The woman looked left and right, watching her peers sitting around the round table, the only other material object that existed in the void they found themselves in.
The sound of fingers tapping hard wood echoed through the vast space, purple eyes scanning its surroundings in a half bored half angry manner. If one looked very closely they would see how annoyed she was.
It had been less than 10 minutes since she received a call from the Administrator, or how she liked to call him, the 'Old Man', and she already wanted to kill him, again.
She had just found an interesting new 'toy' when she was called to this nowhere of a place, quite literally, before being forced to wait without even a single type of entertainment. No wine, no food, no games, just a bunch of stuck up Gods who, by the looks of it, had better things to do and didn't wish to be there.
That was even more for those gods with chaotic personalities, after all, today was the day when the 'Divine Sprouts' would arrive, and if they could hop in some of them that would mean a lot more fun than they had in the past century or so.
With a huff she turned back to her 'partners in boredom', judging them with her eyes. Most wore conservative clothes, hiding most of their features, though the reason she didn't know. Everyone here knew their identities, so it was pointless to wear such garments.
The only ones who didn't stick with the 'hiding mentality' went up with the complete opposite extreme.
Sitting on the other side of the table were two males and one woman, all wearing unique sets of clothes.
One of the males wore only a simple, black robe with no adornments or jewels. His hair was sometimes short, others long, but always black and fuming like the depths of an endless abyss. He was of average height and looks, the type that could blend in the crowd and simply disappear, unnoticed.
The woman was a stark contrast to him, wearing a white dress with jewels made of gold and silver all over her beautiful body. She had an hourglass figure, a flowing rainbow for hair and golden eyes that shone like the sun, contrasting with her pearl white skin.
The last man wore something that would give others a splitting headache were they mortals; even some gods were avoiding looking at him. He had a crocodile/dragon leather boot in one foot and a furred shoe on the other, grey pants made of cotton and a chicken feathered belt holding it in place; a lion pelt shirt covered his right side, leaving part of his torso exposed, with a short sleeved, red and blue striped shirt covering his left one.
In one hand he held a wood cane with a metal carved eagle head as the handle, a monocle over his right eye and a brown, derby hat with antelope and deer horns pointing upwards.
To call him eccentric would be an understatement, but he was far more than that.
The woman gave a small smile at the sight. It had been ages since she last saw him but he continued to be the same doofus of a god she remembered.
Her happiness, though, was cut short when the sound of someone clearing their throat entered her ears. Looking to her side, just like all the others present, she saw the reason why they all had been called there.
Standing in the far end of the table was an elderly man, his head bald while his chin sported a long, white beard. He wore a pure white robe, but what caught attention were his bright gold colored eyes that screamed of wisdom like no other, and two upward horns that came out from his forehead.
The man took his place in the table and pushed his hands in front of him, locking his fingers with each other as he gazed at his 'guests'.
Unsurprisingly, the one to speak first was not him, but neither was the woman who spoke. The one to speak first was another god, clad in dark-red robes and with a mask hiding his face, though not his bright red hair. The space around him seemed to distort as hot steam came out from the gaps in his clothes.
"Mimir, do you have any f***ing idea what day is today?! We have all been waiting for this day for AGES! I could be out there, searching new apostles and believers were it not for your untimely summon!"
"Calm down Ashura," the now named Mimir spoke, his voice flat, completely devoid of any emotion.
"I am well aware of what today signifies to both you and the Demon Lords. Even I was looking forward to what new changes those sprouts would bring to our world." A frown appeared in his face, something that immediately caught the other gods' attention.
"There was a … complication."
"Complication? What kind of complication?" The one to ask was the rainbow haired woman, a light frown adorning her beautiful face.
Ashura, who was fuming until a few moments ago, had calmed down, the steam disappearing alongside with the slight distortion around him.
Taking a deep breath Mimir looked at all the gods sitting in front of him and spoke, "It seems like Boromir was awakened."
The entire room became silent, more than it already was. All the gods were shocked, to say the least, some had fearful eyes with a small amount showing battle and killing intent. The only one with an amused smirk in his face was the weirdly dressed god, who soon broke the silence with a heartfelt laugh.
"Anything funny, Loki?" Mimir looked towards the being, a cocked eyebrow and a flat stare adorning his face.
"Oh my, yes? Yes!" he said in between laughs, "Do you understand what this means?! Oh the sweet, sweet Chaos!" He looked at the others, mirth all but splattered on his face while the other gods, save for a few, looked at him with death glares.
Everyone knew how crazy Loki was about chaos, being the God of Chaos and all, but if that was it then they wouldn't mind. Chaos was like a spice, and in a bland world where nothing really interesting happened, Loki was the one who provided the gods with some sort of amusement.
But sometimes he went too far, and most gods hated him for that. He interfered with their plans, adding small variables that, at times, turned their 'games' more interesting, but at others snowballed into disastrous events, destroying everything they had built so far.
For that reason there were many who wished Loki either dead or sealed, but they knew that without him they would die of boredom, so they didn't dare act harshly. Even so, that didn't mean they were happy with the current situation.
"Do you know how LONG I had waited for something like this to happen!? HAHA! This is the best day of my life!" The god disappeared from his seat and reappeared in front of Mimir, crouching on top of the table.
He grabbed the old man's face with both hands and asked with a crazy smile on his own, "tell me, who do I owe this marvelous gift?! Tell Me!!"
Before the Administrator could act, a harsh and deep voice cut through Loki's still ringing laugh and completely erased his smile.
"Loki. Sit. Down."
The god of chaos looked behind him, seeing the black robed man staring straight at him, eyes with two pupils shining in different colors as they locked on something hidden deep inside of him.
Gulping, Loki retracted his hands, made a small cleaning motion towards Mimir's robe, which immediately became ironed, and vanished, reappearing on his seat, his head cast down in shame.
Cleaning his throat, Mimir looked towards the male, giving a small nod from his head. "Thank you Sephiros," he looked back at the others. "Now, as I was saying before being rudely interrupted," he glanced at Loki, "Boromir was awakened. As to who did it, it was one of the Divine Sprouts."
He motioned his hand to stop any oncoming question, if the look of disbelief on their faces was any indication, before continuing. "It seems he found a way towards the Volcanic Steppe and, accidentally, awakened the dragon by opening the chest where his scale was being held."
"How did he get there? The Volcanic Steppe isn't a place where the Divine Sprouts should be appearing! And even with their innate power, they shouldn't be able to grow so much in the few hours since they appeared here!" Ashura inquired.
"You are right, they shouldn't. But someone helped him get there," Mimir gave a sideways glance towards the gipsy looking goddess before straightening himself up, "and because of that, now things are completely different from what they originally should be."
Liria, who until now was hoping this was just a bad prank, finally understood the severity of what was happening. She finaly understood why she wasn't able to see Mack's progress during his quest, and that was because he had awoken Boromir, and the lizard cut out any connection with that area with his Domain.
"C-Can't you fix this?" the goddess stuttered, "I mean, there must be some kind of way to get him back in sleep, right?"
The Administrator turned his entire body in her direction, making her involuntarily shrink on her sit like a child that had been caught red handed.
"I am afraid not, Liria," the worlds crushing whatever hope she still held of reversing whatever wrong she most certainly caused. "There are, indeed, special measures made to deal with Boromir, were him to awake before the prophesied time. Unfortunately, for those to be used the Divine Sprouts are needed and, as Ashura already pointed out, they are too weak for the task at the moment."
"If that is the case, it would be better to just leave him be for the moment," the one who spoke up was Sephiros, who had risen from his seat and was preparing to leave. "There isn't much we can do, and it's not like that old lizard will do anything, or did you all forget? Unless someone tries to mess with balance he won't make a move."
He turned around and started walking away before stopping and looking over his shoulder, a devilish smirk on his face. "Besides, this will only make things even more interesting, don't you all agree?"
His image became blurry and, with a swuush, he disappeared from that space, leaving some gods with weird looks on their faces, Loki, who was now 'free', grinning like mad and Liria with a bad feeling on the bottom of her stomach as Mimir simply sighed at all the trouble that was to come.
*
*
*
Inside an underground temple, dozens of cultist kneeled down and prayed towards an altar in hopes of reaching their Master and Savior. All wore black robes and a small rope wrapped around their waists like belts.
The temple was an enormous stone construction; torches with bright red and purplish flames illuminated its interior. The building was divided in four parts: one as the quarters for the believers; another as the 'mess hall'; the third for their physical and magical training; and the fourth part, the biggest of them all, as the main temple and altar where they united themselves in prays and adoration.
On the far end of the room stood a square altar, where a kneeling man, wearing a dark-blue robe and a golden colored rope around his waist, symbol of his status as high priest, waited for a sign from their Lord.
The prayers continued uninterrupted, until all the flames started to go out, one by one. The cultist didn't seem surprised by that; rather, they were expecting it. The room became silent, eyes filled with expectation and admiration as they turned in unison towards the altar where a whirlwind of darkness formed before molding itself in the shape of a robed man.
Sephiros looked down at his followers, a neutral look on his face. A thunderous sound soon filled the entire room, the form of a word just barely understandable due to the sheer amount of pressure contained in that action.
"High Priest"
"I am here, Marshal," the man answered, bowing deeply before straightening himself up. The title was how the Lord had asked to be called by his followers, something they didn't quite understand why, but accepted nonetheless.
Sephiros looked at him, a serious look appearing on his face. "You are aware that the Divine Sprouts have arrived today, correct?" his voice was now much more bearable, but a small pressure could still be felt from it.
"Yes. We have already made preparations to search possible believers from among them, perhaps even an apostle if you so desire." The high priest answered in happiness, after all, it had been too long since a new brother had entered their ranks.
They needed new blood; youngsters that could help spread the greatness of their savior, and, maybe, find someone that could become his incarnation, even if he himself did not wish for that.
"Stop thinking about unnecessary things," he warned, which promptly got him a deep bow as an answer.
"I came here to give a warning to our Brotherhood"
The high priest cocked his head in confusion, "a warning, Marshal?"
"Yes. One of the Divine Sprouts has ties with Boromir," the piece of news shocked the priest. He knew very well who the cataclismic dragon was, and now someones with ties to him had appeared. Many plans surged in his head on how to either use or eliminate that variable.
Sensing the brewing plots on his follower's mind Sephiros spoke in a stern tone, "I don't care what ties that being has with Boromir, but I want the entire Brotherhood to be aware of this," he grew larger in size, bloodlust spread in the room as a menacing voice spoke, "no matter what happens, I DO NOT wish for any conflicts with him. DO NOT engage in combat with him. DO NOT approach him. I don't want ANYONE close to him or his comrades if he has any. Do you understand?"
The cultists kowtowed upon hearing these words, fear appearing in the back of their heads. The high priest kneeled, cupping his fist before saying in a fearful voice, "We understand!"
Sephiros returned to his normal form and gave a slight nod, knowing that his warning had been given and that any possible misshap stopped, for now. The priest and followers soon stood up as his body vanished from the room, leaving the group in a state of shock and confusion.