He walked down the hallowed halls of the Grand Palace, a place of beauty and wonder. To his left and right, there were pieces of art amassed through millennia, meant to inspire wonder and reverence in those who looked upon them.
However, Avass only had eyes for the massive doors in front of him. They promised him a chance for excellence, a well-deserved recognition long overdue. His enchanted boots, coveted by many godlings, clacked rhythmically with every step as he approached the assembly. An invitation to the Grand Palace was a recognition reserved for only a select few.
Excitement bubbled up inside him, a feeling he hadn't experienced in innumerable years. Finally, he would be acknowledged as an ultimate power within the Gilded City, a position rightfully deserved. His rise in power had been astronomical in recent months, surpassing other deities that had remained stagnant for centuries. Lately, godlings gave him envious stares, a sensation he couldn’t help but relish, while others vied for his favor, falling over themselves to assist him.
The unrest and turmoil in Helios had given rise to numerous deities, enjoying newfound worshippers and fervent prayers. Avass, along with some others, was bursting with faith points, while other gods, whose domains centered around peace, tranquility, and cooperation, were left starving for these precious points.
It had been a long road since his ascension, always striving and fighting for one more follower, to ascend the ranks within the Gilded City and finally reach the position he knew he deserved—a place among the pantheon!
Uncertainty briefly overwhelmed him as he glimpsed one of the mighty suns outside. The golden sun of Kadmus seemed to mock him, taunting him with its brilliance. He might have risen in power, but he was still nowhere near powerful enough to pass the ultimate test. To steal a sun was a feat incomprehensible to most, and unfortunately, Avass was among those people.
Avass straightened his posture. If the pantheon believed he was ready to join their ranks, then he shouldn’t doubt his prowess. Maybe they needed new blood, and the twelve were ready to become thirteen. He was Avass, after all, they would be lucky to have him among them.
The two godlings leading him to the assembly stopped before the massive double doors, each side bearing the symbol of the pantheon, an intricate circle containing the symbol of each deity, with twelve rays around it, resembling the sun. Soon, his symbol would be inside the circle, and a new ray would be added, as was customary once a new deity ascended into the pantheon.
Avass took a bracing breath and imperiously nodded at the two godlings patiently waiting for his sign. Together, they pushed the double doors, announcing his presence with voices that resonated like a symphony of birds.
Entering the chamber with head held high, Avass anticipated the warm welcome of the pantheon. Instead of the welcome he deserved all he got was shouts and bickering. His eyes shot open as he saw the massive chamber was in chaos. The twelve deities had forsaken their regal thrones, and were fighting with each other, shouting obscenities and yelling accusations.
Amidst the bedlam, amidst the clash of emotions and heated exchanges, three figures stood apart, their presence bearing an enigmatic quality that commanded attention even in their tranquility.
Two ancients, like pillars of calm amid the storm, commanded the space. Aurion, the God of light and sun, stood resplendent on his towering throne, an imposing figure draped in a tattered cloak that seemed to barely contain the radiant power within. His translucent skin, a shimmering canvas that struggled to confine the brilliance of the sun shining through it, added an ethereal luminescence to his being. A towering headpiece obscured his features, casting shadows upon his face, while phantom wings flickered sporadically behind him, adding an otherworldly aura to his formidable presence.
Seated beside Aurion was the Mother, her serene countenance radiating an aura of patience and wisdom. Clad in a simple robe, she bore an air of quiet strength, her head crowned with a golden halo-like crown that exuded an understated regality, marking her as a figure of reverence and guidance.
In a corner, separate from the tumultuous gathering, stood Xenos, a figure enshrouded in mystery and ambiguity. His form swayed and coalesced like wisps of smoke perpetually caught in a dance of concealment, obscuring any clear detail of his identity. Amidst the chaos, he remained a silent observer, the God of the unknown, withholding his form and presence from the prying eyes of the others, an enigmatic figure shrouded in a hooded cloak, ever withholding his true countenance.
The throne room sprawled magnificently, a grand chamber that echoed with the essence of divine power. Each seat, positioned in a semicircular arrangement facing the imposing entrance, emanated a distinct aura encapsulating the essence and domain of its owner. The room itself seemed to pulsate with an ethereal energy, several meters around each throne forming an invisible boundary, a testament to the sovereignty of the divine beings that convened within its walls.
The thrones, adorned with intricate designs and symbols reflecting the nature and might of their respective deities, stood as imposing monuments of authority. Some were fashioned from materials beyond mortal comprehension, shimmering with otherworldly hues or pulsating with a quiet, otherworldly glow. Others were constructed with elements representing the domains of their owners, each exuding a unique resonance that spoke of the powers they wielded.
Lost in uncertainty, Avass stood motionless, unsure of what action to take. The oppressive auras intensified with every shout and accusation, his heart racing in response to the assembly of immense power. Even those he had once deemed weak displayed such an overwhelming presence that for a moment he felt like a mortal, weak and insignificant.
With hesitation, he coughed to capture their attention, yet it fell on indifferent ears. The deities persisted in their squabble. Tactalia, the Goddess of strategy and tactics, adorned in her golden regalia, leveled an accusing finger at Xiphos. Her already narrow face contorted with disdain as she yelled, "You may relish humanity's current state, but soon you'll rue that decision. Once again, you fail to see beyond your nose."
Avass held a longstanding disdain for the Goddess, her haughty demeanor and perpetual smirk always irked him. Their interactions had been marked by her condescension, testing Avass's restraint against the disrespect he consistently faced.
Xiphos swelled with aggression, his blood-red eyes fixed on the smaller deity, barely containing his violent impulses. "War is a tool. It eradicates the weak, allowing the strong to thrive and usher in greatness," The God of war roared, sending lashes of power across the room. The nearby deities raised barriers, attempting to counter the unrestrained energy.
Avass wasn’t quick enough, and he felt being struck by an errant whip of energy. The effect was instantaneous, and he felt his veins being pumped with energy and violence. For a moment he felt an overwhelming desire to eviscerate anyone in his path, but with great effort he managed to restrain the urges long enough, for the effects to pass.
"You lack restraint, Xiphos!" Ailuris interjected, the Goddess of health and disease. "Your focus is solely on immediate gains and power. Your short-term plans breed long-lasting repercussions! Do you think we're ignorant of your champion, plunging half of Talmar into turmoil? I'm dispatching agents faster than I can bestow blessings to quell the festering diseases and rampant plagues!" Her pristine white robes flattered by her impassioned movements as she condemned her fellow God, but Xiphos only scoffed in response.
"My champion is but a trifling piece of the larger puzzle. I'm not involved in this mess!" Veridra, the revered Goddess of nature, stood amidst the divine assembly, her presence a fusion of grace and the untamed wild. Her voice carried the echoes of rustling leaves and the harmonious symphony of forest creatures, as she rallied in defense of Xiphos. "Xiphos speaks the truth. Even though we have opposing views on many matters, I agree with this one. Everyone senses the change; petty wars are a mere symptom. I feel the earth shift beneath my feet, among my ancient arboreal companions, and even in the life-giving air."
Her face, once a vision of ethereal beauty, now bore a solemnity marred by a deep frown. Only half of her visage retained its human features; the other half had succumbed to a transformative process, seamlessly merging her human flesh with the rough, gleaming bark of an ancient tree. Her form, an amalgamation of human and arboreal elements, seemed to exude verdant energy, intertwining with the world around her, as if the very forces of the wilderness wove through her existence.
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"Ataaw, you can verify my claims. Surely you have felt the same winds of change." The blue-skinned God nodded, affirming the statement, causing the fin on his head, reminiscent of a crown, to sway. Each movement he made seemed to echo the undulating rhythm of waves lapping against the shore.
"It is indeed so. What intrigues me, however, is who is behind these recent developments. Someone orchestrates everything from the shadows." Ataaw smiled ominously, revealing a row of sharp teeth, fixing his unblinking eyes pointedly on Xenos.
Everyone mirrored this accusatory gaze toward the enigmatic deity, whom they knew little about. Xenos, however, remained seated and unfazed, simply shaking his hooded head with indifference. The alluring Ayat, Goddess of love and beauty, glared at Xenos and accused him.
"Perhaps you've aligned with the Cadre of Necrum. They continually scheme and cause trouble. Maybe these events are linked to the Dark deities!" A scoff resonated in the throne room, yet Xenos chose not to respond.
Ayat seethed at the dismissal, an experience unfamiliar to the Goddess. Usually, everyone catered to her whims, no matter how outlandish. "Maybe we should take a more proactive stance, despite it appearing as weakness," proposed Lysara with her captivating voice. "We must delve into the root of the problem." The Goddess of arts and creativity was met with a scoff from Xesious.
"Similar occurrences arise every few hundred years. We need not fret. It's the cosmic scale reasserting itself, as Xiphos mentioned, so the weak can perish and a new generation can emerge." The God of death seemed unconcerned by the ongoing events, sauntered back to his imposing throne, a macabre structure crafted meticulously from the skulls of every race known to Helios.
Each skull, meticulously placed, bore unique marks, telling tales of civilizations long gone, some polished to a gleaming shine, others weathered with time, yet all arranged with an eerie precision. The seat itself, fashioned from the colossal skull of an ancient behemoth, commanded attention with its sheer size and intricate carvings. Bones of various sizes and shapes coiled and intertwined, forming the armrests and embellishing the framework.
"Should we simply remain idle?" Kadmus thundered. "Your domain wouldn't feel the strife and discord; it might even flourish. But wealth and commerce are among the first casualties in times of constant wars!" The golden God raised his metallic fists threateningly. "Is that your desire, Xesious? For me to lose my power?"
Xesious shot a scornful look at Kadmus. "If the foundation of your power is so feeble and fragile that it crumbles at the first hint of struggle, then perhaps you deserve your fate." Kadmus erupted in outrage, unleashing another surge of power in the throne room.
Avass swiftly raised a shield just in time, warding off the chilling aura emanating from Kadmus. "Children!" the Mother reproached, her gentle voice wrapping around everyone as her aura diffused the remnants of the other Gods' power in the room. "This leads us nowhere." All arguments stopped as everyone turned their attention to the two ancient deities seated on their opulent thrones.
Ayat shot an irritated glare at the Mother. "Don't treat us like children; we're not your devotees!" The Mother's compassionate gaze settled on Ayat. "Then don't behave like bickering children. Besides, we have a guest we've neglected while caught up in our own disputes."
In unison, the twelve turned their focus to Avass, whose knees weakened under the weight of the attention from the twelve most powerful beings in the world. "Ah, Avass, we've been expecting you," greeted Xiphos.
Feeling eyes either mocking, judging, or merely disregarding him, Avass watched as one by one, the Gods returned to their seats, leaving him as the lone figure standing. He tentatively moved toward the center of the throne room when the Mother beckoned him forward.
"We apologize for the spectacle you witnessed. Even among the pantheon, disagreements and quarrels arise," the Mother addressed Avass with a serene smile that momentarily captivated him.
"When you gather so many headstrong individuals in one room, clashes are inevitable," Tactalia added with a venomous smile. Avass simply nodded, unwilling to offend anyone when he was on the verge of seizing a significant opportunity.
With all eyes on him, he yearned to be among his peers, a God amidst Gods, craving acknowledgment of his magnificence. If playing nice a little longer was necessary, he'd portray himself as a respectful and humble godling.
"You must be wondering why you're invited here," the Mother continued, evidently the designated speaker for such occasions. "Yes, Mother," he replied respectfully, bowing his head. However, I already know, he thought. It was his time to ascend to the highest echelons of power, to reign supreme!
"Xiphos informed us about your encounter with the guardian," the God of light spoke for the first time. His translucent form, akin to a fragile shell containing the power of the sun, moved with animation.
Avass frowned; that wasn't what he anticipated. "Yes?" he responded hesitantly.
"I once encountered the guardian in my youth. This creature appears only when a cataclysmic change is imminent. Its arrival is a bad omen, yet it also presents an opportunity to heed its warning," Aurion explained with his resonant voice. "What most don't know, as the guardian rarely speaks to us, is that while you might be in a room full of people, he can hold separate conversations with each individual. What you hear and respond to is not necessarily heard by everyone; each holds a unique conversation with the guardian."
They wanted him here because of his encounter with the guardian? To uncover what transpired between them? What about his ascent into the pantheon? What about the recognition and glory he deserved? Avass felt the judgmental and condescending stares, realizing they still viewed him as a weak godling, an insignificant deity among the multitude striving for prominence. He was still nothing more than a pawn to them, summoned only when needed.
He grappled with an overwhelming anger that threatened to consume him, striving to remain impassive and conceal his true emotions. Despite his efforts, his reaction was evident to all present; he was certain that some among them could discern his genuine feelings even behind his facade.
Xesious regarded him with an amused expression. "Avass, don't tell me you believed there was another reason for our invitation." He erupted into laughter, his pale face filled with mirth. His laughter was echoed by scattered chuckles among the other deities.
Avass felt his anger surge even higher; he was being mocked and ridiculed! Him, the mighty and courageous Avass, treated like a powerless godling! The other Gods gazed at him with glittering eyes, brimming with amusement. He felt an urge to lash out against these arrogant deities. He was Avass, and he would make them beg for mercy one way or another!
"Now, now!" The Mother attempted to placate the rest of the pantheon, wearing a faint smile herself. "Let's not offend Avass. He's one of the brightest stars in the Gilded City, his power burgeoning by the day. Despite being young, he has garnered the devotion and faith of countless mortals." Rather than quelling the amused deities, her words only elicited more chuckles.
"Silence!" Aurion's thunderous voice reverberated through the throne room. His form flickered dangerously, momentarily resembling an exploding sun. The laughter died in their throats as they witnessed the display of power, which Avass sensed wasn't a true demonstration but merely an emotional outburst.
"Now, Avass, tell us about your conversation with the guardian." Avass reluctantly, seeing no other recourse, recounted the brief exchange. As he finished, solemnity enveloped the room, deep frowns etched on their faces.
"That's not what I heard when the guardian spoke," finally interjected Xiphos. "I fear Lysara might be right. We must take action. If the guardian is alarmed, we must heed the warning." Though Aurion's words were muttered, they reverberated across the room like celestial bodies.
The Mother, standing by Aurion's side, appeared troubled and contemplative. Her occasional glances at the other deities conveyed neither support nor dissent toward the proposed action. Avass remained rooted in place, yearning to be excused, eager to flee and never witness their mocking faces again.
"I have a task for you, Avass," Aurion proclaimed, instantly drawing the interest of everyone toward Avass. "The guardian appears only to a select few. I cannot discern the rationale behind his choices, but it seems he prefers conferring with specific individuals. For countless centuries, I have been among the fortunate ones. Later, he approached others, even some mortals. Yet, the pattern indicates that after you converse with the guardian, another visit is imminent. I need you to be prepared. I don't know if you were meant to be his companion or if it was meant for Xiphos and you happened to be there," he said, casting a glance at the god of war, "or vice versa. But I require you to find him and extract as much information as possible. The guardian is benevolent creature; all he seeks is to offer aid."
Avass nodded in compliance. When Aurion issued a command, one followed, whether inclined or not. Yet, in that moment, Avass swelled with pride. He felt special, favored among the countless deities in the Gilded City—chosen by both the guardian and Aurion.
"It shall be as you say, radiant Aurion," he respectfully bowed. "As always." The god of light responded with a trace of amusement in his voice. "You may depart now, Avass." Bowing again, Avass left the throne room in absolute silence.
The two godlings awaited just outside the door, and he greeted them with a smug smile. However much they tried or how many boots they licked, they would never match Avass's magnificence. As he journeyed back to the Gilded City, a bleak realization dawned upon him: he remained too weak to join the twelve. As much as he yearned to be their equal, he still had a long way to go. Being in their presence came as a wakeup call.
He needed to grow stronger, to harness more primal energy. The aspiration burned within him, igniting a fervor to ascend further.