《Heights of Aevum》 Chapter One - Threads of Fate -Threads of Fate- The realm of Aloria is a land veiled in mystery, and frequently disturbed by dark magicks Holy scripture passed down over the ages claim that the Alorians royal family inherited the divine blood of the Gods. The First King took the name Argentius, Light of the Dawn. He had a crown of gleaming silver fashioned for himself, which is said to have never tarnished. He proclaimed his reign was the dawn of a new era for the kingdoms of man. Argentius had the greatest artisans and architects design a grand city, a new capital fit for the divinity that he claimed. And so, great gilded walls were erected to encompass the august city that came to be called Eldralis, preserving the peace for all who lived there. For a time. But time pressed on without regard for Argentius¡¯ plans, and he eventually passed away. As the generations passed, that ever-present feeling of peace and safety in the city faded away. High above the sprawling capital city, nestled in the craggy embrace of the Gandrian Mountains, lay the Grand Palace of Eldralis¡ªa place built to be the epitome of grandeur and opulence. Yet, within its walls, a shadow of cruelty cast a pall over that splendor¡­ Deep within the labyrinthine corridors of the palace, where the prestige of the royal court might as well be a world away, there was a small, forgotten chamber. A place untouched by the warmth of daylight and gentle embrace of the sun. It was here, in a frigid stillness of stone and marble, that one could find the tiny domain of Princess Eve, the young royal whose existence had become something like a secret¡ªnot because of some grand reason like the servants swearing their souls to the royal family with magick, but because nobody bothered to care for the princess. This sunless chamber was a solitary cocoon, a world of only desolation and anguish. Its stone walls were as unforgiving as the royal decree that had banished its occupant. The room''s only furnishing was a shoddily-built cot, draped in a single, threadbare blanket¡ªa meager defense against the biting cold that gripped the palace in its eternal wintry embrace. A lone candle flickered as wax dripped onto the floor, casting eerie shadows that danced upon the walls, emphasizing the room''s stark solitude. Though often-times the room remained unlit, as servants couldn¡¯t be bothered to bring a replacement when the wax and wick had burned to completion. On especially chilly nights, Princess Eve would lie upon the cot and her skeleton-like body would tremble as each shiver coursed through her. She¡¯d wrap the thin blanket as tightly around herself as she could manage in an effort to not rip it further. Most nights, her every breath would be visible in the frigid air. The room''s furnace, cold and forlorn, always remained unlit. This forgotten section of the palace was devoid of firewood. The warm embers of a hearth, vibrant and welcoming, were nothing but a faded memory for the princess. Eve''s violet eyes would glisten with tears whenever she found herself thinking about the past. She longed for the warmth of the sun, the voices of friends and family, and the joy of laughter¡ªall of which seemed forbidden to her, in her exile. Yet, even within the confines of this stifling solitude, a single glimmer of hope burned within the princess¡¯ heart, standing testament to her indomitable spirit that had defied the cruelty that sought to break her time and time again. As her memories indicated, it wasn¡¯t always like this in the palace. Not so long ago, in a time that would be considered the golden age of Aloria, attendants and servants within the Palace of Eldralis were renowned across the land for their loyalty, noble hearts, and unwavering devotion to the royal family. But something happened, a darkness sneaked its way into their hearts and began to poison the very devotion they¡¯d held so dear. It started with the ascent of a new king¡ªa ruler with ambitions that eclipsed the kingdom''s foundations. King Rodrick the Emberheart, with a thirst for power that bordered on insanity, sought to solidify his reign by discovering the truth of Aloria''s divine and magickal heritage. He believed that by dismantling ancient relics and tapping into the secrets of the Gods, he could truly secure his rule for all eternity. This lust for total supremacy had cast a dark shadow over the palace and begun the descent into cruelty and despair. Swept up and consumed by the King¡¯s abhorrent greed, the royal attendants and servants, became nothing more than pawns in the king''s insidious plot. They were caught in webs spun of dark enchantments, their hearts tainted by haunting whispers that promised unimaginable power. This sudden shift had the most profound impact on Princess Eve''s life, a life that had once been filled with laughter and affection. She was banished from sight and sent to live in that dusty corner of the palace, and now the attendants and servants, now tainted by dark forces, reveled daily in the torment they inflicted upon the princess. Mockery and humiliation were their favored tools, and they wielded them mercilessly. Princess Eve, a kind and pure girl who knew only love in her early years, became the target of their wickedness. Cruel taunts and laughter filled her solitary chamber, like sickly serpents striking venom at her heart. The terrible transformation was fully complete when the palace guards, who¡¯d once sworn to protect the royal family, now turned a blind eye to the torment. Their inaction only fueled the sadistic fires that now blazed in the hearts of all those who served within the palace. Though amid the terrible people and hearts filled with evil, there was a golden-haired maid named Lily, whose heart remained untouched by the shadows. She alone showed Princess Eve love. Lily''s tender words and gentle embrace were the only light in Eve¡¯s life. She whispered sweetly to the princess and offered solace in moments of despair. While the princess desperately clung to the hope Lily¡¯s love gave her, King Rodrick, her father, had grown increasingly obsessed in his bid to consolidate power and unravel the God¡¯s greatest secrets. In pursuit of his dark ambitions, King Rodrick had grown ever more distant from the kingdom''s core values of unity and compassion. He gathered a group of advisors, sorcerers who practiced forbidden magicks. These advisors, driven by the King¡¯s promises of unimaginable power, began to manipulate the mind of the King himself. Deep within the Palace of Eldralis, King Rodrick had been caught in his own webs of secrecy and ambition. The kingdom had long been graced with scholars of magick, and the king''s insatiable desire for power had led him to the forbidden depths of the kingdom¡¯s library. There, among the dusty tomes and ancient scrolls, he unearthed a particular ominous grimoire. The book, bound in a sort of odd-colored aged leather and adorned with cryptic symbols, spoke of dark rituals to achieve godhood through the sacrifice of one with divine blood. Its words whispered promises of ascension, of a power beyond the realm of mortals, and for King Rodrick, his ambitions flared like a fevered fire and he found himself ensnared by its tantalizing words. As he and his advisors studied the arcane pages, they learned that this sinister rite would demand not just a simple sacrifice. The grimoire asserted that to attain godhood, the victim must not only be of divine lineage but also willingly offer themselves to the ritual, their spirit completely shattered, their will to live extinguished. Such a sacrifice would be a gateway to transcendent power. The king''s eyes, once gleaming with the lust for dominion, now reflected the chilling depths of his newfound obsession. He envisioned himself as a god, with power unparalleled in the annals of history. The allure of such a destiny, of becoming an entity beyond mortality, cast a malevolent shadow over his judgment. The kingdom of Aloria would bow before him, and the world itself would tremble at his very presence. But a dark realization loomed. His path to godhood was a road that must be paved with anguish and despair, King Rodrick, with a mixture of greed and trepidation, grappled with the realization that only one within his own family could undergo this nightmarish transformation. As he considered the implications of the ritual, King Rodrick¡¯s thoughts turned to his own family, the princess, Eve, his own flesh and blood. Though not fully acknowledged in his mind, the darkness that had festered in his heart had already exiled her to a life of solitude. This ritual¡¯s revelation presented a new challenge. To achieve godhood, he would need to break her spirit, to drive her to willingly offer herself as a sacrifice. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. The king was completely consumed by his ambition and saw this revelation as the means to secure his legacy. Yet, a flicker of doubt gnawed at the edges of his conscience. Was the price for godhood too steep? Could he truly bring himself to shatter his own daughter''s spirit, to condemn her to an existence of torment and despair? Hah! King Rodrick laughed at himself. Because, of course, he would. The King loathed his daughter¡ªthough, he did not know why. The King hated her existence that was a stain on his glorious family¡ªthough, he wasn¡¯t sure when he began to have those thoughts. The King¡¯s heart fluttered with joy at the thought of his daughter begging for him to let her die¡ªthough¡­ a tear swelled in his eye and his mind was wracked in pain for a moment. In the depths of that chilling library, King Rodrick let go of any residual attachments and lingering remnants of love for his own child. The path to godhood was within his grasp. The sinister tome, whispering promises of transcendent power, held him in its thrall, the kingdom''s fate teetering on the edge of a terrible abyss.
Day by day the King¡¯s demeanor darkened, his own devotion to the kingdom giving way to cruelty, just like that of his servants. Princess Eve became his primary target, believing that her torment was the key to unlocking the divine knowledge he so desperately sought. Now with the King¡¯s grace, the palace attendants tormented the princess with a zealous vigor, their vicious laughter echoing like a sinister chorus in the empty halls beyond her secluded chamber. It was on the night before the princess¡¯ fourteenth birthday when the darkest chapter of her life was forever etched into her memory. A group of male attendants, led by the once-loyal Captain of the Royal Guard¡ªa man who used to follow after the young princess as she played in the palace gardens¡ªhad fallen so far to the sinister influence, stormed into her chamber. The stale air was thick with tension and the shadows cast by the princess¡¯ single light source danced in anticipation of the cruel act to come. With ruthless abandon, they subjected Princess Eve to a savage beating, their blows falling like the jagged shards of the broken kingdom. The princess, trembling with pain and fear, desperately fought to protect herself, but her strength was no match for the darkness that had hold over her oppressors. After an eternity of torture, the attackers left the room. Their sick laughter echoed down the hall to Princess Eve, who had been left bruised, broken, and gasping for air. Her cries for help had gone unanswered for hours. The dwindling flickers of candlelight cast eerie shadows upon her still form, like wraiths mourning the innocence that had been stolen from her. In the hushed aftermath of this heinous act, Princess Eve clung to life''s fragile thread, her heart now shattered by despair. With a cautious yet determined step, Lily entered the princess¡¯ chambers. Her eyes went wide with horror at the sight that greeted her. She knelt beside the princess and with trembling hands, began to tend to the princess''s wounds with strips of cloth that could hardly be called a bandage. Her touch was soft and gentle, but every time she made contact with the princess, Eve flinched in desperation. Lily whispered words of solace and tenderness as she prayed that her presence could be a sanctuary for the princess in the storm of darkness that had engulfed the palace. Lily worked tirelessly to mend the physical wounds that marred the princess but worried the emotional damage could never be healed. Princess Eve¡¯s once bright amethyst eyes now seemed dull and lifeless. Sadly, the beacon of hope that was a maid who dared to cross the line and forge a bond with the princess was snuffed out. In the cruel grip of dawn''s first light, Lily mysteriously vanished from the palace, leaving Eve alone once more. Days passed, and Lily still had not returned to Eve¡¯s side. One night, as the moon hung low in the sky and the bitter winter winds howled through the palace corridors, a burning desire for truth welled up within Eve''s heart. In a daring act, she slipped through the shadowy halls of the palace, ears tuned to the boisterous conversations of guards, whose words spoke of betrayal. Their howling laughter revealed the horrifying truth¡ªLily had met a cruel fate, silenced by those who despised her pure heart. With the moon as her only companion, Eve fled the palace. She struggled through the unforgiving cold, her thread-bare blanket wrapped tight around her fragile form. The night air was cold and unforgiving as Eve, still battered and bruised, ventured out from the suffocating darkness of the palace into the embrace of the Gandrian Mountains. The princess''s footsteps were feeble, and her breath hung in the frosty air like ethereal mist. Each step was an act of defiance, a strike against the years of abuse that had cloaked her life for far too long. The mountains loomed over her, their jagged peaks reaching for the heavens, silhouetted against the moon''s pallid glow. Bitter winds howled and clawed at her tiny body. Her feet, barely protected by worn shoes, faltered on the treacherous, snow-covered path. Her heart beat weakly within her chest, threatening to stop at any moment. As the princess trekked deeper into the unknown, her thoughts turned back to Lily''s whispered words of hope. Her years of kindness were like a beacon of light, and Eve clung to that feeling and used it to guide her through the dark wilderness. The line between the hours that had passed and eternity blurred, but Eve pressed on. The mountains, unforgiving as they were, were peaceful. One place where she was finally free from the torment of the palace. The crunching of her footsteps became a cadence to her march, a declaration of her freedom. The stars above seemed to shimmer with approval, bearing witness to her resolve, but as night became day and the oppressive sun that she hadn¡¯t seen in ages bore down on her withered body¡ªher resolve faltered. Eve struggled for a long time. Her stomach rippled with pain and her throat, mouth, and lips felt dry¡ªeven as she sucked on handfuls of snow, her thirst and hunger threatened to end her journey at any minute. And while on the precipice of death, she saw it. An ancient and forgotten temple, hidden away in the heights of the Gandrian Mountains. As the chill of a new night gnawed at her bones and the pain from her still unhealed wounds intensified, she stumbled into the sanctuary of the temple. Inside, a dimly lit chamber lay before her, a statue of a golden goddess standing sentinel. As she collapsed onto her knees before the deity, her breaths came in ragged gasps, and her vision blurred. The taste of salt and iron stained her mouth. In this most dire moment of need, Princess Eve gasped a single prayer to the golden goddess, her last hope, seeking salvation from this terrible life. Her voice was cracked and strained. ¡°Please, give me another chance¡­ I won¡¯t make the same mistakes again. I won¡¯t do anything to cause my father to hate me. I¡¯ll be a good daughter. I promise. So, please God¡­ please¡ª¡± Princess Eve¡¯s legs finally gave out, and her body crumbled to the ground in a fit of coughs and wheezes. ¡°Ahhh¡­ I don¡¯t want to die like this. Not again.¡± Her words were as icy and lifeless as the world outside the temple, and it caused her to pause. Not again? She questioned herself. Why did I¡ª? Amid the solitude of the temple, Princess Eve found herself succumbing to the depths of her own mind. There she awakened to the terrible truth of her existence¡ªa haunting aspect that caused her body to shudder. A flood of fragmented memories swarmed her thoughts, each one a painful echo of a past life. These recollections, no longer shrouded in darkness, combined with the memories of her current life and threatened to break her mind. She had lived not one awful life alone, but instead, her existence was a continuum of suffering that stretched across a thousand years. As her mind delved into these harrowing memories, she unearthed the cruel and relentless cycles of abuse that seemed to haunt her every incarnation. In the recesses of her mind, she discovered herself as a beggar in one lifetime, struggling to find morsels of food and shelter from the biting cold. In another, she was a laborer in the mines, her back bowed beneath the weight of unrelenting toil. In one of the most harrowing memories of her past, Eve recalled her first life. She had been born as a princess in a glorious nation called Revan-Natori. A place of beauty and prosperity. Its people were known for their mastery of elemental magicks. Yet, it was this very power that would ultimately lead to their downfall. Eve had been born into a world of grandeur but was marred by a curse placed on her soul the moment she was born, a curse that enslaved daughters of Natori for generations. This curse was a malevolent force that entwined their lives with suffering and despair, an ancient legacy that had festered like a rotting wound. Eve was not a princess; she was a vessel for the curse, bearing its weight like a crown of thorns. Catastrophe came for Revan-Natori as the nation was smashed to ruins by a kingdom of void magick-wielding elves. Eve''s people were defeated. Their mighty armies were slaughtered with ease and her father, the king, was beheaded. The once-proud nation of Revan-Natori was now nothing but a puppet state, renamed to the Kingdom of Rena, and offered up as a solemn concession to the elves. As the new ¡®ruler¡¯ of this forsaken land, Eve¡¯s brother, Prince Lysander, became entangled in the same darkness that now consumed their kingdom. His desperation to assert control over the void-addled curse that had their family employed to enslave its own led him to insanity. One fateful night, the curse''s malevolence seemed to reach its zenith. Eve, imprisoned within her own flesh, was forced to watch in abject horror as her brother, driven to madness over his failures to control the curse, turned on her. With void magick coursing through his veins, Lysander, in an act of unspeakable cruelty, murdered her in cold blood. Eve''s eyes bore witness to her own demise as Lysander ripped her heart from her chest, the pain searing through her soul like a seething fire. Her final moments were marked by a cruel betrayal, the agony of her heart''s removal, and a chilling awareness of the curse''s insidious power. Her spirit, marked by decades of torment, would continue to carry the weight of that brutal end into her future lives, where the memories of her past as Princess Eve would haunt her like a relentless specter of despair. Her every existence was marked by adversity, and the pain she once bore transcended all. The memories of these past lives were an oppressive tapestry woven with the wicked threads of fate, now laid out before her like a never-ending nightmare. Every moment of betrayal, heartbreak, and injustice, was etched in her soul, waiting only for her to die and play them back over again. With tear-stained eyes, Eve struggled and gave one last look at the ancient statue looming over her. In a quiet voice, she cursed the Gods. Her vision finally faded to black. The princess¡¯ last thoughts were of dread and anguish. A desperate plea that she would never be reborn¡ªthat her life would end for all eternity. Chapter Two - Serenity -Serenity- There exists a place that is not quite a place¡ªa space that could not be described as space, a point that exists far beyond the aetherial planes where celestial attendants dance, further even from the worlds of mortals, a point that is time yet has no time, a point of being that the Gods call, Aevum. Within the temporal shrouds of Aevum hangs a luminous tapestry of existence that stretches infinitely. And charged with overseeing this ineffable thing of fate, was the Goddess Klotho. The youngest of three divine sisters, each of whom held the fateful threads of the universe in their ethereal hands. Klotho''s whole being was dedicated to weaving the threads of life and death, for it was decreed that she, and she alone, would hold dominion over the moment when mortal souls would breathe their first breaths and, if she willed them to be, be granted another chance at life¡ªrebirth. But truthfully, the powers she wielded were as mercurial as the tapestries she wove. Klotho''s touch was capricious and unpredictable¡ªwhich caused misgivings and sorrow in many worlds. The denizens of which cried out and prayed at their misfortunes. Gods of all pantheons knew the name Klotho and associated it with calamity and tragedy. Klotho lamented her own fate, which seemingly existed outside of her control. A fate she thought was crueler than those who blamed her for their hardships. Her sisters, Lachesis and Atropos, held mastery over the threads of destiny and mortality, and they did not hesitate to blame Klotho for the strife her fickle powers sowed among the realms. The divine pantheons, assemblies of gods and goddesses who presided over the cosmos, grew weary of Klotho''s perceived negligence. They turned their backs on her, throwing accusations that she was purposefully bringing discord to the worlds. Their divine voices rose as they decreed her punishment. Exile from the heights of Aevum. The Gods appeased themselves with the thoughts of her presence being removed from their vicinity. If she was unable to spin the threads of fate, misfortune would disappear with her. And so, Klotho found herself cast out in the infinite expanse of Aevum. Forever cursed to wander aimlessly, barred from returning to the divine sanctum of the Gods. Though time had no meaning in Aevum, it did flow in the realms below. And years began to pass. No longer did her sisters seek her counsel. Not that I cared for the way they belittled me when they did. No longer did her hands sway the destinies of mortals. Not that I truly had control over their destinies to begin with. She had been cast aside, labeled a wayward deity. I never enjoyed the company of other gods, what am I missing? She had been labeled as a pariah, blamed for the troubles that had befallen the realms. I¡¯ve never belonged with the others from the start. And before long Klotho had been adrift for over ten thousand years, with nothing but her thoughts to keep her company. During those thousands of years, however, the divine pantheons witnessed the consequences of their actions in the worlds they governed. Without Klotho¡¯s steady hand, no new life could be born into these worlds. At first, many gods and goddesses were overwhelmed by the decline of souls in need of judgment, guidance, and purpose. But it was just a curse levied upon themselves. In just a few hundred years, many worlds were devoid of mortal life. War, famine, or plague had wiped out struggling populations. The cosmic balance wavered. Therefore, two decrees were made to the remaining sisters by the pantheons. Atropos was banned from severing the life of any mortals, and Lachesis could never instigate a feud that would lead to any deaths. Soon some of the worlds the Gods watched over began to forge destinies contrary to the gods'' intentions. Civilizations flourished. They began to advance their philosophies and their technologies. Mortals, now effectively immortal, claimed the Gods to be dead. And they no longer built shrines and temples. They no longer prayed. And the powers of the Gods waned. Amidst their growing dissatisfaction, the Gods convened in an inner sanctum made of aetherial stardust. Once again, they blamed all their woes upon Klotho, Goddess of Fate. Celestial attendants were sent out in every direction to search the depths of Aevum. Their mandate was simple. ¡°Find the Evil Goddess, Klotho. Shackle her and deliver her to us to face Justice.¡±
Deep within a scintillating sea of stars that seemed to stretch endlessly before her, Klotho wandered alone through the vast cosmic expanse. Having been exiled by the pantheons and blamed for every instance of chaos that had occurred in the realms, she was having trouble bearing the burden of this newfound solitude. Tiny specks of starlight shone all around her like distant beacons. Their brilliance, she thought, was a stark contrast to the gnawing void that consumed her mind. Klotho''s once-glorious alabaster white robes of divinity had changed. The vicious storm of emotions within her dyed the divine raiment a light-consuming black. Her once radiant eyes, brimming with the power of creation and fate, had dulled. Now pools of sorrow which reflected the inky darkness that surrounded her. As she trudged her way through the cosmic expanse, her steps were weighed down by the immense feelings of isolation and sorrow. Her divine footsteps echoed with the ghostly memories of worlds she had once touched, destinies she had once woven. But now, the universe was indifferent to her presence¡ªthe threads of fate just an enigmatic tapestry, always beyond her reach. Only her thoughts accompanied her. She had begun to speak to herself often, though her words were lost in the vast emptiness. ¡°A thousand years¡­ How long am I to bear this endless solitude? Am I a goddess, or nothing more than a wretched wanderer?¡± I am a shadow of my former self, she mused in the quiet corners of her mind. ¡°Once I held the power to weave the threads of life or prolong death. Now, I can barely hold the threads of my mind together!¡± The forlorn goddess screamed, her voice cracking in desperation. There was no response to her wails. There never was. The memories of her exile were a constant torment. She replayed the accusations of the other gods and goddesses in her mind, the blame for the chaos she hadn''t caused. ¡°I was not at fault,¡± she muttered, her voice filled with bitterness. ¡°I tried to tell them, begged them to accept that it was not my doing. But they refused to listen.¡± Klotho sighed. The passage of time continued. Through the cosmic expanse, the heavenly bodies became her only friends. But even the stars, while offering their silent beauty, provided no real solace for her lonely heart. The concept of time itself had become a cruel tormentor. "Ten thousand years," she whispered, her voice shaking with anguish. "A mere blink in the eye of the universe, but an eternity in the heart of one abandoned." She knew that time was not passing for her¡ªno one in Aevum felt the passage of time. But she knew time would pass in the realms of mortals, and somewhere deep in her heart, there was an aching. Certain thoughts consumed her mind recently. Klotho''s grasp on her own identity had grown fragile. She had a harder time distinguishing the boundaries between her divine nature and her mortal-like despair. She longed for the company of her divine kin, the laughter of her celestial sisters, and the camaraderie of the pantheon. The memories of why she had been exiled had blurred. The memories of how the others had treated her had faded. ¡°Was my punishment deserved?¡± Her question was a desperate plea to the cosmic void. ¡°What was it that made them cast me aside? I miss the warmth of their presence, the feeling of belonging to something greater.¡± The depths of Aevum continued to stretch infinitely. ¡°I am a goddess of fate,¡± she whispered to the stars, her voice fading into the cosmic void. ¡°And yet, my own destiny is a cruel paradox. Alone, adrift, and forgotten¡­¡± And then there was a new light. Noise that came not from her, but from something else¡ªsomeone else. It was a moment both unexpected and surreal, the faint shimmer of movement in the unending cosmic sea. A band of celestial attendants, their forms radiant and ephemeral, descended upon her like specters of the heavens. Their ethereal essence was the embodiment of divine servitude, for these attendants, bound by cosmic contract, upheld the will of the Gods in the myriad realms. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. Klotho could not be certain that these newly appeared beings were not just apparitions of her mind. Her loneliness made manifest. But as they encircled her, their collective presence became a shimmering wall of celestial energy. She felt herself drawn to their will, powerless to resist their influence. ¡°Klotho,¡± One of the attendants intoned with a voice like the ringing of chimes, ¡°You will come with us. You¡¯ve caused enough harm to the realms, and must now face justice.¡± Her gentle-sounding words acted as a command that echoed through the cosmic void. Klotho''s vision, blurred by the tears of her solitude, refocused on the attendants. She was shackled by their aetherial magicks that shimmered like liquid starlight, binding her wrists and ankles in iridescent chains. Bound and encircled, her blurry memories whipped through her mind. The knowledge was fragmented, but she knew she had not been welcome in the sanctum. She knew that if she was taken back there, she would be hurt even further. ¡°Please let me be,¡± she pleaded, her voice quivering with desperation. ¡°I cannot return. I am an outcast, a shadow of my former self. I can bring only chaos to the realms.¡± The celestial attendants masked their expressions and remained steadfast in their mission. With synchronized movements, they hoisted Klotho into their arms and began their ascent to the heights of Aevum. The goddess, shackled and powerless, could only gaze back at the endless sea she had dwelled as it faded into obscurity.
The sanctum, a place crafted of shimmering stardust and resplendent divine architecture, was the domain of the gods and goddesses who watched over the worlds. It was a place of divine judgment and deliberation, and it was there that Klotho, the exiled Goddess of Fate, was made to face her cruel fate once more. As they entered the sanctum, the celestial attendants presented their shackled charge to the pantheon. The gods and goddesses, their regal forms arrayed in celestial splendor, looked upon Klotho with a mix of revile and judgment. I am a prisoner in a realm of my own making, and now a captive of my own kind, she thought bitterly. Klotho struggled to her feet, ¡°I am to be judged again, by those who once cast me aside. What awaits me now, after ten thousand years of isolation?¡± Her bitter voice echoed in the hallowed hall. One by one the gods and goddesses, their own voices echoing through the sanctum, questioned her actions and her motives. Many decried her blackened garments as all the proof they needed that she was evil. They blamed her for things she had no insight into. A rebellion of celestial attendants who had imprisoned their own Gods and split their realm¡¯s connection from Aevum. The celestial attendants, entrusted with upholding the divine will in the realms, had revolted. In an aetherial plane distant from the pantheon''s gaze, these attendants had overturned their divine overseers, and seized the threads of fate and destiny tied to their realm, believing they could weave a better future. The Gods initially turned their wrath upon the attendants, but the blame for the ensuing chaos fell upon Klotho. In their judgment, her supposed abandonment had allowed this rebellion to fester unchecked. The divine pantheon declared her an "Evil God," a true pariah in the divine hierarchy. To reinforce their decision, Klotho was blamed for the ensuing chaos that had taken root in the realms below while she had been in exile. Entire worlds of mortals had shunned the Gods and were reaching beyond the stars. The God¡¯s divine judgments were harsh and unyielding, and cast her in the role of the malevolent deity¡ªKlotho was the root of all evil. The originator of chaos. ¡°Was my punishment not enough?¡± she whispered, her voice barely audible over the celestial deliberations. ¡°Must I now be branded as an Evil God?¡± Iridescent tears stained her cheeks. She knew that it was not her abandonment of duties that wrought all the chaos in the beginning, it was the failure of other Gods who did not guide or assist the mortals in their times of need. Whatever had happened with that group of celestial attendants, was probably chaos that they inspired themselves. How could she, adrift in exile, have influenced their actions? As the fixed trial raged, Klotho knew her fate no longer hung in the balance. Shackled and forlorn, she awaited the final verdict she knew was coming. The sanctum would bear witness to the culmination of her divine odyssey, a journey fraught with isolation and despair. Klotho¡¯s divinity was severed, and she was banished from Aevum. Her power over Fate was expected to be reclaimed by the pantheons, and a new god or goddess would take the mantle. She had been exiled anew, her presence to one day be forgotten. And Klotho awaited the dreadful moment when her existence would fade away. Her heart was filled with trepidation as to what would become of her essence, her sense of self. But that moment never came. Instead, Klotho found herself in an endless void¡ªmuch like the sea of stars she¡¯d spent so much of her time while exiled. But this new void was a true void. Devoid of stars or any other source of light. It felt familiar in some ways, and unsettling in others. This place called to her as if it was her home, but hadn¡¯t yet been built. Klotho knew instinctively that she could twist and bend this place to her will, if she¡¯d wanted to. And so, she weaved her fingers through the aetherial space, as she knew to do, and formed the first thing she thought of. Something she longed for. A brilliant star, bright and warm, came into existence. It dazzled her, bathing her skin in the color she¡¯d loved the most, violet. She looked lovingly at the sphere of light, and a new spark ignited within her dull and sorrowful eyes. They reflected back the light of the star, her star, and shined like polished amethysts. Klotho wondered what else she could bring about in her new home, and eventually, a large sphere of rock and dirt orbited her star. She smiled at her new little world and began to add in water and assortments of bright and lovely plant life that she had only seen through the distorted gleams into mortal souls, but quickly the water turned to ice and the plants withered away. The goddess frowned, cursing her lack of knowledge of the inner workings of creating a world. Many Gods in her past had bragged about how great their worlds and realms had been. If only she knew what was missing, she wouldn¡¯t be alone anymore. If she knew how to create a world, Klotho could fill it with mortals who loved her. She pushed forward, trying to add molten rocks to her world to keep it warm but they would eventually grow cold. She noticed that whatever side of her world was facing her star, would stay warm for some time¡ªbut once it no longer was exposed, it would lose all the heat. Klotho tried keeping her world from turning, but that just caused one side to be too hot while the other was too cold. ¡°What am I doing wrong!?¡± She lamented. As during her ten thousand years in exile, she did not expect a response. But, a response did come. A feminine voice called in return from somewhere in the darkened void behind her, ¡°You¡¯re lacking the airy gases that trap in the heat and diffuse the air living things need to breathe.¡± ¡°Who¡¯s there?¡± Klotho called out in surprise, ¡°If you¡¯ve come to accuse me or slander me, I don¡¯t want to hear it! I¡¯ve already been cast out, please¡­ just leave me alone!¡± There was a silence that lasted for a long time, but the silvery voice did eventually respond. ¡°I don¡¯t know who may have come before, and I don¡¯t quite understand the implications behind your wariness. But I am not here to cause you any more grief. May I come closer to you? I felt your presence in this space and I wished to know more about you.¡± The unexpected visitor¡¯s voice sounded sincere, and Klotho desired a friendly person¡¯s company more than anything else in the entirety of existence. So she agreed immediately, ¡°Yes! You may come to me.¡± Rather than being so far away in the void that the light from her star had not lit up her visitor, the visitor had instead been cloaked in a blanket of empurpled magick¡ªeffectively shielding her from view through a trick of stealth. A shimmer of magick, like that of the celestial attendants¡ªthough a strange orange color that Klotho had never seen¡ªfaded around the visitor, revealing her form. She was unlike any being Klotho had ever seen. Odd in appearance compared to any mortal race she knew, and different from any celestial attendant she¡¯d encountered. The visitor had a pale pink-beige skin tone and pinkish hair, that almost seemed like a shade of light purple. Atop her head were golden horns that arched up along her head and curled down towards her pointy ears. Large black leathery wings flanked her body, extending out from somewhere near her spine between the shoulders. And a slender tail snaked down her between her legs, moving through the air in anticipation. ¡°You can call me Ophi,¡± The visitor started, ¡°And we¡¯re something akin to neighbors, I believe they say.¡± ¡°I¡¯m glad to meet you, Ophi. My name is¡­¡± The ex-Goddess of Fate trailed off. Was she Klotho? She was no longer a member of the pantheons, and no longer a goddess¡ªor was she? This little world and the beautiful star she had created implied otherwise. But she no longer wanted to be tied to a name that held the disdain of others. The banished and exiled failure, Klotho, was no longer her. She wished to live out her life, however long that would be now if not infinite, in peace. Away from the squabbles of Gods and mortal realms beyond her control. ¡°My name is Serenity.¡± Serenity smiled. A mix of emotions she didn¡¯t realize were raging in her heart, stilled. And for the first time in over ten thousand years, she felt happy. Ophi introduced herself further, and elaborated on what she meant by ¡°neighbors¡±. She was a ¡°newborn¡±, for lack of a better term. Gods weren¡¯t born the same way as mortals. They didn¡¯t grow up the same way or have to study and learn certain things. All new Gods had an innate knowledge of whatever it was they were created to do¡ªjust as Serenity had always known how to weave the threads of fate the way she did. When it came to doing something outside their domain, such as the overbearing expectations laid atop the newly born Goddess of Fate millennia ago or Serenity¡¯s attempts at world creation, they would have to learn how to do that that scratch. Ophi didn¡¯t know what she was the goddess of, exactly. She didn¡¯t exist one moment and the next, there she was lying in a crater of rock and dirt on a world she had no knowledge of. Her first memory was of her powers being so immense that she caused a massive discharge of both divine energy and magick that sprang hundreds of strange beings into existence along with her. Since they were on a world already inhabited by other mortals, hostilities ensued and she had to fight back against those mortals to keep herself and her strange new companions safe. Once Ophi had gained control over her powers, she managed to take her companions to a place identical to the space Serenity was occupying. ¡°Double the size of your world¡ªactually, no, triple it.¡± Ophi told Serenity, ¡°At that size, it will be massive enough to keep hold of all the gases you make. After that, the air will retain the heat from your star and you won¡¯t have to see your pretty little flowers wither and die anymore.¡± Serenity did as instructed and within a short time, she had rivers, lakes, and oceans of liquid water flowing all through her world. ¡°We did it! I can¡¯t believe it, we actually did it.¡± Serenity rushed Ophi, embracing the fledgling goddess in a great hug. Serenity could feel warmth radiating out from beneath Ophi¡¯s skin and after having struggled for so long without physical contact, Serenity began to weep. Iridescent light streaked down her cheeks as she held Ophi tight. ¡°Waah! I¡¯m so glad you found me!¡± Serenity cried, ¡°I don¡¯t know how long I would have struggled before falling into despair.¡± Ophi¡¯s hand gently patted Serenity¡¯s back. ¡°I¡¯m glad to have found you too. Though, it kinda feels like I gained another daughter instead of a new neighbor.¡± Serenity¡¯s neck pulled back, ¡°You have a daughter?¡± ¡°I do,¡± Ophi chuckled lightly, ¡°You and she are very similar it seems.¡± Serenity¡¯s face flushed red with heat, embarrassed at how she, the goddess who¡¯d lived over ten thousand years, had acted so immature as to be compared to a relatively newborn goddess¡¯ daughter. When Serenity had calmed down and was reinvigorated to continue her efforts on world creation, Ophi said her farewells. ¡°If you focus on me and really mean it, I¡¯ll know you¡¯re trying to get my attention and I¡¯ll come by when I can. It works the other way around, but until you get the hang of phasing through the plans it would be safer if I visited you instead.¡± The two goddesses shared one more hug, at the behest of Serenity, and Ophi blipped out of the aetherial space. I¡¯m going to create a beautiful world that is full of the nicest and prettiest things, Serenity thought to herself with a smile growing on her face. And then, maybe I¡¯ll make my own daughter¡ªoh, well I guess I don¡¯t know how to do that. Serenity paused, and then her smile grew even wider. Because she knew within her powers, remained the ability to grant a soul another life. The power to reincarnate them. I don¡¯t have to make a new daughter, I can save a soul from the terrible cycle of Fate instead. With determination raging in her heart, Serenity created a human body for her daughter. A delicate and beautiful one with eyes like hers, in the violet that warmed her heart and lit up the skies of her paradise-like world. Serenity looked down at her golden locks that contrasted against the dark raiment she wore and frowned. There is nothing evil about this color. I¡¯ve grown quite fond of it. And with that thought, Serenity ran her fingers through her soon-to-be daughter¡¯s hair and it was washed in a raven black. Serenity ran a gentle finger through the threads of fate, and plucked out the most beautiful and vibrant soul there was. The soul looked like a sea of rainbows, and iridescent light cascaded all around the cozy sanctum Serenity had created to house them. ¡°I bet your life was hard, but look how hard you struggled to keep going. I¡¯m sorry there was nothing I could¡¯ve done in the past. From now on I hope only good things happen to you. My new life. My Eve.¡±