The Plight Of The Gods

[Taiga 764]

The Plight of the Gods

" Illuminate the Threats, and Obscure them. That is the will of the Illum. "

" The Obscurum provides justice. Sanctity. And Power. Those who grow tired of the Gods, must usurp their tyrannical rule. "

It is the beginning of the end. The cries of the Netherdrake could be heard from across Aegis. The lands, swept by a baptism of fire, raze what is left of our fair civilization. The cries of anguish and yells of pain could be heard by the people, running for sanctity in the Verge. Even the hostile lands there seem peaceful now.

Is this what I receive for years of worship?

Is this what Iblees brings for his loyal supporters?

Gathering what is left of the Black Hand, we don our heavy cloaks, trudging through the snow. We look around, seeing the chaos that is Aegis. Lava flows down from the buildings of Galahar and snow still falls. The physics of the world have fallen in great disarray. The heat barely melting the snow upon the floor. Even the taint has spread to every crevice of the world, the living dead erupting from the ground before us.

One brother falls. We continue with the journey.

On the journey, I begin to comprehend my standing in the world. What my purpose is. I had begun to realize my foolishness that is my life, what I have done. Why should I follow one that brings anguish to myself? Why should I serve one that only serves their own interests?

Aeriel, the root of all evils, the rouser of Iblees, bringer of the downfall of Aegis.

It was her who had caused this entire incident. She laughs in glee, seeing our anguish, saving us to preserve that entertainment.

Iblees, the dog who bites the feeding hand. The god who lets Aeriel have her joy.

It was not Iblees who had brought the onslaught of the world. It was the gods. The world was fine as it was before they arrived on our plane. They bring about weakness to our races and obtain worshipers for power. I must rectify this plight, to become a god myself. To lead an army of gods, bringing the pain, anguish, and death to them. It is time to usurp their thrones and take upon what is ours.

The power to change our fates and freedom. To liberate those oppressed and destroy the weak. Bring upon the reign of the strong and powerful, and we shall overthrow the tyrants.

[Taiga 764]

I arrived with only two companions. The verge's depth casts a gloomy shadow across my face. I continue my journey. I look around to see the people, propped against the walls. Limbs afire and blood splatters across their clothes. My eyes have opened. The path Illuminated and the lies Obscured.

I have been enlightened.

We toss our cloaks aside, forgetting the past and embracing the future, and begin our ascension into the surface. Our trek was slow and painful, being pushed and pulled by the myriads of people, seeking asylum from the onslaught. The cries of the Nether Drake could still be heard through the portal, forcing all to quicken their escape.

We arrive to the gloomy rain of the Verge. Looking around, we hear shouting from the port as boats were being constructed hastily. The hammer's ring filled the air as they crafted iron bondings for the roughly patched wood. Cries of relief and joy filled the faces of the people. In a world without gods, happiness can be sought out.

I wish for this to be true for myself. I have had nothing but anguish from my inception, yearning for the embracing of the people and admiration of the common folk.

"The Illuminus Obscura," I told Nightmare.

[Taiga 764]

My revenant turned to look at me. He asked what I had meant.

"Did you ever... wish to become a god?" I had asked him.

He replied with a hiss and a shake of the head.

I then began to explain what had riddled my mind since the first roar of the Nether Drake. His dark, red eyes widened as I explained to him what I believed to be lies and truths. I told him the relationship between Iblees, Aeriel, and the gods. For the first time, he had unhooded himself. His figure, shifting through reality, had possessed a glint in his eyes.

I told him about true happiness and how we could obtain it through godhood. The tyrants, the only standing between mortal boundaries and the domain of godhood. I enlightened him with ideas and ordeals that describe the gods and their tyranny. When put into place, they had all made sense. Everything made sense. The world, the universe, the lands, had all begun to make sense.

"We are all slaves," I had concluded, "The gods are the puppetmasters."

[Taiga 764]

The horns of the boats rang through the skies. The final departure had begun. And to a new world, I face with unblinking eyes.

I must protect the integrity and freedom of the people.

To rid the world of the gods and those who worship them.

To preserve and enlighten the public, and to open the doors of godhood.

Together, we can become gods.

Now is the time to ask yourself. Do you see the wrongdoings of the gods? Are you enlightened to the threat they pose to our societies? Do you want Asulon, our final destination, to be ruined by the god's plague?

Are you prepared to enter the god's domain and relieve the power from their hands?

[Taiga 764]

I awaken to the sand's soft feel. A warm breeze drifted across my cloak, chilling my wet body. I continued to rest there until I realized where I was.

I realized, I didn't know where I was. I awoke to the smell of the ocean and the soft sand in my mouth. Somehow, I felt as a burden had been lifted from my shoulders. I was sane once more, the tainted grasp dissipated. Suddenly, an immense headache drove its way into my mind, drilling to the core, puncturing the soft innards of my conscience. I saw a depiction of Erus, the other half of my soul. I realized, he still existed.

I awoke once more to the scent of trees and leaves. Carried by Nightmare, I was settled down in a dark forest. Some houses were built upon these trees. Murmurs and whispers surrounded this forest inhabited by few. I propped myself against the bedpost, my eyes blearily coming into focus.

"We are settled," said Nightmare, waving to Malice and Sprat.

I nodded slowly and donned a mask I had crafted for us to wear.

"Wear this. We do not wish for our old identities to plague the populous," I replied.

Nightmare faltered, being a true masochist from birth.

"Erus, are you sur—,"

"I am not Erus any longer. Ryder Bane has returned from the depths of my mind," I had replied.

[Taiga 764]

There I had stayed for a week onwards. Recovering from the ship wreck, I heard a tongue unlike anything I have ever heard. Looking from my loft in the trees, tall, dark, and gaunt figures traveling in a pack. They were lightly armed, carrying the simplest of weaponry and bore crude symbols on their robes. I did not like the looks of these people.

When they spoke, it was in a articulated manner. Their speech was comprehensible and their gestures were erratic and jerky. I eyed them narrowly, noting their garb, speech, and appearance. They seemed primitive and only understood some of the gestures we had meant. Yet, due to the elves' kind nature, they were welcomed into society without another thought.

This, is the weakness of the people. Forgiving and kind. Two traits that define those who belong to the weak.

Taking a short break from solitude, I had wandered off into the forest. I stumbled upon a broken path and a ruin. Walking on the old stones, silverfish erupted by the hundreds and a swarm gathered in an instant. They did not bother me much, except quicken my pace. Stepping into the old structure, many tomes were found of yore. They all seemed very old, a few centuries by my reckoning, and began to inspect these ancient books.

Browsing through the immense collection, most of the contained diaries, short epiphanies, and poems. Only one of these however, were of any interest to me. I opened the dusty tome, its edges eaten by silverfish, and turned the pages ever so slightly, revealing to me the past of the Mori'Quessir.

Vile savages who worshiped a Spider Goddess. Their so-called creator and granter of their powers, attributes, and culture. I put down the book and replaced it whence it came.

Even in this world, the gods grasp our strings relentlessly.

I will bring salvation.

[Taiga 764]

Malice... today has been a great disappointment. I thought he had more in him to study these vile natives. He took the liberty and threw a torch at their kin, blinding their eyes and sending their fury alight. Their tactics were rough but graceful, nothing short of savages living in these vile lands. They are like a plague, appearing at almost every nation since our arrival to this foreign land.

Many have attempted to make peace, but this is to no fault. Ruthlessly striking down the Princess Lirinya, I believe they are too vicious for the rest of the Aegians to handle. Once more, I have seen the creations of the gods come to a fault, planting the seed that drove them delirious. Today, I begin a campaign for followers. I am under the impression many have wanted to conquer these savages, and I am not impartial to this idea. They are not unlike dogs, talking in comprehensible tongues and using gestures to communicate. They bite when they are angry and they show no sign of happiness. Constantly chewing the hand that feeds them, they appreciate nothing of our aid and enslave our children with no regret.

Should we allow the gods to rally our people up and pen them like slaves? Are we sheep to be herded and leeched upon?

[Taiga 764]

As I treaded back towards the Realm of Hanseti, I had received a Raven of Black, holding a parchment in its talons. Putting my arm forward, the raven landed upon my erect arm, its weight bearing against my arm. Pulling it close to me, I used my left arm to unfurl the leather bag upon its talons. As it rears to begin its flight, I open the parchment roll.

" Master, I wish to meet you. I wonder if you are still alive and well. Meet me at the Cloud Temple. "

Affixed to the end of the letter, read Eziano Mortale.

I livened my pace and set out for the Cloud Temple. Nearing a road, I had begun following the path. I had reached a small, tranquil Elven settlement. A peculiar elf loitered upon the village's centre. Entertaining a few elves, I had approached him to spare a loaf of bread. Looking at my odd person, he dispersed the small crowd of women and approached me. Directing me to a nearby inn, I had stayed there for a night, I awoke and clambered off my bed.

Heading out, the entertainer was still upon a stone, singing a small tune. Upon seeing a Native of the land, he scoffed loudly, enough for me to hear. I knew, this man had something against them. An ally will help in these relentless lands. I approached him and asked about the Natives.

"Those Native fools," were the words I muttered.

The entertainer turned to see me. Recognizing me from the night before, he graciously greeted me and handed me a drink. I relinquished the mask from my face, breathing a breath of fresh air, the first in many weeks in Asulon. I then inquired about his relations to the Mori'Quessir. He saw them as dogs, untamed animals, unlike the many on Asulon that already exist. He saw them as vile creatures that must be exterminated, ridden from the face of the world.

Turning the conversation to my liking, I inquired if they followed a set path, a religion. What he did only confirmed the tome I had read upon days ago. It was true then. The gods are present even here.

[Taiga 764]

A years have passed since he has viewed the light of day, spending his time meditating in a dark cavern. The wind blows forms a draft, calling for him to reawaken from his trance. He slowly stirs once more, steadying his feet as he ascends the depths of the cavernous environment. He makes his way towards a ladder, pulling himself upwards, the supports straining under the foreign weight, weak from the rot and mold forming over the wood beams.

He manages to open the trapdoor from his prison, the sun glaring at his eyes. He stumbles blindly as the heat pounds on his body and eyes, managing to pull himself into a small hut. He binds his eyes with a piece of cloth torn from one of his sleeves to form a shade. Seeing all that has changed, he begins his work anew...

He calls for his servants, one one answers. Another year passes as walls are erected, and yet another comes and go as a temple's foundations are made.

[steelersfan1221 300]

Moved to the Great Library. It shall be sorted into appropriate category shortly.