Chosen of the Empty Heavens
Astriel looked out at the desperate faces staring up at her, and held back a sigh of compassion. It was hard not to sympathize with them. These people had lost everything, their world was upended and it still hadn’t fallen back into order. She wanted nothing more than to offer them kindness and support.
After all, she was in the same position. All it took was a look in the mirror to see that.
Her skin had lost its supernatural sheen, while flawless, it was no longer glowing with divine vigor, no longer a brilliant silver, but a stained iron, or even stone gray. Her eyes were no longer pools of divine insight, but merely tools to see the world around her, unable to understand the threads of fate as she once had. She would have been better off blind. And her wings...
Her wings were still beautiful, but lacked the burning heat of Sulgaria's blessing. The divine fire had gone out, leaving her empty and adrift. Her feathers wavered in the wind, no longer shielded from the effects of the mundane by her patron. While she could still fly, it proved exhausting without the holy fortitude, and it was all to easy for them to be damaged. Astriel feared that one day they would be injured beyond her ability to heal, leaving her earthbound for as long as she lived.
It was an everlasting testament to what was lost.
Wars had been fought before, nations had fallen before, but the death of a god? That was something that shook the foundations of the world. The death throes of the sun goddess Sulgaria burned the world, casting down the old order and leaving chaos in its wake. Even now, years after the event, the world was still broken, still lost, just like her. People struggled where they once thrived, ruins stood where cities once were. Nothing would make things as they were before, and they would all have to accept that bleak truth.
But beyond the loss of power, beyond the chaos inflicted on the world, was the empty void that seemed to define her now, the ever present touch of her patron that was gone forever, the utter lack of ordained purpose that could be summed up with a single word:
Why?
She was far from the only angel to have this crisis of faith. They had served their goddess since time immemorial, and without her guiding light… Some of her brethren had fallen, joining demons and devils in their endless war against all that was good and right. Others had sought a new patron, like children seeking a mother's reassurance. Some had given up, turning to self reflection. Other sought to escape by any means necessary, fighting unwinnable battles until they joined their goddess in death.
She had found a different path.
Like her siblings, she looked inward to decide what this meant, to understand this unthinkable calamity. There had to be some meaning behind the death of the Sun goddess, some reason for this terrible event. In time, she settled upon an explanation, the only one that she could make sense of.
Sulgaria’s death was not an unthinkable tragedy, not some random act that could not be predicted. It was a sign, a sign of the dawn of a new era, one she would help bring into being. Her loss was merely the first of many deaths, for the world was changing. The age of Gods was coming to a close, the deities would die, and something new would be born from the ashes of the old.
It was all so clear to her. She shared this vision with those she trusted, who she though would understand her vision and they branded her a heretic. Those she called her brothers and sisters turned their backs on her, even her fallen siblings declared her an abomination and sought to tear her limb from limb. She had no place in the outer realms anymore, for she had declared that their world would fall, that that was the only path forward. It hurt, but she had grown used to such pain. It was not an easy thing to accept, and she did not begrudge their righteous fury. Their flaming swords could not match the emptiness inside, and only served to harden her heart.
The mortal world proved far more accommodating. Their own faith had been shattered, and while many had reacted like her siblings, many more were adrift, looking for a purpose, a purpose she could provide. Some merely recognized her as a being of power, and offered to serve in the hopes of gaining a fraction of that for themselves. While they lacked true faith, she took what she could.
That was why she was here, after all. She could not fight the old world order on her own. She would need an army, and while an army of the faithful would be preferred, Astriel did not have the luxury of limiting her forces. Whoever would serve would be put to use.
Still, the core of her crusade was built around the faithful. Several clerics of Sulgaria had flocked to her once she made her presence known, hoping that she had some divine insight, some reassurance that this was merely a test, a temporary situation that would be resolved, proving their faith justified. Telling them the truth was like living it all over again. Seeing the lost expressions on the dirty faces of the downtrodden faithful made the scars on her heart ache in sympathy. Many left, seeking new gods to serve. Others renounced their faith, turning to a myriad of other paths. Some chose to continue to help, others turning to darker paths such as banditry. Only a few stayed to listen to what she had to say.
They listened to the points she laid out, questioned them, pointed out flaws in her reasoning, honing and refining the idea, hammering out the logistics of her goals, deciding the best way to execute her vision. It took months of debate, arguing, even fighting when tempers flared, but in the end, a plan was formed. They used their diminished resources, consolidated what little power remained to them, and prepared for war. Weapons were acquired, safehouses were established, and the most loyal of her followers disappeared, sent out into the wider world to prepare for their glorious crusade.
All they needed was an army, and now she stood before the masses, ready to preach the new way.
Even so, she hesitated. Seeing all those hopeful souls before her, it was tempting to fall back on old habits, to preach kindness and forgiveness, to lift their burdens if only for a moment. It would be so easy, but it would change nothing. Astriel hardened her heart, and took one more look at the sky. The sun hovered just above the horizon, its surly red glow further darkened by nights approach. Such gatherings were meant to be held at midday, when Sulgaria’s light was most auspicious, but the gathering dark proved more suitable. The darkness would only grow deeper, the last vestiges of Sulgaria’s influence would fade, and the rest of the gods would lead them to ruin unless a new path could be set. It showed what had been lost, and what still remained to be taken from them. Heart steeled, she began to speak.
“My children, I am not here to comfort you, I am not here to say this suffering was a test of faith, or the machinations of the dark gods. The darkening of our sun will not disappear, for its heart has been destroyed. Our goddess Sulgaria is dead.” She began, head bowed and arms spread.
Some screamed or wept at her words, but the majority of the crowd simply lowered their heads. They knew terrible had happened, that the priests had lost their powers granted by Sulgaria. Her words merely confirmed what they already knew in their heart..
“I wish I could tell you otherwise, that she was injured, weakened, deceived by her foes and hidden away, but I saw her fall, I watched as her death throes set the world ablaze, casting your world into chaos and disarray, a state that persists to this very day.
"Like you, I found myself bereft of purpose, adrift in a world I no longer understood. It was only after long reflection that I began to see a new path forward. The Sunstorm was not a disaster, it was a sign that the world we knew would change forever."
"No longer are the gods inviolate incarnations of the world order, they are vulnerable, and they can be killed. It has already happened to the greatest of gods, it is only natural that the rest shall die in time, their death throes destroying the world you know and love. This cannot be prevented, only endured, but I know that the people before me have the strength to face the adversity, and thrive!”
"The death of Sulgaria is but the first of many, her death marks the end of the Age of Gods, and it is up to us to make way for the new world order!" She cried, wings flaring as her hand tore away the sack cloth covering their banner.
It was simple, a black banner with a hollow red circle upon it. There was no need for further decoration, such frivolities belonged to the followers of the gods. Their path had no need of such things. The crowd cheered, each getting swept up in the fervor of those around them.
“We are the future, we are the hope of the world! If they would accept the truth with open arms, accepts them into our ranks as brothers and sisters. If they would stand against our righteous path, then take up your weapons and strike them down, for they will only weaken our resolve and consign the world to chaos.”
Several of her followers moved among the crowd, surreptitiously placing clubs and daggers into idle hands. Some lit torches, holding them aloft to support her, their light reflected off her spread wings in a facsimile of the power they once held. The cheers of the crowd intensified, growing boisterous, even aggressive. They had a purpose, and the chance to finally move forward was one that could not be passed up. They had the power, they had the resolve, all they had needed was a vision, one she was more than happy to give.
"We are the Chosen of the Empty Heavens, and we will forge the destiny of the world as we see fit!"
The crowd roared its approval, and for the first time in a long time, Astriel allowed a small smile to grace her face. This was only the beginning, but at long last she had found her purpose once more. She watched as the crowd took up the weapons that had carefully been collected, seizing more where they could, and making they own when they could not. She watched as her trusted followers laid out plans to tear down the temples of the doomed gods and use their riches to fuel their crusade.
It would not be an easy path. This was but the prelude to the first battle, to win the hearts of those beneath her. Those whose gods still lived would stand against them, rallying the faithful against them, funding their foes and denying them succor, other would see them as a vulnerable new faction and seek to devour them, or to infiltrate their ranks for their own purposes. Even then, it would take ages to attain the necessary strength, let alone determine how the slay the remaining divinities. There were no survivors of that fateful event, and whatever black magic or ancient artifact was used was either lost or destroyed in the aftermath. It would have to be discovered, relearned, and brought to bear against the gods. It was a plan that would take a lifetime to achieve, one that would be driven by blood and pain, but it would be worth it.
It had to be.
