“Our parents had taught us to step into the light, and fear the dark, for the void is a reflection of yourself which embodies your darkest thoughts. They know not what they speak. What is the light, without the dark? Do we even know what the light was before its unending war with the dark? And what was the Void, before light came to be? A babe knows not but peace until it is born into the world, into the light. If embracing the darkness, the Doula will make the child cry so as to ensure that it is ‘alive’. The only peace all of us children have ever known in our lives is in the womb of our mothers, it’s cruel, isn’t it? Do you see, brothers and sisters? These lives we reside in are not what we believe it to be. Peace exists within the Void, and peace existed eternally before the light started its war. I have traveled into the abyss myself, but the damage was done. We are no Gods, we never were. Just tools for even greater powers. I will never become a pawn again, for I now have the freedom and power to choose.”
-The Forgotten God’s last known words
Before The War of Lost Faiths
4,000 Years ago
The end of the ‘Age of Gods and Men’
Legions of Ashmedai frantically raced across the glass land bridge, fleeing in horror of the rising tide. Watching them in silent resignation, a sect of Ashmedai that had remained on the land fled into a vast network of underground tunnels. The blackened sky rumbled with a thunderous discord. In the distance, the faint sound and sight of dragons fleeing as well, the frantic panic of beasts sounded evident, matching the screams of the death throes of the Ashmedai that failed to cross the glass bridge.
Eagles darted through the black night in their chasing off of the dragons as the line of volcanoes erupted, unleashing numerous torrents of shockwaves shattered the eardrums of many of the remaining Ashmedai. Many of the eagles plummeted to the ground like a swatted fly, whelping cries of surprise from other eagles as they were hit by some of the debris launched from the volcanoes. The full moon that lit the night sky faded behind gray plumes of smoke that had sprouted from the shattered mountains. The silvery shine of a night of war and bloodshed had dramatically altered into an ominously dim blood red tone, with the magma trickling down the mountain sides providing the only light in the darkness.
The uncontrollable tide that was the power of the Elder Gods had destroyed the world today, but the memories of those that survived the breaking of the earth will help rebuild it. Not to what it once was, but something greater than before. The sea started to bubble, and steam began to rise as the rising tide clashed with the magma pouring off of the land and into the sea.
Eysus stood in the far distance watching the many deaths of the Ashmedai, the second children of his parents. The tall man of spindly height trembled as shockwave after shockwave shook him to his bones. He gritted his teeth as he shut his eyes tight, and whispered words of affirmation to himself, for it was rare that he found himself emotional about anything.
Nerves and feelings mean nothing right now… The world had to be destroyed, so that it may live. But how many of my own followers joined up for this cause, to sacrifice their lives for a greater cause? It matters not, the third children have been born and are safe now. If they can be spared our levels of turmoil, the world will mend itself.
He turned around to the Gods huddled together ten paces behind him, to find three of them missing. Eysus scowled at his siblings,
“Where are they?”
Wehses, one of his eldest brothers, shrugged, “Neros and Ehbus are one in the same, you know that more than anyone else, little brother.”
“And what of Nitya? She isn’t like those two at all, and yet she is missing as well.”
“I saw her wings burn up in her battle against Aitheg and Tildrag,” his younger brother Alysander muttered, “I saw her plummet from the sky, brother. From the heights at which they were battling, there was no way even a God could have survived, and if she did…”
They all turned their heads to the shattered mountaintop, a storm of smoke flooded everything within two thousand paces. The Gods could make out the dull light of the forest fires in the thick smoke. Eysus anxiously swallowed, feeling his own mouth dry; the heat of it all gently kissed his face despite being so far away.
Damned dragons, first Yton and Ania, then you take our darling sister.. The one every one of us loved. We lost too much today, far too much...
Eysus’ elder sister Cereus gently laid her hand on his shoulder, “Brother–”
He shrugged her hand off and locked eyes with her, her deep cerulean eyes dancing between him and his trembling lip. She could see that he was hurting, and she knew that he knew how much pain she felt as well, but he couldn’t hold back his loudmouth as he verbally lashed at her,
“The Goddess of Miracles, what a joke. What miracle is this? Hundreds of thousands dead, Cereus!”
Eysus pointed toward the volcano, which was still exuding massive plumbs of smoke and spitting fire.
“These mountaintops weren’t the only thing shattered; we broke the damned world!”
“Silence Eysus!” Despite the soot and grime on his face, Wehses was red with rage, “I’m losing my patie–”
“And you,” Eysus rasped, walking to his burly giant of a brother and jamming his finger into his ragged oak barked armor, “You take-charge over ALL land, where is your rage? Your pain? You DARE chastise me? You DARE, when YOU were the one who–”
“SILENCE”
Eysus felt a wall of pain slam into his left cheek as Wehses unleashed a furious punch. He tasted the salt of blood and felt his back molars dancing in his mouth as he started to drop, but his brother caught his wrist.
“For someone so logical, I’ve never met anyone more foolish!”
And landed another blow right into his temple.
His sight went dark for a moment before seeing spots in his vision, looking into his brother’s eyes, he noticed that the rest of the world was spinning around them.
Wehses punched downward into his chin, splitting it wide open and buckling Eysus’ knees.
“You blame me, you accuse me, but what did you ever do in this war but complain? You’re no warrior!”
Tears trickled down Eysus’ cheeks as he failed to meet his brother’s gaze.
He’s right. I’ve been a walking contradiction for years now. I urged them to fight to protect the world and the second and third children, then I raged when they did just that. I couldn’t contain my emotions, and now I’m a broken bastard.
The tears reached his chin, stinging the open wound on his chin. He was normally strong mentally and emotionally, but not physically. It was the one advantage he had prided and lorded over his other siblings, how he could come up with a logical solution for any problem.
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What a joke…
Since the betrayals of his brothers, and the start of the war, he had been at a complete loss when it came to solutions. It angered him so, but he could do nothing but rely on the mortals to get things done for him or begging his siblings to act. It wasn’t his siblings he was truly angered toward, but the guilt within himself.
Wehses, upon noticing the tears and Eysus’ defeated look, muttered a curse to himself as he let out his own frustration in a blow to his right side. With his brother releasing his grip, finally he fell to his knees. Eysus keeled over onto the cool ground clutching his side, coughing up blood and teeth. The pain was so intense that he thought he had not only lost his bowels but was going to die. Watching him gasp for air and groaning, Wehses turned his back on his siblings and walked a few paces away to watch the firestorms emanating from the forests, lighting up the sky now as he watched countless members of The Pantheon’s Host die along with it. Eysus, slightly lifting his head, saw his brother shake as his head and shoulders sagged watching the grim scene.
Ah, there it is. It’s not a bad thing to show that you DO care, brother.
Cereus knelt down beside Eysus, her cold hand resting atop his as he clutched his liver, “You may not see it yet, Eysus, but our shattering of the earth is a miracle in itself. I have foreseen it. The time of dominance for the second children may have come to an end, but the age of the third children is about to begin. Oh yes, they will have their own troubles, but the Void Gods have been banished to the deepest and darkest depths of this world, never to return. They will never experience what the Ashmedai have.”
“Then for that future to become a reality, you know what must be done,” Eysus croaked.
She was silent for a moment, looking to a few of her other siblings while whispering,
“Aye, I do.”
Nodding as the pain in his liver faded to a light throb, and darkness surrounded and took him, “Wake me up before you go, sister. Please.”
She held his head with both of her hands, and kissed his dust caked forehead,
“Aye, I will.”
“Will we still gain the power that comes with their worship?” Alysander asked.
“Even if we did, we would not be able to use it. We’ll be in our own realms after all.”
Alysander scowled, “Then I will not be able to come with you, for this realm is my own.”
“Aye, your blessing and curse. Blessed to still walk this earth, but your realm also contains those who’ve perished in war,” Cereus said solemnly.
Alysander shrugged, “It’s not too bad, they serve me as reminders of what we did, and why we did it.”
“You may come to regret that, little brother, a majority of the second children are lost. I already foresee you losing the will to visit the locations of the battles in this war, as well as the broken spirit within you, and the third children are still young. It will take much time, and even more battles and wars, before they find wisdom and peace.”
Again, Alysander shrugged. Such was youth, even in a God, that they are either ignorant or oblivious to their own plights until it comes across them. Cereus remembered her time as a youth, foreseeing the coming of this war, yet doing nothing to prevent it. She didn’t remember whether it was willful ignorance, or blind confidence and love for her brothers that led her to inaction.
Perhaps it was a mixture of both. Despite her knowledge of what was to happen, she forced herself to believe that it was just a false prophecy.
‘My prophecies have been wrong before, why not this one’ she had thought long ago, before the war.
But in hindsight, there was no reason to believe that this prophecy was false in the slightest. Her brother’s descent into madness was etched in stone once he returned to his realm, and she could see why her mother and father had pushed so hard against sending him there. Neros was always a troublesome child growing up, whether it was introducing the Gods to the mortals for more power or venturing into his realm for more answers.
And while he was troublesome, Ehbus was impressionable. The twin gods were always inseparable, and when Neros turned his back on his family, Ehbus made certain that he would not be alone in doing so despite his love for them. But even among all of these catalysts, she still believed that neither were the main cause.
The inactivity, the refusal to act. The sense of superiority that came with being immortal was incongruent to the ability to act, for if they chose to live in this mortal plain, shouldn’t they act to save it? It took her all too long to realize that their immortality is actually a curse in this realm. The issue with foresight was that the Seer could not exactly see when events might occur. While a mortal is forced to act quickly before the light of their lives fade away, an immortal foolishly will foolishly believe that there is still time before the need to intervene. Maybe if they had acted sooner, she would still have her brothers.
And the world wouldn’t have shattered.
Wehses turned his head to look at the still groaning Eysus, before turning back around to watch the firestorm, “You won’t be alone Alysander.”
The young Elder God's face lit up as he grinned a toothy smile, “You’ll join me.”
“Not exactly. My realm is tied to this world too, and I plan on staying in this plain a little while longer.”
“To help the earth rebuild?”
Wehses nodded, “Aye, but I intend on leaving to my own realm in time. I suggest you do the same. Your realm may end up serving as your eternal torment… And I’m sorry for that, little brother, but we will have no place among the third children. Our presence will only cause more trouble, and should we stay…” His voice choked off at the very thought, and Cereus understood.
“We may have to destroy the world again,” She finished his sentence. He shot her a stare that showed his understanding and thanks, something which gave her a start. Wehses wasn’t one to give his thanks, being among the eldest of the siblings as well as the most capable, he normally walked with a sense of superiority.
“Then what should I do?” Alysander asked, “Before I return to my realm?”
“The eruptions and shattering of the earth trapped many of the second children underneath the ground, and inside the mountains. I fear that while they won’t cause much trouble for us or the third children as they are, that can change if they delve deep enough underground. There are still other Phantom Folk residing down there, and with new Ashmedai in their midst, Void knows what will happen. I will search for the Fortrul Ashmedai, wherever they went. They were always loyal worshipers of me, and I know they will protect my realm portal. You need to watch over the forthcoming wars that the third children are to have, for they cannot evolve without your guidance and knowledge,” Wehses ordered, turning around and walking to his two siblings.
Alysander was silent for ten heartbeats, slouching with each moment before straightening, “I will keep the Phantom Folk at bay brother, you have my word.”
Wehses nodded before embracing his brother and pressing his forehead to his, a sign of affection he hadn’t shown to any of his siblings in millennia. Alysander was always his favorite, quick to learn, quick to adapt, and quick witted in times where it mattered most. He had their mother’s eyes and face. The same mother who had given her life for Wehses to take her position. Before her he was the God of Nothing, and now he was the God of the Land, not as powerful as she once was, but far more effective in his duties as a God. Alysander was just like him, a God of Nothing. Unlike him, the boy had to train relentlessly in hopes of receiving the same gift from their father that Wehses had received from their mother, but it never came. It was their difference that led to a fierce bond and respect between the two. When Neros introduced Alysander to the second children, he fought in their civil wars, and their wars against the Phantom Folk, and earned his worship. Among the score of siblings he had, Alysander was the only one who had to fight for his right to be a God.
“We must go our separate ways now, dear brother. Scour the world for any of our siblings foolish enough to roam this mortal plain in the new age.
Alysander was silent, blinking away tears as he nodded.
Wehses voice went soft, softer than Cereus had ever heard before, “And know that I love you,” He turned to Cereus, who was still kneeling over Eysus, his head rising and gazing into his brothers, “I love you all.”
And with that, Alysander, in his scuffed Gold-plated armor, and Wehses in his oak plate, let go of one another and walked their separate ways. Wehses to the East, and Alysander North, into the firestorm.
“So, this is it, sister?” Eysus asked, although to her it sounded more like a statement of absolution.
“Aye, it’s time for us to go. Would you like help getting to your realm? I understand that yours is tied to this world as well.”
He shook his head, “No, it’s separate from this world, but I allowed for a window into their world, so I can remain ever watchful. If I see anything that necessitates action, I’ll act. It’s the least I can do.”
Cereus had a sour taste in our mouth when he finished speaking, turning around and spitting, but the taste was still there.
“And I’ll find it myself sister, don’t worry.”
She helped him to his feet and embraced him in a hug. She had loved him as much as Wehses loved Alysander. For all of his physical weakness, he made up for it with his quick wittedness, intellect, and emotional fortitude. She would miss his jokes most of all. He laid a hand on her cheek, before limping West. Cereus let out a sigh, turning South. With a wave of her hand, a beam of light shot down from the moon. She closed her eyes as a blinding light and cold gusts of wind shot out from the beam, later revealing a tear into the fabric of existence in this mortal plain. The tear morphed into a large circular window of blinding light, the door to her realm.
Thus ends the ‘Age of Gods of Men’.