It's unbelievable how I always get inspiration before going to bed... The title is an Alice in Chains song, I'm not sure if it fits, but it kinda does? I guess?

Anyway, please let me know of any spelling mistakes, and enjoy!


Mot was leaving the small forest nearby Urulu with Alyssa happily bouncing beside him. Dianite has been scheduled to attend to some meetings with the city merchants throughout the day and, since his champion's services wouldn't be needed, the god assumed it was better to give him a day off. Being the caring father he was, Mot could not have thought of anything better to do than to take the little girl for a refreshing walk. They had spent the day running after bunnies and butterflies, feeding the animals that approached them, and stopping only to rest and eat the cookies and cake that Alyssa insisted to bring with them.

Now the sun was setting and they were a few meters away from the entrance to the city. Everything was bright, which seemed weird at that time of the day; usually the residents would go to bed early, leaving only a few lights on during their sleeping time. Unless there was some festivity, that he was not aware of, going on.

Mot looked up, trying to find the source of all those lights, and opened his ears to catch any music that would come from inside the gates.

The scene he was greated with, however, filled up his body with worry and confusion, and he ran up the sandstone path. A substantial amount of buildings were on fire, strings of smoke covered the streets, and the sounds, the ones that he assumed to be music, were the screams of the townspeople, abandoning their burning houses and crying for the gods to come and help them.

Before he could get to the main area of Urulu, he noticed, through the corner of his eyes, Spark running past him, reaching and comforting a scared CountryBat. In all the commotion he had forgotten about her. Maybe he wasn't fit to be a father, after all.

Without dwelling too much on the thought – he didn't need sadness to add up to the list of unsettling feelings growing inside him at the present time – Mot continued his way, wondering how Spark had gotten there, but reassured that Alyssa was in good hands for the moment. But he barely took two steps before Jeriah appeared in front of him, his clothes covered in blood and dust, and a shadow of defeat hovering over his eyes.

- Mot… - The man said, his voice almost inaudible.

- What's going on? – He questioned in return, not wanting to waste any more time. He wanted to go and help the city and its habitants as soon as possible.

- It's Dianite.

- Huh? Dianite? – The affirmation stopped Mot on his tracks and he stared at Jeriah with a confused look on his face. – Dianite is responsible for this?!

That sounded ridiculous, why would Dianite destroy the place where his champion lived? He raised an eyebrow and waited for an explanation.

The one he got, though, made him wish he had stayed with the idea that Dianite was, in fact and against all odds, destroying Urulu.

- He's dead.

Mot could not believe what he was being told, gods couldn't die, right?

- W-what? Haha. No way. He's a god, he can't die.

A few seconds passed, the sounds of burning flames filling the air.

- Mot, listen, Dianite was leaving one of the buildings accompanied by some merchants, before his personal guards could reach to him, though, a cloaked figure appeared in the sky and flew in his direction. From what I've heard this shadowy being vanished a couple seconds after, leaving Dianite's body lying on the ground with a sword coming out of his chest. – He stopped talking for a moment, letting the other absorb the information, and then continued – They were at the square near the libra-

Mot didn't hear Jeriah finish the sentence, he darted in the direction pointed, his heart aching and tears filling up his good eye, blurring part of his vision.

He soon arrived at the location, his eyes and mouth widening in disbelief.

On the steps in front of a burned down house, the body of his god rested still. The blood that poured from the wound, almost indistinguishable in contrast to the red skin, had made a dark and thick pool on the ground and also stained the rail in which the god tried to hold onto.

Mot staggered towards him, ignoring the crowd that had already formed in the place.

The name of his deity left Mot's lips in desperate cries while he held Dianite tightly in his arms. The body was long cold, and now the only warmth provided to it came from the tears that ran down the mottled man's face.

And he stayed there, crying for hours, no living soul daring to approach him, until the rain extinguished the fire and stopped the heavy walls of smoke from rising up to the skies.

He didn't even notice when the pair of arms of a young girl surrounded his neck into a hug, soon followed by her small voice begging him to go back home.