feet, a pool of dark energy formed beneath her and began to swallow her up. “I should note, dear daughter, that while you are in fact half divine in the mortal realm, it is your mortal half that will take precedence.”
Nyxeria didn’t understand what her father meant by that, but she assumed it wouldn’t be entirely pleasant.
As Nyxeria descended into the pooling darkness at her father's behest, her senses were momentarily overwhelmed by an eerie, swirling sensation. The transition between realms was disorienting, like being pulled through a vortex where time and space intertwined. Shadows enveloped her completely, swallowing her form until she felt suspended in a state of weightlessness, a transient being lingering between worlds.
The weightlessness seemed to almost drain from her as she felt a tugging sensation begin to pull her. Looking down, the seemingly endless horizon formed in view, and the ground below took shape as if emerging from the night sky itself. She felt a burning sensation as she fell from her heavenly station at her father’s side into a world completely foreign to her.
The pressure mounted as her mortal side began to forcibly suppress her divine nature. There was pain. A lot of pain. Pain that in her entire life since birth, she had never felt to this degree.
It was as if her very being was being stretched thin and exposed only for something to be pushed deep into her to conceal a truth about herself. Sensations she didn’t know existed suddenly became more evident. It was a pain she had never known.
The pain of a suppressed divinity. With one final thought of bitterness towards her father, Nyxeria faded into unconsciousness.
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