A memory, fleeting and unreal, the last fragments of a world sundered by its protectors. Countless races, culture, and history erased in just a moment as the world simply broke. Nothing can bring it back, there is not even a god. Why? Why does it feel fresh as though it had occurred only moments before? Why then, does her chest ache and clench in an attempt to recall…a dream?
Aleira awoke with a start, what her body had been doing in a daze soon became the reality. She blinked away the last few moments of sleep, rising up from her throne. She paused, a throne. When did she receive something so glamorous? Confusion set in, even as she turned to examine her domain. Death, her end, was the last concrete memory. The world should have ended, there shouldn’t be any need for such elaborate furnishing.
Her head pounded as though she spent the last night with a god of drinking. Dead, even he was gone, yet she failed to place a name or face to said god. Perhaps she was simply going insane. For the world in her memories, no perhaps more aptly called a nightmare, was called…? She resided in Yrisque, a newborn world full of potential. It was her job as the evil god to bring balance if some or all of the races create any lasting harm upon the land. The knowledge felt artificial, as though someone simply wrote down a list of what was expected of her.
Aleira, that was her name, she was a newborn more or less. The name felt lived in, as though there was history behind it all. Her mind danced at the probable explanations, disseminating, tearing into each factual information in her memory. Her face scrunched up in disgust as she fully processed her title. Evil god, it wasn’t a role anyone would want to be in. It had a connotation for darkness and vile deeds, but fancy her, she can’t recall doing anything that will make others hate her. Nor did she wish for the ire of other races, mortal or otherwise.
“Why the hell am I the evil one then?” She mumbled out loud. Looking at her throne and how many spikes there was made her wonder why someone would design something so gaudy. It definitely had the kind of arrogance and dangerous quality befitting of a villain. No matter how she looked at it, the thing didn’t match her tastes at all. Why did no one include her in the discussions before crafting such a monstrosity. No, she was a goddess of… The words were lost to her, faded and just out of reach.
“Wrong, there is some sort of discrepancy,” she stated flatly, almost expecting someone to chime in with an answer. The memories aren’t lining up, what should be parts of her past were fragmented. Even these pieces cannot exist in Yrisque. If her duty was to bring balance to the world, she felt no compulsion to follow through. If she was an evil god that was meant to bring others to their knees, then she shouldn’t be so self-conscious about such actions!
Turning on her heels, she began to walk towards the railing to her right. Her jet black hair dragged along behind her as she walked and the flooring feeling cool below her bare feet. Looking upon the ground, she thought how it was somehow reminiscent of obsidian, but material seem to morph and twist. Forcing her eyes away from the floor, she focused on the land before her. The only word she can use to describe it was dreary. So bleak in fact that she would doubt there was another intelligent being that purposelessly decide to live here.
“I can’t say Im happy to live next to a forest,” she sighed, looking over the edge and turning her head to investigate. What she noticed was how her throne room seemed to be build on the side of a mountain. Below her was the edges of a forest. Moving the the railing directly behind throne, she got a view of just how vast and barren the land appeared to be. It was so quiet, as though the place was devoid of any life.
“Any view is better than looking at the door.” Her eyes glided over towards a grotesque gate like structure. The architect was most likely the same as that for the throne, considering the wailing and pained faces carved into it. By the length of her hair, she was asleep for a very long time. No, a better word would be unconscious, but they did say you never remember your whole dream.
“Hello!” She called out, hoping for a response of some sort. Alone. Shit. She was alone by herself. Shouldn’t an evil god have minions, followers, cultists? A servant would be nice in explaining the situation. Besides basic information, she was unsure about the state of the world. For all she knew, the world could already be devoid of all life or the other powers hadn’t even created any sentient lifeforms. A shrill cry from behind her told her otherwise.
Once again facing the railing, Aleira desperately looked for the source of the sound. Whatever it was, didn’t sound pleasant. Pursing her lips as she scanned the environment, she was able to determine the source. A bird like creature was seen over the forest, much further away. Even at such a distance, small details were prevalent in her eyes, like the beak tipped with sharp fangs, and multiple tails ending to look like maces. The more she looked, the less pleasant the monster appeared to be. Yes, not a creature, but an existence the world would categorize as a monster. A being focused on devouring other creatures and their own survival, ready to trample on any potential victim. Still she felt no hatred, dislike, but not disgust.
“Vultures,” she grimaced, wondering what their target could possibly be. These birds were more of a scavenger breed, a realization gleamed from her mind only when she thought of it. They wouldn’t fight unless over a meal and only among themselves. It was only after the information passed her mind did she notice the sweat building under her hands and noting how her hand turned white whilst gripping the railing.
At least she still had her sight or rather, she always had her eyes. The ability to see the world as is and beyond had saved, no, will save her from plenty of trouble. Even the threads of fate can be seen if needed, though in this forlorn place, there wasn’t anything to see besides never ending stagnation. Her only path was look, beyond the birds, trying to find whatever the cause of disturbance could be.
The forest obscured her vision or perhaps whatever was down there was moving too quickly. Soon a headache began to push at the back of her skull, until she had to give up to rest. Noting the location of the flying birds, she tottered back to her throne and sat down to consider her options. Diving into the forest wasn’t the brightest idea, she was unsure if she’ll be able to make it back. There wasn’t exactly any need for her to leave, either. Though she didn’t have to worry about eating, drinking, or even monsters attacking her, she could still very well get hurt. There was simply no reason to leave her throne room, except for the gnawing discomfort gnawing at her heart.
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“They did say curiosity killed the cat, but I guess that’ll be the first time it kills a god,” she mumbled to herself, a sense of growing comfort from her own voice. Rubbing her temples, a plan finally took root, well a semblance of one at least. At the current distance, it was best to let whatever the prey is approach closer. Once her eyes can finally pickup on them, then she’ll move in to satisfy her curiosity, errr, evaluate the situation. If it was something troublesome, she’ll leave. A simple plan has less possibilities of completely backfiring after all!
From a bystander, the appearance of a hunched woman, fingers entwined and laughing to herself would give anyone a pause. Fortunately, the goddess was truly alone in her domain, allowing for the utmost privacy. One can even say that it does not matter whether she was truly mad or insane. There was no one in the world who knew or cared.
In her moment of revery, she failed to note the fact of how she was going to leave the area. it wasn’t until the headache had finally dissipated did she realize her lack of understanding of her own castle (?). Moving over to the elaborately and excessively evil gate like doors. Pushing did nothing, nor did pulling. Soon she was on all fours in disbelief. What asshole makes a gate that doesn’t open?! To her disgust, even this light exercise seem to tire her body. Whatever was in the forest better make their way super close to the entrance then.
“A way out, come on head, think of something, there has to be some record or instruction for that,” she thought aloud, pressing her index fingers against her head. Sure enough, she had the bright idea to use a teleportation spell. After a mild moment of confusion in realizing she could use magic, Aleira became eager to try out her newfound ability, only to realize that such spells require a physical magic circle to be drawn. Manipulation of space require fine attention to detail to be used properly after all.
“Where in this hell am I going to find something to draw with,” she spat, looking down in thought. Her eyes lit up when she considered the excess amount of hair. Then she recalled how unreasonably sharp some parts of the ugly throne appeared to be. In her elation, she skipped over to an area of her throne, bundling up portions of her hair before diligently cutting them off. In moments, she felt a great deal lighter and had something to work with for the magic circle. Going back to the railings she noted how those fowls appear closer than before, still appearing to be heading towards her direction.
With gusto, Aleira piled up her hair into a pile before subsequently lighting it up with fire. Other than the flames being eerily black and dark blue, the whole thing burned nicely enough. Thank goodness fire magic didn’t require anything too complicated. Diving into the pile of ash, she began the painstaking of process of drawing out the details of the circle, one wrong shape could send her barreling to heaven knows where. She occasionally stood up, to survey the distance and the designated point where she wanted to pop out from.
By the time she finished her circle, the screeching had become annoyingly loud and insistent. Once again reaching towards the railing she focused her eyes at what the monsters were targeting. To her surprise, they were after a wolf of some kind, but nothing that she would call a meal. They went through the trouble of waiting for such a scrawny thing to die. Looking beyond the wolf, she noted that its pursuers were simply the scavengers, that occasionally dipped low to terrify the poor thing.
Seeing the little wolf stumbling and running around near the edge of the forest made her heart break. Resolving herself to leave the damned place, Aleira ran back and activated the circle. The formation didn’t brighten up as you’ll expect, instead it appeared to almost suck in the very light of the world around her. She felt as though she was being pulled into the circle before suddenly the sensation disappeared. As soon as she opened her eyes, she found herself falling and sprawled onto the ground in a face-plant.
“Note to self, find a way to elegantly enter a scene,” she thought to herself before getting up and wiping the remnants of grass off of her. Gathering up the remaining of her courage, she charged towards the direction of the wolf and its pursuers. By charge, it was more like running and stopping to catch her breath. She reached a clearing soon after bursting out of some shrubbery, panting like a dehydrated dog.
The wolf let out a yelp as one of the birds struck it with their tail. Whimpering it began to limp away, trying to return back to the safety of the forest. With a mighty screen, the bird attempted to swoop down to strike the canine dead, only to flap their wings back in panic at the entrance of the mysterious creature. Soon the forest returned back to its silent state. Aleira sent a glare at the monster in the sky, staring them down before lifting her right hand. She sent them a signal to go away, shooing them with a hand signal. Surprisingly enough, the monsters flew away, not so much from understanding, but out of fear. To them, she was greater than any monster king or tamer. It was as though her very existence was ingrained into their being.
“There, there, I made those bad monsters go way,” Aleira cooed, turning slowly as to not startle the wolf. It was only after reaching out did she realize her mistake. In panic, the injured creature lashed out, biting into her arm and drawing a black line of blood. Unlike the feat from the bird creature, this fear was a stranger and possible new danger. In an animalistic mind, it didn’t know what to do, but to struggle. She didn’t flinch or pull away, knowing that the wound would be worse.
“You…you’re a wolf-kin, not one of mine,” she frowned, a natural reaction of disgust coming over her. No, not natural at all, it was artificial as though such a thing was imprinted on her to feel. To her horror, she realized that whatever process of reincarnation had also given her disdain to non-monster creatures of the world. Gulping down the emotion, she tried to remain as calm as possible, accessing the damage. Looking at the wounds, the wolf-kin didn’t have long to live, not unless she did something.
“Does it taste good little wolf? Do you enjoy spilling the blood of a god,” she smirked, trying to distract herself with conversation. With the jaws clamped so tight, she found herself reaching over with her free hand to stroke their head. Yes, if she hated a race like this, then all she had to do was change the fact. The consciousness of the wolf began to fade as she noted the ears and eyes start to droop. The poor thing was so obviously exhausted.
“Don’t worry, you are my kin and now. I will always protect my kin,” she assured it, continuing to rub the fur. An evil god’s blood can corrupt other creatures or so the records in her mind says. No longer was the poor creature a wolf-kin, but a follower of hers. Now, she wasn’t so alone.