A lone Goddess, brighter than the Sun, stood across a figure clad in the coat of Darkness. Their eyes locked into a standoff older than time. None were moving.
When there is darkness - there is light. A tale every child learns on their first scary night. The light always wins and banishes darkness. Then what will the light do, when there are no more shadows to conquer? The same as flames left uncontrolled, the radiance eats the eyes with its cruel nature.
Visir was not ready for the absence of darkness which led to her downfall. Millennials upon millennials she struggled to gain any sustenance. The fallen Goddess of Light, the Useless One, that was a fraction of the names she has been called between Gods. Then her light felt something she buried in the backyard of her memory. A presence only known to her as an eternal enemy. That made the character in front of her confusing and interesting at the same time. Ten thousand years passed, and he came back. A Demigod to rule the Darkness. Emperor of Grief and Sorrow.
“Salgos.” She spat his name. The figure stood silently, observing the radiant visage. His red eyes blinked from under the black helmet, weaker than she remembered. Not wasting any time Visir went straight to the point. “Why are you alive?”
“Did you think you can defeat me forever?” The arrogant flavor of his words immediately refreshed the memories of an executioner he was. “What a shame.”
The Goddess frowned. As it was now, the man in front of her was a husk of himself, not posing any threat. Instead, she wondered who would make him appear again, and whose ploy it was. That was the essence of the God’s game. Somebody wanted to bring him back, then Salgos’s life must serve some purpose.
The giant in the armor moved around testing his body. He moved his arms, grinding his armor plates against each other, getting used to being alive again. Finally, deciding he felt like his old self, the black figure raised his head to the levitating Goddess.
“Where is Celesia?”
“Dead, as far as I know.” The radiant woman shrugged his question off.
“Do not joke with me, Visir! I would know if she was dead!”
“Then go find her! I haven’t seen her since your defeat ten thousand years ago.”
“For so long?” It was Salgos’s turn to be confused. He eyed the Goddess again. “What happened after my defeat? You look worse than ever.” The Lady of the Light shook her head in disappointment. Skin under her hair bore noticeable cracks, leaking out light, because of the lack of power to sustain her body. The radiant wings looked worn out, darkened, not the majestic and powerful white it was before. She had freckles around her eyes. Something she always hated.
“They broke the balance. When there is only light, people begin to dread it.” She scornfully explained. Salgos was quick to realize what was implied.
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“So, you starved, but you are still a Goddess. How do you feed yourself?”
“Biryar and Dolathor made a System for mortals. Then others joined. I get power from the System now.”
“So weaker Gods are feeding you?” Demigod sounded amused. Visir did not feel offended. She lived through the irony of her victory for the past ten thousand years. If anything, she was glad the Demigod did not rub it in her face.
“A lot has changed while you were dead.”
“Tell me where their source is.”
“I can’t.”
“I will find it anyway. Dolathor is fond of castles and overprotection. I know how he thinks. We warred for eternity after all.” Salgos spoke thoughtfully. He was always the man who weighed his words and spoke only if there was enough on the scale.
“Amusing. You already making plans as if you are going to walk out of here alive.” Visir smirked with a clear threat.
“I am no God. I hate the game of Gods. But do not think I do not know the rules.”
“I can bend some rules. The God of Nature is at its weakest. He won't miss a long-dead Demigod.” The Goddess flapped her wings and grinned at her words. Meeting her long-lost enemy felt refreshing.
“A candle is more Goddess of Light than yourself now. Do not test my strength.” The Demigod in black armor summoned his war hammer. The Goddess scoffed and shook her head. He was as stubborn as before.
“I see your ego still intact.” Visir smiled, letting the tension drop. “Your new destiny is still in the making.” She flew in front of the sun, hiding her image behind it. “Maybe your appearance would serve something good for once. I will be watching you, Salgos. Good luck with your new life.”
Demigod watched the image of her disappear slowly behind the sun rays. He turned to the devastated ground. Despite joining the forest after so many years, the land still bore the scars of the battle he was defeated in. The landmarks looked like a splash of water, frozen in place and cut into shapes. Some have been overgrown with grass, others are still just stone and dirt not touched by life.
“Now what do I do about you?” Salgos called towards the cracks in the earth. His eyes glowed menacingly under the helmet and his gaze aimed towards a creature hiding in between the burrows.
It crawled into the light. Thin spidery legs supported a female body. Her back was covered with slim twitching appendages all over her spine. She wore an ugly female face, fore lobe unevenly sowed with small red eyes. Instead of hair, two horn-like protrusions spun over her head. A thick layer of chitin covered her chest and abdomen in a mocking image of a dress.
“What are you?” The monster creaked cautiously.
“I am the Lord of Darkness, The Herald of the Night, and the Emperor of Grief. My name is Salgos, Sylverak’s Demigod born in the Forge of Shadows. What are you, creature?”
“I am Skreetha. The arachne.” She wearily looked around, searching for other accomplishments to name. “This is my lair?”
“This is my land.” Salgos replied. It clearly was not his old domain anymore. If there was darkness, it would have left this realm long ago, leaving only the battlefield behind. “Fine, Skreetha of arachnes. You can serve me.”
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