Work Text:
On the wall of a broken, ruined castle — weathered by time and lost to the memories of men — there hangs a faded tapestry. Woven by some unknown craftsman whose hands were deft and trained, depicted in exquisite detail, intertwined with cords of gold and fiber of the darkest night. It puzzled the historians, asked questions none had answers to, of myths and gods and ancient lore.
For who was that regal figure immortalized in aged cloth, that beast with golden tusks and blood red mantle? Why had he been rendered throughout every inch of the castle, in statues of glory, in tapestries alongside figures with the wings of angels, in grand mosaics of battle and war that spanned the length of hallways? They were works of passion, of hope and praise, done by the willing hands of those truly believing in a god’s power.
They looked for him in the history books, found stories of a god of war and blood. They were few and far between, ancient legends, lost to memory but not quite to time. He was remembered, recorded by those people who had loved him and known him, so that one day someone — anyone — could look for his memory and find it.
Was he still out there, they wondered? Had this old god fallen in one of the battles he was so often shown fighting? Or had he wandered into the world beyond sight and records, where he fought those wars of glory and legend even still? What had become of him, for he simply vanished from paintings and words.
Not mourned.
Just honored.
There was a man somewhere, with eyes older than the earth itself, who joked about an old god leaving to fight the forces of heaven and hell.
There was another, a wanderer and leader, who told stories around campfires of the warrior who taught him honor and pride, how to laugh and how to fight.
And there were others. Kind gods and cruel gods alike, who all spoke fondly of an old friend, or an old enemy. No matter if they had opposed him or fought alongside him, they saw that old god, that old emperor, and they could speak to his courage and his light. Some had never known him, but they had looked upon his work and saw his greatness.
So who was that old god? What had he been, and what would he become? This lost memory, this legend, this grand figure who held up in tapestries and writings and all he had left behind. Who was this god whom so many had praised…
…Who was this man so many had loved…