Time Progresses
In Eos, the Gods watched as their hour glasses trickled with the sands of time marking the passing of several years. During this time, many events of great importance took place.
In Lyndell, the rebellion that was taking place within its lands has ceased, giving the citizens some form of peace. However those who have weaved plots and schemes in order to bring down the empire were not caught, they escaped to Adriam looking to launch their final efforts to bring down Lyndell.
The leader of this group of runaways was a man called Judas Ephialtes, a duke of the Lyndell Empire and brother to Empress Eudora.
With promises of riches and power, he convinced other nobles of high status to join him and collude with the Adriam Empire to overthrow the current rulers of Lyndell and replace them. To the Adriam Empire, this was an opportunity presented to them on a sliver spoon. They would not only be able to eliminate the archmagess of Lyndell, Eudora, but also gain much needed agricultural land.
Now, taking shelter within Adriam, Judas commands the only front left where Adriam has superiority; the North Eastern battlefield. There he waits for the army of Adriam with all its generals to provide him with reinforcement.
While Adriam is considered to be more cultured in the way of war and battle, Lyndell held the advantage of being on their own land, drawing more power with the help of other gods they worship and the natural connection they have to the nature of Lyndell. This was the only reason Lyndell held such a strong assault targeting them from both the inside and the outside.
Despite that, the losses were grievous. Lyndell is mostly a peaceful empire, growing scholars and only defending against attacks from others. Adriam on the other hand has always been in a constant state of conquest for resources, providing their fighting force with a plethora of seasoned and hardened warriors.
The last frontal assault is said to take place soon, yet no one knows the exact date. The North Eastern front would not have been such a dangerous battlefield if not for the interference of the gods. Seth, the Egyptian god of the desert and chaos turned the once luscious green field turned blood river from Aurora's attack, into a withered land of curses. Their no warrior of Lyndell can draw power.
Many tried to unravel the spell behind it, but the sacrifices to Seth in order to curse the land was numbered in the tens of thousands, a price the Lyndell Empire was not ready to sacrifice in order to return it back.
Without a sacrifice, the Gods of nature Lyndell prayed to would have to manually unravel the complexities of the curse; yielding no success as of yet.
During these anxious times mothers hold their little lambs close to their hearts and warriors sharpen their blades in anticipation, and a certain sealed Goddess holds her hopes on a long forgotten prophecy waiting to be freed. The final battle would be catastrophic and decisive, the victor of which would have triumphed in this whole war.
The Eleven and Dwarven people remain a bystander to this conflict; more accurately a neutral arms supplier. But in the God realms, the higher beings grow displeased.
Inside Elysium, a place where gods of all pantheons, factions and divinities convene. A heated argument was erupting within the hall.
"Cease this madness Seth!"
Voiced out a furious blonde haired woman. She had a tanned face like fertile soil, and a wreath of golden wheat adorning her head.
"Lyndell is no place for your LA 'Nat, especially a Hom-Dai"
The Goddess of agriculture pointed her finger at him seated within a council among of others of equal status.
The jackal faced god thumped his forked tail on the ground in displeasure and grunted, exhaling green smoke out of his snout.
"Demeter, oh naïve Demeter. These mortals are but playthings, they dance to our tunes and die at our whims. Why waste even the smallest of your fruit on them? Besides, I was offered a sacrifice of ten thousand, TEN THOUSAND! And you expect little old me to turn down these pitiful desperate souls? How cruel can you be, oh dear Demeter."
The Goddess gnashed her teeth in anger. She had much to say buried in her chest, but it was not the time, they still needed to figure out the whereabouts of Atharvana. Without her, they are outnumbered and the neutral Gods would offer no aid.
Sitting back down a soft sigh escaped her plump bisque lips. Her body deflated, cascading her beautiful dress down her seat like a forest of green atop a barren earth.
"Don't worry yourself Demeter, we will be sure to find her. Besides, Atharvana is sure to mock you for thinking so lightly of her. She is a warrior, the best of us maybe."
A reassuring hand grasped her shoulders warmly and a soft spoken male voice reached her ears. Trailing her eyes towards the owner of the voice, Demeter found herself consoled by a handsome man with long brown hair many strands of which braided, and a beard of similar nature; a true Viking beard.
"Many thanks, Freyr. I mean not to make little of Atharvana's prowess, yet worry still grips my heart. She is a dear friend to me, as are you"
The soft spoken man chuckled lightheartedly at her warm notion and his eyes turned unfocused briefly, as if remembering a vestige of the past.
"This prophecy she spoke of eons ago, are you familiar with it?"
Demeter looked around her warily, afraid of any of the present Gods overhearing their conversation. Assured that it was not the case, Demeter looked back to her fellow God.
"I-I am aware of it yes, but I am not sure what to make of it."
Freyr fixed his eyes on hers, his warm behavior vanishing like smoke and adopted a seriousness that would give even the toughest of warriors chills.
"It is upon us. The mistake that we hid since the dawn of time, our mistake, will be unveiled. The one who will detangle the strings of fate suffocating his destiny is the one who will..."
Fright tainted the beautiful face of Demeter as she listened to her friend. Each word would cause her heart to palpitate with much force and speed that it would threaten to jump out of her bosom.
Unable to endure the suspense, Demeter clutched at the tunic of Freyr not minding the curious stares headed her way and yelled at him
"WILL WHAT?! HE WILL WHAT FREYR?!!"
Sweat of the sweetest nectar dribbled from her hands, and tears of the purest elixir formed in her eyes.
The cause of all this chaos within Demeter raised his hands in surrender and the cold demeanor he had melted into a warm and relaxed smile.
"Well, the rest is a mystery, to me at least. I never listened too much to her ramblings. I just thought she got hit in the head too many times, you know how warriors are"
Demeter let go of her friend and sat back down in contemplation, her mind occupied in solving the puzzle, yet even the sisters of fate the "masters of destiny" could not completely solve its wonders.
'Freyr, Atharvana is a Goddess of spells and magic, she doesn't just ramble!'
Unbeknownst to the two, many Gods present in the hall of Elysium heard what Freyr said about the warrior gods and would bother their faction for it out of spite.
Yes, gods are bored with too much time on their hands.