Grand Archon Shoftiel waited in Seth's inner sanctum. Before her stood a stone archway with adonium runes etched into it. When she ran her fingers over them, the symbols began to glow. Within the arch, a substance like the shimmering surface of a lake formed between the stone. On the other side Seth's Sanctuary waited, a place to which he'd often retreated when he needed solitude.

A gentle grin curled the corners of Shoftiel's mouth as she recalled the few times she'd entered that place with him. There, under sapphire skies with billowing white clouds, surrounded by grassy fields full of flowers, they sat upon two stumps, discussing the nature of right and wrong.

Often, Seth would start the conversation by asking her a question. At first, she thought this merely a teaching tool, for surely a god already knew such things. However, as their private meetings continued, she came to understand that he was learning from her as much as she was from him.

"I'm saying that I lied to you all. As did the others you call 'gods.'"

Seth's words just before his departure haunted her. For three-thousand years she'd served as the Grand Archon of Justice, enforcing the will of the deities of Empyrean. If Seth was saying what she thought he was, then perhaps it was all for a lie.

She touched her fingers to the watery substance shimmering inside the arch. It was cool and soothing to the touch, a hint at the beauty that awaited her beyond.

The door to the inner sanctum slid open and a creature walked on all fours into the room. Every scale upon the drake's body glimmered like precious stones of every color. She had the body of some manner of reptile, with a long tail swishing behind her. Two wings stretched out from her back, with red, blue, and yellow feathers.

Shoftiel smiled at her fellow archon. Drakes like Gemma were rare, as were the sorts of people she would trust with a world-shattering truth like the one Seth was about to reveal. "Thank you for coming, Gemma."

The drake rose to stand on her hind-legs. She crossed her arms as her head swiveled on the end of her long neck, glancing back toward the door. "When I saw your letter, I thought we were going to finally move on King Lugal's palace, but you called me here, and bid me to tell no one where I was going. What's happening, Grand Archon?"

"I will explain everything I know in a moment." Shoftiel stepped toward the glittering drake. "We need to wait for Shamgar before we proceed."

Gemma tilted her head to one side. "The High Priest? This is a mortal concern as well, then?"

"I suspect this is everyone's concern," said Shoftiel.

As she spoke, there entered into the room an elderly man wearing black robes with the symbol of a pair of scales embroidered on the front. He walked with an iron staff and groaned with every third or fourth step. He stopped just behind Gemma, staring in awe.

Shoftiel allowed him a moment to take in the sight. For all the wonderful things he'd surely seen, she suspected he'd never encountered a drake before.

Gemma broadened her shoulders and spread her wings, standing proud on display for the High Priest. No doubt, she was used to this sort of gaze, and had come to enjoy basking in the adoration of all who beheld her.

Once she was satisfied that they'd enjoyed this moment long enough, Shoftiel cleared her throat to draw their attention back to her.

At once, High Priest Shamgar knelt, his knees cracking on the way down. "Mistress Shoftiel, I am here to answer your summons."

"Rise, Father Shamgar," said the Grand Archon. "I have a mission for you and Gemma. This comes from Seth himself."

Drake and High Priest alike raised hands to their mouths in shocked expressions.

Shoftiel produced two of the three leather-bound books and handed them out. "He commanded me to give these to you, and usher you through here." She gestured toward the shimmering, watery gateway behind her.

The High Priest opened the book and flipped through the pages. Gemma moved in closer to the stone archway. "What lies beyond this waygate?"

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"The place that Seth calls his 'Sanctuary,'" said Shoftiel. "Up until now, only he and I have been permitted to enter this place. Now, he insists that you walk through the gate and read his book."

"What is this book?" asked Gemma.

The High Priest's face lit up, making that old man appear like an excited child. "Is this a new holy tome?"

Shoftiel shrugged. "He has told me little about it, other than it is supposed to be a book of truth, to correct lies we'd previously learned."

Both recipients gave the Grand Archon questioning stares.

"Don't look at me like that," said Shoftiel. "That's all the answers I have right now." She gestured at the gate. "Now, go on. Our Master commands it."

With no further arguments, the drake and High Priest slipped through the shimmering portal. Shoftiel ran her fingers over the adonium runes, causing the gateway to close behind them.

Whatever happens, I hope you will be safe.

In the silence of that lonely room, she produced the last copy of the book that Seth had given her and began to read what her master had written there.

. . .

The ones that you have long called 'gods' have taught this version of how all things came to be.

In the beginning was Enlil, the All-Father and originator of all gods. Enlil begot two children, Nyx and Sygin. Nyx brought forth the other gods of the pantheon, but Sygin created fiend-kind and slew the All-Father. This was called the Dawn of Sorrows, and led to the first war between the forces of light and darkness. Enlil's blood seeped into the ground of the world of Ymir, and so the children of Sygin have forever been at war with the children of Nyx, all while humanity works to exhume Enlil's remains from the underground so that he might one day be resurrected and bring about Eternal Peace.

This story has long united the god-fearing peoples of Ymir and has even allowed for King Lugal's rise to power.

But I tell you, this tale is a lie. In this book, I, Seth, the so-called "God of Justice," will at last reveal to the people of Ymir the truth which my co-conspirators have long sought to conceal.

We were not born from Enlil. Our ancestors came from a distant world called Urth many millennia ago, and we were just as human as those who mine the adonium. Through knowledge, we built vessels of metal which would carry us through the realm of the stars. Our people settled on one planet after another, until we spanned countless worlds.

Within a few generations, the peoples of various worlds began to strive among themselves, and factions arose to keep peace between neighbors. Yet, as has been all too common among our people, while factions may bring peace between neighbors, they lead to greater strife and conflict with outsiders.

Wars waged across the realm of the stars, with void-faring vessels sundering one another. Even whole worlds suffered obliteration at the hands of their enemies.

One faction rose to become greater than its rivals: Empyrean. It was Empyrean that first discovered the world of Ymir, and the strange metal known as "adonium" that originates there.

You have often heard it taught that adonium is the blood of Enlil, and that's why it has such vast magical properties. The truth is the people of Empyrean don't know where it came from or why it makes its users capable of warping reality to their wills.

Despite this lack of understanding, the leaders of Empyrean decided that they needed a subservient workforce to mine it. Thus, through the same knowledge that allowed us to traverse the stars and remain youthful for thousands of years, we created the beings of Ymir, over whom we would pose as gods.

The ones you call "gods" are people from Empyrean, who maintain this façade to exploit Ymir's people and resources. They are liars, nothing more, and for far too long I have been one of them.

I write this to you now so that the people of your world may know the truth. It is my great hope that one day all people of Ymir will be free of Empyrean's control, but the first step toward that freedom is informing the masses.

In order for us to have any chance of standing up to this otherworldly tyranny, we must first unite with one another and cease the constant bickering among ourselves. The false gods of Empyrean benefit from the wars waged on your world, because such wars prevent the various peoples from ever uniting against them. This is why they hate and fear King Lugal, for he has united more Ymirians under his banner than any previous denizen of your world.

In the interest of fostering peace between all peoples of Ymir, you must understand this: no one is born evil. Not even the fiends are born evil. The fiends were not created by Sygin, but by Nebo, who also made the archons and the humans. He made them to look monstrous so that they might serve as scapegoats of all the world's problems, and thus inspire loyalty to the false gods. Lugal, the great Titan and king of all Ymir, was created to lead the other archons, uniting them under Nyx. Like so many other creatures of Ymir, he reflects fantasies the people of Urth once believed in.

If we are to achieve peace on Ymir, the fiends need to be part of that peace.

At this, Shoftiel slammed the book shut. The air around her seemed to grow thin, and she took deeper and deeper breaths, each one doing nothing to ease her panic. Nausea punched her gut, and she fell to her knees, dropping the leather-bound tome. The world spun around her, and she dug her fingertips into the gap between the tiles, trying to anchor herself however she could.

Either the deity she'd long served had lost his mind, or everything she'd fought and worked for all her life was a lie. No matter which was true, the world she knew had come at last to a sudden end.