8 large figures assembled in a large chamber; perhaps this space used to be a symbol of decadence and wealth, yet now –in the presence of these beings– there was simply ruin and death. Around them nimble wraiths of fire and shadows danced across the floor, ensuring no one had survived the falling stars that wrecked the former capital of Averon.

  Within the destruction and slight taste of dust, a single object remained unharmed, as if existing in a separate world. The nebulous figures approached the throne of gold and diamonds, not walking but almost bending the space around them, as if traveling through a separate dimension instead of the benign physical realm.

  "Well, wasn't this quite easy? Humans ... really. Ascend to godhood and already challenging our authority. Well, we don't need to worry about them anymore, do we?" One of the large shadows spoke in a gleeful tone.

  "Let's get a move on, staying in the mortal realm, especially this mortal realm, makes my skin tingle. You have achieved what you wanted, now let us head inside. Marlon do it." A deep voice spoke in an unbothered voice. Meanwhile another figure, slightly smaller than the rest approached the throne and started an archaic chant, his voice permeating the very fabric of space:

  "These Time Keepers, really do make this a lot easier. Breaking into the divine realm would have been a lot harder if you hadn't assisted." The gleeful voice spoke again.

  "Don't make this seem like I had a choice. What we are doing will have effects that far surpass the causality you are willing to endure, " said the smaller figure, Marlon. Nevertheless, as he finished his hand signs, the throne cracked and revealed a golden rift. The figures stepped through and were showered in a golden light. Everyone changed from their previous shapeless form, into now defined bodies. Everyone, even the small-stature Marlon, yet took a more relaxed breath.

  "Something seems off." A rather bulky figure, formed of what seemed like glistening rocks, spoke, his deep voice matching his large build. "The mana in this world ... it is turbulent. The foundation of this divine realm is shaking.

  "Damn it. Let's hurry, that damn human scum is doing something."

  Beyond the portal, in the backs of the deities, the world was slowly dissipating. Not a rate that could ever really threaten anyone, but slowly the clouds were dissipating and particles of light just started rising. The 8 beings just kept on walking through the land bathed in golden light. While strolling through the verdant gardens of what could only be the imperial palace, and entering the king's chamber, they saw a man, barely 30, with straw-blond hair and a chiseled face, sitting atop a throne similar to the one they had destroyed before.

  "Isidore, long time no see. How are you?" The gleeful voice spoke with ill-mannered condescension and unbridled arrogance. "Long time indeed, Sarion" replied the man on the throne. The elf-looking man, called Sarion, with long, deep, green hair tucked behind his point ears, and piercing green eyes, just stayed silent, his smirk slowly vanishing from his face, as his adversary on the throne showed no reaction to him.

  Without warning two figures dashed towards the sitting man, both holding their weapons against the king's neck. On one side a being with the legs of a goat, but a muscular upper body, with what looked like lava seemingly flowing through its veins and fire in its eyes. On the other, a cold being, slender and sharp, as if made of the darkest and coldest ice, each breath accentuated by mist escaping their mouth.

  "Give up Isidore, the war is over. We have eliminated all your Asura forces, and your continent lies in flames." The human-beast hybrid spoke in a strict, yet surprisingly smooth tone. The shrill voice of the ice-being, on the other hand, was less calm. "You have forsaken your people and sent the gods of this realm to their deaths. The deaths of all mortals in your domain is on your hands, not just now but also for the future, and now we, the kings of the 8 realms sentence you to death, and your remaining mortal folk to eternal servitude and war." As the frigid ice-being was about to swing its sword at Isidore's neck a, force stopped her from moving on.

  "Now, now Alina. Let us hear the final words of the First Sovereign." A cloaked figure, standing furthest back took off its hood. There was no face. No features, no emotions. It was a wraith of darkness, whose figure radiated dread to the very core. Even the other deities looked away, but not Isidore. His gleaming black eyes stared right at the wraith's "face", even as the shadowy being kept creeping closer and closer. Once it was inches away from the human's face, it seemed as if the world had stopped. Only Isadore and the wraith seemed alive.

  "Tell me where it is, Isidore. Don't let the sacrifice of your valiant soldiers have gone to waste. Where. Is. It." The voice, like the face, seemed devoid of everything; there seemed to be no origin, as it permeated from everywhere, no emotions, yet it evoked primal despair. Isidore just smirked at the wraith and stomped his foot undoing whatever void or space lock spell the wraith had cast. The space seemed to return to normal, and none of the other gods realized what had happened.

  "Deadulus, Marlon, Althena." Isidore nodded towards the burly stone-man, the short,hooded figure, and a being to the very left. An angelic being, who had a humanoid appearance except for her blinding, golden wings and eyes. Her face had two lines of gold running down from her eye to her chin and her complexion, even though fair and jade-like, seemed to radiate a hue of golden-yellow light. The three beings, who all stood at the back, returned a nod to the lonesome sovereign on his throne.

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  "I am sorry it had to come to this Isidore, but why? Why would you try and permanently separate all of our realms from the continents? The people of our continents need us, they need our guidance, our support." Spoke the being of light. "I refuse to believe a man of honor and valor like you would strive to rule the entire world by locking the rest of us into our domains" This time the giant stone man spoke.

  "Power is such a fickle toy. Those who possess it just never have enough of it. We always need more. Strive for higher realms, more power, more dominance. I guess the desire for power will make one do anything." Isidore replied in a calm voice. His eyes revealed his unyielding spirit. "Well then," the wraith spoke, "I guess it is time for your end, dear Isadore. It truly was fun seeing you humans rise and attain this level of strength, well call yourself Asuras or anything else, but in the end, everyone has a limit, and you have long reached yours."

  "Just a moment please." For the first time, Isidore spoke with pure seriousness. None of his previous tranquility to be seen. "You may have won this battle, and we humans may have fallen, but don't get it wrong, Averon will never stay in ruins. My people will see the light, and we will –" thwack.

  Isidore's head rolled off his shoulders and to the feet of the wraith. "He was stalling. Sarion?"

  "Yes my lord, I'm on it." The elf closed his eyes and stretched out his arms. A transparent green barrier started expanding outward. "There, two people. They are running and they are holding some kind of stone."

  "Damn it." The wraith started drifting towards the two people at blinding speed. "We can't let any Asura survive. We need to stop the seed of rebellion from sprouting, follow me." The 8 figures followed the wraith, but all of them gave the fallen king one final glance.

  "Rest well Isi, may you find peace." Whispered the Time Keeper, Marlon, as he passed by decapitated head of his former friend.

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  The Seer and warrior ran down a dimly lit tunnel. "Quick, they have found our trace, we need to hurry. We only need to run a little more before your father's spell is complete." The warrior, dressed in a leather breastplate, and carrying a sword embroidered with jewels on his back, grabbed the hand of the Seer and looked back. He saw 8 figures slowly gaining on them. "Please princess, we will soon have reached the exit."

  "It won't be enough." The soft voice of the Seer spoke. She stopped running, her white priestess dress still fluttering and her eyes of light, looking at the warrior. She took the stone tablet she was holding and gave it to the man. "You need to leave. I'll keep them occupied."

  "Never, that is my duty as your soldier. Please. I failed to protect your brother and the king, please don't let me fail you too." The warrior trembled his eyes slowly watering. His grip on the Stone table hardened and his knuckles whitened as his hands slightly trembled. "Please," he said in a cracking voice "Don't make me do this."

  "Run my knight, the future requires you. I can feel it. The final verse of the prophecy will appear on the tablet. Hide it well. I can't tell you what will happen, all I can say is that you must not let the failures of the past dictate your life; the strength you bring is not one of individual power, but one of nurtured unity. You, my knight, will lead the future of Averon."

  The Seer was now facing the incoming deities. The warrior couldn't leave her, but as she spoke those words with unyielding determination he ran towards another golden rift.

  "Ah, if it isn't my fellow gods. I am afraid I can't let you pass" The Seer spoke with playful innocence. "But as you have all gathered here, let me give you one final warning on behalf of my departed father, never step foot on this land again, for the moment you do, any deity will not only be stripped of their power, but stripped of their Essence. You might not believe me, but you see ancient magic that requires the sacrifice of a god can yield truly amazing boons, so I recommend you all promptly leave back to your realms, for if you stay here or on the continent only death waits."

  Deadulus, looked up, the hollow spaces, which were his eyes, widening slightly. "The turbulent mana and the shaking foundation of this realm ... no way ... Isidore set up a formation, and by using his life as a sacrifice he fueled the formation with the unyielding will of a deity. She isn't lying. We need to leave." The wraith, now not so emotionless anymore seethed "We have long lives, princess, we will come back one day, and I will get that prophecy." One by one, the 8 beings ran back towards the original rift, knowing the Seer would not let them pass without a fight.

  "Now, father, let me help you make this formation of yours last just a little longer." The Seer spoke softly, as the light of her eyes dimmed, leaving only two hollow spaces behind."

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  As the warrior ran towards the final tomb, prepared by the Seer and king in advance, the stone in his hand illuminated, revealing what was the final verse of the prophecy. The warrior muttered

  "When the land weeps, and the sky falls silent,

  The fire of the Forsaken shall kindle anew,

  A bloodline unbroken, a light unseen,

  Shall walk the path where shadows once reigned."

  "By the broken crown and the twisted sword,

  The children of man shall rise again,

  They will not just be men, nor gods, nor beasts,

  But what was lost, what was forgotten, what was torn."

  "In the hands of those who stand beneath the stars,

  The gates of the forsaken shall open wide,

  With one to lead, and one to guide,

  The worlds above and below shall collide."

  Now reading the final verse,

  "They will conquer the hearts of the gods,

  Yet the greatest foe shall come not from the skies,

  But from the ashes of their ancestors' sins,

  And only through blood shall the balance rise."

  The warrior placed the stone in its allocated place and looked just a bit further to see a cottage, equipped with all a man might need to live. On one of the wooden shelves was a picture of the warrior holding a pregnant woman in is arms; leaning against the frame was a terse note: "Don't forget. You have a duty to fulfill, my knight" The warrior chuckled slightly as he held the picture, while a tear ran down his cheek.