Zahir, the King of Chaos.
***
When faced with the light of her son's defeat, the Empress of Epeth knew despair, but that was just a prelude for the Empress without trials.
She learned of her son's success in the mid-year ceremonies, and that uplifted her for a time, only for the news of his apparent kinship with the Eternal to bring her to rock bottom.
Or so she thought.
Anarchy was overdue in Maru, and the Empress of Epeth was poised auspiciously to witness its return.
She stood at the edge of her balcony. Looking but not seeing. Lamenting her inability to contact her son directly. If only for the few fleeting moments of privacy she had.
Her people were suffering, her aide told her back in her office. And not just the filth in the third barrier. Some of the high class in the second were as well suffering.
"Perhaps their positions are unwarranted, then." The Empress of Epeth snorted. "If they can hardly handle some slushy mana, it must be embarrassing to see how are they reacting to that."
It was an apt statement, no matter how cold. The Ascension of Imkeruram nearly caused her to panic, so she knew the truth of the matter- my worship had already begun.
"There are reports of riots in the third yard, your Imperial Greatness. Some think it to be the end of days."
"Not so." The Empress of Epeth huffed again, looking at the telltale designs of the immense structures floating above. "Someone has simply found a way to unearth a mountain. My guess would be elves. The events align with those of the olden days. Floating mountains notwithstanding."
"And the giant pillar, your Imperial Greatness?"
"Our Tree of Life. Maru. Dead and buried by the sands of time." She paused, holding the obvious on the tip of her tongue. 'Unearthed by someone, somehow. But for what reason?'
My worship had already begun. Yet, it was but a whisper, compared to the storm that was brewing in Maru, and the Empress of Epeth was poised auspiciously to feel the crack of its debut.
She stood in the midst of her office. Seeing but not looking. Wondering about the nature of this new power, if only for a silent second before the titanic crash of thunder rattled her castle for a second time.
She witnessed it in the utmost detail. A material web with hues of gold, silver, green, and blue slammed into the severed tree of life, dispersing an arcane shockwave that blasted through the foundation of her first barrier. Then the second. Then the third.
Only then did she act to prevent my worship. Yet… such things had become an unstoppable wave, vainly opposed by the valiant.
Valiantly, she formed a barrier around her great bay, saving the castles raised within from structural damage, but not what came after.
And so, she proudly turned to face despair- to see her aide on the ground, to hear her choking breath. Then she felt it. The arcana swarming around her castle- nay, the entire realm.
Aid was called to her. Likewise, she was called to… something.
"You." A deep, sonorous voice beckoned her eyes down to a cat of disturbingly large proportions. It was as large as a mastiff, with orange fur that seemed to leave dust lingering in the wake of its steps. Yet… it seemed familiar to her. Especially as it sat regally atop a custom pillow, grooming himself before settling his amber eyes on the Empress of Epeth. "You should be more kind to animals."
"L- Lotta… it's me." The Empress of Epeth began, and in ways that would make any listeners believe her to be remorseful- humbled.
Not the cat.
"You should have been more kind… to me!"
Rearing up as if threatened, Lotta gathered mana in its body and forced it through its feet as it relaxed, making for quite a contrast as the explosive spell crumbled the stone to dust beneath them.
And so, the Empress of Epeth came to know anarchy.
She fell, begged, pleaded, beckoned for help, and found it in the most unexpected place.
She found it in the form of the strangest being in existence, falling next to her, giving her the brightest idea. Two barriers. One shaped around her body, with her arms and legs outstretched to extend her armor into the form a sphere. Then a second one to contain the first, leaving just enough for it to spin inside. She would be dizzy, but she would survive and thus taste the full course of anarchy.
The landing was rough. But she emerged in one piece to turn her gaze upon the place she'd spent her life. The cheeky cat only sent her plummeting below. The rest of her castle remained unscathed. Unprotected. Unguarded and thus in a state more turbulent than the waters she now faced.
The slaves were unbothered by the arcane energy around them and the beasts of burden turned magical, worked with them in destroying all her ancestors created. And though they were few in number, she knew that any who could survive in arcana was one to be wary of. Not to mention, there was bound to be more in the heartlands. But just as I knew what would come of her if she attempted to sneak through her lands to some place of solace, so too did this new Marulean God.
"I'll give you sanctuary. But only because I agreed to help your son." She turned to the sound of that voice and saw that strange being's phantasmal form, pointing to the great pillar dominating the sky. "It'll be quite the journey, though."
***
Sutark, the Burning Wrath.
***
The time for our worship was at an all-time high. And not just us, but the Dwarven and Halfling Gods of Maru as well.
For some, their most prevalent domains were bursting at the seams with faith. For others, like mine, it brewed, it festered, it gestated in both our realm and the ones below. Yet, in one place since centuries long past, my faith and the faith of one other had never faltered from its peak.
Hatred came in many forms, yet it always gave way to fury. Thus begets war. Thus begets vengeance. Such was the case for the most verboten of places in the whole of our realm. Doubly so for those most civilized.
In the north of that place, beneath a sphere of arcane energy, the wild elves of frost and the mighty Jotun had known such vile things as the blood of life. They warred and thus knew furious hatred for many things: the creatures due south; the magic they contained; the weak on the other side, closer to the distant sun. And so, they used the spoils of their realms to wait in their strongholds and camps for the day that was now due.
This day; and the years to come.
Arcana. It flowed through the realm like the waters of the World Sea, enriching all from the soil to the portals that would see to the realm's ruin. From the coldest of those very things emerged herds of yeti, young and ambitious white dragons, and legions of Jotun, mounted atop their colossal beasts of war, aiming to compete for lands long settled. And yet, such a fervent worship of war was not only seen there, in the gelid expanses of the north.
In the temperate regions due south, it was a veritable stampede that gave me worship. Or rather, a march. A horde of pointed spears and charged bows stomped forward by talons and hooves at a furious pace. The green tide I had to respect and needed to hate. However, somewhere among them were scales of green that could hardly been seen; even by the eyes of one like me.
It was the same in one other place and one place more, but only one of them was found in the ancient dale of lore. That stampede, however, that tide, was the source of my hatred; and that of my brothers' too. A city of green, both big and small, now uprooted by the influx of red. Civil, yet militant and thus highly organized, they flooded the ancient city, building it into a grand fortress with the lesser, uncivilized greens as their working force.
Vile though these things were, they were tame in comparison to the largest giver of hate in Maru. It had been there for centuries, in the far south of Ulai- a low level fiend who once found itself in a verdant realm without challenge. Moreover, it found itself with the perfect object to appease its nature. And so it grew, and in record time. Sentience, fertility, power, and more. It gained and gathered these things as it prepared for a grand war.
A war that was due in these here days.
***
Viltramas, the Valiant Conquerer.
***
Arcane Mage Katia Garaki. I had to keep my eye on her, for she reminded me of my sister so.
Like our dear Amazonia, her life was a constant campaign of power brought about by her strength. She acted both with and against it- power- seeking to conquer it before it did her.
Such struggles bore the wisdom of the ancients; such experiences gave rise to a studious mind and thus a superior intellect- powers in and of themselves. Yet still, she proved to be indomitable. Not only by power, but on all fronts. She was the quintessential Amazonian. Thus, she knew as well as I did. About everything.
Though she had never witnessed him do such things; though she hadn't been made to understand these things by any of us, she knew who allowed creatures of the sea to swim through the skies like the birds now flapping their wings through turbulent seas. She knew who caused the creatures of Maru to grow and evolve before her eyes. She knew who caused the ancient construct in Ulai to grow stronger while the barriers in Epethia shattered.
She knew who was behind the inverted mountain in the sky.
She knew of the things connecting them. Thus, she knew who would be willing to break the one, most important thing; if only to gain the slightest chance of fixing everything. And so, in this realm and the next, she dispatched her subordinates to begin a preliminary conquest of her own- a campaign for power; and those indomitable to it. Because this time, victory was the only option.
***
Ein, the Elder Scribe.
***
Of all of my champions, agents, clerics, and odds, none were more regarded than the 'Clan of Silver Beasts.' A curiosity and an oddity, for the three ancient families each had a prodigy. Yet, only one was not linked to a deity, Eternal or not. A fitting shame, for the Light, in its endless avarice, had since claimed the Life of the next realm. And so, in this one, nature would do what was needed to correct her imbalance.
A fitting shame; and a colossal irony.
History often repeats. That, everyone knows. What was oft unknown, however, was that sometimes, when the present was a replay of the past, the roles were reversed. Mirrored. Yet… some things remained the same. Like the ancient family of silver.
Silva, from their perch on high, soared along the waters of time like all others, recording; investigating; inscribing the annals of history without prejudice or bias. A staunch devotion they took upon themselves and thus were aided by me, the God of such noble things. Until now.
Now, I could see their newest successful candidate attempting to do as each of his ancestors did before him. His eyes flicked across the Marulean skies, his mind peered through clouds and stone alike to discern the truth of hidden things.
His eyes saw the same things all others saw: a ringed city of an inverted mountain, with a stellar companion of living metal. Metal that moved with a mind of its own. His mind only saw the same thing I saw: a haze, impenetrable in ways that cemented both of our assumptions.
Only one of us acted, however, for only one of us could.
To his elders, Silva went. To Silva, the elders tasked an investigation, and for the first time in history, Silva's champion was reluctant, claiming he believed their ruler knew what he was before his ascension; and that if they met now, their Emperor would undoubtedly see the truth. Thus, his Empire would know the truth.
And so, like me, they were faced with a choice. A choice to make themselves known for the first time since the death of Maru, or to remain in hiding.
If they could.
***
Grimm, the Reaper.
***
A Marulean Goddess, I was, and yet more. A secret. Like my lineage. Like my touch.
Above the Marulean Deities, we were. No secret. And my domains. And my shadows.
They had been waiting, as shadows do. Waiting for the time long transcribed by those of the Fae.
Fae. Since time immemorial, my shadows had come for them. I heard their secrets. And so, before any other besides our champion, I made a champion of my own. A young mother's brood, favored by the new God himself. Kin. A gift to aid him in these trying times, as He had done for the brood's mother. A living Shadow of my realm. Blessed with my gift of undeath.
Son of Caia. Cain of Cole.
Reaper of Grimm.
***
Nergal, the Macabre Maestro.
***
Down, down, down, in the world of dark, existed some flippantly provocative marks.
Elves, Fae, wishing for play; or the virulence born in the light of the day.
Yet, there was something unknown to them all, the two silent shadows splayed against the wall.
The Duke of pure darkness and a Monarch so Macabre, looking down with disdain at this infectious mob.
Planning and scheming, training each day; begging their peers to hold their weapons at bay.
Spiders, horned horses; enemies of the Judge. Champions-to-be, once they received their nudge.
The nudge, the news. Tales from their Demon Goddess; to worship her more fervently, and pray to her their hardest.
Other elves, however, continued with their business; training and organizing, relaying their wishes.
But some did like the Monarch, so Macabre; they stroked the deep root, then croaked and then cawed.
And so the Monarch whispered an echo of their torment. "The Tree is no longer dead. Yet, not alive. Dormant."
***
Newt, the Lost.
***
Everyone knew of my realm. Yet, few knew of me. Thus, things were in perfect order.
Like Death and the Reaper, I was an Elder Night. Faith itself was beneath me, for my essence was ingrained into the Crypts of Ancients, the Labyrinths of Old, the Dungeons of Yore; the Darkworld itself.
I was my realm, and my realm was me, as every deity was. Yet, our cases made that true in more than one sense, as it was with the eternal night soon to spread across the realms.
The old species knew of the swinging pendulum that saw darkness and light rule intermittently, yet few knew it was our presence that first made it swing. Fewer knew this to be the time when the pendulum would lose its momentum and come to a rest, never to swing again. He was that time.
I witnessed him create in my radiance. I felt him destroy in it. I allowed him to birth things anew in my domain. Thus, I knew what was to come.
I could see the reactions born from those of us still mortal before it ever even began. Thus, I watched. Intimately. As I had always done.
"Somehow." The so-called 'great' Necro-King echoed, followed by the derisive snort of his descendant.
"Somehow? Your great-grandson is how! I knew Amun was special. But-"
"To think I'm a God is unthinkable?"
They spun at the sound. And indeed they saw their descendant- the Eternal Champion. Not quite in the flesh. Not quite as he was remembered.
"Would you have believed me if I told you?" He spread his arms just as the shockwave of Mani's rebirth swept through my realm. A wave of radiance, much like my own, but tainted with a wicked light.
So it was. The pompous Fae saw their long plans disrupted. Slashed by felines and made pestilent by rodents, devoured by snakes. Destroyed by owls. Creatures they destroyed in kind.
"This is your doing?" The Duke of Darkness turned to him, a slight smile on the corner of his lips.
"Indirectly." The Champion said. "I am the God of Mana, thus I am the God of Change, among other things. Once I ascended, divine mana started pouring off of me and pulling some material off the Southern Bodhi Peninsula of its own volition. It formed a beam that launched across the World Sea. That was a few months ago. So, it must've been moving pretty slow."
"It crossed the World Sea?" The Necro King echoed, a proud grin layered beneath his gruff voice.
"Yes." His image nodded. "I had no idea what it would do. I didn't think it'd be all this, though."
"And what is… all this?" The Duke asked.
"My mana domain has resurrected the tree of life. But not fully. As Grandpa Lich said, it's dormant. Yet, it filled the realm with arcana, which changed many of the creatures within and attracted many more from the portals. One of my domains sort of… merged the sea with the sky."
His essence, pouring off his hand held wide, saw fit to create an illusion, pointing to the glistening web of stone and silver light spread across the skies. "Tch." Amun tutted, dropping his hand. "Anyway, that ring is the result of all my hard work, and was formed from my engineering- or artificing domain."
'What ring?' I could feel Emeric wanted to ask. Yet the illusion shifted to show the ringed inverted mountain orbiting Maru.
"I killed some bandits for them in exchange for giving Letta and Giorno a place to stay during my absence. The village wasn't up to standard, however, so I taught them a few things and helped them rebuild. They pledged their fealty to me and sold their souls to me in the process. I've been uplifting them from the Bodhi Tree ever since. Now, they've grown from a meek tribe known by Hill Base to Imkeruram, the mortal capital of my arcane, technological Empire of Eotrom.
"I have also formed guild while at the Bodhi Tree," The Champion said, turning his gaze toward the Fae. "And when we return, we'll be crusading against them."
***
Yue: The Winter Song.
***
The things coming to Maru: destruction, strife, poverty, war, peace, prosperity; they were natural. It mattered not how much mortals refused it, abhorred it; or, conversely, reveled in it. This much was true. At heart, nearly every mortal knew this.
The things to befall the Mortal Plane: darkness and death on scales unimaginable to even us. To those of us who witnessed the rise and fall of Maru, we knew this to be natural. It mattered not what the light's intentions were when they sought to infect Nonus. This was the only consequence. Yet, almost no mortal could foresee it.
The things to pour from that new realm: Untethered Trees of Life with natures incomprehensible to even us, born from the very hands of the Champion and his pantheon.
These would doom or uplift us all. That, every deity knew. And so, nearly every deity tried their hardest to catch a glimpse of what I could stare at so easily, for they were searching for knowledge not privy to their eyes. They were looking at individuals. In some cases, they looked not at all. But in any case, they could not look into those clouds how I could: through the eyes of my children- my humans. Through them, I saw a city of grandiose scale.
I saw a man- a King in mind, body, spirit, and soul. Silas. He stood inverted among equal parts city and forest, craning his neck up in order to look down on the new branch of nature to befall the Mortal Plane. Plants and animals, fungi and insects, all made of metal and intelligent beyond comparison. And not just creatures, machinations akin to the things made by dwarves. Machinations capable of thought. And not just machinations. Materials made divine from the most mundane of things. Materials capable of sentience.
And so, a sentient ruby, sapphire, and emerald saw fit to merge with a diamond capable of containing vast information. Once they formed a singular jewel with a white radiance, they saw fit to forge one of those machinations into an armored body of metallic flesh and presented itself before this Paragon King Silas to speak in the voice of its creator.
Yet, it addressed all of Maru.
"This reaction to my ascension was beyond my control. It is... not what I expected. And yet, it could not have gone more smoothly. In truth, it's more or less what I intended. But let me start from the beginning."
The booming thunder of his voice echoed and waned as the roiling clouds above took the shape of that long awaited champion, his sea-green eyes focused on the realm below.
"My fellow Maruleans." His voice thundered. "I am Amun Za'Darmondiel-Nox, the Twenty-Fifth Child of the Nox and the God-Emperor of Eotrom. Our capital, Imkeruram, is the ring you see in the sky. I am no ruler of Maru, however, and neither is my empire. We do not seek to conquer or rule. Only to make Maru better by ridding our realm of the threats looming in Ulai.
"However." The rumbles intensified, and so too did the very skies and soil of Maru fill with something grim. "This stage has not been set by nature. Youteran interlopers- elves of all types have invaded our realm, hiding like cowards in the Darkworld as they spread beneath every continent.
"They are the cause for the rise in mana. Though I am responsible for its peak. Their God and Goddesses have meddled with the minds and lives of their children. Thus, they have been tasked with meddling with mine. Not by coming after me themselves. But by barging into my home and making a mess of things in my absence.
"Yet, unbeknownst to them, my spirit has remained in Maru. Even during my time at the Bodhi Tree, long before my ascension, my hands have been toiling in Maru, the realm in which I was born. And so, I can see them in the Darkworld, fighting my creatures as they barrel their way to the surface- to meddle with your minds and lives; to bring suffering to you and your children for the pleasure of their laughing gods. And so, I am here!" He declared with raucous thunder and flashing lightning.
"I am here, a realm away, telling you all that I will not let them. I will not allow them to cull my home for the whims of their gods. Thus, should you take it, I give you, my fellow Maruleans, the strength to fight and the knowledge to fight smartly. I give you the ultimate freedom to embark on a crusade across our realm. Not in my name; and not for the sake of my glory; but for the future of our realm, and the denial of what they so zealously crave.
"So make your choice and be free. Live on the surface as you were before. Dwell in a paradise of progress in the sky. Or test your might against the dangers below. That's what there is now. That's what there will be when I arrive with my legions- a playground of prowess; set between a manufactured heaven and hell. A Realm of Power for my fellow Maruleans, made powerful.
"And to you, Youteran interlopers listening in, the invaders in Ulai, and the usurpers in between; to the wood elves of the horned horse and the red-eyed drow, I welcome you to your Deathworld." The booming thunder of his voice echoed and waned as the clouds dispersed, leaving the juxtaposition of Tiatus's radiance and that wickedness left behind, roiling from the tongue of the first devil, spoken in his eldritch language. "For death will be your only release."