บท 56: Chapter Fifty-Six: The Pain Of Loss

~Pov Jantyr~ (Third Person)

Rakwrath awkwardly stared at Jantyr for a second, before regaining his bearings.

"Ah, yes, I forgot you've yet to be informed of the common knowledge." he exclaimed and reached into his void like body and pulled out an ominous, plank black book, no title or anything. It was big, as thick as a head, no doubt filled with various information.

Jantyr accepted the gift and put the book inside of him. Curious as to how it had worked for Rakwrath. Surprisingly it just disappeared inside him. But he still felt a slight connection to it, vaguely telling him to call for it.

"Anyways, Madulieon is the name of our world and it was born without a core! Most worlds have a core at birth, but ours didn't. This means two things, one, gods become important and two, mortals become very important!" he began, pausing for a second to see if Jantyr was paying attention.

"All things decay, this is common knowledge, I'm sure you're aware of that. Our world is no different. Worlds with cores do not decay, but when their core dies, or if they never had one to begin with, they start decaying. Slowly dying. To combat this, worlds create gods and mortals, each having their own role!" he paused once more, observing Jantyr's reaction. But was quickly disappointed by the lack of response.

"The decay is turned into many different forms of energies, also called radiation. This radiation can be used by all creatures in the world. They use the radiation, and reuses the material of the world, giving back what the world lost. Recycling its material so that it can live longer.

"Gods have two jobs. One is to control the mortals, help them grow, but also keep them in the most beneficial stage of their development. If they overextend they will be killed, because they are no longer beneficial.

"Our other job is similar to mortals, we take in other forms of radiation that mortals can't process, further increasing the world's lifespan. The gods who break these rules are known as evil gods, even if they're not necessarily evil!" Rakwrath finished.

"Evil gods, I see. How does one become an evil god? I get that we have to break rules that the world placed, but what are those rules?" Jantyr asked.

"Oh that's simple! Don't over use your blessings on mortals, only few should get powers from you. Do nothing to help them develop, like doing a big part of the work for them. You should only be an observer, that from time to time interferes in some ways!

"Now I personally find those rules stupid. That's why I'm an evil god." Rakwrath told Jantyr.

"Wait, you're an evil god?" Jantyr asked, confused.

"Yeah, I'm not really allowed to be here, but I sneaked in, while fighting the world's will to banish me again."

"Banish you?"

"Yeah, we evil gods live in The Forsaken Valley, it's below these mountains." Rakwrath said and pointed downwards.

"That mountain over there used to be my home!" he said and pointed towards one of the tallest peaks, with a ruined temple on it. It was completely void of anything except for the temple.

"When I was hailed as an evil god, my old friends felt betrayed and destroyed my temple. I spent a lot of time building that, pity!" Rakwrath sighed, giving off a depressed feeling while eyeing his old home.

"Won't the other gods attack you if they see you're here?" Jantyr asked.

"They'd certainly want to, sadly gods can't hurt each other. We can only annihilate one anothers worshipers and hope for them to decay and die over time. Gods are immortal as long as they're worshiped, but the second they're not, they will start dying, slowly aging like other mortals. It's a way to filter the useless ones, who don't do their jobs!" Rakwrath said.

After their short exchange of words Rakwrath turned his faceless head to the distant peaks and sighed.

"It seems our meeting has come to an end. If you're ever to fall, look for me; down there can be very depressing!" he said and started moving away from the peak,; then suddenly merging with the environment, disappearing from Jantyr perception.

No other god or goddess disturbed Jantyr, as he integrated into his new environment and soon he once more focused on worldly matters.

~Pov Lenart~ (Third Person)

It took three days to save everyone buried under the ruble and bury the dead. In the middle of the operation the children and women joined.

Only after rescuing everyone trapped did Lenart find his brother. Laying dead on the ground, his lower body completely crushed under one of the many rocks thrown under the invasion.

Lenart ceased helping them move the dead when he saw him. A man with similar looks to him, only meager, weaker in every way. A man that had avoided combat since the beginning till the end, only helping in the latest fights. He wasn't strong enough to fight the orcs.

A lone tear flowed along Lenart's chin, as the weight of reality bogged down his shoulders. His knees growing weak, as he crumbled under the pressure of gravity.

Mud had taken over the gravel road, as the rain never stopped, drenching Lenart's legs in dirt. But he didn't care, it had no importance to him. His hand was stained in blood from removing the stone on his brother. Yet he didn't care.

"Coward!" he whispered, "How can you just leave them?!" he yelled, slamming his fist into the ground, making it give in under the force, burying them in rocks. "How are they supposed to live without you!?" he screamed again, his words blasting the rubble away from them.

He removed the tear from his chin, smearing his brother's blood onto his cheeks. Then he lost all his strength, not even capable of taking out his sadness in the form of anger. He simply dazed, watching his brother's lifeless face for minutes.

Eventually Howard arrived, bringing Lenart back from his stupor. He weakly eyed his hunter friend, who just like him looked devastated. Seconds later they heard a woman scream, "Ronan".