Ash stared into the deity’s striking green eyes in awe, mouth agape. 

She felt immensely peaceful. The goddess’s hands were neither warm nor cold and she was wrapped in a refreshing floral scent. The foreigner knew she was in the presence of a most exceptional creature. 

Just for this, I’m glad I still live, she thought. 

Teshbi let go of her hands after seconds which felt like a sweet eternity. She turned around and returned to the stage to face the crowd, surrounded by her nymphs and priestesses. 

“Many moons ago, during a feast where too much wine was served, my father, Asman, the god of the sky, got dragged into a bet by my cousin Hamun, the god of discord. Hamun declared that he was more competent than my father to rule the skies.”

A gust of wind blew, making the flames in the braziers flicker.

“My father lent his divine star globe to Hamun for seven days and entrusted him with the control of the skies. It was… a catastrophic decision.” Teshbi’s eyes glistened. “Hamun unleashed the worst calamities on the land, resulting in the death of hundreds of thousands of Kengirians.” 

The crowd stood in stony silence. A boy shuddered as his father pulled him closer. 

She continued, “Over that dreadful week, I visited my cousin three times, begging him to have mercy for the living. Unfortunately, this angered him even more. He vowed to ruin harmony and peace for the next generations.”

Several people in the audience quietly shook their heads.

“Hamun descended to Kengir in disguise and rallied a group of men. He filled their cups with overflowing ale and corrupted their minds with lies, pitting them against their sovereigns, the deities, and the nymphs.”

The nymphs in the background were staring down with a disheartened look on their faces. 

She went on, “These men, who would later call themselves the Founding Negaters, decided to lead a revolution and overthrew the monarchs. Melancholia was founded in the aftermath of this Upheaval. This day marked the end of the Golden Age and the beginning of the current era. We called it the Great Divide as, for the first time, Kengir was no longer one.”

Teshbi made a dramatic pause and looked at Ash. 

The human was sitting on the edge of her seat. She had heard the story from the old servant in the library, but it was much more powerful to hear it directly from a goddess who had played an active role in it. 

“Melancholians rejected their faith, the gods, and magic altogether. Over the next few years, they would slaughter anyone who would think differently. This inexorably led to the First Melancholian War. The Melancholian army persecuted and chased anyone who refused to abide by the rules of their new nation. ”

A child wailed in the distance, soon followed by another one. 

“With the help of my brave companions,”—she looked back at her nymphs with gratitude and emphatically gestured at them—“we assisted the survivors and guided them to the peninsula where we now stand. The Day of Hope celebrates the foundation of Joyia. And for more than two hundred years, both nations coexisted side by side in relative peace.” 

The crowd held its breath, bracing for what was coming. 

“But this delicate equilibrium was not to last.” Teshbi took a deep breath and closed her eyes, before resuming, “Sixteen years ago, Tardar, then Prince of Melancholia, took up arms and marched on Joyia with twenty-thousand men, in the name of his father, King Zeygar. And thus started the Second Melancholian War.”

The attendees were staring at the deity. The atmosphere grew tense. 

“In Joyia, Queen Gidri and King Abgal raised an army of ten thousand brave women and men and prepared for the battle. The gifted General Skarlag led the army.” Many people nodded in approval at the mention of that name. “They fought valiantly but they were gravely outnumbered.”

Elnys put her hand on her mother’s. Gidri looked back at her daughter with saddened tenderness. 

“When all hope seemed lost, two of my nymphs, Beltis and Nessia, came to the rescue of the Joyian army.” 

Ash looked over at Nessia at the mention of her name, surprised to learn that she was a war veteran. 

“This destabilized the enemy troops but it was not enough…” She spoke the next words slowly. “Tardar threw his spear at King Abgal, killing him almost instantaneously.”

The queen stiffened in her chair. She squeezed Elnys’s hand and clenched her other fist. Some of the attendees were in tears at the mention of their late king’s death. 

“Tardar was about to kill Queen Gidri too when Beltis interfered. She valorously sacrificed herself to save the queen.”

Nessia was staring off into the distance with a clenched jaw. Her bottom eyelid twitched slightly. The two other nymphs flanking her gently placed their hands on her back. 

“I flew down to Kengir with the rest of my nymphs and together, we managed to repel the Melancholian army before Joyia was annihilated. Since then, we reinforced the magical defenses around the peninsula and managed to keep the enemy at bay. But this will not hold for long.” 

A heavy mournful silence fell on them. 

Ash looked around before raising her hand slowly. Teshbi nodded, inviting her to speak. 

“I might be hitting a sensitive nerve here but, why didn’t you intervene sooner? With your power, you could’ve put an end to the war before it even started.”

“We have a strict rule among Kisharis. We deities have to remain officially impartial in human affairs, otherwise, the balance of our world would be endangered. The Upheaval is a good example of why the gods should not get involved in human endeavors,” she explained. 

“But you helped Joyia eventually. You fought in the war.”

“Repelling the Melancholian army was already grave trespassing on my end. My divine rulers will not tolerate further interference. This is why you were chosen, Ash.”

The human narrowed her eyes. “Are you telling me that two gods who got really drunk decided to have a dick contest that escalated into a cross-world conflict, and now I have to clean after them?”  

They heard scoffs and chortles ripple through the crowd. The hooded woman suppressed a nervous laugh. This unexpectedly lightened up the mood. 

“It is… a way to frame it,” Teshbi conceded. 

“And, why me?”

The deity gazed at Ash for a long moment with an impenetrable expression. She finally spoke again, her slow cryptic voice almost a whisper. “Because it is so.”