Interlude II

The sacred city

After the Gods came, everything changed.

I am a humble person, and as such I struggle to put in order the thoughts I am now going to write in this little journal.

So, dear reader, I apologize if my words are not enough to describe the complexities of reality and the endless facets of history.

What I can tell you is what my eyes have observed over the years.

But where to begin?

When the Gods first showed themselves to us, we were incredulous.

Try to understand us, until then our prayers had gone unheard and our suffering had been a constant for times immemorial.

So it was not strange that many were skeptical at first.

It was difficult to trust strangers who had come from nowhere, and who could boast powers never before recorded in history.

"Could they really be Gods?"

"I don't know…"

Doubt crept into the needy minds of fearful people lacking certainty, who only wanted their woes to end. But, don't get the wrong idea, the unsure numbered only a few.

"Yes, I'm sure of it. How else can you explain the way they saved us from those horrible monsters?"

My mother had been one of the first disciples of the new cult. From the day the Six saved both her and me, it was as if she had been reborn.

"Elisa, isn't it splendid? If only your father were still here. But I'm sure from where he looks at us, he is happy to know we are safe."

"If they are Gods, why don't they bring Dad back to life?"

"Don't be silly. The Gods certainly can't waste their time on us, mere mortals. Be thankful that they saved us."

I had my doubts, but seeing my mother so happy for finally finding the peace she longed for was enough. Was mother content? Then so was I.

Our villagers were not the only ones blessed with the protection of the Six.

At first, we were a small community, but quickly more and more villages began to join ours.

Within a year, we had reached the size that no other human settlement had ever even grazed in the past.

"Look, friends," my mother had become one of the first preachers of the new faith. She, and many others, would get up at morning vespers, just before the workday began, to share the 'good news,' as they called it. "Every day new refugees come here to us, knowing that they will find protection here. Why, you ask? Because they know that here their pain can have an end. We have been granted a gift, so beautiful that I feel like crying. The days of my childhood, spent hiding from a danger I did not understand, are now over!"

When she would start with her sermons, not even the time for breathing was wasted. A proficiency that took me years to assimilate.

"I remember when my parents died. I didn't even have time to bury them, or mourn them, intent as I was on finding a way to save myself. But by now, those are just memories. If you worship the Gods, you will never again suffer the pangs of hunger! You will no longer fear the night! The only thing awaiting you in your future is prosperity!"

She knew how to get the crowds fired up, no doubt about it.

I would act as her assistant, carrying the various papers on which her speeches were jotted down. In time, I began to share her ideas.

After all, it was the truth. The life we were living before was not remotely comparable to the new one.

Knowing that there was someone watching over us allowed us to devote our time to everything that before was just a waste of time.

Music, literature, painting, and theater. If before only the professions necessary for survival found a place in daily life, we were now learning about, partly through the guidance of the Gods, a new world that we had previously ignored.

Before the Gods, we were surviving, but now we had begun to live.

What about the Gods, in all of this?

They were living with us, eating with us. Well, at least almost all of them.

"The God of death is scary, isn't it?"

"I heard that he repelled a horde of Beastmen attacking a nearby village the other day. A pilgrim said he didn't even have to move to make those creatures collapse lifelessly to the ground."

"I am grateful to him. But I hope I never see his face. They say he's gruesome. Don't you think the same, Elisa?"

Always locked up in the royal palace, the God of death was never seen by ordinary mortals except in very rare cases. Why did he need to meet with us if he would one day lead to the afterlife?

"No, I don't think so."

I, however, was fascinated by him. After all, it was he who had saved me that fateful day. I knew there couldn't be anything so terrible about him. Or at least I hoped so.

I was always looking up at the sky, wondering if I would see him again someday.

"Look at him, Elisa. Isn't it beautiful? This is your little brother."

About five years after the coming of the Gods, my half-brother was born.

Unlike me, godly blood flowed in his veins.

Yes, in the previous world, many women and men had been widowed. And rather than remarry with old and pathetic humans of their own kind, they had decided it was better to reproduce with the Gods. Would you have judged them for their choice?

For their part, our protectors were more than happy to give themselves to humans. At the time I did not have a clear idea of how sex worked, but in retrospect, it was evident that the Six -or perhaps it would be better to say the Five- found it a decidedly fulfilling activity.

"Have you decided on a name for him?"

"Lian, after your father."

I know, naming the child you received from your second union after your late husband would perhaps have seemed distasteful. But, dear reader, try to understand.

We had realized that the children of the gods were not mere humans.

Many of them showed extraordinary abilities and exponential growth from an early age.

At first, we thought it was just a coincidence, but the more time passed the more we understood that lineage determined the abilities that could be bestowed.

And on a more venial level, the Gods were beautiful. It was not strange that every man or woman, regardless of their sexual inclinations, desired to lie with one of them.

It was something beyond mere physical appearance. A primal desire drew us with a magnetic force impossible to resist.

Even I, once I reached adulthood, found it difficult not to fall into temptation. Not that I ever had that honor, of course.

"Big sister, who is my father?"

Lian grew up quickly and, like many of his half-brothers and half-sisters, proved to be the rightful heir of the Wind God.

At six years old, he was already stronger than a grown man.

The herculean might he had could be a danger to many of our neighbors, so I spent a lot of time trying to train him and teach him how to control it. Not with many brilliant results.

Seeing how quickly it was growing was a joy for me. I confess that quickly, busy as our mother was with clergy affairs, I began to see him more like a son than a brother.

He was my pride.

"See that palace in the center of the city?"

By now we were no longer a mere gathering of stragglers, but a real nation.

Towns and villages sprang up with each new day as our capital city grew more powerful and majestic.

Kami Miyako, the city of Gods, we called it.

"Your father lives up there. He is the God of Wind. He who darts through the skies every day to keep us safe."

"Wow. Do you think I can meet him someday?"

"I'm sure."

Lian's father, the God Nekole, was also known as the most 'energetic' of his kind.

In the capital alone, it was estimated that there were at least a hundred of his descendants.

Although my half-brother never socialized with any of them during his boyhood, in time he learned that the family he was a part of was much larger than he thought.

And so, Lian also grew up. The little boy became a beautiful man with hair as blue as the sea and a physique as perfect as a work of art.

I had now become a full-time priest of the cult of the Six Great Gods.

But the more time passed, the more the commitments of our deities increased.

Our enemies grew more and more, and even the Gods could not be everywhere.

"It is time for you to learn to defend yourselves!"

Imirduo, the Earth God, was the first to realize that humans could not continue to live in the shadow of their protectors.

I was twenty-five years old when the Scriptures were born.

At first, they were an independent organization under the direct control of the Earth God, but soon, as their numbers grew, relations with the clergy intensified.

Churchmen, like myself, were the word. The Scriptures, on the other hand, the sword.

"Big sister, I was enlisted. I will also fight in the army of the Gods."

Liam, of course, was one of the chosen ones. I can't say it made me happy, but I understood that increasing our military might was necessary now that we were beginning to gain more and more of our own autonomy.

Like him, many others of the descendants of the Gods formed what would, in time, become our elite units.

We coniated a name for those like him.

Heroes.

"It is absolutely vital to keep track of all descendants. It is in the blood that the various skills are passed from one individual to another."

In concert with the military apparatuses, various citizen census organizations were born.

Our growth was exponential.

By the time I had reached thirty-five, we were on par with the great neighboring nations.

"Lady Elisa, did you hear? The Wind God killed a dragon as big as a mountain the other day. The Red Empire is asking for a treaty of peace."

After years of hard work, I had achieved a certain position within the clergy. I and a few others were beginning to be called Cardinals by our colleagues because of our experience and devotion.

Interpreters of the divine will, if you will.

"Yes, Lord Nekole told me about it the other day. He didn't explain in detail what happened, but he assured me that there is nothing to fear anymore. Once again, our fellow citizens are safe."

"Ah, what joy! To be in close contact with the Gods! I pray that such good fortune will happen to me someday."

"I am sure it will, brother."

The Gods had begun to show themselves less and less.

Only a few close associates had access to their rooms.

Why?

The truth was that they were getting older.

Like ordinary human beings.

Except for him, of course. But the God of Death had been locked up in his rooms for years, and except for his companions and the lesser deity who assisted our Gods, no one could see him.

"Sister, I met my father the other day. He exuded that aura of legend that bards sing about. But he was not as I had imagined him all these years."

"What do you mean?"

"He looked ... old. He even had a few wrinkles on his face. Maybe I made a mistake."

"I'm sure that was the case. Lord Nekole is just tired from the constant traveling he has to do every day to keep us safe. But there's nothing to worry about."

"If a Cardinal says so, I have no doubt."

Life continues like this for many years. I and the other Cardinals were the only ones aware of a secret that was getting heavier to bear every day.

But how could we tell the population? How could we tell them that soon their Gods would be gone?

I still recall my mother's words on her deathbed.

"I am grateful. I never thought I would die peacefully, surrounded by my loved ones. I was sure I would not reach the age you are now. And, instead, here I am. Hardly anyone reached old in my day. How beautiful life is. I can't wait to meet your father again and tell him about all the experiences I've had."

Like her, so many others had achieved the peace they had so longed for. And now there was a danger that things would return to the way they were before.

The first to leave us was the Earth God.

He who had worked so hard for our future was the first who could not see it fulfilled.

At least he would achieve immortality through his works, that was what I told myself to console myself.

A lie that hid the despair I felt.

"For now, only the other Gods and minor deities are aware of the 'rise' of the God Imirduo, besides us. But..."

"Soon the other Gods will catch up with him. And the time will come to tell the inhabitants of the Theocracy the truth."

Slaine's Theocracy. This was the name we had given to our home.

Slaine. In honor of the Six who had given us a future.

"But how can we do that? I was only a child at the time, but I remember well the state our people were in."

It was then that I illustrated my proposal.

"We will create a story. The Gods are not dead. They have only returned to the astral plane from whence they came, to protect our world from dangers we cannot imagine."

"Do you think it will work?"

"We have no other choice."

The others reluctantly agreed with me.

And so, we initiated our plan. Every priest, no matter the rank or position, was instructed on what he had to say to the people.

The Gods had not abandoned us. But they simply had other, much more important matters to attend to.

That is why they had mingled with us for so long. In their generosity, they had given us a way to defend ourselves.

I don't know how many of them actually believed the story we tacked on, but the fact is that the doctrine remained united.

Also, any possible departure from the dogma we had imposed was suppressed in blood.

I am not proud of it. But it was necessary. Was killing other humans the right choice? For the greater good everything was.

In the end, even the Wind God left us.

"I hope I will see him again one day."

Lian never knew what had truly happened to his father.

In his head, the paladin of the Theocracy was experiencing new adventures in dimensional planes other than our own. Protecting us from unholy demons who tried to corrupt our spirits.

My brother was happy. And so was I.

Then came the fatal hour for the Goddesses of Fire and Water.

Last, was the God of Life.

He alone remained, in that immense tower we now called the Cathedral, buried in the highest part of the building.

No one had access to that place. What he was doing there was a mystery that very few dreamed of finding out.

We Cardinals were working tirelessly, trying to hold together the fragile balance we were building.

One evening, locked in my thoughts, I began to wander aimlessly in the Cathedral of Darkness.

Without realizing it, I arrived at the treasure room, where all the legacies of the Gods were kept.

Driven by an unexpected curiosity, I entered.

"Welcome."

A ghostly, thread-thin voice greeted me.

It was him.

Surshana.