《Death's Door》Volume 1: Chapter 21- Epilogue
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All life has a beginning and an end. An end that was unavoidable; a conclusion to what once was vibrant and full of energy. Simply put, it was death. And the one who embodied such an aspect of this reality was none other than primordial god of death, Olim himself.
While the gods are known as primary gods and secondary gods, there is another class of gods that is different from either, called the primordial gods. Primary gods, numbering less than twenty, were the leading gods that embodied one aspect of reality, such as earth, water, fire, etc. The secondary gods were in a sense the lackeys, the servants, or in worse cases slaves to the primary gods. They had their powers derived from the primary god, but their powers were mere fraction of primary god’s. While primary gods could appoint anyone they wanted as secondary gods, thus deitifying them in the process, it was a common practice to turn angels, the beings that came to this realm from their own world, into their servants. Angels were, in a sense, disembodied energy beings, at least in this world, with no way of interacting with the world. They represented a threat to gods that they could not control, for the angels lacked souls, thus they had no fate that gods could manipulate. In order to alleviate this problem, a practice of turning angels into secondary deities was invented. The practice was pioneered by Olim, but the other gods soon started to emulate him as well. In a sense, it was a trade; primary deity would deitify the angel, in the process giving the angel a physical body, in exchange for angel’s complete obedience, enslaving them in the process. Not many angels know, however, about an alternative solution. They, like ghosts, are capable of possessing a living body and can chose to become mortal. But in order to not have all the angels do that and thus freeing them from gods’ control, the gods have made sure to hunt down all of the angels who chose to possess living beings and destroyed them. Thus, the knowledge of possession was lost. Sword of Gods, Michael made sure to personally hunt down any renegade angels. By now, almost all of the angels in this realm were subjugated. Some gods, like primary goddess of love, Ulla, made it a hobby of collecting angels to add to her collection. A rather sickening hobby, treating her pawns as her personal property. Most were even forced to drink a potion that made them fall for her, a practice she forced upon her reluctant victims.
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Unlike the other two types of gods, primary and secondary, primordial gods were the gods that existed since the beginning. They were there when this realm was born, they witnessed the great creator create everything out of nothingness. With a large boom, this realm was born. The explosion, the chaos that created everything, or Great Creator as they called it, was the spark that lit the nothingness, creating this realm. Everything in this realm was created by Great Creator, except for the Primordial Deities. They were there before this reality was made, but they were simply unaware of their own existence, for within complete darkness they could not tell whether they existed or not. But after this reality, one of the many, was made, the primordial gods gained sentience, awareness of themselves. They were alive, they could finally confirm it.
There were three primordial gods. Primordial god of life, primordial god of time, and primordial god of death. Each carried his own burden; they were beings that symbolized the beginning, middle, and end. Back then, they enjoyed their existence and company.
However, with the advent of the primary gods, this all began to change. Unlike their predecessors, these gods were hungry for power and were extremely aggressive in asserting it. They murdered the Primary goddess of Life, Tiri, thus showing their ruthlessness and refusal to share power. The Primordial deity of Time, Yakit, chose to pass on his mantle to his disciple, now known as primary deity of time Chronos, and chose to live and die as a mortal. The only one left of the Primordial gods, was Olim, the god of death.
With more than hundred angels at his service as his Shinigami, Olim could have been mistaken as a power hungry god, but that actually was not the case. If anything, a lonely and sad god would be the best way to describe him. With the two beings he considered his equals gone, he was left alone in a world where everything seems to be averse to him. As a god of death, he could not create life, so a family was out of question. Still, he desired this more than anything, something he could call his own, those he could cherish and love; those who could liberate him from this lonely existence. That was the real reason for creating the Shinigami in the first place. Yet, unfortunately, they thought of him as their master, not their father, rightfully so, considering he imbued them with his essence, essentially making the angels become reborn as Shinigami. As much as he desired a family, this reality seems to have been made to make sure that he would forever be sad and alone.
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His Shinigami have duty to reap a certain amount of souls, each one is assigned to souls close to their area. Yet, one Shinigami by the name of Desolai seems to have missed her quota. Unlike the other gods, Olim was not too strict or cruel, yet he still wanted to find out why a diligent Shinigami was missing out on her duty. He knew all of the Shinigami personally, so he was aware that she was an exceptional perfectionist when it comes to duty.
‘Maybe she is having a hard time with sorting the souls…I might as well take a look.’ A gigantic mass of darkness in the shape of a humanoid thought to itself as it entered into the domain of the Shinigami Desolai. Each Shinigami had a personal domain, their home in a sense, a place they occupied alone, free from the outside world, a sanctuary of sorts for their lonely hearts.
As he landed on the ground, Olim felt the soft grass underneath his feet. ‘That’s’ strange. This grass wasn’t here before, a new way of decorating the earth? And is that a garden with fruits and vegetables? What exactly is that for?’ Shinigami don’t need to eat, and Olim haven’t heard of any of them actually being interested in food.
As he neared the Mansion that Desolai occupied, Olim felt a small tug on his back. When he turned around, he saw a child, of around ten years of age.
“Hello. Who are you?” the child innocently asked, with his large eyes staring directly into darkness in the shape of a humanoid.
‘What is a child doing in Shinigami’s domain? No, more importantly, why didn’t I sense him?’ Olim looked at the child and answered with the warmest voice he could muster in order to not scare the child. “My name is Olim; I am the primordial deity of death.”
“I see, what you are doing here, Mister Olim?” the child asked.
“I am here to see Desolai, the Shinigami who occupies this domain.”
“My mother is inside the house, but she is crying.” Child answered.
‘Mother? Is there his mother inside the house?’ Olim thought with confusion for a second. “Why is she crying?”
“It is because my father was taken. Ever since she came back without father with her, she has been crying like that.” The child sadly replied.
“I see, and then would you mind telling me your name and your father’s name?”
“My name is Kunjarik. My father’s name is Nur, Nur Finnerman.”
‘That does not ring a bell.’ Olim thought, he never heard of such a name. Maybe he would have more luck if he asked about the name of his mother. “Say, little one, what is the name of your mother?”
“It’s Desolai.” Kunjarik replied.
Olim now felt shocked to his core. ‘Impossible, this child claims his mother is Desolai? But how can that be?’
“Sir, how do you know my mother?”
“I am the one who created all the Shinigami, so naturally I know her as well.”
Kunjarik looked at Olim with a confused expression before saying his thoughts out loud.
“Mother and father created me, so they are my parents, and you created mother…Does that mean you are my grandfather?”
Now, Olim felt like someone hit him in the gut. This was impossible, but more closer he looked at the child the more he understood why he couldn’t sense him. His energy signature was identical to Olim’s. It was as though he was Olim’s descendant. No, he is Olim’s descendant. But for a god of death, to have a descendant, what exactly does this mean?
“I have a grandson?” Olim voiced his thoughts out loud. This was too much to take in at once. Needless to say, the god of death received the biggest shock in his entire existence.
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The Empty Hourglass
Aleister is a scion of the noble House Belmont. Or, at least he was before a civil war broke out in the Vallonian Empire. As a child, he witnessed the destruction of his clan and was forced to chase safety. His stints, as a prisoner of war combined with the trauma, stressed his already weak heart. Seven years later, he lives comfortably as an adopted child in the village of Stillside. However, reading palms and tarot cards to glimpse into his future can only get him so far. Now, it's time for him to take fate into his own hands with the only way he knows how. A demonic ritual. Western progression fantasy. Release Schedule: [Daily] [12 pm ET] [~2000 words] [participant in the Royal Road Writathon challenge]
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