“So, uh, you’re not dead.”
“Nope.”
“And you’re a divine being now.”
“Yep.”
“You do realize we acted on your will instantly, right?”
“Yep. Even though you ignored the two week waiting period.”
“And you’re not bothered?”
“Nope.”
Panos looked Aesop up and down, rife with confusion.
“Alright, what happened to you?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“No, not at all.”
Aesop tutted. “I died, while doing the right thing. And for that, the Lady saved me and deified me. I’m now your god.”
That statement made Panos blatantly nervous. Aesop’s tuts turned into a massive grin.
“I’m fucking with you. I’m not your god, but I AM your representative and spiritual leader now. At the same time, it’s my duty to get the Torr back in line with everyone else. Once I’m done with all the rebuilding I need to do.”
“So you… are replacing me?” Panos hesitantly asked. “You’re taking my place as the leader of the Torr.”
“No. I’m guiding you. You’ll be in charge of most of the normal shit, but I’ll be an unelected permanent advisor that stops you from doing stupid shit. And I’ll be pushing your stupid ass into being more charitable, because we are completely hoarding our wealth and it makes us look like cunts.”
Panos sighed, then leaned on his desk. “Well, you’re completely fucking right there. I heard the shit that went down with the Spast King, and I was fearing that you’d come along and do the same shit to me.
Aesop shrugged, then leaned on the desk as well. “We definitely have problems. But our problems are kinda fixable. And we actually do already have some form of democracy, even if it’s representative and a bit skewed and totally twisted and slightly corrupt.”
“Hah, just ‘slightly’?”
“Well, pretty corrupt. But we’ll get there. And the first step to getting there is to be more charitable. You see, I was charitable, I put my wealth to good use, and people like me. None of the other Twelve Anew completely hate me, and I’ve put my biases to one side and realized I don’t hate any of the other Twelve Anew either.”
“What are they like?” Panos asked.
“Eh. They’re fine. I always quite liked Elkay anyway, and Maresia is, weirdly, overly hot and charming. Kohra’s a cute kid, didn’t realize that he literally was a kid, since Spasts age weirdly. But if I can be friendly with those weirdos, then you can be friendly with everyone else. Can you do that?”
The Prime Minister thought to himself. “Can I be a little selfish and money-hungry?”
“Sure. Just be less selfish and money-hungry than you are now.”
“Huh…” Finally, Panos smiled. “I can do that.”
…
Dalosisaar was glad that he kept the shimmering golden aura around his body as he approached the Mages’ Citadel, the home of the highest ranking members of Thraki society. The Thraki were somewhat democratic as a species, what with electing leaders within each territory, to send to the Masses Circle to represent their lands. But the Masses Circle was guided and somewhat led by the Mages’ Circle, led by Archmage Vokulunaax and his four trusted underlings. All five of the Mages’ Circle were ancient, powerful Thraki with a mastery over the weather and the skies, capable of changing the winds and summoning storms and snow.
They were also rather cruel, secretive beings, guarding their secrets. And they were definitely not fans of what they called “lowland Thraki”, Thraki who lived on abandon worlds, outside of main Thrakian territories and who didn’t properly worship the Blessed Skies and the Great Dragon Above All, the Whenvern.
“We are being represented by an outsider…” Gihvmeviing could immediately be heard scowling as Dalosisaar landed on the central platform, directly in front of the Archmage’s throne. “A lowlander, an edgelander even.”
Dalosisaar ignored the scowls, bowed his head slightly and introduced himself.
“Mages’ Circle, hello. I am Dalosisaar, Time-Blessed Saviour, Chosen of the Thraki, the God of Air and Unity, as decreed by the Allmaker and the Whenvern.”
The Archmage snarled. “What a pompous series of titles.”
“Those were the ones given to me by the Great Whenvern Above. It would be improper of me to not use what the Blessed Time Dragon has provided.”
“And why were you chosen?” Rahkahriss, the youngest of the Mages’ Circle, asked. “We have many a powerful leader, but you are very much an unknown. As Gihvmeviing rather crudely said, you are a lowlander, someone who lived on the fringes of our territories.”
Dalosisaar took a deep breath. As he did so, the air swirled around him.
“The Blessed Whenvern was struck down. When all others fled the destruction His fall caused, I was there. I stayed put and offered my flames, until I could do so no more. I risked my life, I was willing to give it for the life of the Whenvern, until my very last breath. The Great Dragon rewarded me for my sacrifice. The Great Allmaker told me to come back here, to help the Thraki, but also make us more open. Us Thraki hide on the mountains of the universe, looking down at all others. As my duties as the God of Unity, I want to open my wings, our wings, to the rest of the universe. And, in doing so, the rest of the universe will embrace us back.”
“But… why would we want that? We are fine on our own.”
The other Mages all turned to Gihvmeviing.
“What? We do whatever we want. We have our own society that looks after itself. We get rich on the gems we sell to everyone else, and the handful of us who wish to wander out end up wandering back. We do not fit in, and the universe ignores us.”
“Yes, true, but others ignore us because we don’t interact!” Rahkahriis argued. “We are the creepy uncle at a family gathering. We are fine with that, but we could be better.”
“And I want us to be better. In fact, it is not just me, but our Blessed Whenvern Above who wants us to be more open as well!” Dalosisaar smiled. “But let me put this another way. The Thraki are in a very, very strong position right now. My new duty isn’t just to unite the masses, but I am to unite the Twelve Anew as well. It is I who keeps us together. I have leverage. I have the ear of our Great Dragon.”
“You… do?” Vokulunaax leaned in.
“Yes.”
“And we could… speak to him? In person?”
“Via me, via enacting His will, yes.”
The Mages’ Circle all gasped.
“Well…” Vokulunaax stuttered. “I… I guess we have no choice but to listen and accept you now…”
…
Litvir didn’t want to admit it, but they felt scared. Right now, they were standing in the Grand Hall of the Retha, amidst all the repair works. Despite the Kentron, the main governmental building of the Rethavok, being damaged when the Corruption struck, the High General had insisted on keeping as much going on in the Kentron as possible, even while the repairs were being done. But Litvir had made the mistake of choosing to introduce themselves just before a meeting between the High General and their Below Twenty Generals. Well, some of them. There were quite a few who were still recovering in hospital, but the important Generals were mostly here. And Litvir was genuinely unnerved at how they were being inspected by them right now.
“What is your name, child?” the High General finally spoke.
Litvir bowed deeply, showing their utmost respect. “My name is Litvir Kalophos, of Bloodlines Combined, Deity of Light and Protection.” They had intentionally left out one of their titles. Litvir was well aware that they hadn’t really been chosen, they’d been made.
The name didn’t raise any suspicion to most of the Rethan Generals present, but one of them, General Ritlir of the 10th Legion, seemed concerned.
“Are you related to the recently passed hero General Kuta Tieridos?” Ritlir asked.
“I… have had a few vok say that to me, but no, I do not know who General Kuta is.”
“You look suspiciously like a tall, gangly, teenage version of Kuta.”
“Well…” Litvir hesitated. “Are… are white-plated Rethans particularly rare?”
“Outside of the Bloodline Traditions, somewhat…” General Kaldoran, the General of Medicinal Affairs, frowned. “And by one of your titles, “of Bloodlines Combined”, that suggests that you are of one of the old Bloodlines, perhaps the Trehavon? They do have white armour. But the reason why we ask is because you have visible fangs. Ones with tiny holes in the ends, similar to Temthans, which means you potentially also produce a venom. The only known venom-producing Rethan was General Kuta, who sacrificed themselves so many of the vok in this room could live. Considering the vok who make up the rest of the Twelve Anew, our query is valid.”
Litvir sighed. “It… is a valid query. I will be honest… Both Aster and Elkay said I should be as honest as possible… I am… Uh… I do not know how to put this…”
“Are you an unregistered Rethan?” General Hasvik suggested. “Because getting you registered is not a problem. Mistakes happen, and we try to catch those who fall through the cracks.”
“I… technically am not, because I am not old enough. I was… made in a lab. In the lab of the Allbirther. I was her last experiment, before she went into exile. The Whenvern and the Panelix finished the experiment and produced me, because they could not decide on a Rethan to deify, and those they wished to deify were better off as they were, or disappeared completely before they could be saved.”
“Perhaps there is some Tieridos DNA in you?” Ritlir suggested. “Pretty sure the Allbirther was infatuated with Kuta.”
“Kuta was not of a bloodline tradition though…” Vekser, the Keeper of the Great Library, grunted. “And they tried very hard to make sure no one could use their genetics.”
“Hah… up until they started having considering kids with Retvik…” Ritlir muttered.
The High General glared at Ritlir, and Ritlir quickly apologized and shut their mouth. After a moment of thought, the High General got up from their throne and approached Litvir.
“So, youngling, you are suggesting that you are a combination of all five Bloodline Traditions?”
“That… is what I have been told, High General…”
“You are aware that I am of a Bloodline Tradition, yes?”
Litvir nodded. “Yes, Kyr Rethais. But… I do not want to usurp anyone or anything like that. I am literally only here to help. You will not see much of me anyway, as it is my duty to guard the edges of the universe. At the same time though, unlike the other Twelve Anew, I am here as a resource to be used, not as, like, a leader or something. Also… I… I will be blunt, I am genuinely scared of you.”
Rethais frowned. “You have nothing to be afraid of. We are just curious, that is all. That being said, we do need to get you registered, to make you one of us. How old are you?”
“Um… About a week old? There is… time messing around at play though.”
“Physically, you look like you are about 15 years old?” Kaldoran suggested. “But we cannot really put you in the 900th Legion since you are, well, divine.”
“Not a problem. For now, little Litvir, we will put you in the 11th Legion, the Legion of Deitic Affairs. Bottom rank soldier, with the option to move up later on!” Rethais explained. “The 11th Legion is currently a bit of a mess right now until the Master of Generals promotes someone there, but since you are a divine being, the 11th Legion will do for now. In the mean time, we need to work on fixing ourselves up, and that is not really something you can assist with.”
“I understand, High General…” Litvir felt somewhat better now. “I have work as well. The universe’s borders will not patrol themselves.”
“Very well. Do you have any way for us to contact you?”
“Um…” More hesitation. But less fear. “No, not yet. But if you send a message to Kohra, he will pass it on to me.”
The High General smiled. Litvir liked that, so they smiled back. “Wonderful. Now, please excuse us, we have work.”
Litvir bowed. “Thank you, Kyr Rethais. I hope to see you soon.”