Prelude - Re:Set the Stage
"As the day faded to dusk and shadows lengthened, the stars innumerable in count fell before our eyes. One by one, their radiance bled until the world we knew became no more…
The End had come at last.
Gods… save us."
—Elegy of a forgotten era
The Witch's Hand.
A Covetous Grasp.
Thousands of phantom limbs, born from a single soul drenched in envy.
These were the telltale harbingers of the Great Calamity, an event that rocked the world four centuries prior; leading to ruin every land and nation unfortunate enough to be crossed by the envious Witch in midst of her rampage.
Seen as ill omens that herald the coming of an end, the stories regarding these shade-like existences have been passed down to each generation following the original survivors. The embers stoked, and tales forever memorized, so that the cursed half-elf and her actions may never be forgotten. Though, that too was neither difficult to manage given the vast swathes of desolation left in her wake.
Stretching deep into the present day, the scars branching from Calamity lay apparent for all to see. An inquisitive soul seeking answers needed only to visit the Great Waterfall to find what had become of the bygone eras; where past the water's edge, entire nations and their chronicles once flourishing with glory had been wiped clean. Destroyed to the slate, until even the slates themselves were naught but ash scattered to the wind.
In the eyes of many during such times, the tribulations taking place were seen as the apocalypse. The end of the world that no one could hope to escape, and following the collapse of the olden Kingdoms, no bastions of refuge remained to find shelter. Faced with this overwhelmingly hopeless reality, the people grew numb to their fate and accepted the inevitable… but fortunately, such a thing was not meant to be.
For as surely as the sun sets and the moon rises each day, the existence of a grand evil was never without the arrival of equally great heroes to match.
Emerging from smoldering ruin, untamed wilderness, and places far beyond far, a band of saviors appeared to subjugate the Witch: The Sage, Sword Saint, and Divine Dragon. Uniting their efforts, they stemmed the relentless tide and reclaimed the lost lands, restoring order to the world by merits won with their deeds. However, try as they may, unable to destroy the Witch in her entirety, they instead sealed her beneath a place said to be impossible to escape from—a sentinel's spire that touched the heavens, its name: Pleiades—thus bringing an end to her wanton destruction once and for all.
Since those fateful days, four centuries have elapsed. A span in which the world slowly licked its wounds.
While the land recovered, pockets of civilization rebuilt themselves from the ground up, scattered across different corners of the world. Likewise, the anguish of the past gradually faded from the mind of man, leaving scarce few to recall the original details. But while life returned to normal, nothing remained as it did before.
Vast expanses of land that had once thrived before the Calamity remained lost to the world, having been consumed by the Witch and her shadows. Only a large body of water resided in place of them, encircling the land's perimeter; the remnants of which cascaded into the void in the form of a Great Waterfall—an everlasting requiem to what once was but never would be again.
Unfortunately, war made a return in due time as well. Typical to human nature, conflict arose in lack of a unifying force, while bloodshed was a natural part of life, no different from how one would draw breath. Though opposed to alternatives, the petty squabbles of man, nations, and beasts within their kingdom's borders were much preferred.
In this manner, all was well.
Life proceeded as normal. Ancient beliefs grew forgotten in absence of the nations that birthed them. The people fell into ignorant bliss, none the wiser of what it was they had lost while the world marched forward.
Truly, all had been well…
"Break." That was until a voice spoke quietly into the abyss.
A command delivered from the lips of a half-elf Witch, no less.
"How long has it been… since you promised me, Flugel…?" With nary a whisper, a question hung unanswered in the air as the Witch sat motionless. Coiled into herself, an expression of misery swirled within her eyes, welling with fresh tears whilst she gazed emptily into the void.
Longing…
Out of all the emotions experienced thus far, this one was the most familiar—the most vivid and painful to her—a fact that remained true even now. Like a noose, it wrapped tightly around her neck, stifling her cries into near silence while robbing her breath.
For those well acquainted with the experience of loss and sorrow, this sensation was an unspoken promise. A threat to completely shatter the spirit of a person, and send them spiraling through sheer weight of misery alone.
"Huu…" But in this case, the only thing it pulled from Satella was a slightly more labored breath than usual. This amount of grief had become second nature for her, pitiful as it was to admit.
Back then, following the days after the Sage's passing, the only thing Satella could feel was a distinct lack of… anything. An all consuming numbness that spread to the farthest reaches of her heart, causing her emotions to grow callous in response.
Eventually, when Satella managed to free herself from the chasm of her mind, she was no longer the same as before—no longer so easy to break. The Witch's grief became just another vestige linked to her body, an 'appendage' similar to the hands she controlled and set out on a whim, laying waste to the world all those years prior.
Which led to her situation now.
Foolishly, Satella thought herself immune to pain, or at least resilient—having felt enough of it to last for several lifetimes without end. But as if to punish her for such folly, another emotion began to swell in place of her familiar sorrow. A new feeling unlike anything she felt before.
The final step that sent her plummeting over the edge…
Hopelessness…
And with it, a deluge of long-since-buried questions rose up as well.
Why was it that she was locked here, isolated within this seal?
Was it intended to be the punishment she once feared despite being told it was not by the man she trusted most?
Did her beloved seek to enact justice on behalf of the world which she consumed in her maddening envy?
Why was she alone?
Why should she stay in such a place?
What reason did she have to continue lamenting her actions, when the only person who breathed meaning into her life was no more?
. . .
Must she wait in hope for a wish that would never come true?
"Of course…"
—Not.
A rueful giggle left her throat.
Truly, history had a habit of repeating itself. As it was before, and as it stood now, Satella no longer held a reason to continue her end of the promise following the untimely death of her beloved—the boy fated to 'save' her at the end of 400 years.
Despite still being trapped within the seal, she was now free in the truest sense of the word.
Free of hope.
Free of doubt.
Free of longing.
Free of burdens.
"With all this… the answer is obvious… is it not?"
Four centuries alone in darkness. An unfathomable time to spend destitute, clawing at her cage while resentment festered like a plague…
The culmination of those years, and efforts. The suffering she endured solely for the hope of reuniting with her destined one. To call it all a 'disappointment' wouldn't even begin to describe the turmoil waging war within her heart.
For everything to be snatched away so cruelly simply because fate willed it so… Given such a dilemma, what else could she feel other than madness? What else could she do? If such a thing was not made obvious by thought alone, then it became clear from the twisted smile that split her face even while she wept.
Insanity boiled within her eyes, peering from the cracks between her fingers—the purple hues darkening to reflect the state of her mind—but her reason still remained
Satella didn't understand.
The sins she committed were great, but were they enough to deserve all of this? To rob her of even salvation, and spit on her pleas for a second chance?
If that was the case…
"...Subaru," If the truth that stared at her now from lightless eyes atop a pool of blood was the answer that the world would provide to her in response, then it became clear what the Witch needed to do.
"There's no point… there's really no point. It's all pointless…" There was no reason in preserving such a meaningless existence. Nor was there any point in allowing it to continue, blind to the misery it caused her.
The Calamity would begin anew; only this time, seen to its end.
All that she lost.
All that she stood to gain.
Peace.
She would take it by force.
"...Is this truly what you desire?"
Faltering midstep, Satella grew still at the unbidden memory. A spark of clarity returned to her as she realized what she was doing.
—No… this isn't right…
Is this what she truly desired? To take the path of no return and lay waste to all the efforts poured into preventing the outcome she now happily approached with a smile?
No… Satella already knew the answer. It didn't require a second of deeper thought.
Becoming the very 'monster' the world reviled without anyone knowing who she was—about who lay beneath the cloak and shadows—was the very last outcome she wished to occur. But as things stood, the opposite seemed equally as impossible to achieve.
She… wanted to be happy. To live a normal life. Flugel always reminded her that she was a good person first and foremost rather than a Witch. He hammered this point more than anything else during the years they spent together, and over time, Satella grew to believe him.
She was a good person. She never desired to kill others. Never wanted to go on a rampage. Never wanted to devour half of the world and everyone who lived upon it. Sincerely, from her heart, this was the truth, the only truth among all the lies.
Rather, it was that part of her—Envy, who was to blame for everything that occurred to twist her life into that of a monster. All that came to pass was solely because of that wretched existence, nothing that followed; the deaths and the tragedies would have come to fruition otherwise. Satella knew this to be the case.
. . . . .
—But what does it matter…?
Such questions and the answers that came with them were trivial at this point. The truth was cruel, and reality even more so.
The decision she was making right now was nothing more than the fickleness of fate at work. All that remained was the road ahead paved in ruin… thus she took the first step toward the end. "Flugel… my beloved… Please forgive me..." Whispering to a place far past the prismatic veil, Satella gave a quiet apology before turning away.
From the ground, her eyes roamed the lightless sky before coming to a stop upon a certain space.
—Found you…
"Break." With all the hatred she could muster, the Witch uttered a single word towards the seal. Intent on destroying the very thing that prevented her from saving her beloved.
"—" In response, the shadows answered in kind.
A tidal wave rose from ripples in the dark as hundreds of hands were birthed in tandem. Thousands of limbs overlapped, then ten thousand more; increasing in number until a vast mountain of indecipherable shapes writhed as far as the eye could see. It was a sight harrowing enough to drive even the most stalwart of men insane.
"Go." From there, a single flick of her own was enough to send them surging upward.
In spite of the distance between them, the cacophony of ear-piercing wails was enough to make her shudder.
—Soon, it will be people instead…
"It's done," the Witch breathed out a weary sigh, "—or at least, it'll soon be over." In hindsight, Satella knew that it was foolish to have believed in those words spoken by Flugel.
To put faith into the idea of choice… from the moment Satella accepted the Envy factor into her body, willingly or not, there was no more 'choice' to speak of. Her fate was sealed and the days of her life numbered. It was only now, when brought to her wit's end, that the results of those seemingly inconsequential decisions were finally bearing fruit.
—Another sin among many…
It mattered not, she would continue where she left off and—
"Hey, hey~! Wait a second~!"
—consume the rest of the world, maybe then…
. . .
Satella paused.
—Wait.
Blinking a few times, she questioned her ears for a moment before looking back. The sight that greeted her from there caused the Witch's mind to immediately go blank.
"Hey~ I'm up here!" Seemingly stuck for all intents and purposes, a child waved enthusiastically while hanging sideways from the prismatic wall. A bright smile lit up his face as if
meeting with an old friend.
Realizing that his efforts had been well received, albeit blankly judging by the flat stare, "Oh, wow! I've been trying so hard to get through to you, but this happened, then that, and now I'm here~! Anyways… Umm… just let me… hah?…" the boy squirmed furiously before sagging at the realization that he couldn't escape.
"Hehe~..." With a chuckle, an embarrassed flush lit up his cheeks before he looked towards her, "Ehm… a little help, please~?"
In response, the Witch simply stared, much to his discomfort.
Thankfully it didn't last for long. Noticing movement behind the boy, Satella tilted her head a few degrees to the side and saw another figure step into view, this time clad in a thick fog that hid most of what should have been visible.
At first glance, they moved with surprising fluidity in spite of their size, and with a demeanor far more imposing given the noticeably eerie aura they exuded. "Ah~!" The boy seemed to take notice of this arrival as well, craning his head, "Haha~ Artosh-san, you actually followed me here, I can't say I'm surprised but…"
He coughed, "Ehem~!... I mean it's great to see you here~! Fufufu~ Now, quickly give me a push forward and… I'll be able… to…" Gradually, the boy began to trail off, his voice growing quieter the longer he watched.
"Umm…"
"..."
"A-Artosh-san… you really…?" Blinking once, then twice, his mouth slowly fell open while Satella's face only grew impossibly blank.
In a painfully similar fashion, much to the incredulity of everyone present, the hulking figure ended up stuck partway through the wall as well. Half of his torso and one leg managed to cross over, while the other half aside from his head remained on the opposite end, held at an awkward angle clear to see.
"..."
"..."
"..."
With this, silence reigned between them.
The Witch had enough.
Beholden to the strange image, much less the sudden appearance of guests in a place where no one should be able to appear based solely on a whim, it wasn't long before a sound parted from Satella's lips. A string of words gleaned from a certain, wise Sage well-versed in the ways of the world.
An answer all in its own right regarding what she thought about the situation before her.
"...What the fuck?" Dumbfounded, Satella cursed for the first time in centuries.
"Ahhhh~ That really stung… I guess they weren't lying about getting stuck while crossing over~ huh?... But for some reason, I didn't expect Artosh-san to also-"
"Bite thy tongue."
"Fufufu~ You're really embarrassed about that, huh~?"
"..."
…After having some time to think, the Witch came to realize something about her 'guests.'
"Anyways, we came here because something interesting was going on, and wanted to see if- Ah, wait! We never got your name~!" Snapping his fingers, the boy suddenly leaned over the small table with a wide grin. Clearly expecting a reply if the quite-literal twinkle in his eyes were anything to work off of.
—They're reeea~lly strange…
"It's Satella..." Returning a half-hearted answer, Satella looked elsewhere while the child fell deep into thought.
With a moment to now properly take in the scenery, her focus went towards her hand instead where the contents of a cup steamed gently into the air. Lifting it, Satella took a measured sip…
—This is surprisingly delicious?
…Which should've stood out as a surprise, since none of it existed a few minutes prior.
In truth, the set-up: table, cups, tea, and all had been snapped into existence by the boy sitting—now floating—across from her after the initial chaos came to pass. Combined with a lush green field of grass that looked severely out of place over the yawning abyss, it was intended to be a 'surprise tea time~!' according to his own words.
But while it did make for a quaint picture, and the tea itself was of surprisingly high quality, those were all entirely beside the point. The sudden appearance of her guests still left some veeee~ry important questions that needed to be answered, such as:
Why are there two gods visiting her?
Or more specifically, how…?
Satella hadn't realized the fact until drawing close enough to get a proper read of the two.
Thick, roiling clouds of hyper-dense material coined as Ether—something impossible to describe or measure outside the simple fact that it existed—covered them…. no, rather than covered, it was what composed their beings entirely.
"Tsk…" Satella clicked her tongue. Even now, the memory of those phantom barbs and volatile presences pricked her skin with pain. They were toned down after the two noticed her discomfort, but still…
—Huu~... Forces beyond comprehension… Wonderful.
To say Satella was surprised would've been an understatement.
She had heard of existences like these in the past, during a time long since forgotten, but never has she encountered one until today, let alone a pair. Not to mention, for deities who held no place being anywhere near her, or the world to appear so suddenly and without warning, such a thing should've been impossible… and yet, the evidence sitting before her now directly contradicted that formerly iron-tight belief.
So naturally, she was curious about the "why's" of many things.
—What do they want?
Not trying to hide her interest, Satella glanced over the table with a meaningful look. But rather than take notice, the boy continued to poke at the towering figure beside him even while speaking to her.
"Satella, Satella… Satella-tan? Nice to meet you, fufu~! My name is Tet, and this is…—hey, Artosh-san~! Why don't you say something too? It's rude to stay silent at a friendly meeting y'know~! If you keep staying cooped up like this, you'll never make any frien—AH?!" Tet suddenly yelped as he was launched skyward. The deity at the receiving end supposedly had enough, growing infuriated with Tet's constant pestering.
"..." Meanwhile, Satella trailed the screaming, still-ascending figure with her eyes, not quite sure what to make of him.
In more ways than one, the god who introduced himself as Tet stood out as an enigma. With the appearance of a child that would've fit seamlessly into her beloved's world, should the vibrant colors of his hair and mismatched eyes go unnoticed; everything about the deity from his apparel to his attitude fit the stereotype of a 'gamer' to a perfect tee.
He was not the patient type either. The amount of times Tet's chair teetered dangerously close to the edge of falling was more than she could keep track of. Though oddly enough, it refused to fully tip over against all reason, most likely due to happenstance, or a particular aspect of his ether, if she had to guess.
"Wow~ You really are a killjoy…" drifting back down, Tet let out a groan. "But I guess it makes sense, seeing that you were the Old Deus of War after all. Fufufu! Socializing isn't your forte, Artosh-san~"
"..." Though, while all this aptly covered the far-too-playful god, the other figure standing off to the side was the polar opposite of Tet.
Far more brooding and quiet. Almost malevolent. In spite of the tension-filled silence he maintained, Satella could tell that Artosh was a man, or at least something very similar to one. He possessed a bulky, nigh-titanic frame that loomed at a height far above her own, while the rest of his shape remained blurred out beneath some sort of fog—a substance closely resembling Ether, but not quite the same. It was impossible to deduce anything about the man other than what looked to be wings sprouting from his back…
"..." and the abundant amount of animosity he was aiming towards her for some reason. If it was at the boy, Satella could understand, but why her?
—Have… I done something wrong?
Frowning, Satella pondered on the thought before Tet clapped his hands, drawing both pairs of eyes toward him, "Okay~!" "Since we're all settled in now, let's start! Satella-tan, can you guess why you're here?"
She opened her mouth to speak before pausing upon realizing what was said. "Isn't that… what I should be asking you instead?" Confused, a question tumbled out instead, something that seemed to amuse the deity as he shook his head.
"Mm~ I guess that's right. Well, let me rephrase then…" Tet nodded in thought before he spoke, "Do you know why you're in this situation~?"
At that, Satella frowned.
—Why am I in this situation…?
Wasn't it fairly obvious? A series of devastating misfortunes and the world acting against her interests led to this most undesirable of outcomes. All the time and effort invested over the years made mote after a single inconvenient night, but what did that have to do with anything?
"I…" Satella consolidated her thoughts. But before she could deliver them, a voice cut in from the side.
"Thou art simply weak, is this not the truth?"
. . .
—What?
Falling into a stupor, Satella looked to where a pair of eyes smoldered with unrestrained disgust. "H-Hey, Artosh-san~ Let's not-" Tet tried to slip carefully into the burgeoning conflict after sensing the tension in the air, but was again sent flying by the Old Deus of War, this time even farther than before. Enough that he wouldn't be able to interrupt again.
"Silence. Thou hath said thy piece, now I shall say mine." In a tone that brokered no argument, Artosh turned to face the Witch. The words that came next fell with weight, possessing a note of finality seldom encountered.
Laden with meaning only Satella would understand; it felt as though they were reserved solely for her to hear and bear the burden of. As if the molten golden orbs in place of the god's eyes saw through her, and in their observation, understood the Witch for her entirety.
Strengths. Weaknesses. Faults. Sins.
All were laid bare.
"Ah…" For the first time, Satella felt naked in a way she couldn't describe.
"Thou art wretched. Declaring thyself wronged and cursing the world for fault that lies solely upon thyself. For this, of what speak'st thou to declare thy sins the fault of another? In the face of thy squalor, who other than thee can accept blame? Is not the hand that strikes first, drawing blood, the hand responsible for the plight that follows? Art thou even lesser the powerless ants that writhe among the dust?"
A blurred arm motioned back to where Tet was making his return. "This fool wishes to drip honeyed words into thy ears. He, who ascended the throne of the One True God through victory not of his own making, stripping the mantle from he who was rightfully deserving of the throne. That is the youngest of the Old Dei thou appeareth to trust and favor above mineself."
"Artosh…" A voice murmured quietly at the retort, far closer than before.
For some reason, Satella felt a shudder run through her body in response, and realized a second later that it came from the utter lack of warmth normally found in the playful god.
Joy culled in its entirety, only a cold glare remained to fill the far too vacant void with deeper tension.
It was a warning of what would follow should the discussion continue traversing down this route… but while Satella sat frozen from it, Artosh continued to speak without pause, his gaze never wavering. Rather, his eyes grew bolder, the flames within them almost burning with… anticipation?
"Unlike this fool, I will do no such thing. I simply ask thee a question, and thy answer shall shape the path that follows."
Beneath the haze, Satella could see a smile slowly stretch out, contrasting the grimace on Tet's face.
"Dost thou wish to save him?"
I'm aliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiive~!
Now I'm dead. See you potatoes again in another 633 days.