6 Months ago

  I saw glimpses into the past, flashes of my former self. Golden wings, warm smiles, wine, food. All interrupted by that horrible cold blade.

  “Father, news from Aeran.” Ash interrupted my thoughts. My daughter was one of the few things I still possessed. Her violet hair and eyes complemented her tan skin. She was more angry about Kranon’s coup than I was. Her mother Taika, goddess of death had even joined Kranon in striking me down from the divine halls. Sending me down to Terradine, into Chasmvale.

  Ash stretched her black wings, ruffling her feathers slightly in an attempt to get my attention. “Father?”

  “i will hear.”

  “Lunira believes she found the weapon.” when she said this, I perked up a little. That sword through my shoulder didnt kill me, I still remained immortal, but that horrible blade cut my godhood from me. Separating me from my divine essence, and sent me to Terradine, down from the heavens. I could still feel that searing pain.

  “We leave tomorrow.” I said, Ash nodded. For some reason, since my fall 6 months ago, neither I, nor Lunira, nor Ash had been attacked by Kranon’s followers. I figured it was because without my godhood, I was as good as dead. It was also possible Kranon did not know of Ash’s power, her blade.

  We had a quick breakfast, fresh chicken sliced onto bread. It was juicy and delicious. “Good?” I asked in Vayden.

  “Ready.” Ash replied, her tone was flat. As usual her light violet eyes were unreadable. I watched as they scanned her travel pack. The wind stirred her dark hair, but she didn't react to the chill. She rarely did. Her mind was always somewhere else, oblivious to the surrounding environment.

  “Okay.” I straighted my own pack, and jumped off the shelf of the chasm. Chasmvale had hundreds and hundreds of lush green shelves all around the chasm walls. The area’s between walls had to be several miles apart, the ledges themselves could be up to a mile from the walls. The chasm trees with their strange green leaves dangled over the edges. Birds flew about, as if in open sky.

  Ash and I soared through the air. Even though I was no longer a god, I still loved the rush that flight gave. The cold crisp morning air was biting to the skin, but to breathe it felt like a breath of new life.

  As we shot past the canopy around Chasmvale, the leaves changed from that unnatural green to the normal red orange of terradine. We’d pass over mostly small towns on our way to Aeran. Bigger locations tended to be along some of the major rivers from the ocean.

  I was horrified when Taika took Kranon’s side at my falling. I had loved her, married her and given her a child. We were one of few couples of gods to have kids. Ash inherited her tan skin tone, in contrast to my complexion.

  After 2 and a half hours, we stopped short of the Capitol city, Thalorn, and walked the rest of the way. As often as one flew in Terradine, everyone enjoyed casual strolls. The bark of the trees was a pleasant light green, silver veins running through the tree. The leaves above were more orange than in Chasmvale, but not yellow like in Ravennaar.

  We passed people of all cultures, except North Oryndal. Various types of dress, robes and sandals, dresses and heels, denim and boots, pants and a dress shirt. Couples sat in cafés and walked around the smooth stone streets. Children played under shop windows and on tabletops.

  A scarred bald man from Yakai was teaching his son how to catch a ball. An Oryndal lady in a sundress was walking hand in hand with a man from Isyk, wearing a suit.

  We passed the court, an open air small amphitheater, semicircle rows of benches ran around the seat of the judge and other members of each case. They sat today with a man in shackles at the defendant box. His wings were a stark white, almost as sunbleached stone. Brighter than my own wings. They reminded me of Zyafae’s own.

  We approached the stately library, where Lunira was more often then not. Climbing its marble slab stairs, past the quartz columns and into the open air door. Glass was becoming popular in newer buildings, but its sand was expensive to send inland, with its weight.

  “Brother!” Lunira said, her silver-blonde hair swaying as she ran up to me. She’d run down the stairs to each side of the entrance, from the upper floor of the library.

  “Lunira. Is good to see you,” I smiled.

  “Soulblades.” She responded bluntly.

  “What?”

  “Soul blades, what cast you out. Follow.” I looked at Ash in confusion but she shrugged. Lunira led Ash and me to a table, a large one at 15 feet long and 6 deep. Lunira had layed out dozens of documents, spanning several centuries by both the style, and the fading of the paper.

  “According to old texts, metals and souls of wielders, create soulblades.” Her accent was always stronger than mine, dropping words all over the floor.

  “Like my blade?” Ash asked, summoning what she called the godblade. Her violet eyes glowed brightly when wielding that blade. She twisted the silvery glowing blade in her hand.

  “Very similar, you see black color? Is different. Texts from Oryndal, the north. Not much work with.” Lunira said looking down. She looked back up smiling. “Will do what can.” Vayden was a short clipped language, much simpler than the tongues of those in the west

  She was not cast out as I was, she was probably the weakest of the pantheon, being goddess of Wisdom. Though she was the closest to me of my siblings.

  Ash and I left the library, down its marble steps and into the cobblestone street. Thalorn was a beautiful city, and capital of the Aeran Princedom. The main street was lined with shops, the smell of fresh pastries and bread filled the air on that fine day.

  Ash and I grabbed a fresh moon roll from the Ravenaar Bakery across town.

  “Lord Xyros. This is an honor.” Said the nice Ravena man, Fallenon. As most of that nation did, he had intricate tattoos on his left wrist and lower arm. His hair was cut short, a byproduct of the Ravena war for freedom. Around 60 years ago, Ravena was a part of the Vayden nation, but oppressed by the Verdana peoples. Their trade routes were severed by Verdana when the Ravena people refused the tariffs the Verdans used at the time.

  “Fallenon, no honor due. Two moon rolls”

  “You Vaydens and your moon rolls. Yes Xyros you count now. Former god and all.” He remarked. So many words. In only 60 years the cultures had changed and drifted so much. Ravena people had already developed western speach patterns.

  The layered buttery goodness just melted on the tongue. It was a flaky half moon of flavor. While it wasn't common in Ravennaar, the Ravena bakers were known to be some of the best in the world. Their moon roles and other delicacies were widely considered better than any Vayden attempt. The Vayden Nation tended to see everything to it’s west as exotic. This did not make much sense to me, seeing all the variety the princedoms themselves offered. In the Vayden princedoms, varieties of sweets and pastries were common, while breads tended to be salty and savory. Other locations offered a better mix.

  As we left, I grabbed a golden brown and salty twist to go.

  “Father. I search black market for texts for Lunira.” Determination filled Ash’s eyes.

  “Yes.” We went our separate ways, Ash gliding to the north, myself strolling east. The shops were decorated in paintings and carvings, some historical, either of heroes or the gods. Pillars were a common sight, some wooden structures sported intricately painted or carved pillars, others made of marble. Most buildings had simple awnings of cloth and burlap.

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  You can learn a lot from people, just by listening. War with Wynark to the North, a trade war with the Chryan princedom. People just talked, as if nobody was around to listen. The thing that grabbed my attention however was something said by a couple children playing in front of a tailor’s shop.

  They had drawn a grid on the ground, a square of 9 boxes, and took turns drawing a cross or a circle in each box. Multiple grids appeared filled, most often with X’s in a row, circled together.

  “I win again, I get sword.” The boy with the X’s said, gesturing to the other boy’s sword. They could not be older than 8.

  “No. Sooner sell to Goldwing Ravena Smugglers.”

  “They kill my uncle, they kill you too!” The first child exclamed.

  Smugglers from Ravennaar sounded very promising. I walked back through the streets back toward the library. The majority of people I passed were women, usually with their husbands off to war. A very somber tone was all around. I let myself into the library and headed up the stairs.

  Lunira’s table was still cluttered with manuscripts, however Lunira was not in sight. I’d intended to let her know my plans and sleuth out the Goldwings. I took a minute or so to admire the work Lunira had done. Her chaos was more organized, several pages of handwritten notes sat neatly apart from the desk.

  “Xyros! Help me?” Lunira called, she was carrying 8 or 10 books precariously in her arms. I jogged over and took half her stack. She had some workers bring in an additional table adjacent to the one she had already.

  “I heard children, spoke of Goldwing smugglers from Ravenaar.”

  “Goldwings terrorize Verdana, come across border at times. Not major concern, though known to work with Kranon.”

  “Golden wings?”

  “They feel grandeur, not gold wings but white normally. They claim to descend from line Zyafae.”

  “They claim Zyafae? Wind goddess?”

  “Not sure if true. Could be worth checking.”

  After an hour or so, Ash walked in.

  “Found old paper.” She announced, unrolling a scroll on a wheeled high top table. “Here, looks Vara,” she said, rolling the table over to us.

  As Lunira looked at it, her eyes grew wide, month slightly agape. “Ash, what cost?”

  “80 silver, cheap for age.”

  “Very. Not Vara. Tavor.” Lunira’s locks were shimmering in the light all around us. “Need Tavorial books.” She walked off to the rest of the library. Tavor was an ancient nation, predating even those in Vara. It was huge and had spanned most of the continent, but now the only reminder was the ruins that dotted every country. They had been a powerful nation of scholars and warriors, but were once reduced to rubble.

  It took several minutes, with Ash and I, putting the manuscripts and various papers into bins below the tabletop. Lunira knew the library much better than we did, so Ash and I split up to retrieve her. I took the left while Ash took the far right, scanning rows of books for Lunira. There had to be 40 of them, neatly decorated in carvings. Beautiful skylights were above us and windows on the far wall lit the entire library. I’d only passed a couple when I heard the crash of shattering glass.

  “Ah!” I heard a scream that was sharply muted. It had to be from somewhere in the middle, one of the skylights above had been shattered. I flew in a mad dash down the aisles, finding Lunira halfway down.

  “Moryth!” Ash stood in shock on the opposite side of the aisle.

  Moryth turned, back to a wall of books. He turned slightly towards Ash and smiled. He spoke in my native tongue, which I had lost access to. “Ash. Your Mother is well.”

  “Mother is a traitor, she joined Kranon. Now he comes for Lunira?” She summoned her white blade, causing her eyes to glow.

  “What is this?” He damanded. “What kind of blade is that?”

  “Godblade.”

  “There is nothing like the soulblades. My mother is a traitor. Lunira denies Kranon so she is to die.” Moryth held one arm around Lunira’s shoulders, the other hand held a blade, the same type that had sent me to Terradine. He held it to her neck, but I dashed to attack. He kicked be aside and drove the blade into Lunira’s back.

  “No!” I yelled, drawing another knife like the one I’d lost to Moryth’s kick. I lunged at him again. But he knocked me back and crushed my hand under his boot. “Useless former god,” He spat. Pain shot up my arm as he took the knife from my hand and stomped my forearm.

  Ash sprinted up, kicking the god of knowledge square in the back. His soul-blade disappeared from his hand as he tumbled over Lunira’s body. “What kind of god are you that you would kill your mother.”

  Moryth stood, his blue-black hair now ruffled. He smiled again. His skin was a slightly lighter color than Ash’s.

  “Never!” Ash exclaimed, jumping at Moryth again. He summoned his blade again in time to block her strike. Her blade disappeared as it slipped from her hand. She dropped low to avoid his counter, attempting to sweep his legs. He jumped and twisted to release the momentum still in his blade. Avoiding her sweep entirely.

  Ash cursed as she stood, Moryth now between us again. She met my eyes as she lept at Moryth again. I tripped the god of knowledge before he was able to get a strike on her. And Ash drove her blade into his skull.

  A huge feeling of pain overwhelmed me. The death of a god. Those blades never brought blood, just left a smoking wound. Lunira still lay on the floor, wound clear through her chest. “Xyros.” She croaked.

  A wave of relief fell over me, I dropped to my knees in front of her. Ash attempting to clean the wound. “Not much time, brother.”

  “Yes.”

  “Not write this down, came to head. Imperfect translation, but to make soulblade, you force soul into blade forged with blood.” She coughed, a horrible noise. She swatted Ash’s hands away and then took one. And one of mine.

  “Will not live,” she said in Vayden, before switching to the tongue of the gods, Terralin. “My godhood remains. I pass this to you both. My knowledge, my wisdom, and my godhood belongs to you.” As she said this, I felt a rush as cold as ice through my body. Colors seemed sharper, sounds more detailed, I felt alive. It was like a rush of adrenaline had been shot into my heart.

  Her body shuddered on the ground, shaking as she drew her last. “Kranon!” Ash shouted in despair.

  The new life I felt weighed heavy on me. My immortal sister had died. She passed herself on with me and Ash. A notepad she'd been holding before the attack lay at her side. It read, “Godhood passed into blade,” In the Vayden script.

  “What does this mean?” Ash asked in Terralin.

  “One must be partially god to create a soulblade. That is my only guess.” It felt very good to speak my native tongue once more. But this came with the horrible cost of my sister.

  Ash’s eyes were glowing angrily, “Those traitor gods will pay for this.”

  Lunira and Ash had been avoiding using this tongue, it was only possible to speak it as a god, which I had lost. It was wordier than Vayden, almost poetic. “They will pay. I need one of those blades.”

  “We must begin studying I suppose.” Ash sighed, and brought Lunira’s books to the table. I on the other hand prepared Lunira’s body for burial.

  “I will have my vengeance,” I wispered.