Chapter Text
There was once a time, an era shrouded in mystery, where humans lacked almost any personality trait, every soul was the same, with very few standing apart from the inescapable sea of monotone “people” if you can call them that, those blessed ones, unlike the other individuals were… different. While other individuals were almost like empty shells, the blessed ones had vivid personalities and traits that could be attributed to the two gods that indirectly ruled over the territory.
Those two gods were named Tark and Pectus: Tark, cunning and sly blessed people who would later become strategists and judges; Pectus, compassionate and intuitive, blessed people who would later be mayors and advisors.
It’s because of the blessed ones, the backbone of the country, that things ran smoothly for decades, the territories were spilt evenly in small cities, said cities were ran by at least a Priest of Tark and a Priest of Pectus.
Time is inexorable and it corrodes everything. Equilibrium, so fragile, so easily destroyed even by the smallest disagreement that time slowly inflates until it becomes the reason why a thing as fragile as harmony eventually snaps.
A small dispute between a Priest of Tark and a civilian was all it took. People started hating the bluntness of those people that were blessed by the divine god of logic. Nitpicking at every action, every word they said.
Eventually the worshippers of Tark started diminishing and the natural, almost magical equilibrium between logic and emotion started to corrode, time only speeding up the process.
Eventually said equilibrium shattered in a million pieces. Each shard was a broken chain link of the chain that held down the harbinger or disharmony, Discordia, sealed eons ago by the divine forces of the two gods combined.
The ancient tyrant started unleashing chaos and death, not personally, but by putting one city against the other, manipulating those shells called “people” as if they were puppets and Discordia being the master puppeteer.
The situation got worse and worse as a panicked Pectus and a severely weakened Tark desperately struggled to make an effective plan. In the end… not before many protests from Pectus, both of the two gods used their powers in a last gasp attempt to bring peace once again.
Discordia was sealed once again, but unfortunately a price must be paid. No matter how many tears, how many attempts to salvage them, Tark’s soul shattered, that day it’s rumoured that Pectus’s scream was so potent and the anguish was so intense that it shook the sky and earth before they soul shattered too, as a result. The two gods forever resting as stone, one next to the other.
An ending, is never truly an ending, it’s just a brand new start for someone else, because the next generation of humans weren’t only plain souls, with no characteristics, they weren’t empty shells, they actually had emotions, feelings, but… a crucial mistake was made. Some people started inclining towards math and scientific subjects, while other people started inclining themselves towards music, poetry, theatre.
Ever since that time, no priest was ever born, no god ever looked after the humans, those two mountains looking over the city as peace reigned, unless…