“So, we’re all going to die?” Ryan stated nervously.

The six of them sat in the shade, relaxing within chairs and sipping wine they would never get drunk from.

“We’re already dead Ryan,” Foy said. “How many times do I have to tell you this?”

The Verm pointed at himself, “I’ve been dead, I know what death is, and I feel very much alive.”

Foy rolled her eyes. “Mortally dead then, better?”

“Yes,” Ryan said, pouring himself more wine from a pitcher that continually refilled itself.

“Us six we be fine.” Malan said, sipping at his own drink. “Even with the death of all our followers the Cores will maintain us. All the other gods though.” He left the rest hanging in the air. Ryan relaxed into his seat, nursing his cup with both hands. “So we win?” He asked, getting the others to share in the thought before looking his way.

Malan motioned with his hand in agreement. “Technically yes, we’ve won. In the sense we will be all that’s left, if survival is all that matters to you.” It wasn’t for him, he wanted his follower to survive as well. “Also let’s not forget the important detail that the realm will be dead to.” Without the Sun all life will come to close, and they will be the inheritors of frozen waste. Plus monsters now that he thought about it. ‘What happens to them, once their work is done?’ In fact, what happened to the dead? Would the realm not only be a frozen tomb, but a haunted one as well?

He shared the thoughts with his fellow gods, causing a silence to dwell on them. One only filled with the movement of stone cups and the sipping of spirits.

“This god you spoke of.” Bronduff commented next to him. “Madness, will it hold the answers we seek?”

“I would very much wish to meet this god.” Derrin added in quickly, tail wagging. “The history it must know,” he said, eyes wide with thought. “The things it has seen, if it’s as old as you say it is.”

“Madness is,” Malan said, looking up as the crisp sky. “It’s been around longer than me, and the knowledge it shares is ancient. I’m sure it will have many of the answers, but not all. It already mentioned this curse taking the land is new.”

Rimean downed his drink in one swing and asked: “Are we not getting ahead of ourselves?” He reached for the pitcher, pouring himself another glass. “We don’t know if the end is actually here. The Sun hasn’t reached its zenith yet.”

“Which doesn’t matter my sweet little drunk.” Foy responded, placing her own cup near him to be refilled. “Be it now or later, this Madness claims the end comes.” Foy looked at Malan and twitched her ears in that well known gesture asking whether it’s true or not.

He nodded his head. “Madness has never been wrong when it comes to the working of the realm, if it says there’s an end to come, then there is.”

Ryan sighed; all tension gone from him now that he felt confident they were safe from the danger. “Well, if that’s the case, what’s the point of fighting. We can just wait, amass our power and strike when it matters. let the heretics waste their time conquering a realm.” Some of the others nodded their heads.

“We save who we can,” Derrin added, eyes wandering about the meadow. “Have them dwell here when death takes them.” The rest followed his gaze. “With how you are Malan, and Rimean, perhaps the dead could be revived once the end has run its course.”

“I’m not against the idea.” Malan replied, looking into his cup. “But I don’t know the full situation, Madness and I stopped our conversation mid-way due to interfere. I need to meet it again, find out all the details.” Looking up, savoring the meadow of flowers, he added: “And this Afterlife is not as safe as you all might believe it is. It can in fact be invaded.”

They all glanced up, and Ryan tensed. “But you said this place is safe.”

He nodded. “And it is, no one can ease drop on our conversations. That and we will know instantly if an assault is taking place. I’m just warning you that hording all our followers here, is by no means a guarantee they will go unbothered.” Waving a hand, motioning they not worry he continued. “It’s rare, difficult, costly and the enemy would have to have something that would help them find it.” He sent them examples, most visions depicting an item from the Afterlife being gifted to a mortal.

“Well, we won’t be doing that then.” Foy replied with Ryan agreeing with a twitch of his whiskers.

Bronduff grunted out: “Costly isn’t a problem for Wargain given the size of his following, and even if it was.” The Kolune eyed the others, “Wargain wants Malan gone, and us once he finds out, I doubt he’ll let us lie low and wait for a chance to strike.”

Malan lightly nodded in agreement. “I will support those I can, my followers need the aid, the power. To many foes are seeking them. And to many converts to be left to die on their own.”

The whispers kept increasing, the desperate growing in number. They still called to him, begging he release the grip of a curse he doesn’t control.

Rimean clanked his cup on the table, hand reaching for the pitcher, only to be stopped by Bronduff. They shared a look and the Heon leaned back. “I can feel them,” he said eyeing the container. “All those seeking our path, Wargains home lands aren’t as secure as he might believe.”

Derrin chuckled, and rubbed a finger across the lip of his cup, eyes lolling about. “Can’t blame any of them. The gods nor followers. The infants remain lost, the pattern of growth disrupted.” He laughed; joy struck. “All that power at their disposal.” He gazed at Malan. “Yet that can’t break the curse, it must be vexing since that affront is being witnessed by the mortals under them.”

“They’ll spin a story,” Malan added to Derrin observation. “I’ll be the center of it, and you five once Wargain becomes aware of your existences.”

Bronduff leaned closer to him. “Wargain won’t hold back, he has to show control. His supremacy in his own lands can’t be questioned, doubly so now that he’s in the mists of a war.” Softer he added. “And might think you’re spent.”

Malan smiled at the latter words. “I’m hoping for that, but he’ll be cautious.” Wargain, not matter how much he hated the entity, wasn’t a fool. His rival will observe the shifting situation of his realm and plan accordingly, Find the best ways to weaken Malan, and remove what assets he had in place to cause trouble.

Malan shared his thoughts with the rest of his pantheon, causing Ryan to sigh. “I guess it was to alluring to think we could hold up and amass our strength.

“We will be,” Malan countered. “Just not for as long as any of us would have liked.”

“The mortals need us,” Rimean spoke, his gaze distant. “So many call for guidance,” he mumbled, ears and neck furs twitching. He was frustrated, the feeling carrying through their shared links. “But I can’t, I can manifest in front of them, I can’t act.” He hissed, catching them all off-guard.

“You alright dear?” Foy asked getting up and approaching him. Rimean sighed, his stare still distant, and shook his head. “No, I feel, off.” Foy walked behind him, began massaging his neck and ears. The sensation brought Rimeans attention back to the Afterlife. “forgive me.” He said bowing his head.

Malan shook his own, knowing from the actions what was wrong. “You’re going against your nature. Forcing yourself to stay here rather than traveling to those in need.” They shared a look, and without a second thought Malan sent tricks to help his fellow god. “They’re searching for someone to help them, even though they don’t call your name, it should be enough of an opening for you to whisper to them.”

And once a conversation started, offers shared it wouldn’t be long before a stronger link was made. And regardless of the limitation they all shared, that would be enough for Rimean to guide mortals on a path they sought.

Without a word Rimean closed his eyes, Malan sensed his awareness leave them as it broadened and flew away. As a result, Rimeans form dissolved, leaving Foy staring in bafflement as the Heon vanished before their eyes.

Malan sighed, sorry for what he’d done to his friend. Out of all of them, Rimean nature was the most stifled by the restrictions of the Core. He should be amongst the morals, a fleeting figure appearing to give aid and direction. Now he was stuck using only words, and slowly connecting to those seeking help.

“Can’t say I feel wrong.” Ryan stated as he gazed where Rimean had been. “But I have this itch,” he began combing his face. “An urge to, to, compel.” He rose from his seat, began pacing. “It thought it anxiety, you know, all the swift unplanned changes. But it’s getting worse.”

Malan looked at the Verm, his ruby eyes glowing brighter. “Focus on it,” he said, gaining Ryan attention. “Feel it out, sense what you know must be done.” Ryan closed his eyes, stilled himself as his brows furrowed in concentration. “Yes,” he said. “My people, my sect, they’re thinking of me, they need guidance, motivation.” Ryan opened his eyes wide, his arms spread out, head held high. “Inspiration.” He turned back to them. “I need to be with them, fill them with courage.” Ryan moved to do something, the act effortless, yet a force blocked him.

Malan sipped his drink then said: “You tried to manifest yourself in the material realm, didn’t you?”

Ryan lowered his hands, his fur ruffling with irritation.

“Whisper to them,” Malan offered. “You said they’re thinking of you, that will be more than enough.”

Ryan breathed out slowly, “That, that.” He seemed at a loss for words.

“I know,” Malan spoke, distracting his friend from acting against the rules again, the feeling only got worse with each repeated attempt. “Its counter to your will and nature, it’s not pleasant, but there’s nothing to do about it, save accept the rules we’re forced to follow.”

Ryan closed his eyes, form going still as he concentrated. Soon enough his awareness left, pulled to those calling him and his tangible body crumpled into nothingness.

Foy hummed, a full cup in her hand as she walked over to where Ryan had been. “Must be bad for him to leave so abruptly to.” She looked towards him, question in her shifting eyes. “This going to be a normal thing?”

He nodded and sipped from his honeyed wine, “It’s their nature, it will never leave them. In fact, it will get worse as followers define their roles even more.” It had been a battle of wills for him to ignore the pleas from his followers for three centuries, amassing power for one great work. Now that it was done, the need gone, his urges pressed against him with renewed vigor. It wouldn’t be long before he found himself following his calling, aiding those in need, whether it was wise or not.

“I’ll be joining them in my own way soon enough.” Malan admitted to the three remaining.

“What of our planning?” Bronduff asked.

“We help,” he started. “Learn the limits of your abilities, and their costs. For now, we have to spread the word of you five ascending. Let our followers rejoice in the knowledge they have gods at their backs.” A pantheon to aid them in their quest for freedom. “Once you all have a firm grasp on your natures, we can carve out a course to hamper and ultimately defeat Wargain.”

“I have been itching at the chance to test my knowledge.” Derrin said with a grin full of teeth. He gazed about the miniature realm, eyes seeing things they could not. “Its all clear, what to do.” Derrin said happily. “Where to pull and twist, which symbols work best.” Malan and Derrin shared a look. “It should be shared, the masses schooled in the ways of creation.”

That thinking, the sentiment, was what separated the Dargown from all the other races. The need to know, but also to share with each other. His people, the culture he’d been born and raised in worshiped the desire of understanding. The first to herald a land of mortals working miracles of wonder. It warmed Malan heart to see Derrin share, and represent that ideal.

“Perhaps you should train them?” Malan offered to his fellow kin. “Bring enlightenment to our followers so they can defend themselves and harass the heretics.”

The god of arcane gazed longingly at nothing, save his own thoughts. Derrin began to laugh unrestrained, his eyes and clothing weaved with sigils, shining bright.

“Yes!” he bolted up out of the chair, knocking it over. “The mass need enlightenment, and I, I hold so many of the answers.”

Malan sent to his enthused kin the knowledge he needed to travel quickly though the Glen, to be at the side of those he sought to train first. Derrin absorbed it all without thinking, much like Madness, it was an effortless act.

Without giving any formal farewells, the Dargown vanished from the meadow, his essence gone to wherever he deemed the most appropriate. The clicking of a tongue had Malan look to Foy, the small Heon glaring at the space Derrin had been a moment before. She flared his ears in a sign of disapproval. “One of these days I’m going to get him to understand manners.”

Malan laughed, surprising the two. “I offer you luck in that.” Derrin wasn’t all that odd for his kind, being passionate about their chosen subject was a common practice. Malan himself had been similar to Derrin, in his youth before he’d mastered his urges.

“I graciously accept,” Foy replied. “Celestials know I’m going to need it.” She took a large gulp of her drink before placing it on the table. “Well since everyone is off to do their own thing, maybe I should indulge as well.” She closed her eyes, awareness expanding. “I have some buns thinking about me,” She chuckled. “Poor dears, they’re worried about my welfare.” She opened her eyes and winked at him. “Wait till they hear I ascended and died at the same time.”

He smiled thinly. “Perhaps don’t add that latter part,” he said. “For their health.” Foy for all her antics and trade, was a sweet woman, and dearly loved by her kin.

Foy huffed playfully. “I’ve died before. They always got over it.” Malan hummed in agreeance but added: “After you were revived, you were amongst them again, right now you can’t do that.”

Not yet anyways, which reminded him of a piece of knowledge he needed to share. Though the links with his fellow gods he sent it, an understanding that with them being a pantheon, it came with a collected shrine pattern all of them could use. A public shrine to go along with their private ones. When the five godlings got the chance to form their own.

“Neat,” Foy replied as the information settled into her. “We’ll be able to hop about the realm.”

“None of you have made a shrine of your own yet.” Malan added. “So I doubt any of you are aware of your own mark. Don’t worry, once you find a place to your liking, simply think of forming one, and your natural instincts will do the rest.”

“Any place?” Bronduff asked, Foy by the twitch of her ears, a second from voicing the same question. “And I thought we couldn’t affect the material plane outside a shrine? Unless that’s the only exception.”

“You are able to place one shrine if you have none left, and anywhere you think fitting.” He answered, feeling their intention even before it was asked.

“Distance doesn’t matter?” The Kolune added. “I could place one on another continent if I wished?”

“Yes,” Malan said. “But don’t think it won’t have consequences, you might anger other gods, make new rivals.” This late in the rising of civilizations there was bound to be a group of powerful foes ready to crush new opposition.

“So?” Foy said. “With how you are, how we are, what does that matter? Building a powerbase away from Wargain, fighting weaker foes we could best. I mean, it seems the better idea to me.”

Bronduff gave her a lecturing look, and disapproving scowl.

“It’s alright Bronduff,” he said. “She not completely wrong.” In his youth he would have argued, spouted reasons why he couldn’t leave, how it was better for his overall plans to remain by Wargain side. But there really wasn’t. Not to say things couldn’t go wrong if he sought different lands to make his own. For there is. But that is not the reason.

“You will come to understand, that your nature has more control over you than you might think.” They looked at him, expecting more. “The simplest explanation is to say I’m compelled to stay in these lands, they are a part of me, there mine, and I must fight for them.”

His whole history was here, and like an anchor to a boat it kept him in place.

He could leave for a time, travel outward, but he was always obligated to return. If he had followers spread outward, settled in lands far from Wargain, the pull would have lessened. But he hadn’t had the inclination to. From his many attempts at befriending, and aiding other gods, he found such actions didn’t work. If the nature of the god, or gods was too diverse from his own, any lasting bond was impossible.

By default, gods viewed each other as rivals, only those lucky ones, with a religion birthing mingled gods, was that outlook changed. Such as Wargain and his wife Lisoe. And himself back when his father was around, nurturing a young pantheon that was to be born from his sired children.

“I’m not sure how much luck any of you will have with the attempt.” He added. “Even freshly raised, you already had hooks holding you here.” He didn’t have to mention their secs as the cause, they already knew it. Given how they could feel and hear the thoughts of those thinking of them.

Foy sighed: “I guess that explains why I never heard of wandering gods, or foreign ones from another continent.” She gave him a look. “Is that why Wargain is sending waves of followers outward, rather than just relying on his Ascendants to conquer and hold lands?”

“He’s a clever one.” Malan admitted, back in the day he hadn’t come to that realization. He’d thought it just Wargain nature, the need for blood to be spilled on the battlefield. And a tool to remove charismatic individuals away from centers of culture. Have them end up dying young or turned zealous in their attempts to survive the horrors of war. It was only later, when he tried to follow Wargain spread that he noticed the problem, and saw the real reason for Wargains actions.

“So you copied him?” Bronduff asked, and Malan laughed. “What choice did I have?” He replied. “I can’t be much of hindrance if I’m not able to attack him no matter where he goes.”

“So much for that plan.” Foy complained before posing herself. “Well, I’ll be off, I think I’m starting to get that itch Ryan talked about.” She scratched her ears. “The thoughts are getting louder.”

“Don’t hold yourself back,” Malan informed. “Your nature, the godhood, wants to be made whole, which means a following. Best you make contact with those closely aligned with you. I’ll said out a vision to our followers, let them know what’s coming.”

With a nod of her head, and wave of her hand, she disappeared. He wasted no time with his vision, through all the links connected to him, he sent images.

‘My great work has been done.’ He sent, followed with the sight of five champions ascended to godhood. ‘We have made a pantheon, merged our strengths together.’ He showed visions of the Afterlife, a place of glowing wonder. ‘And we have come to aid you all.’ He sent a wave of fondness and his excitement to them.

‘The time of waiting is over!’ He shouted within their minds. ‘I shall be at your side now, lending aid, bolstering miracles. My Shadows shall walk the realm once more.’

Though the links came Devotion, clamors of relief, and fellow excitement. Merriment flooded to him; his followers had waited so long for his return. ‘Ready yourselves,’ He commanded. ‘Soon it will be our time to rise as the dawning light of new age, and I will be there, my fellows, to guide the way.’

He left them with those words, maintaining only the needed amount of awareness to handle their prayers and the constant influx of new voices.

‘Things are moving along now.’ Everything falling into place for his resurgence.

“Is there everything specific you need from me?” Bronduff asked, breaking him from his thoughts, and the calming sight of the meadow.

“Yes,” he said after a moment pause and nursing his drink. “When you get your sec in order.” He looked at Bronduff. “I would like you to start hunting down the heretics swarming the wildlands, it will be good practice to see what boons you can provide.” In fact, it was the perfect test bed for all his new gods.

“My children will be thrilled to hear that.” Bronduff spoke, forcing down the last of his drink. Surprising for a Kolune, his executioner didn’t favor the taste of alcohol. And if it hadn’t been for the fact it was sweetened wine, probably wouldn’t have subjected himself to it at all.

Grunting, Bronduff added: “What will you be up to Malan?” he said, emphasizing his name as he struggled not to say lord.

“Mostly reconnaissance,” he answered leaning back into his seat. “And the continued effort of making shrines to keep Wargain busy. But when I have a decent amount of Devotion on hand.” Which wouldn’t be too long with thousands praying to him. “I’ll begin handing out power to Shadows, our fallen brothers have been waiting a long time to influence the realm.

It would also be the most upfront way of showing their enemies that he wasn’t going anywhere.

“I take it you will be watching the Sun as well?” Bronduff asked, rising from his seat.

“We all will,” Malan said, “The moment we know the truth I’ll make contact with Madness, there is much more we have to discuss.” He hadn’t forgotten about Madness last comment, the cheering on of those they wished to win.

“Yes Madness, ominous name,” Bronduff began. “When will we meet it?” Malan brows rose in surprise. “Meet?” He commented, and shook his head. “Madness, which isn’t its actual name, is an entity that avoids to much company. I doubt any of you will meet it.”

Bronduff nodded his head in understanding, then bowed. “Farwell,” he said before vanishing.

Malan didn’t follow his example, he remained, basked in the moment, enjoying the start of a new future. One he would be able to share with, joined together with fellow peers. All the wonder, and the grief.

Try as he might, surrounded by fixtures of shaped and natural beauty. He stared at the sky and thought of the Sun. The once beacon of life, now forever a harbinger of doom.

It gnawed at his nature. “If the Suns light is to leave,” he said, vowing to himself. “Then I shall be the new one that will linger and save all that can be.”