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“You can’t save everyone, nor could I. Nor could we…”
…
Amaurot didn’t shine as brightly as it used to. The Final Days passed and everyday life continued for its citizens as it once was, but eternal masks hid the grief of loss and the fear of the end. No matter how much time passed, the terror of staring into oblivion was still fresh in their minds, but to forget was even worse than that.
“To look, learn and remember.” They spoke and comforted each other, when the burden was too heavy to bear and it was then when Zodiark eased their minds of the weight with the echo of His presence.
Aside from that, things were going well for their star. Thanks to Zodiark the Calamity was halted and with His blessing the lands healed, water flowed and the wind was no longer toxic. Various life forms sprout and evolved. And just as before, through prayer and sacrifice, things will be restored to the way they were and rightfully should be. As such, the Convocation was very busy in preparation for that. They were stewards of order and servants to the benevolent Zodiark and were responsible for decisions of no easy manner.
“When the time comes, we will sacrifice the new life on this star to Lord Zodiark, so that He may return our fallen brethren to us.”
In certain regards their mission turned into an exercise of patience and temperance, Elidibus thought. The new life forms were …often times vexing in their simplicity. What they took for granted was ultimately paid by their sacrifices and what was given, had to be taken back in order to restore order and balance as it once was. It was just a matter of making them understand that simplest of facts.
As the Emissary, he had little difficulties compared to the others when it came to communication, but occasionally even he was starting to feel the underlying agitation his brethren felt. Having just returned from one such diplomatic mission and in the privacy of his office, Elidibus indulged himself in a brief moment of rest and reflection. The gentle lights of the city, the tall spires of Amaurot – it was a sight enough to calm the mind from worry.
He, like the other members of the Convocation, did his part in the grand scheme of things with honor to their people and reverence to Zodiark. Since most of the world was destroyed during the Calamity and despite the fact of its own damaged infrastructure, Amaurot remained as the single center of civilization in the world. Other ancients came as refugees or choose to sink in oblivion.
Therefore most of the outside communication they had to carry out was with the new life forms on their star. Elidibus travelled the land a lot – talking to various settlements and teaching about the ancients, about Amaurot and about Zodiark. After all, if they were to lay down their lives willingly for the greater cause than all the better. The new life forms were sometimes welcoming, but often times skeptical. They doubted his claims of necessity and dared him to showcase Amaurot’s prosperity. He was given various tasks, sometimes mundane errands even, to complete in order to prove himself.
The last tribe he visited was small, barely seven families and lived on the banks of a dried up river. Food and resources were scarce as this part of the land was still deeply scarred by the calamity and recovery was slow. Water was hard to get and therefore treated as a luxury.
“Let us see proof of your abilities, so-called steward of the star.”
Elidibus was tasked with delivering water. The villager elder sneered at him and Elidibus did naught, but smile as he beckoned them outside to the dried up banks. Moments later, half of the village gathered to witness the spectacle – the emissary created a great river and greenery started to sprout around him.
“Do you still doubt my claims or will you finally see reason in my words?” The elder gaped at him and the villagers started whispering among themselves. Afterwards, Elidibus was given reverence as if he was a god, but he felt no joy or satisfaction at the awe directed towards him.
Simple beings fail to understand that such “feats” are something even a child can accomplish.
Afterwards, everything proceeded as it normally did – the villagers agreed to aid them when the time came. Before he could leave however, he was approached by one of the villagers, an exceptional specimen for he towered over his peers and Elidibus even.
“My grandpa once visited your shiny city for medicine. If it wasn’t for you guys, I wouldn’t be here! So take this as a form of gratitude. You ancients probably don’t have this stuff over there.” Elidibus wanted to refuse, but the villager’s cheery tone sounded like he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Plus, courtesy was courtesy and the natives had given him a gift.
Thinking about it again, he recalled the bottle had the same smell most of the villagers had, surrounding them like a foul mist. The liquor was potent. With such a strong beverage, it was little wonder why those beasts constantly fought each other in drunken rage.
In the end even with stability to the star restored, the loss of our brethren is too big to ignore. Which is why we must…
A low alarm beeped, pulling Elidibus out of his thoughts.
“Emet-Selch wishes to speak with you.” An echoing voice spread in his office and Elidibus furrowed his brows in confusion.
“At this hour?” He was caught by surprise. Outside of their Convocation gatherings, meetings between individual members were rare. Especially for someone like Emet-Selch who wasn’t the type to put in unnecessary effort at late hours.
There was a momentary pause, followed by another beep.
“He wishes to speak with you regarding personal manners.”
“Oh?” A second paused, followed by careful consideration. “Let him in.”
The voice grew silent again and after a few moments, the tall doors of his office opened as Emet-Selch let himself in. Slouched.
“Emet-Selch.” Elidibus smiled. “To what do I owe the pleasure of having the most recluse member of the Convocation as my guest?”
“Oh, you know, I didn’t lie to your receiver. How has our dear emissary been? I received a report of your efforts in the North. Flawless as always.” His tone was lazy and his posture was a perfect picture of casual. Idly, he looked out of the tall windows and towards the city’s night sky, as if soaking up the view was more important than the person he was conversing with at present.
Elidibus’ smile thinned.
“Wonderful. I’ve heard you’ve achieved quite a lot as well, but I doubt you, as busy as you are, came here just for idle talk.” Emet-Selch shrugged and finally turned his attention to him.
“I have a proposal to make.”
“Surely it can wait until the next meeting where we may all hear it.” Underneath his mask, Emet-Selch frowned.
“Ah, indeed, but I would like to avoid causing another noisy quarrel, you see…” Now Elidibus’ smile disappeared.
“As expected of the Emissary, always looking beyond petty conflicts and thriving to bring a consensus between two opposing sides.” Mitron told him after Elidibus played the part of a mediator in another debate between him and Lahabrea. It was a herculean task to keep things civil once those two got heated.
“So you’re trying to lobby my support?”
Something was amiss and Elidibus didn’t need acute senses to see that his colleague was clearly troubled by something. Perhaps a scheme of some sort, but it had been centuries since the last time Emet-Selch proposed anything of the sort. After all, his prime agitator was missing.
“Tis no crime to hope, is it?” Emet-Selch shrugged again.
…
Several eras passed since Emet-Selch last saw his friend. After the Convocation of Thirteen, Fourteen at the time, decided to proceed with the Zodiark project, the Fourteenth member left the Convocation, their office and Amaurot altogether.
There was an argument, there always were, but unlike the usual lighthearted bickering and debates about this policy or that academic proposal, emotions ran high and many regrettable things were said.
“Arrogant fool. You dare argue with me about the loss of life and make reckless promised of a solution in the wake of complete annihilation?”
“We did what we had to do”? Is that what you’re going to preach to comfort yourself of the guilt?”
Honesty masked in brutal words, bruised egos and wounded friendships, in the end his friend disappeared in the wake of the Final Days. Emet-Selch, understandably too occupied in the afterwards, didn’t have the time nor energy to spare for a search. In fact, so occupied was he, that ever since His summoning, he scarcely had time to relax, let alone the ‘pleasure’ of exploring the renewed with life star. Being severely understaffed aside, his bureau bore the brunt of the aftermath of the calamity. Many new regulations had to be put in place, to which some Amaurotines argued were in excess, but reminding them of the past silenced all opposition. Their powers of Creation spiraled out of control, the massive loss of life…despite what they naysayers claimed, it was all thanks to Zodiark that civilization survived.
Such were the ongoings in Amaurot and perhaps, a part of him, a small part of him wished for a breather or at least some way to escape the city just for a bit when he talked to Elidibus about the prospect of bringing his friend back in the Convocation.
“I saw fit to find support for my cause from the most well-meaning member of the Convocation.”
“Are you certain that you will be able to find their whereabouts?” Emet-Selch almost snorted at the emissary.
“Who else but me can? In the name of Lord Zodiark, I promise I will do my utmost to convince our friend to reclaim their office and join us.”
As opposed to Amaurot, a city so busy and overwhelming that it sometimes seemed oppressing in its mighty beauty, the wild plains and forests of their renewed star were almost depressingly simple. Life surrounded him in abundance and as he followed his friend’s trail, almost as if it was guiding him to witness. But the more he saw, the more he was convinced that the Convocation’s decision was the right one.
The village he eventually stopped at was surrounded by a thick forest. Underneath the blanket of fragile souls spread across him, there was a mighty presence. Hiding from him was futile and they should know that best.
“Greetings, natives.” He performed an elegant bow and smiled out of courtesy. His frame towered over the small creatures that slowly wobbled towards him. “I’m looking for a fellow ancient, have you seen them around? Almost as tall as me, wears robes and a mask.” Emet-Selch gestured to himself for emphasis.
The creatures were humanoids, but very much beasts in nature. They looked up to him with gleaming, big eyes and mouths opened in wonder. For the longest period of time they just wordlessly stared at him.
“A friend?” Eventually one of them, perhaps an elder, asked him. Emet-Selch was surprised to find that these primitive life forms not only spoke, but also understood more complex social structures like friendship.
“Yes, a friend.” But the pleasant surprise quickly gave way to disappointed as these pitiful creatures continued staring at him with hollow eyes. Just as Emet-Selch was prepared to consider it a lost cause and leave, the elder opened its mouth again.
“Outside the village. A cave.”
Incredibly helpful. Emet-Selch decided not to push his luck with further communication. He thanked them and shuffled out of the village.
To his even greater surprise, the elder’s instructions were actually correct - no sooner that he walked out into the forest when he saw a great cave’s entrance digging into the cliffs. The cave, Emet-Selch had little doubt of its artificial origin, radiated with faint traces of aether.
Emet-Selch hastily made his way in.
“You haven’t used your magic in a long time. It certainly wasn’t easy to find you.” He complained once he found himself in what appeared to be a makeshift workshop. There were various scratched shelves and clutter scattered around the cave’s chamber as if a storm had passed through.
The comment was partially a jest. Compared to those savages in their tiny village, whose presence was a mere candlelight, his friend’s soul was like the sun – bright and blazing, radiating warmth.
His friend didn’t turn to greet him. They were fiddling with some kind of primitive contraption. Their form was hunched over a wooden worktable, seated on a crooked chair. They wore a plain black robe, torn at its edges, and caked with mud boots. The only outside characteristic that could link this individual to their own position in the Convocation was the very unique mask on their face.
Plus the colour of their soul, but not everyone was as savant at sensing those details as Emet-Selch. The vibrant picture before his eyes – too much time had passed since he last saw that distinct colour.
“I see you’ve kept yourself very busy as always. Wherever you passed, the various tribes entered an Age of Prosperity.” He took comfort in the fact that in certain regards his friend hadn’t changed despite the tragedies and despite their self-imposed exile.
In many regards, his friend was a jack - a problem solver, who took care of all manner of inquiries with seriousness and devotion. From the smallest of problems to world-threatening conflicts, there was little they couldn’t achieve or fix. They were often and somewhat lightheartedly scolded by other Convocation members for being a tinker who spend too much time on the mundane. However, it was precisely because of their resourcefulness and willingness to take on any challenge, no matter how absurd or impossible, that they were elected and respected as a member of the Convocation.
There was also a very practical side to them and it was something Emet-Selch could relate to.
“What, now? Giving me the silent treatment? If you don’t want me here, mayhap I should just leave.” The smile on his lips turned wry. It was halfway a threat. If his friend didn’t want to talk to him then he was just going to try later and—
“Hades.”
“We’re switching back to names now? I know we’re not in Amaurot, but it’s been a while since I last called you—“
A tiny chuckle echoed in the workshop before he could finish. His friend stood up on their feet and walked up to their guest. They both greeted each other with a firm handshake and Emet-Selch eased his mind. In certain regards, things really were just like old times. Just like the good times.
"It's been a while, my friend. I am happy to see you." Under the mask, his friend smiled warmly and Emet-Selch couldn’t help, but smile as well.
"Likewise."
I missed you. I missed our debates with Hythlo—
“What brings you to these parts, my friend?” The ancient retreated back to their worktable and invited Emet-Selch to sit beside them and chat. However, Emet-Selch cursed his mind for he was unable to brush off the reason he came here in the first place.
“Unfortunately, I’m not here for a social call.” He started out carefully. He moved closer to his friend and peeked over their shoulder to see what they were working on, only to deem it not important enough to occupy them from the conversation.
“Is that so?” His friend feigned ignorance, busying themselves with their contraptions again. It was some type of primitive tool, Emet-Selch realized. His friend was mending tools of the land.
“It’s incredibly hard to find another capable individual like us. Like you.” Emet-Selch pressed on. His friend’s hand momentarily paused. It was the briefest of gestures that didn’t escape Emet-Selch’s eyes. His misgivings weren’t the only ones.
“I suppose not many were left…” After the Doom. After the sacrifice. After the restoration.
“So with that in mind, I came to personally deliver a formal invitation for you to return to he Convocaton of-“
“You remained as thirteen? I regret to tell you that I cannot help with that.” Emet-Selch sighed and his shoulders slumped. His friend could be so exasperatingly stubborn. It was a trait that not even the apocalypse could beat out of him. “Why don’t you take a walk with me? I doubt you see much exercise in your office and the calmness of nature might help ease your mind.”
Emet-Selch frowned. His friend was too nosy too. Changing old habits was hard and Emet-Selch wasn’t a person who enjoyed physical exertion, unlike them, but…
“Mayhap I could do with some inspiration.” As always, it was hard to refuse an invitation from them plus the walk would give him precious time to think of how to convince his friend to come back to Amaurot.
The path up the mountain was obscured from sunlight by thick tree shades. Cool wind was gently blowing their black robes. Occasionally Emet-Selch tripped on a rock or a root and his friend chuckled. He was happy that the mask and hood hid his stupefied expression for the most part.
“I did not know this much time passed since you were last outside.”
During their walk, his friend talked at lengths about the local wildlife. Emet-Selch simply nodded along listlessly as they fervently went on and on about the tiniest of progress any of these primitive life forms accomplished. He didn’t really care nor want to listen about those creatures, but it was better than his friend’s usual brooding silence.
“There is a well nearby. It sustained the village before it got tainted.” They explained when Emet-Selch inquired whether they were walking around aimlessly.
“Is that so?”
“I’m going to go and purify it so the villagers can water their crops this planting season and the many more to come.” He had to admit that his friend’s excitement was contagious and Emet-Selch found himself a tiny bit invested in their little journeys development.
When they reached their destination, the sun was descending from the highest point of the sky. The well was hidden deep in the forest and if he wasn’t guided by his friend, Emet-Selch never would have found it on his own. The ancients peered down the well, Emet-Selch squinting to see well and his friend stoic under the mask.
“This might take a while so you could take a nap if you want.” They looked up to him and Emet-Selch internally rejoiced at the preposition.
“You know me too well!” He sat down at the base of nearby tree, leaning back and trying to make himself comfortable. The cool shade and the gentle sound of the rustling leaves provided the perfect conditions for the ideal nap, but instead of dozing off, Emet-Selch’s eyes remained open as he continued observing his friends work.
As he watched, he wasn’t sure what to make of their work. When they spoke about the severity of the situation and how much the various forest dwellers suffered, Emet-Selch was expecting a more grand solution that...lulling the forest spirits to sleep. Murky waters turned clear. The forest became quieter and more welcoming, but his friend’s solution was a temporary one.
“Creating a new well would have been a simpler solution.” Emet-Selch commented when the ritual was over. His friend put a hand under their chin in thought before turning to look at him.
“Surely that would be your solution as the architect.”
His lips formed a wry smile and Emet-Selch couldn’t help but sit up from his position to protest. Old bugger. He did have the tendency to overdo it and he definitely would’ve done so much more for these wild creatures to improve their quality of life.
“It’s not my fault their settlement leaves much to desire.” He then went on and on about how little protection they had in their village or abysmal their sanitation was. With such poor condition, how was his friend to expect any feasible development?
At the end of his rant, his friend simply smiled warmly at him.
“You’ve changed, but in a lot of way you’re still you.”
“Have all of us not changed?” Emet-Selch scoffed. “After the Final Days, how could we not?”
“Yes. A change is what is needed...” He didn’t like the way his friend’s words trailed off. It reminded him too much of their argument before Zodiark’s summoning.
When news of doomsday came, the Convocation put all of their efforts into finding a solution. Eventually they came to the decision to imbue their star with a will. It was hard to make said decision, because of the immense sacrifice it required, but as the Final Days drew nearer and neared they realized they didn’t have alternatives, so thirteen out of fourteen were in agreement.
His friend doubted the effectiveness of their plan and opposed the sacrifices, but every word and every argument against was mercilessly shot down as time grew closer and closer.
“If so many souls are required then I volunteer myself as well.” They offered in the end. As a member of the Convocation of Fourteen, each of them possessed powers to create that which no normal Amaurotine can make. Therefore…
“No. Your position as a member of the Convocation bares too much responsibilities. To survive the aftermath of this cataclysm we can’t afford to lose powerful individuals.” Emet-Selch was too stunned to object, so Lahabrea was the first one to shoot down their terrible proposal.
Lahabrea was confident in the plans success, but he was also one to realize that because of the damage their star sustained their work wasn’t over. The scholars were already hard at work with ensuring the world survives the calamity and past it. Yet his friends continued argue about the problem in front of their nose instead of focusing on the future as well.
After that meeting, the Fourteenth member resigned from their position and there was a verbal spat in the tall hallways of the Capitol.
“There are other ways…Ones which do not require so many sacrifices.” His friend told him, but Emet-Selch had grown too tired to listen, just as they had grown too tired to argue. They left and at the bottom of his heart, Emet-Selch hoped that his friend’s words were correct, that there was another way. He even indulged by waiting. And waiting. He waited up until the Final Days, but the promised solution was nowhere to be seen and the rest was history. In the end, his friend failed as did they.
There were no heroes. This wasn’t a fairytale in which things magically worked out and there wasn’t a happy ending. At the cost of countless lives, the apocalypse was halted and at the cost of many more, they managed to restore life to their star.
Was it not their duty to also return thing as they were given the opportunity?
“They forget that the Convocation is bound by a great responsibility. As caretakers of the star we must make difficult decisions. Decisions which not everyone is fit to make.” Lahabrea told him after the second sacrifice. Despite his harsh words, there was no malice in his tone, only a sense of understanding and accountability. The old man understood the reasoning behind the resignation of the Fourteenth.
Emet-Selch could offer no words to him in answer. Lahabrea and almost the entire Convocation were witnesses to their spat and despite the embarrassment, at the time he had been too hurt and betrayed to care about his wounded pride and volatile reputation.
“Do not let it weight down on your consciousness. It will dull not just your senses, but your mind as well.”
“With wise words such as these, tis little wonder why you’re praised so highly as an orator.”
Back to the present, Emet-Selch closed his eyes momentarily and the relief of the darkness behind his eyelids was staggering. Reminiscence of the past turned was turning into a constant.
“Do you still want to marvel at nature’s beauty or do you wish to return?” His friend beckoned him and Emet-Selch listlessly followed.
The way back was silent save for the echoing sound of the rustling leaves. By the time they reached the cave, the sun sank lower and lower in the horizon and it wouldn’t be long until it was gone. In the quiet workshop, Emet-Selch approached his friend again.
“So your answer hasn’t changed?”
“Not in the slightest.”
“A pity…” He expected the disappointed to be greater, but by that point acceptance was easy to welcome in his hollowed heart.
“I have taken quite a liking to …adventuring. Mayhap I am reckless, but I find this very gratifying. It also serves as a reminder of our responsibilities to the star.”
Emet-Selch gave them a tired sigh and his shoulders slumped.
“I know it’s hard for you to be there…sometimes it’s hard for me too.” Amaurot was ever a beautiful city, but nowadays it felt too empty. The streets were more barren, the halls silent and the lights in the night sky less. “We lost too many, but we have a duty to uphold. With Zodiark we can—“
“More sacrifices?” His friend’s voice was carefully leveled to neutral, but the inner turmoil upon mentioning that topic as easy to sense. Emet-Selch refrained from answering immediately, but judging by the lowered head his friend didn’t need a verbal confirmation.
“Not exactly...We plan to sacrifice the new life on this star so that He may bring back those we lost during His summoning.” His friend’s expression remained the perfect definition of a poker face. They didn’t say anything which worried Emet-Selch the most. Their brooding silence was the worst after all. “It will be just like before. You, me and Hythlodaeus discussing concepts until sunrise…”
“Hythlodaeus is gone.” Their tone was cold and their hands tightened into a fist. “You realize this won’t stop, right? Zodiark will consume more and more until there’s nothing left. Just like our creation magic did.”
“Mayhap so, but knowing that we can bring back those we lost, I won’t hold back. I can’t.”
His friends fist unclenched and relaxed. Their shoulders slumped as well and Emet-Selch realized that he had taken a threatening step forward.
“Determination was one of your best qualities…”
“As was resilience yours.” He quipped back.
“Those that are no longer here…Those that were lost…They sacrificed their lives so that we remain as caretakers of the star and it is our responsibility to take care of this star. They did it for us and for our future, not for our past.”
The past, the present, the future. With their adamant souls able to withstand the passing of eons, how much did the passage of time matter? Just how taxing was eternity for those whose anguish still burned in their breast? And what was loss to beings who could will almost anything into existence?
“For those we have lost. For those we can still save.” The former Convocation member continued and Emet-Selch didn’t like the subconscious conclusion his friend was guiding him towards.
Tradition in Amaurot was important. It was evident in the robes they wore, the mask they carried and the titles they accepted. Laws rarely changed and the system worked. Their society was a constant, but everything was peaceful and everyone was happy.
But then the Final days happened …And they didn’t want to forget. They didn’t want to abandon those that they lost.
“To look, learn and remember.”
“As members of the Convocation of Fourteen, our duty is to serve for the good of all people.” His friend told him once.
Emet-Selch grit his teeth.
“Then you claim that despite having the power to do so, we shouldn’t try to bring back those we lost?” Hiding behind the mask, his friend was too shocked to say anything, but it didn’t matter. Emet-Selch didn’t give them time to retaliate with an argument as he took another threatening step forward. Grief mixed with anger was stronger than Zodiark’s tempering. “You’re terribly selfish, my dear friend.”
His tone turned low and mocking. It had been thousands of years since Emet-Selch felt such vexation. Not even when his friend cowardly left the Convocation in the wake of His summoning.
Hades was there to witness. He saw the star turn against them. He saw Amaurot burn and crumble. He saw the souls return to the Underworld – countless souls of those he knew and those he regretted never knowing. After the calamity was halted, for a period of time the gates remained opened as more and more souls passed on. It was those who couldn’t survive in the new poisonous world, those who succumbed to their illness and those who couldn’t live with the grief.
And then there was Zodiark…
Zodiark was born from desperation. He emerged from chaos and flames, tempered by violent fears. With His might, He withstood waves of destruction and ascended victorious as the star’s savior. Then he carved the land and mountains, filled the cauldrons of their oceans and healed the barren lands so that they could sustain life again.
Seeing such might and such unimaginable power that even they, the Convocation as a whole, could never ever hope to possessed, how were they not to bow down in reverence to Him? He gave their star its form and as His servants, it was not only their duty, but a honor to ensure their star was as it rightly should be. By His will.
If only his friend was there too witness His grace as well…
“I understand why you avoided your responsibilities back then, but I won’t forgive you for standing by idly when you know full well that we can fix things and brick it back to the way it was.”
Coward. Traitor. Despite the maelstrom in his heart threatening to boil over, his friend remained a wall of stoicism and that just annoyed Emet-Selch even more.
“What? No words?” He provoked, but they didn’t yield. Emet-Selch exhaled patience long since running out. Given the choice to pick between his people or these primitive life forms, he would pick his people every time without regret. “Very well then, remain here with these little pets you’ve grown so attached to, but where you failed, we’ll succeed. We will fulfil our responsibilities and save our people.”
“Hades, that’s going too far--” The sentence fell on deaf ears. Emet-Selch was already stomping out of the cave and his friend knew there was very little he could say to soothe his soul and calm his anger. Hades was out of their reach.
In the lonesome, growing darkness of their temporary workshop, the former Convocation member put a hand under their chin in thought.
“As members of the Convocation of Fourteen, our purpose is to serve for the good of all people.”
The Convocation was going to do a terrible thing and continue the cycle of sacrifice. The loss of life was going to grow greater and greater and there was no guarantee that Zodiark could even bring them back. A soul was the most precious thing in existence – no matter how much they tried, nobody could create one, nor could they bring them back from the Underworld.
“We plan to sacrifice the new life on this star so that he may bring back those we lost during His summoning.” …And if they were to judge his friend’s words, perhaps deep down even Hades realized that Zodiark was flawed. He may be almighty, but He was nothing more than a concept which consumed His followers for aether to live. They had to stop Him, but what was one ancient, branded an outcast, to do?
Nevertheless, they didn’t want to give up. Their mind started thinking for a solution – thoughts and ideas rotating around their head…
Mayhap there are like-minded individuals. Mayhap together they could oppose the Convocation and stop their false god, but to fight a being as power as Him, they would need a miracle.
…Until it overwhelmed them and they were forced to sit back on their chair least they collapse. They rested for a moment, removing their mask and rubbing their eyes and forehead to try to calm the growing headache.
A miracle…Mayhap a miracle born of hope and not from despair?