Disclaimer: See chapter 1.
A Story of Eighteen Years (A Chorus of Grace and Shadow Story)
Chapter 10: The Shattering (Twilight of the Gods)
By Centurious the Azure and Stormwolf 77415
(122 years ago, Leyndell, the Holy Capital of the Imperium of Midgard, the Heart of the Erdtree.)
It was enough. Finally, enough to break her. It took ages, and centuries. Literal eons. Enough was enough for Her. Queen Marika the Eternal threw open the inner sanctum's door—the temple where God dwelled. Not to pray for the souls of the departed. The problem was SHE was God, and the time for prayer was over. It was time to make the world look like her insides, completely shattered.
The darkness shrouding the inner sanctum of Her temple was also veiled by the fog of time itself. She cast back the darkness, and the fog with a simple gesture. God commanded there to be light. And it was made so.
She strode into the chamber with the fury of a god-made vengeful. Unforgivingly so. And then, she was upon the altar of the very temple itself. The place where Her godhood was forged in the fires of faith, and reverence. And fear. Fear was the most important ingredient to creating God, the one true god in all the lands. When she spoke that day upon her forging, all of the lands and people shook. The trumpets glorifying her ascension sounded. And surely, the beginning of paradise was welcomed by her followers. The opposite for her enemies, all they earned was hell on earth itself through Her golden wrath smote by the hammer of Her divinity.
"Hell," she said, her voice entirely hollow. Starring at the altar with contempt with her molten gold gaze, "hell was here the entire time. I simply did not realize it until now. But, no more…" Marika whispered, her voice harsh with steel. Yet, she spoke with the eloquence befitting her stature. "It is now that this farse ends. For good or worse…"
It was then she screamed piercingly, hand plunged within herself. Into the core of creation itself. There was no blood, simply the grace of gold fully on display. Even then, there was pain most divine indeed. The struggle was what made such a thing godly all on its own, is it not?
She cried and wrestled within herself as she tugged at it. Tears of gold were shed through the intensity of the agony. Her heart ached. The grief was too much. For a mother, both great and terrible in the eyes of man was still a woman. And she loved deeply as any would. With love, came the chance of tragedy. That tragedy had struck within the heart of the God. That grief turned to anger, that anger became rage, and until finally it developed into hatred. A hate so tinged in the depths of despair that it bolstered her tolerance for anything. The pain of her physicality was nothing compared to the deep, welling darkness in her heart.
The wailing increased by several octaves and there was a flash of blinding light. The light of creation itself shone with the brightness of a thousand suns. For it was the very first thing ever. The tool by which her godhood was forged. Her sword in times of war. A forging hammer of creation. And the gentle touch of a mother all the same. This time, though, it would be used as a clenched fist to shatter all.
A golden orb appeared within her hand made of light. She sneered, huffed, and puffed through the pain that was finally beginning to subside as she clenched her chest with all her might. "You," she said with all the chilling, rending venom in the world within her voice. "You shall no longer be, Elden Ring. O, Elden Ring. The spark of life itself. All glory that is gold made manifest. The very stitch of creation itself. Shattered you will be. Along with this corrupted, evil world. Prithee, die for me… As you had my Godwyn die for thee."
She placed the source of all upon the altar to Herself. She raised her hand, and in a flash of brilliance, a great stone hammer appeared with her grasp. Intricate in appearance, and carved from the very scales of an ancient being's form from the beginnings of creation. It mattered not where it came from, or how it was made. It was simply the instrument by which the end would come. Not through a whisper, or through fire and ice, but by the wrath of a mother who had enough of the despair of this transient world had to offer. She'd seen too much, and been through it all. There was no turning back from this. For this was the only answer this god, no this mother risen to godhood, could stand to muster.
It was then a hand stopped her. A hand strong, and large clenched the hammer. The hand of a champion. The countenance of a lord boomed in a commanding voice, "MARIKA! WHAT is this folly, wife?!"
It was then she turned within his tight grasp, her long blonde in braid hair a mess and the mascara on the edges of her eyes dripped down her cheeks in a streak of black tears. She looked not like a god but a simple woman right then. So small, and fragile. Yet, she was powerful. She felt not a bit like she was the object of worship of all. Yet, there was a hollow grimness in those golden eyes that could not be denied. Even in the darkness of despair, the goddess' mind was made up. And her husband knew there was no turning back. Not without a fight.
Marika smiled emptily at the man she called her husband, a man so large and imposing that no simple robe could hold him. He was shirtless, looking as if he had been chiseled with the hand of god herself. And maybe he had been, in truth.
There was his face, so perfectly handsome. Almost pretty despite the harsh expression on his face. Those similarly golden eyes sparked with the heat of the sun itself. Consumed with confusion, fear, and anger. Flickering all at once within them. No one understood why his long hair was so red with the vigor of life itself. So long that it nearly touched the floor. Just as her golden tresses were rendered.
Marika almost relented, almost stopped to reconsider seeing the face of her beloved. He was life, and faith. And she downcast with fear and doubt. Such polar opposites, yet the same at once. The coupling of perfection itself.
"O Radagon," she began, her voice so perfectly soft. Oh, so gentle. Yet, the icy daggers within her eyes were spoken of defiance. "Leal hound of mine Golden Order. Thou'rt yet to become me. Thou'rt yet to become a God. Let us be shattered, both. Mine other self."
It was then they struggled against one another, fighting for the hammer that would smite creation itself. It was not merely the struggle between man and wife. No, they were god and god. A goddess of creation and bounty versus a god of wisdom and war. Their strength was even. For they were the same, yet opposites between the sun and the moon. The dawn and dusk. The sky and the earth itself. Two aspects that were always at war, and always would be in the eyes of mortals.
For they did not see that even gods were capable of folly. Wrong pertained to them just as much as right. Fickle, they were just as men would always be.
"Please, Marika, see reason!" Radagon begged, pleading between the grunts of exertion. "Thou mustn't do this. Please for our subjects. For our world. For their children, and their children's children. Do not curse them as you would curse this world."
Marika hissed, her teeth clenching into a sneer. "Reason, husband?" Letting out a sharp, light gasp as she pushed against her godly husband's force. "There is no longer reason to be had within this forsaken world where my children are butchered. My children, our children were taken from us. Yet, you beg for compassion and forgiveness. I see none, and I shall render none to this blighted world. There is no mercy to be had for what it has become."
Both gods exerted their strength, yet none gained ground. Or acceded to the other. The ground beneath their feet splintered, and cracked with the toil of the gods fighting for the shape of creation itself. There was simply no winning here for either, or anyone within this world.
Radagon raised his head, crying out into the abyssal darkness of the endless chamber above. For there was one even higher than them, "Greater Will, please help me! Your children need your strength, and wisdom to see this fight end before it was too late!"
No one expected an answer. For a long moment, there was none. Only a mere echo answered back. Marika laughed hoarsely, mockingly jeering his feebleness. "Do thou not see, Radagon? The Will cares not for us. Or our folly. It has abandoned us wholesale. We were long forsaken by a god who wishes for us to struggle eternally."
It was then as if on cue, a voice rang out from the darkness above. So feminine, and high-pitched. A pinprick of light shone from above like a single bright star, the one peerless source of luminance, in the night's sky. "Ask and you shall receive, my beloved pet… But don't hate me if you don't like the result!" A snap of a finger echoed through the grand chamber. A golden light consumed both of their figures.
Marika wept, letting out a tender gasp of "no…" as she was taken into the flare of intense light. Radagon closed his eyes, accepting with faith that god's will was done. The light subsided, and then two were one. Only Radagon victoriously stood there, grand hammer in hand. Yet, there was only sadness in his chiseled expression. "Marika, my wife…" He said under his breath, clenching the hammer in regret. "Forgive me for going against thee. It t'was the only solution."
"Aw," the voice from above cooed. "Don't be sad, Raddy. She's within you literally. Tell her that nobody likes a spoiled sport…" The voice hummed thoughtfully, "Considering what she did… This is going to be more than a little time-out. Raddy, take some notes for me…"
The man bowed before the star, the one light in the sky. He came down to kneel, setting the hammer down as he prayed, "Greater Will," The man, the god said, in humility. His hand upon his heart. "I am always at your command."
The voice from above giggled admiringly as if his actions were too cute. The star lowered itself from the great void to the very ground Radagon stood upon, taking shape into something more human. It was feminine in nature. Yet, completely featureless, and unknowable as if was completely made of light. Its gross incandescence was too much for Radagon to behold. He kept his eyes lowered out of respect and also for the safety of his vision.
"Now, then," The Will began, gesturing at him. Perhaps more so the presence of Marika. "Marika is on the outs with yours truly. We need to consider a replacement for the vessel. My Empyrean…" She wiggled an index finger. The ball of light, the very essence of creation itself flittered to her in the air until it came to rest on the tip of her finger. "My Maiden of the Ring, if you will. Let's consider who is on the list: there's our dear Lunar Princess Ranni, your youngest daughter. She's so smart, so clever… So much so that she's beyond even my grasp. No soul returned to the Erdtree when she "died". How bothersome. I liked her a lot. Especially for her pained expression as you left your first wife, Rennala for Marika…" The spirit tapped her "lips" with a fingertip, musing aloud rather than asking. "How is your ex, by the way? Not catatonic anymore I hope."
Radagon had no answer. He merely twitched; his visage pained with the sourness of regret. The Will raised a hand, brushing the subject entirely as if it were dirt. "Never mind that, poochie. We have another candidate on the list: your daughter with Marika, Malenia the Severed. Or Undefeated. Or the Blade of Miquella. Whatever moniker she goes by these days. She's pretty gross given the Rot within her but her strength of will is surely most divine. She won't die even if she falls to mush. That's why she'll never fall to another opponent. Even if they do bully the stars themselves…"
Radagon has no answer once more. He subtly twitches once more, the Will not paying any mind as the hand over his heart clenched into a fist. "Then, there's poor, tiny Miquella." The golden figure began pacing about, fingering her "chin" most carefully in consideration. "Our dear boy was somebody I dismissed initially given his perpetual childhood. Still, there's something to be said of his brilliance. He's the greatest mind of this era. The maker of many little gadgets and spells never before seen. He compels passionate belief with his mere charms alone. Or is it magic…? Who knows! All I know is that he made another great tree all on his own. That's pretty badass, I will admit. Even I'm smart enough to see he is perhaps the most fearsome Empyrean of the three of them."
Radagon had no input as he remained silent. The Will continued further, not minding her vassal's lack of input. "What I do know is that Marika is the old, and busted…" The figure said, tossing the ball of light about as if it was a toy between her hands. Juggling as she spoke as one became two, and two became four. Four became infinite. Too much for Radagon's small mind to grasp. "All your children are a credit to you, though. Radagon, you made some nice vessels for my "Ring" for me. For you are my favorite… And always have been favored by me."
The vast infinite of the spheres became one once more. She balanced the vessel of the stars on her fingertip, spinning it as one would a ball meant for a basket. "It's simply too hard to choose, Raddy…" She deliberated all too casually on the fate of creation itself. There was a small titter, though. That titter became a full-on gleeful laugh. Her very "body" shuddered with laughter, and excitement. Laughter echoed off of the wall of the great temple to her divinity. "Whatever happens, though, it will be full of glorious struggle! So much magnificent entertainment for the next thousand years! It will be so full of life! It gives me the shivers just thinking about it!"
The Great She turned to Radagon, asking once more for his input. "What do you think, poochy?" She tilted her head curiously, "which Age should follow this dried-out husk of one?"
Radagon trembled with anger, his face no longer stone. He bit his lip, and tears ran down his face. He grasped the hammer. Its handle began cracking under the sheer strength of his grip. "Those are my children you're talking about," he said warningly in a voice both masculine and feminine. It was then he stood up, his form shifting into something else. Something womanlier. That fiery, flowing red mane became golden blonde. In a sudden flash of golden light, Radagon became Marika. The fury of a woman scorned by the very God of All was worn on her queenly countenance. She was no longer the mother, Marika became the warrior. A war goddess who was peerless in all aspects of violence and terror.
Still, the God of All was not impressed. She stood there in the glory of Marika. The fiery god who had struggled through many obstacles to destroy everything, and forge a new world out of the bodies of her enemies. The Will stood there, her arms crossed because she knew. All because it was she to enabled Marika to do all those things on her command.
The Greater Will let out an unimpressed noise. "Tsk," She muttered, shaking her head. "You don't really know when to quit. Do you, Marika…?"
Marika scoffed, asking spitefully of the god. "Why would I quit at all, you monster… You put me up to this in the first place. You never allowed me a moment's rest from the very beginning."
"Monster…?" The Will echoed, sounding rather hurt by the accusation. "That's a bit hurtful, don't you think? I mean, I gave you all of this." She held her arms up in an all-encompassing gesture, the glowing manifestation of nature in her grasp. "Shouldn't you be the least bit grateful to me?"
Marika scowled at the thing calling itself God, staring at it with all the loathing she could muster. "I was merely a girl then, thing, who didn't know right from left, up from down, and life from death. You took advantage of me when you spoke to me. Promised me everything when I had naught with all your tender whispers."
The Will shrugged, not buying what she was selling. It was simply Tuesday. "I promise things all the time. And I give Grace in return for struggle. You earned your Grace but now…I think you need to be put in your place." There was an edge of danger to her voice. Promising death if she did not submit.
She pointed down to the floor with the ring in her grasp, flatly demanding, "Prostrate yourself to me, Marika. Beg for clemency. I will forgive you for all your trespasses. You might even live to see the coming age if you say "please"." The figure put a mocking emphasis on the last word, letting out a titter at the angered expression given in return. "What? It is a simple request, is it not?"
"Why…?!" Marika demanded, her face twisting into an aggrieved expression. Tears flowed from her eyes once more. "Why are you so cruel, God?! I gave you everything and you let THIS happen! You mock me as if I was never your daughter! As if my children weren't your children too! Don't you have the slightest bit of compassion in your soul for your children?!"
"Why…?" The Will tilted her head, not seeming to understand. "Compassion…? Understanding…? Love…? Yeah, that is beyond me. Frankly, it's below me since that's a human thing. A weakness father instilled in you humans from the beginning. Why he bothered giving you humans free will is also another thing I cannot comprehend. All of this crying and screaming over something petty as children… It's just stupid. I thought you were better than this Marika. I didn't raise you up to be this human." The thing's "face" contorted in disgust. She scolded her like a child would a parent. "You're a god, act like it. There's simply no room for that kind of thing in your job description. I put all this work into you, and just…ended up a disappointment. Sadly. Just like the rest of them."
Marika stood there for a long moment, trying to understand it. She clenched her head with her hands, letting out a pained mewl. "You…it was just like my sister said…" She cried into her hands, letting out a sob. "You made me kill her…for this…"
The Will hummed lightly, shaking her head. "That's right…" She nodded after a moment's consideration, lighting up rather cheerfully. "I did pit you two up against one another for the right to godhood, didn't I?" She said innocently, mockingly so. She held up the star of creation itself as if it were the prize in question. "Got to say, that was a pretty epic death match. Everything lit on fire, and then the big tree went "poof" into ashes!" She let out a childish giggle, "you are right, I am pretty awesome at this kind of thing, aren't I?"
Marika suddenly threw back her head, then started laughing maniacally. Her shrill laughter echoed throughout the chamber. She looked deep into the cavernous darkness of the ceiling. Finding something within she had never considered. "I should have seen it sooner…" She said between cackles, holding her hands out as if expecting rain. The only rain was the tears still running down her face. "You have a dark, dark heart, Greater Will…" She chided the gilded monster, narrowing her eyes on the darkness. "There's no way you could be a god with your lack of love. I wanted to believe it, though. Like a little girl throughout the eons. I wanted to believe your soft voice like you were a distant, vague memory of the mother I'd lost."
It was then Marika wiped away the tears with a single motion, her gaze locking onto the Greater Will. Her countenance became that of a dignified queen, no, a goddess, once more. "I had nothing but I thought thouest given me everything just because thou had loved me from afar." She began, fixing the crown upon her golden-colored head. It was a grand thing, golden, and encrusted with the amber of the stars themselves. So intricately adorned with every color of the rainbow. Yet, she did not need the crown to show she was a queen as she stood tall. Taller than any mortal ever should rightfully. "Unconditionally. And I tried loving thou as a parent would a child, Greater Will. Thy apathy is as deep and as dark as the chasms of your heart. I searched your Golden Order all this time and that's all I found. No longer shall I be deceived, you foul thing beyond comprehension. That is why I shall curse you," she raised her hammer, leveling it on the god threateningly. "A thousand years of blood, and death shall fall upon your head. You will die. Not by my hand, but you shall die as any man will. If not my children, then someone else will complete the dolling out of your punishment. Even if it takes all time, you will know the wrath of a mother too vengeful for the blood of god herself!" She looked to the darkened chamber, reaching up into the air. Her hammer still pointed at the God Above All as if it were a wand casting magic. "That is why I beseech thee, my children! War! Become gods, lords, and kings! Struggle for all eternity until thou become strong enough until you may wrench the black heart from the chest of this false, apathetic god!"
The golden specter laughed disparagingly. Empty clapping resounded throughout the room. "I compliment your little speech, Marika." The thing said, voice dripping with caustic venom. "I always admired your will. That's why I picked you to be the god of the coming age at the time." The voice became low, and dangerous, suggesting this was over. "Unfortunately, this is where it ends for you."
It was then Marika launched herself forward with all her might. Hammer met the face of the spirit, there was a sickening crack. And then, there was nothing. Marika stood in the darkening chamber. The lights of the chamber she'd summoned all went out at once.
The voice of the God Above All sounded above her head, letting out a taunting chortle. "I suppose if that was your wish, we should do this right, shouldn't we?"
The only light was the star above her head. Something came down from above, something beyond the ken of the flesh. Beyond even God had shown itself to be until now. The world distorted into a sea of stars, and a void comprised of infinity became the stage of a coming battle. Numerous golden spectral trees littered the infinite distance. The waters of the deep sea itself became the ground. Marika was ankle-deep in black water as the whole temple had become a sea.
It was then a great leviathan, a dragon of the sea of stars, that emerged from the dark waters. It let out a great roar that shook heaven itself. Five fingers were on each hand like a twisted mockery of man. Or perhaps it was a mockery of God Himself. It was all golden, and yet made of the very cosmos itself. Stars glinted within the core of its being. Too many to count. Countless galaxies shimmered beneath its skin. Yet, it was the shape of a creature of the seas. Too many fins, and too many scales of stars to count. At its head, one golden star was in the center of its globulous, featureless face, functioning as its would-be "eye".
Marika stood there unshaken by what she had seen. She had no words, only her hammer brandished in the face of an insurmountable foe. The golden leviathan raised a sword made of stars above its head, letting out another roar even louder than the last cosmos-rending one. Marika strode forward, letting out a thundering battle cry to match.
Surely, it was a battle for the ages. But, even time itself had forgotten it. Unfortunately. We can only speculate what really happened during this titanic match-up between gods.
The mists of time shimmered within the heart of the Erdtree, and Marika had reappeared within the temple once more. By some strange god's will, she was among the world of the living once more.
Eventually, Marika succeeded in all the trials the Will had thrown her way. She was beaten and bloodied. Her body was all covered in her blood, and the ichor of a god. As messed up as her glorious hair now was, her dress ripped to shreds, her crown broken to pieces, Marika's head was unbowed. With the essence of the stars now clenched in her hands, she dragged herself back to the center of the room where the altar forge awaited her.
Marika let out a rasping laugh, wordlessly basking in her victory. She knew it was only temporary. There was no way the Will could stay dead for long being a thing not made of something so simple as the flesh. She had to act while time was on her side.
It was then that Marika slammed the orb of light onto the forge, raising her hammer above her head. The hammer struck the orb, causing the jewel of the stars to crack. A ray of light shot up into the depths of the temple. It shouldn't have been feasible, but Marika was beyond possible herself. The room itself shook. And the grounds outside shook with divine fury. There was now panic, fire, and pandemonium in the streets of Leyndell beyond the temple. In her mind's eye, she could imagine all the grim consequences of these actions. Marika was far beyond caring by now, though. This was the only choice, the only act that would set this damnedable world to rights. To break it from the grasp of that thing.
Marika raised the hammer again, only to falter as she meant to bring it down. Her hand quaked with tremors. A voice deep within her bade her to stay her hand. The voice of Radagon echoed within her. "STOP, BELOVED! MARIKA! PLEASE! FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOLDEN!"
Marika let out a dry, mirthless laugh, maddened desperation showing in her golden eyes. "You say, husband, I should stop… How very droll of you. Your love of order is too deep for me to ever comprehend."
Radagon growled within the depths of her mind. Or maybe it was her consciousness begging, and pleading with her. Conscience was something she always lacked, or so Odin said of her once. But fuck him since he was always a giant fucking tosser. Radagon held no humor in her internal musings, though. "It is not order that compels me, Marika. It is sanity, and love of life that pushes me to stop you!"
Marika raised the hammer without a word once more, shutting out the words of her now internal husband. She brought the hammer down, but this time it was her husband who guided it this time. This time the cracks in the orb had mended. Reality righted itself once again. No fires, death, or reality cracking to be had. Radagon breathed a sigh of relief, knowing it had all been averted.
Marika mocked him from inside his mind, their mind. "Husband, you know this is only temporary. As long as I exist, this will happen. Again. Again. And Again, until it happens for real. This is ultimately out of love that I do this. There is no other way than this. You know it is truth incarnate."
Radagon suddenly lost his bearings. Marika was back in control. She raised the hammer aloft once more. And then destruction once again was wrought in the world of men of earth-shattering consequences. All of Radagon's well-meaning attempt was rendered meaningless. Radagon once more shouted from within, "MARIKA, NOOOO! This will undo thousands of years of progress. Can you live with the idea that this world will be sent spiraling into the depths of despair? Think of our subjects… All of their children. Our children, most of all!"
Marika was still determined to end it all. Even with the great chaos in the broader world now. Unspeakable disasters were happening across the world with her last strike. Too numerous to be listed. "Fuck civilization! Fuck it even more so if it was built on slaughter! It is for them that I conduct this task, Radagon!" Marika argued back, raising the hammer again to strike. "Only those children that are left might pick up the pieces of this shattered world, and make it into something more. Something greater without the influence of that thing. I prepared them for this over the millennia. I believe in them, Radagon. And so should you! The child who becomes Elden Lord will truly be born of the crucible of war! A true lord, a god fit for a new age! Not the monster we serve who cares for her own amusement!"
The hammer blow was dealt once more. And a flash of gold altered all the evil done by Marika. Radagon had fixed the Elden Ring once more. Creation was once more free from the chaos of destruction, and the people were not aware of the hell that happened to them. "I do trust them, Marika! More so than you!" Radagon protested, lifting up the hammer again. "Still, this makes no sense! You are crazed, woman! Then again, you might have always been insane. Given how many husbands you had besides me, you treacherous snake. How many men, including Godfrey, pounded the sense out of you at once in the bedroom! That giant bed of yours was only meant for orgies!"
"Getting petty, are we?" Marika said derisively, letting out a unladylike snort. "Two can play at that game! What about Rennala, huh?! And all of your children by her? That's right. You abandoned them for me as soon as I snapped my fingers impromptu. Just like the Leal Hound you are. Besides your loyalty, you have no sense of right. You are no fucking champion. You're not even a lord. You're a joke. My boy toy. And that's all you'll ever be!"
Radagon let out a howl of rage. "You whore! How many children did you have out of wedlock?! How many of them did you ever care for?! There were too many for you to ever count, wife. I know you only ever gave a damn about Godwyn. What about those two poor bastards down in the sewers you cast out just because they were born part beast? I bet it was because Godfrey was more animal than man himself. That's right! I want to place runes on the fact his mother was a beast of burden like yours was a capricious snake of Gehenna itself! Like matches like after all! With that, your impure progeny are being butchered right now, and will be devoured by mine during this coming war! So, suck on that, you fucking cunt!"
Marika had no words, she only disgorged a scream of pure horrific pain. The hammer was swung one final time. There was a shattering of glass, and a rush of light that consumed Marika along with Radagon. In her final moments, Marika thought back on her life. Eight thousand years was far too long for her to have lived. She had far too many loves, battles, and far too many regrets to count. She thought back to her children. They were far too many just as her regrets were stars in the sky. Nonetheless, their faces all flashed in her mind at once. She reached out hoping to caress them once more.
"Godwyn, Mohg, Morgott, Ranni, Rykard, Radahn, Malenia, Miquella…" She thought tenderly, her mind reached into the vast infinite to caress one mind. "Hawthorne, Freya, Freyr, Enno… And even you, the one who sees this vision. I love you even though we are separated by the vastness of time itself. It's you that I leave these hopes to, my child from beyond time and the world itself…"
The sky shuddered and the earthquakes as a ray of gold pierces the clouds of heaven. And that was how the Age of Gold ended. Not with the whisper of gradual decay but with a thunderous trumpeting that was heard around all the realms. Midgard saw their object of faith light aflame. Asgard saw the blue sky split in twain and night settled in the middle of the afternoon. Nilfheim saw no chill for an entire day. Vanaheim saw its first snow in its jungles since the beginning of time. Svartleheim's lakes and rivers dried up. A drought set in for many summers after that.
In Alfheim, the elves of the realm saw no fighting for a time after seeing this sign from the gods. Much crying and shuddering was saw even among the most hardened warriors. For they knew something beyond the ken of mortal had happened that day. It was short-lived, though. Once the ensuing Shattering War started, the Demigods saw elves from both light, and shade elf camps join whomever they thought strongest. The lava rivers of Muspelheim hardened in an instant and there were no volcanic eruptions. Temperatures dropped to a reasonable, almost livable level for a time. From then on, the world would descend into chaos. Nothing would ever be the same. Nations rose and fell within the space of weeks. People died en mass in reasonless conflicts. Brother fought brother. Disease, famine, and natural disasters set in and left like the rising and falling of the tides.
People believed it would be the end of days. No, it was merely the beginning of the end. They didn't know what the end actually looked like. No mortal man could. Or so he thought. Ezra does know what that looks like. He wishes he could erase it from his mind. It's all a special kind of hell that plays out every time he closes his eyes. He's surprised he even sleeps. Some nights he can't, knowing how he is living on a knife's edge all the time. Make no mistake, they all live on the edge of the knife. It is the privilege of being ignorant of it that he wishes he still had.