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Cold.
Ajun stood in front of the gateway, a thousand thoughts marching through his head, and the only one which clung was how unnaturally cold it was.
In contrast to the familiar greenery of Askroth, the gateway had almost…imposed its harsh blue facade on the area. In defiance of that overwhelming intrusion, however, stood the city’s entire cadre of Spirit-Weavers, numbering in the hundreds, on all sides. Together they had been meditating to sense what might be on the other side.
It had been eight weeks since the initial rumblings, seven since the visions incapacitated the Spirit-Weavers, and six since the gateway began forming.
It had tired Ajun, World-Bearer as he was, to be forced to entertain a vast spectrum of speculation, from the five different sects arguing that their respective apocalyptic prophecies were coming true, to the expected fears of another warlord, or even the more creative belief that the Spirit World was merging with the Giving World.
As reasonable or unreasonable all of these theories were, Ajun felt that the truth was much simpler, though he could not offer any justification other than the cold certainty he felt staring down the rift. From just the way its four dominant shades of blue oscillated, it was unlike anything he had witnessed on Naragun.
To him and the people he served, such colors were often used in the arts to emphasize the true inner peace that comes from detachment, a theme he was particularly fond of. But the way the rift reverberated, pulsing as a violent storm of winding water it contrasted with his favored blues. It was wrong.
In recent days the Master Spirit-Weaver revealed she managed to manifest a clearer vision of what lay on the other side. She spoke of a monolithic being, more than three times larger than their tallest mountains, that graced landscapes seemingly made of waves upon waves of figures. It was reminiscent of the wondrous old tales of days gone by, of the time of only the Givers.
Unfortunately, the Master was unable to discern any clear intent or even vague alignment of the being and its supposed subjects. All she could confirm was that it was taking great effort for it to march here.
Hoping to stand honest but not worry his people, Ajun merely told the wider populace that the Spirit-Weavers detected travellers from distant lands were approaching Naragun. The information had confused many, for many had never entertained the thought of there existing anything other than Naragun. Two worlds? Why would the Givers require the creation of any worlds other than Naragun?
The younger folk were more open and eager to these ideas however, and many had erected tents near the gateway to not miss a single second of what was to come.
As he was about to retire from his makeshift on-site office to hopefully delight in one hour of sleep, the Spirit-Weavers began to scream.
In only a heartbeat, the rift exploded in diameter, obfuscating the sky and horizon for those in front, and a cold wind blew through the main street of Askroth, with such intense pressure that every encampment of tents in the vicinity were whisked away, leaving only frozen people in their place.
Although Ajun was not in the path of the current, he felt its temperature nonetheless, and it was quickly lowering.
But then it stopped.
Rumblings began, just like the ones that predated the portal, and the portal throbbed harder as a great shadow took form in its eye.
Soon, that shadow was a silhouette, and then…flesh.
A blue giant had strode through, which Ajun was only able to register when the being stopped a few steps from the portal. Fighting his fear back with all of his will, Ajun stood ready to intervene. But the strangest thing happened. The giant gave a kindly smile.
“Greetings, honorable beings of Naragun!” it boomed. “It brings me great joy to finally bear witness upon your lovely world. I…”, it took a moment to pause, “am Saradomin!”
Naragi from all over the realm had gathered around the site, and could respond with nothing but shock and awe. Saradomin’s eyes, however, seemed to be expecting a sort of recognition. When it was clear none was coming, he frowned for a moment then gave a hearty chuckle.
“I see word of my achievements has not yet spread all over the cosmos. No matter, that is paltry to what I am here for. May I speak to the leader of your great civilization? Surely he must be here?”
Ajun rushed outside of his office and stopped a mere stone’s throw from the giant. Saradomin seemed able to sense his urgency, for despite all the rustling and murmurs that masked the sounds of his movement, the giant peered down at him.
Ajun fought through the immense pressure that the giant’s expectant glare inspired in him, and dared to speak.
“That would be me. I am World-Bearer Ajun of Naragun. F-forgive me, but I would like to ask you the reason for your presence on our world. We have seen nothing of the likes of you, and even the suggestion of your arrival has long left our people reasonably…”, he paused. “Afraid”.
Saradomin bowed his head in understanding. “I can see that, it is only natural. I have come across many worlds such as yours, and usually receive… similar greetings. The best way to describe mineself would be simply as a God, one who has come to your world to aid you in your myriad of troubles and hardships.”
Murmurs spread throughout the onlooking crowd. A God? Could he be one of the Givers? Could there be anything other than the Givers?
Ajun turned his head ever so slightly in confusion, and made sure to choose his words very carefully so as to not upset the blue giant.
“A bold claim. On this world, we worship a multitude of deities that we refer to as The Givers. They are the ones who enacted great change through untold sacrifice of their own powers. It is they who we have to thank for our verdant fields and docile wildlife. In contrast, you are clearly unfamiliar with Naragun, and you do not match any of the descriptions in our scriptures, so forgive us for being incredulous at your claims of godhood.”
Ajun’s heartbeat quickened as he considered which of his statements could be misconstrued as a slight upon the alleged deity.
But to his repeated surprise, the giant stood poised. Noble, but almost haughty. This time, its voice, though attempting a calm tone, rang with verberations that ever so slightly rose Ajun’s furs.
“Yes, such polytheism is common in the universe. Oftentimes it is frankly unfounded, but when it is not, the deities in question are usually hardly worth the stories. Still, I do not mean to cast insult upon your beliefs, for if there are other Gods here then they must have accomplished a wonderful achievement.”
Although Saradomin’s voice echoed in ways he could not fully fathom, Ajun felt a dishonest acquiescence to his own faith. However, such misgivings were clearly not worth further dialogue with Saradomin. Despite the shortness of their interaction thus far, the World-Bearer knew Naragi society and culture would hinge on this day for eons, and Ajun would strive to ensure it thrived. Thankfully, the being seemed capable of being reasoned with.
Before he could respond though, Saradomin clasped his arms behind his back, and spoke with clear authority.
“Indeed, I am not a god of creation, nor one of destruction. I was a mortal, much like all of you, who fate had chosen to reward the universe with the will of the divine.”
The being’s crown - how he had been so enraptured by the size of Saradomin as to not notice the crown, Ajun couldn’t tell - briefly pulsed with an ethereal glow.
“I come an inconceivable thread of planes away from your Naragun, and among each one I have walked I have made it my duty to liberate or uplift every society I found, just as I did on mine own world.”
Saradomin stood taller and raised his arms in a giving gesture, a strange power emanating from his palms into the air in front of him, forming a strange window in reality, but not a gateway. Through it, the Naragi saw an image of environments and buildings, of shapes and proportions alien to anything he had ever seen, before the image shifted to even more magnificent structures that replaced the previous ones.
The image switched again, this time to a different environment and cityscape, and Ajun quickly realized he was seeing different versions of the same few locations.
“See how I have transformed all of these worlds I have graced into prosperous cultures, with prosperous peoples.”
The images turned to mirages of Naragi-shaped beings, but bizzarely without fur or scales. Across the worlds, Ajun saw these white-clad creatures as they serenely walked around their cities, aiding people, fighting for justice, meditating to cast powerful magic. Saradomin described the vast number of worlds he chose to show.
“Here you can see the regimes of Dornae overthrown by the oppressed. There, the teeming world of Aarkeld, with a populace that has long forgotten hunger, injustice, disease.” Saradomin continued to describe the vast number of worlds he chose to show, as the Naragi murmured amongst each other on if what they saw was real.
“And lastly Teragard, my homeworld, a realm with a great many people and arcane sciences. The gifts my world gave were harnessed by fools to divide it into hundreds of squabbling nations vying for mere flecks of power. But when I ascended I organized it into a singular power with a singular directive: peace. Its frigid temperatures now stand in opposition to the warmth and love I have bestowed.”
The mirage faded as Saradomin slowly brought his arms back down his side.
“I hope you see clearly that I mean only the best for you. If you need no more convincing, we can start right away. I can begin educating the best and brightest of you so that you may in turn spread my wisdom across Naragun, and within mere years, your world will enjoy the splendour of all my kingdoms.”
Ajun realized he was caught off guard from the images, one step back from his original position, and returned to his poised stature to reply properly.
“I must admit, you show lovely images. Indeed, your kingdoms, as you call them, look more prosperous than I could have imagined possible. Still, you must understand that you are imposing yourself on the lives and wills of many who do not desire it. I cannot speak of the other worlds, for perhaps revolution was necessary there, but Naragun has been blessed with peace for centuries. There is nothing you could offer us, for we have no needs anymore.”
Ajun and Saradomin surveyed the crowd, of which the older folk, with millennia of wisdom, were nodding and murmuring in agreement, while the younger folk, of a paltry half a dozen centuries at best, remained enraptured by the gaze of Saradomin. The God seemed to notice this, and kept his cool demeanor.
“So you say, but much of your youth seem curious of the benefits I shall bring. Besides, know that I have lived for countless centuries. I have observed every society that results from mortals being left to their own devices”. He lowered his head in a slight sadness.
“Even disregarding the tyrannical or primitive, no society had a truly happy populace. With mortals, there will always be crime, greed, and hate. Nothing without divine will can reach anything close to perfection. I am certain even Naragun too has flaws, ones that you may not even realize, having grown numb to them throughout your history.”
He returned his gaze to Ajun’s. “Surely, your world must have some measure of hate, of suffering, of injustice. Something that could be easily snuffed out by one such as myself.”
Ajun was tempted to lie, if it meant this self-imposing deity would leave and never return. However, staring down the wrinkled and bearded harsh cerulean face of Saradomin, Ajun had no doubts that the God could detect dishonesty, whether with his strange magicks or otherwise. Even a mortal such as he, having lived for nearly 10 millennia, had gained that skill through intuition alone. Time. I wonder how old he truly is?
Ajun brushed the thought aside for now and decided to speak decisively as well as truthfully, for unfortunately even his prosperous Naragun was not free from suffering.
“You are correct. Our history has not always been a kind one. It took many wars, deaths, and divine revelations for us to develop the society that has served us as best as we serve it.” Coming to Ajun’s mind were the recent warlords of the past few centuries, and Ajun knew better than to hide that.
“We have also had to contend with warlords from distant regions of the world, who, in the face of many disasters and plagues, believed we sacrificed too much to thrive. They rallied those of us, who were weak of will and heart, and tried to upend our proven ways of life”.
Saradomin gave a slight smirk, but quickly hid it. “You see now? Nothing is per-”
Ajun cut him off.
“But we survived. And made it through with even stronger bonds than before.”
He beckoned his Honour Guard and Spirit-Weavers, as well as many of the older civilians, to stand closer to him. They crowded around him, standing in solidarity with the World-Bearer.
“You must understand, Naragi culture is one of sacrifice, of giving even at the expense of self. Men and women everywhere rallied together against those aggressors, without even being asked to. They voluntarily took up arms, thinking both of their loved ones and of the greater good.”
Ajun rose his voice to remind his people of their successes.
“One such warlord was redeemed through the love that we fought for, and surrendered. After serving his sentence, he is now the Captain of my Honour Guard. Our world is not in need of saving, for we save each other”.
Saradomin seemed amazed at the tale, and allowed a brief moment of silence to pass, leading Ajun to hope that maybe he appealed to the honest good within the deity, who could then see fit to leave.
A minute of pondering was what it took before Saradomin felt roused to respond.
“My heart breaks to hear of the sacrifices your people have made. But you must see now, there is no reason why there should even be a need to make those sacrifices. My worlds are perfect. There is virtually no crime, no radicalization, no false beliefs, no disagreement. Don’t you understand? With my guidance and protection, there will never be a need for your people to stretch themselves thin trying to save and provide for everyone around them. I can give each Naragi a single, immutable purpose that, as long as they follow it, will ensure everlasting prosperity for your world.”
Ajun sensed a growing anxiety, both within himself and scores of the Naragi. The Spirit-Weavers talked with each other, debating the capabilities of the God before them. They shared the World-Bearer’s beliefs that such intervention was unnecessary. In truth, the prospect of such massive change shook Ajun to his core. What would need to be done to ensure such “prosperity”?
“How then? How would you “uplift” our society, our people? What needs to be given? As I said, we already give each other everything. We live long, long lives and our world is large, fertile, abundant in all aspects. Not a speck of the dirt beneath our feet lacks the nutrients needed to grow crops. We have treated this world as best we could, and it treats us just as well in turn. A Naragi’s flexibility is their greatest tool, and has allowed our world to flourish for ages.”
Ajun took a half step forward.
“I do not see what you would do to us other than snuff out independent thought and impose hierarchies and roles we do not need”.
Saradomin frowned, and for the first time Ajun sensed an iota of anger in the God. He steeled himself against an expected fury.
“You show the breadth of mortal selfishness”, he said bluntly. “You think because all of you give and give that your world is as good as it should be? You think your sacrifices mean you to all be pure of heart? You betray yourself, “world-bearer”, by not striving for better heights. You are simply afraid of change, which is what is needed to create something truly special. Your world is indeed happy and successful, yes, but it pales in comparison to all of the worlds I have graced, especially my own.”
Ajun’s resolve began to waver in the face of the God’s unrelenting persistence. Could Saradomin be right? They both valued their age as the source of their wisdom, but what if Ajun’s had made him complacent? What if there was something better?
“You yourself have said your world faces warlords, environmental disasters, and disease. I do not need my divine magic to see that you try so hard to invalidate my wisdom that you give away all the flaws of your world. Again, I have lived undoubtedly longer lives than any of you. I have had ages to refine my methods, the values and beliefs I preach. Something afforded only to the immortal. Because of this, my people have entered enlightenment.”
The mood in the air changed, and Ajun could sense that even some of the older Naragi were in doubt over their own beliefs. Why was he shivering?
“I have observed your world for some time now, and I notice your people often spread themselves thin trying to fulfill many roles at once. Caretakers, farmers, builders, doctors. You sacrifice too much. But there is a solution. Allow me to bestow just a shred of my wisdom”.
Everyone, even Ajun, waited in wanting anticipation.
“Morality is innate, and proportional to the worth everyone can provide. That in itself is measurable and identifiable. Every being has equal capacity for good and evil, requiring a certain level of control to ensure the latter never comes to pass. You all have singular roles that you would best serve with each other. I can lower your burdens, while simultaneously improving what your society yields as a whole. To choose to stagnate invites eventual ruin, and then what would be the functional difference from evil? I beg of you all. Listen to me. You trap yourself in too much pain. I can free you.”
Ajun grew angry.
“We do not need to be freed, “God”! I notice how you like to indulge in your age and supposedly infinite sagacity. But I have lived long too, I know what age sounds like. I have lived near a dozen millennia, and I can tell you have not lived even half that time”.
Saradomin glared. His crown pulsed again, this time quicker.
“You are not the only one that time has afforded a measure of wisdom. Even my young captain can vouch for me here that your words echo those of the warlords that have plagued us and only caused additional suffering”.
Saradomin’s entire form shifted as he grew furious and cried out.
“DO NOT COMPARE ME TO A SIMPLE POWER-HUNGRY MORTAL!” His voice shook the very earth they stood on to such a great extent that people started crying out in fear. Saradomin noticed this and attempted to calm down, to limited success.
“Of all the rulers I have encountered, not a single one has been as arrogant as you to think they knew better than I. Your title is vain and deceiving, and you have no idea what it is like to truly bear the very world and all those of it”.
Ajun walked forward and beckoned his Honour Guard to stand ready. “I ask you now once and never again. Leave, and do not return. We do not need you”. Fear was all he could feel, but that only motivated his resolve more.
Saradomin took a breath so deep it reversed the air currents and sucked what little warmth remained in the air of Askroth itself.
“You cannot comprehend the will of the divine. Not yet. But soon you will, and you will thank me”.
He gestured to the portal, and thousands of shadows began to form inside it. Naragi all around, except for Ajun and his Honour Guard, ran hundreds of meters back to view from a safe distance.
Out of the gateway walked armies of bright-blue armored soldiers beneath a winged leader whose armor seemed to shimmer all on its own. Ajun could tell that many different species must make up different squadrons and battalions, for creatures of different shapes and sizes were clearly segregated in rigid squares of troops, each group wearing differently shaped armors, the smaller ones clearly thinner while the larger and leaner ones much thicker.
The leader of Saradomin’s armies, a large male adorned in gold-trimmed azure armor, elegantly strode up to Saradomin’s side and stood ready. His gaze was as cold and sharp as his numerous weapons.
Saradomin spoke gently.
“I had hoped this could have been more amenable. But sometimes learning requires a forced hand”.
Saradomin, God of peace, turned to his general and gestured to Ajun.
“Subdue the leader and his men as peacefully as you can. Have the scouts report back with their geographical assessments so that we may send Instructors and Inquisitors to every major city. A simple show of force will be enough to ensure our benevolence will go unabated”.
“Of course, Kyrios. Your will be done”, replied the General.
Saradomin stood firm as his armies began to spread out across the streets of Askroth, the populace freezing in utter confusion and shock. Meanwhile, the General smirked at Ajun and his heavily outnumbered Honour Guard, and took his time approaching them.
Ajun’s fear suddenly washed away, and a serene acceptance flooded through him. As long as the Naragi lived, they would never submit. Never.
The General made it to Ajun and reached to grab his forearm, only to find his own missing a second later. The Captain of the Honour Guard had struck through the General’s overconfidence.
The General screeched something entirely otherworldly, and his armor shimmered faster and brighter than ever before. Grabbing his own blade, one that seemed formed of pure light, he quickly struck down the Captain. When his rage subsided, the General looked horrified.
“I-”.
He found himself impaled by the spear of another Honour Guardsman.
Saradomin froze in shock, then returned to a neutral expression tinged with anger.
“You’ve made your choice, then”.
The cold grew.