The words hanged in the air, and truth be told Foy found the question rather silly. Who didn’t? And why wouldn’t they?

To have the power to shape the realm, to end those who wished to cause harm, to bring about a place more aligned with ones needs.

Frankly anyone who said they didn’t was a liar of the worst sort. Those who deceived themselves. She isn’t such a person, she’s quite honest with herself, and those under her care. Did she want to be a god? Of course she did! But she was no fool. Perhaps in her earlier years she’d been one, but not now, not with centuries of experience.

If mortals could be ascended to such lofty heights, it would have been done by now. But she couldn’t recall any, except those children who were the mixing of mortal and divine blood to begin with.

She looked up to her fluffy lover. His mind elsewhere, spinning with all sorts of thoughts. She rubbed a hand across his leg moving it up to his groan. That got his attention, he looked down, confusion on his face.

“Ever heard of a mortal becoming a god?” She asked getting straight to the point. Their lord was awaiting an answer, it was best to be quick. Derrin did just that by shaking his head.

‘Well, if he doesn’t know, no one does.’ She thought to herself. Turning her attention back to their god she asked. “This is possible?” Saying the words out loud for everyone’s benefit.

She felt amusement come from the link.

‘It always has been.’ Malan answered. ‘And has been done many times. But the truth has always been buried, sometimes purposely, others by accident due to the nature of stories.’

Images played within her mind, and she had no doubt in the mind of the other four. She watched a warrior make a name for himself, amassing a following of loyalist. Time flowed passed, the number growing with the feats of the warrior as he became a hero, then a legend. They sang stories of him, echoing his achievement, proclaiming his divinity. Slowly those songs became prayers. Admiration became worship and the oldest loyalist become the first priests.

A religion was born and from all that worship came Devotion.

‘Most mortals exist for so short a time the chance of accumulating a belief around themselves never happens. It requires skill, luck and a certain character. But when it does happen, and they get a chance to garner followers. The Devotion slowly changes them.’

Foy watched the play her god worked. How the warrior grew in might and began to display signs of miracles. Be it strength or unnatural endurance. ‘Given enough time, and the following allowed to grow or stay stable. What was once a mortal becomes something more.’ Feats of wonder, turn to blatant displays of miracle work. Wounds healing instantly, or receiving no wound at all. That and the figure grew stronger and showed no signs of aging. Even as every else around him did.

‘Eventually people begin to forget the individual was mortal in first place, and by that point. Seeing the feats said forming god can perform, most wouldn’t believe it even if told.’ Malan added. ‘This land was once full of mortals that became gods, but most didn’t know it.’ Their god laughed. ‘Nor was said gods going to tell them, the very act would birth rivals.’

‘Yet our god just did.’ Foy thought, if they worked hard enough, cultivated a following. They too could transition into such an existence. ‘Or we once could have.’ She corrected. With Wargain supreme, his grip on the lands firm, any fledgling god would be snuffed out instantly.

“Is this why you had us disperse into multiple secs?” Bronduff asked, his head bowed in submission. “To form a following to ascend us?”

‘No,’ Malan answered softly. ‘That would have never worked in times such as these. I did so because it made our enemies work more difficult.’ A silence fell over them. ‘What I have in mind, is something that might not have been done before, and with good reason.’ She could feel reluctance in the link binding her to Malan.

‘No god aimed at ruling the realm would ever conceive of making rivals.’

She watched Bronduff hands ball into fist and his ears press flat. Their large Kolune took loyalty seriously, and it must shame him to think their god saw them as threats.

‘Yet he’s not wrong.’ If they were gods, able to shape the realm on a scale he could or Wargain, then there is always the chance.

‘It’s alright.’ Malan sent to them all, but it was focused on Bronduff the most. ‘I know the risk, and don’t care, Wargain must be stopped.’

“I fail to see how this will solve anything.” Rimean voiced in his calm unemotional tone. “Even as gods without Devotion powering us, we will be crushed in an instant.” Which raised some concern in Foy, something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Everyone knew what happened to mortals when they died, but not when it came to gods. ‘What will happen to us?’ She wondered to herself. ‘when we die as gods.’ It was subject none of them had ever discussed with Malan.

‘I will reveal all.’ Malan responded. ‘Once my question has been answered.’

“I wish to be a god.” Ryan said first, to the surprise of no one. He was the typical Verm who’d tasted power and prestige. He wanted to keep it and remain forever above the masses under him.

“I second that.” Derrin said by her side, his eyes wide with thoughtful wonder. “Just think darling.” he said to her. “Of the miracles I could perform as a god.” The childish glee on his face made her smile. It was one of things she loved about him. That innocence normally found in children.

“Well, if you’re going along with this, then so shall I.” Foy said aloud and in her mind. “Should make existence interesting for a while.”

“I wish only to aid in healing the people and these lands.” Rimean said after her, his attention focused upward. “If rising to your side as a god will see the deed done, then so be it.”

With that only one remained to voice his answer, instead she only heard silence. Everyone turned their gazes to Bronduff. He was troubled, eyes closed, jaw tense. His hands were still balled into fists, with the right one pressed against his chest plate.

‘There’s nothing to be ashamed of Bronduff.’ Malan sent to their minds; the thought laced with understanding. ‘It’s normal for you to be temped with conquest.’

Bronduff growled, his eyes opening. The look of a hunter ready to pounce. None of them moved. “I am your champion,” he said. ‘I vowed to serve you, to be loyal eternal.’ Anger burned within his words.

‘And you will,’ Malan said in that calming tone of his. ‘You will be at my side, and I at yours. All of us together bringing an age of wonder.’ The shame on Bronduff face shined as bright as the sun. ‘And after,’ Malan continued. ‘If you all seek to try new paths, then so be it.’

The statement shocked them into staring upward, a silly thing. It wasn’t as if Malan was watching from above.

‘Once this is done,’ their god said. ‘We will be together forever. It’s only natural for differences to occur, but we will have the time to work them out, to experiment.’

Confusion played across her mind, and from the glances at the others, she wasn’t the only one.

‘So Bronduff my loyal champion, put your shame aside, for I accept what may come. I know full well the temptation of power, the way it can bring out the worst in ourselves.’ Bronduff lowered his head. ‘It will be alright;’ Malan spoke softly. ‘In the end we will be able to resolve our differences.’

“Very well lord.” Bronduff voiced, hesitation in his words, even fear. “I accept your offer.”

A pleased feeling spilled into them from the link of their god, and anticipation.

‘Thank you, my champions.’ Malan voiced. ‘Together I know we will finally have the strength to bring Wargain tyranny to an end.’

“And how?” Rimean voiced for the second time. “Shall this be done.”

‘You will be no normal god’ Malan answered. ‘You five will be like me, eternal, unable to wither away to nothing. You will not need followers to maintain yourselves, nor cultivate power.’

“That cannot be.” She heard Derrin mumble. “It goes against every religion I’ve come across; the way wars are fought between gods.” None argued, for each of them understood, kill the followers, and you kill the god, eventually.

‘Not for me.’ Malan responded, unbothered by Derrin rebuke. ‘And not for you, but of course, as is the way of creation. There are drawbacks.’

Foy cheeks and whiskers twitched. “A downside from you god? And the hiding of details before we made an agreement?” It was the first time for her. Even after five hundred something years. Never once had Malan been dishonest in his dealings.

Their god sighed, sounding more disgruntled by the fact than her. ‘I had no choice; these are secrets none but me and one other entity know of. If Wargain truly understood that I can’t be removed, he would make it his missions to contain me. And exploit my weaknesses, which all of you will share in.’

“Such as?” She pressed, any skilled assassin knew, not understanding their own limitations was a swift way to end up dead.

‘You won’t truly understand the depths of the weaknesses currently, but you will in time.’ Malan started. ‘Firstly, the amount of Devotion received from prayers is halved.’

She furrowed her brows, while Derrin voiced a question. “So, every time we sent you Devotion half was lost?”

‘No,’ Malan echoed again. ‘Offerings are not affected.’

“You mean when we talk to you, Devotion is lost?” She asked in turn.

‘Yes. Every time you request something from me, or form a connection, a small amount of Devotion is taken from you and sent to me.’ Malan laughed bitterly. ‘I didn’t think much of it at first, it’s such a small amount. But once you have thousands, na millions praying to you. That is a crippling loss of power.’

“That is why you have use focus on sacrifices.” Ryan said with a start. “No penalty, and it removes followers from praying to Wargain.”

‘Correct.’ Malan spoke displeased.

Though he required it from them. Foy could tell their god had never happy with the sacrifices of blood and flesh.

“We’ll have to do the same thing, right?” Ryan continued. “Or we’ll be crippled.”

‘You will still amass a great deal of power from prayers.’ Malan corrected. ‘Just not at a rate of a normal god.’

‘Prayers requires followers,’ Foy thought, and where are they going to get such? She sent that question to Malan.

‘My followers will be yours; we will be a pantheon.’ Malan announced. ‘They will pray and worship to you as much as they do to me.’ That wasn’t a lot of followers to go around, thousands for six godlings. She didn’t hide her doubts from Malan.

‘I’m not saying it won’t be a slow start.’ Their lord admitted. ‘But you’re not taking into account the six of us will be producing our own power. Even alone, I have had the means to fight Wargain and maintain a following. With another five at my side, the war against our enemies will turn in our favor.’

“Then why not ascend more?” Derrin asked as he fiddled with his hands.

A feeling of disappointed carried through the link, Malan allowing them to understand how he felt. ‘I’d planned to do that, but with Wargain able to find my shrines, and my followers being hunted down. All in need of my support, I can’t wait any longer. You five will have to suffice. Perhaps in the future more can be uplifted. But for now, it will be up to us to carry the torch of knowledge.’

That got them to fall silent for a breath or two. Long enough for Malan to reveal another weakness. ‘While the penalty of prayers is staggering, it’s the second restriction that truly hinders me against the likes of normal gods. You all may have noticed it.’

There was only one thing that stood out to her, counter to the acts of other gods. Who in moments of struggle would manifest Avatars of great power none could stop say for the intervention of another divine. Malan didn’t, he restrained himself, even when he’d been active.

‘Know my soon to be gods, that like me. None of you will be able to perform miracles, affect the physical realm, or manifest into it outside the aura of your shine.’ She and her fellows were stunned, that really was crippling, but also not correct. She was just about to send questions when Malan continued. ‘However, this does not apply when acting through a follower.’ It clicked then. The way Malan operated, he always provided the power, and in truly desperate fights would assume control of the body.

‘We will be a pantheon that empowers our followers.’ Malan informed them. ‘Till we grow powerful enough to create, and maintain shrines of substantial size.’

Keen minded, Derrin, knower of countless volumes worth of miracles, asked: “You say physical, does that mean we’re not restricted in the Glen?”

‘That is correct.’ Malan said. ‘You will never have trouble dealing with the dead, or finding followers.’

Derrin smiled happily. “Not so restricting then. Still,” furrowing his brows. “What is enforcing these limitations?”

‘Isn’t that the question.’ Foy mused to herself. For no god would willingly follow such hindrances. Not when the realm was full of rivals.

“Not only that.” Rimean added in before their god could answer. “These weaknesses are old, there’re like penalties to a game.”

‘The game.’ Malan sent to them. ‘A competition between gods, that is what this realm is for, and what enforces these restrictions. No god, no matter how powerful, can fight them.’

They looked at each other, none of them quite believing, or maybe accepting what they’d been told. Bronduff voiced his bafflement first. “All of this a contest, amusement?”

Malan remained quiet for a time, but he shared is feeling of discomfort. When he spoke, it was his nurturing voice. ‘In the beginning I thought it a lie as well, the mad ravings from a mad god. But with the passage of time, the way godhood works. Yes champion, this realm is one of amusement.’

Foy thought about the concept, that all their struggles, wars, persecutions, surviving, all of it entertainment. And looking outward, maybe it was. A spectacle for the gods while they plotted and fought one another. Never really the ones in danger until the very end.

‘Unless.’

While her comrades dealt with the fact precedented to them, she sent another question. “What happens to gods when they die? We know they withers, disappear, but after?” Everyone was looking at her. “If this is a game, do they actually die?”

‘You are all very astute,’ Malan started. Which meant in a way she already got her answer. ‘I do not have firsthand experience, but I’m told from a god ancient by all standards. That the essence, or consciences behind the god. The thinking part, moves to take on a new role when their previous form has withered away.’

“You don’t know lord?” Ryan asked in a suspicious tone. “But you’re a god.”

‘I was not born a god; I was the son of one. So, an ascend mortal from the start.’ They listened carefully, Malan had never gone into detail about his beginnings, or his rise. Only his crusade to bring wonder. ‘When I died, I was still mortal, so I appeared within the Glen, almost as weak any other soul.’

Mortal, and died, those two words echoed in her mind. Yet here their god was, a legend, though most tales told of him weren’t flattering.

‘But I knew secrets.’ Malan added in a soft voice. ‘And slowly worked myself up to being a fully-fledged god. So I don’t know for sure what will happen if I end a second time. Nor will I ever, I’m beyond such a threat. Same for all of you once I’m done.’

For a breath Foy felt Malan awareness on them lessen. He was looking elsewhere, or in multiple places. ‘It best we get started now, Wargain just sent out another wave of declaration. He’ll have seen the location of my newly made shrines and will send forces out.’

“Do you require anything from us then?” Asked Bronduff.

‘To make a shrine’ Malan answered. ‘As this act is going to require all my attention.’ They all began to move, then stop as their lord sent more. ‘Also, to prepare for death.’

“What?’ Ryan voiced as he flinched back the way all Verm do when confronted with danger.

‘There will be no hiding this. The amount of power that I’m going to unleash will send ripples. There’s no telling how far it will go, but even mortals with some heightened senses will notice.’ They looked at each other, knowing then what their god meant. ‘They’ve been wanting for me to act, to unleash one last curse. One of the pantheon will responded with their full might. This area will likely become a ruin.’

“So what are we supposed to do when we’re dead?” She asked, and if everything goes well, effectively gods.

‘Think of me,’ Malan sent. ‘To be guided to my location, and to offer partnership in order to form a pantheon.’

“Simple enough,” Derrin muttered by her side, before chanting. Stone shifted, and the floor was made perfectly flat. Bronduff moved towards them, pulling the pieces of carved rock from his hidden pockets. They fitted together perfectly.

The rest of them added their supports, removing the pelts of the slain. Derrin voice grow louder as he forced the stone into forming glyphs representing Malan. Bronduff placed the carved artifact at the center, and kneeled in prayer. The rest of them followed his example, offer some portions of Devotion to activate the shrine.

The runes glowed to life, then radiated out enough power the chamber was bathed in the brightest of a sun. They all felt it, Devotion, a rising potency as more of it connected with the shrine. Her fur and skin itch, there was so much.

The light bloomed brighter, and in its center Malan manifested. A Dargown of deep sun kissed fur, garbed in cloths of gold embroiled with glowing runes. Where is eyes should be, blazed only more light. Yet she could feel his gaze on her, on all of them.

“Obey.” Malan said, not to them, but the stone. The chamber expanded outer; columns rising everywhere to meet the souring ceiling. Each neatly carved in the style their lord favored.

None of them moved as Malan raised his head, looking upward towards the heavens that only he could see. The power with the shrine tripled, and increase even more. There god wasn’t lying, he planned to use everything he’d collected in one act.

Foy saw her god smile. “It’s been too long since I’ve effected the realm in any meaningful way.” He said before the plane began to tremble.