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In the middle of a war, it is hard to find a moment of reprieve. However, today was one of those days where everything was surprisingly quiet. Perhaps that should have immediately alerted Osial that something was wrong.
He had been on his way towards Sal Terrae, seeking to visit his friend, Havria. He made no attempt to hide his presence, and Havria, being one of the four gods he was most familiar with, should have come out to greet him. But when he arrived, he was met with no warm, shy smile, only an eerie silence. And the smell of death and salt.
Osial furrowed his brow, pace quickening. Entering another god’s abode without permission was usually considered an offense, but he had no time for such things. As he descended down towards the underground city, his mind raced. Havria was a kind god, too kind for her own good. Choosing to yield all of her possessions rather than fight, this was the only safe haven she had left for her people. Guizhong and Morax, along with Osial himself, had often expressed their concerns about this, but there was nothing they could do, for they had their own troubles. However, the high concentrations of salt in the air meant that something must have happened.
When he reached the city, he was greeted with a horrific sight. Mortals, with expressions of fear and shock still etched on their faces, were frozen into statues of pure salt. Most looked like they were struggling to flee, while others were curled up in a fetal position or begging. Men, women, and children alike were petrified, their final moments frozen in time, salt trickling from cracks in the statue that shone like starglitter underneath the few rays of sunlight that managed to reach the underground. The beautiful and lively city that Havria had created for her people had been turned into a dystopian scene framed in salt overnight. However, Osial had no time to dally.
Havria, he thought, steps more urgent than ever. As he flew between the statues towards the center of the once-city, now ruins, his panicked thoughts that something had happened to one of his oldest friends grew more and more prominent. He passed by numerous statues, all carved with fear. Finally, he reached the central hall. There, he saw a scene that remained etched into his immortal mind.
A wave expanded from the center of the room, with more salt statues of mortals who had been unable to escape. Osial wove among the figures, coming to a stop before the center of the room, illuminated with a single ray of light. He felt his blood run cold. His body came to a complete halt as his mind raced to both comprehend and deny the reality in front of him. A single statue stood, lunging forth with sword in hand. And before was a simple pile of salt.
Osial profusely denied it, but he could feel almost too clearly Havria’s remaining essence. The God of Salt, benevolent and kind as she, had been slain. By her own people, no less, whom she had loved more than anything else.
What a cruel joke.
His fear was rapidly replaced with a raging fury, akin to the turbulent waves in a storm. This is what you get for trusting mortals, he thought bitterly. Havria….whether you like it or not, I will avenge you. I will see to it that they pay the price for their betrayal.
Weapon in hand, Osial rose from the seas, nine heads roaring as the sky darkened and the waves churned. He sent a tremendous wave towards the filthy, puny mortals, but just before they were wiped out, the wave was quelled by a sturdy wall of stone. Thunder flashed, and Rex Lapis appeared, draconic form spiralling down from the heavens, scales glowing copper and bronze. “
Why do you protect them, Morax?! Do you know not of what they have done?!” Osial roared. His former brother-in-arms faced him, amber eyes glowing, remaining emotionless as the geo element he presided over. “
They came to me, begging for my protection. I will uphold my contract,” the dragon replied, thundering voice not revealing a hint of emotion. Osial felt the hate in his heart grow stronger. Now he had been betrayed by one of his closest friends as well.
The storm continued to worsen as the two gods fought. Stone spears rained down upon blades of water. Land was devoured by the oceans. Stone cut into the sea. Mortals cowered in fear as the battle grew more and more intense. Osial continued to send cascades of water down upon the traitors, yet each time his attempts at retribution were thwarted by shields of stone. The other adepti and the yaksha who had sworn their loyalty to Morax flew at him from every direction, slashing at his heads. Many were struck down, some of which Osial had even once mentored himself.
Finally, the fatal blow was struck. A massive stone spear pierced through the nine-headed serpent, and he fell. As Osial was sealed beneath the waves, he caught one last glimpse of Morax. The dragon had partially returned to his human form, and he caught of glimpse of something unreadable in the god’s face. Well, no matter.
"I will never forgive!" Osial howled bitterly. “I will carry this grudge. Seal me away if you’d like, but should the day come that I will break free, I will leave none alive!”
The sky cleared a few days after, but remnants of the devastating battle remained. Morax now remained as the last god of four, and later storytellers and poets would recount this tale as one of brilliant and heroic valor, but the truth was that of grief and hatred.
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Now Zhongli watched as his once-brother rose from the seas once again, confronted with the Jade Chamber. Atop the floating palace stood the adepti, the Liyue Qixing, and the ever mysterious traveller. Zhongli watched as Osial had been reduced to nothing more than a monster, all emotion but hatred shed away by the years.
The old stories have long passed, and a new age was inbound. As he threw the salt chalice into the calm seas, he watched as the heirlooms of the Salt God sank into the depths. Long ago, there were four gods, Guizhong, Havria, Osial, and Morax. Now, they are no more.
Rest, my old friend.
The war has ended.