Issac woke up with a shock a few moments ago, when Azora threw him into the pool of water inside the cathedral.
He felt his wounds healing. His ribs snapped, and he could feel them moving slowly back into the right place. The whole process was very painful. The blood on his body, and his face disappeared as it touched the water.
He punched the water.
"Are you mad?" He looked over to see Azora squatting by the edge of the water.
"Yes. Nothing has changed from before." He said in a low tone.
"hmmm" She hummed as she stood up and started pacing back and forth.
"I recommend you find a mentor to train you how to fight. You should ask one of the others. Then you can try to summon your Divine Weapon. There has to be a reason for you being chosen by Lir to be a guardian." She finally said after a while of walking.
"Divine Weapon? What's a Divine Weapon?" Issac asked.
"It's exactly what it sounds like. It's a gift from the gods that one can only get after they make a covenant with one. Think like Matthaus' sword, or my whip." She answered.
"Do you see that mark on the back of your hand?" Azora pointed. "That's the covenant seal. That is your soul, it has been compressed into that shape. You can use it to summon your Divine weapon. Manifesting it without the proper strength could be risky. That's why I recommend training first."
He glanced at the mark on his hand.
"So Matthaus was already a Guardian?" He asked.
"No, you don't have to be a Guardian to have a covenant seal. You just have to make a covenant, Matthaus inherited his mark from his father. Before you die you can also choose to pass on your Divine Weapon to someone of your bloodline. If the being you made the deal with approves" She continued. "They can then improve the weapon more during their lifetime."
"I need to become stronger." He said. He clenched his fist and looked at it closely. His wounds were almost healed now and he was feeling much better.
"You are my guardian, Not just any weakling could protect an Oracle." She said proudly.
"You're right…" His expression turned dark.
"No no, I mean, you are already strong Issac. You are not powerful yet, but you are strong."
He guessed she was trying to cheer him up, but he had a lot on his mind. So the God Lir chose them. Why him though? There was nothing special about him. What was his purpose? Could he even survive this journey? He had no answers. He didn't even know much about The Endless Night in the first place. Why did he agree to this again?
That's right, he sighed. "Let's just go with the flow." He said out loud. Azora looked at him quizzically.
"Training, and invoking my divine weapon. I will make sure to become a Guardian you can admire Azora." He said.
He had resolved. If fate was to force this role upon him he was going to make sure he could survive. Plus he had this feeling inside, something he couldn't articulate with words. He wanted to make Azora recognize his strength? No maybe that wasn't it. He wanted to be as powerful as the heroes in the stories? He just didn't know what was driving him to act or feel this right now.
One thing he was sure of though.
He looked up at Azora, her face glowing with that same smile he had seen since yesterday.
"I look forward to it Issac."
He wanted to protect her.
At that moment Azora's eyes turned milky white once more. Startled he stood up from the fountain. The Watcher appeared in the back of the room. Issac started to climb out of the water, an awkward silence filled the room. The only sound that could be heard was the dripping of water onto the floor, courtesy of his wet clothes. A few minutes went by before Azora's eyes returned to normal.
"Go gather the others." She said with a stern look.
They all gathered in the main room of the church. Issac took the time to change his clothes before informing everyone. Azora sat on the throne while they gathered to stand in front of her. After a moment of silence she spoke.
"The first Lord has awoken."
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In a sprawling and lovely meadow outside the town of Kullik, the corpse of a man lay still deep underground. His eyes suddenly sprang open. The next thing he sees is a black hand seize his face, and yank him from the earth.
"HA! HAHAHAHAHAHA!" The sound of deep laughter filled the meadow.
"General Giffrei Cler! To be the first to be revived by me, you must be regretting your fate. I on the other hand find this very amusing." His deep voice resounded, and the laughing continued.
The man strode back and forth in front of the general. Giffrei was hunched over on the ground coughing dirt out of his lungs. He looked at the man before him. His shredded uniform, the bits of putrid flesh on his face and arms. This man was once his King.
"GORM!!!" He screamed, as he stared up at the man.
An intense look of fury appeared on his face. Gorm grabbed Giffrei by the face again, and slammed the back of the General's head into the ground. He had no time to react, he was just too fast. The entire meadow was now a deep crater from the impact of the blow. The world around them seemed to be tainted a dark purple, as thunder cracked in the sky above. Thousands of dead bodies littered the crater now, unearthed by the power of the blow.
"I am King Gorm, you will address me as such. You traitor!" Gorm barked
"You are not my King anymore." Giffrei's muffled voice came from behind the decaying hand holding his face.
The bodies started to jerk and shudder as life returned to them. Some in broken armor with broken weapons. Many even missing limbs. They started to gather in a circle around the two men. A group of drummers arose. They started to beat the drums and the army started to chant. Gorm looked around with delight and let out a war-cry that caused the Earth to quake around him