This story had been whispered from one another brought by the few that had been fated to witness such an event, and been extremely lucky to not have been a part of it. Many who first heard it, thought it would have been about someone. As they listened on, they came to realize that this story was not about one single person, but an entire city. A city of rich potential with advanced architecture, sciences, and above all, famous for the largest Great Temple placed upon the highest hill nearby.

One could only wonder what had befallen it. No trace of such a sight exists, even the speculated site where one would expect to find ruins was nothing but thick forest inhabited by dangerous creatures. No document kept a record of it and the only reasoning behind such a disappearance would be that the gods decreed it.

The story began with a priestess, one of three that occupied the grand temple along with twenty helpers. Late in the night, she had run to the only place she felt safe. Agous’s altar room. There she met with the other two priestesses and their helpers.

Lighting the candles, they all squished together to bow their heads low and pray that their call is answered. Eyes stared at them from all directions and when they peeked their eyes open, a new marble floor sat beneath them, one with glittering gold.

Power bled from the supernatural beings that surrounded them, some feeling more hostile than others.

A silent command seemed to ring out into the room as more and more beings suddenly left, leaving only a few to remain. But those few, any priestess would know their presence, the original gods who came together to create a refuge from the war and who had been gracious enough to allow the humans to enter.

“Stand.” Agous’s voice didn’t feel threatening. No anger, no disgust, no nothing. Just a simple flat tone.

As they did, they took note of those in the room.

Agous, the king god and god of water, sat on his throne. Fliana, the queen goddess, and goddess of pure, uncontrollable energy and power, who stood just beside him, a hand on his shoulder.

Ugaras, the god of the sun, and his wife, Saphite, the goddess of the wind, sat just to the right of them. Next to them sat Ashtenite, the god and keeper of souls and Tatisic, the god of fate and time.

One priestess peeked to the left, noticing Amist, the goddess of love, standing in confusion next to a flustered Haven, the goddess of nature and agriculture, like they had just quickly arrived. Egenitez, the god of the earth, sat next to them, his deep, muddy, brown hair falling in his eyes.

They kept their gaze lowered to the floor, trembling as they were judged.

“You’re pregnant?” Amist was the first to speak, ringing a gasp from the group as they took notice. The priestess snapped her head up in fear and quickly lowered it, not answering.

“Oh no… what have we done?” Saphite covered her mouth at her husband’s words, a sick feeling coming over her.

“No,” Egenitez corrected him, “what have we let happen?”

Each and every one of them turned to look at Agous. They were ready to wage war, ready to let the wrath of the heavens befall every last citizen.

“Tell us, what happened to you. Your words are your testimony here. Do not let them be the cause of mass destruction and death upon people who have never harmed you.” Ashtenite stood, stepping down one step, as he spoke.

One priestess stepped forward, ushering the others to sit. Her pregnancy barely showed through her loose fitting garb.

“The chief of our city is a clever man with no good intentions. He designed the temple guard, the ones who had pledged to guard us, to turn their cheek when he so demanded it. He abused us, used us, and allowed others to do the same. The guards, when allowed, would join or watch. The people would mock when they believed we weren’t listening, whispering among themselves. Not taking any order you’ve decreed to heart.” She choked and one woman behind her attempted to stand, ready to finish it for her if she needed it, but she merely waved her back down and continued, “I am pregnant. I have no idea who the father is, but I have seen what happens when one us gets pregnant. They’ll rip the child from our womb and burn it, casting it as a demon. No one survives the ordeal. We’ve lost three helpers in the past month. Please help us.” With tears splashing the marble below, she bowed her head humbly.

Agous came down from his throne, practically flying to land before her. Startled, she took a step back, panting as a wave of anxiety and fear raced down her back. He reached for her, hesitantly cupping her chin and forcing her to look up. The others were ushered to stand, being looked over as the gods came down to check on them.

“There is no one you would spare?”

“I don’t truly believe even a child is innocent anymore in that town.” Haven sucked a sharp breath in, horror coating her features as she turned to a gaping Amist beside her.

“Amist, please escort them somewhere safe where they can relax and be tended to.” As soon as she left, Agous turned to Haven. He didn’t speak but gestured his head to the large doors. She left immediately.

Ashtenite caught his eye, deep sorrow in them for what was about to happen, but Agous could feel it like everyone else. Deep inside the god was deadly anger, a bitter need for revenge, inherited by his mother, Agous assumed.

They returned to their seats, Fliana sitting on the steps, refusing to move as they waited.

Any merchant there in the market, just passing through and blissfully unaware of the past horrors, would testify that that day, something strange passed over the city. Every child wanted to take a nap. Babies who had been happily gurgling curled up in their mother’s arms, fast asleep. Anyone below the age of a soldier’s work felt suddenly tired and headed for a quick nap.

By the time the sun rose, they never awoke and any attempt to do so failed. Healers were called upon and when they couldn’t solve it, they turned to the priestesses, only to realize they were nowhere to be found.

Some took it as a bad omen and left the city. Merchants were quick to pack their things and leave, afraid of an oncoming plague. But, for those few who chose to stay, were witness to the horrors, unlike anything they had ever seen.

When Haven returned, her two children in tow, the children had been safely escorted into the afterlife, confirmed by Ashtenite.

Every animal and every plant turned against its owner. Vines grew thick and sturdy around buildings, strong enough to tear them down and farm animals ran amuck, ruining the city’s food supply and disappearing into the woods. No woman could conceive and those pregnant miscarried.

The first month, the month in praise of Ugaras for allowing their plants to grow had been a downward spiral of catastrophe. Chaos ensued shortly after. The people had begun to starve and the threat of wild animals was out of control. By the end of the last week of the month, the temple guards had their throats slit and hung from the temple columns for all to see. The work of Fliana.

In the next month, the sun disappeared entirely behind an assortment of clouds, but no rain came. Instead, a drought came, no water could rise from any well in the entire city. It was soon after this that people began to randomly combust into flames, setting everything and everyone around them on fire as they attempted to put it out.

Those who had fled earlier were also reported to have combusted into flames. No amount of water would put them out.

One man, a local merchant to a very small town, had noticed a man racing through town, storm clouds chasing after him and when the shadow did finally catch up to him, he burst into a flame of the like which no one had ever seen before.

This was the work of Ugaras.

Agous sent the floods. For a landlocked city under a severe drought, no one could come up with a better solution than Agous had sent the flood. The forest had thickened, making it nearly impossible to leave except for one last merchant, a man who had lived far from the city and only stayed because his son had been extremely ill. He left everything behind and carried his son to the forest in hopes they could escape. They did so so easily it made it seem like everyone else had exaggerated their hardships.

From a hill, they took a quick break and became witnesses to the raging waters suddenly fill the city area like a bowl, the trees containing the chaos. By nightfall, Saphite had sent in a cold wind, freezing the waters and should any have survived the flood, they would be trapped beneath the ice.

When that merchant and his son reached the next town, they told of what they saw. The priestess there nodded along, not for one second doubting them. Just a few hours before their arrival, at dawn, each and every priestess had been woken and Tatisic had quietly told them of something new.

Priestesses would have powers like no other and to remember that should anyone dare touch a priestess without explicit permission, that they should remember what the gods did at Zallato. They would be avenged, but above all, hopefully, protected with their new found powers.

When people returned to the site rumored to be the fallen city, only a forest stood. It is believed that Egenitez had sucked the remains deep underground and to a fiery pit of lava below and Ashtenite insured that their souls had been damned to that hell. Forever to be burned and then drowned before being burned alive once more.

The gods turned away, equally ashamed and proud of what they had done.

The priestess bore a son whose name is forever unknown, though many have guessed. It is said he was raised among them, the old priestesses and their helpers becoming handmaidens to the goddesses and finding a home among them.

The demigods, mainly soldiers who helped lead the armies against invaders, common at the time, were said to have trained him and when he reached adulthood, had been the first to offer a council.

This council remains today, fitted with the son of the priestess as its executive leader and demigods, specifically designed to seek out young boys to train among the gods, whose loyalty would remain with no one but them and the priestesses they would train to protect.

They were sent out, spread equally across the land, and formed the priest guard, an elite force that could rival any legion five to one. While only women, an early attempt by Fliana and many other goddesses to ensure women were respected and protected, could be chosen as priestesses and priestess helpers, the priest guards were in turn only men. Their social status is second to the priestess they guarded but still higher than any king.

But you’ve read the above story, the one with Sabele, the youngest priestess to have ever lived. Why didn’t she have a guard?

Well, I guess if she did, then she wouldn’t have needed Evåinic. The question still lingers. The older priestess must have had a guard at some point? The old man only mentioned briefly in the beginning? The priest guard are still mortal after all, but I thought he might have been her lover… Both?

Strange, the gods never thought to send one. Was this some kind of lesson? The story has spread by now, reaching the several kingdoms who pledged themselves as devoted followers and even beyond them. If so, what did they mean by it? Was this what Tatisic had seen when he consulted the woven thread of Fate?

Perhaps the problem lies not in that she did not have a guard, but that the guard was missing. Did the gods not trust to send another who’d finish their training soon? Maybe because of the prophecy, they didn’t trust many and perhaps Zack, someone trusted, had meant to be a guard of sorts but they killed him just after a year...

I guess no mortal man could protect Sabele and succeed for very long… Maybe that’s why they needed Evåinic. But… he offered quite a few years before to guard her and they refused…

Maybe they were right all along, that they shouldn’t directly help her until it couldn’t be avoided and then, send someone a bit harder to kill.