The New Cosmic Order Part One
As we arrived in his divine realm we are greeted by marble and bronze. Great white pillars that surrounded the central structure, a great dome caps it, with gears and cogs, clocks and pendulums. He is speaking to another, similarly dressed. Brown vest, and slacks, white collared shirt. Though Sinclair's skin is darker, a deeper brown than the man who stood before him, and he lacks a smile. The other smiles wide, with bright white teeth, and a shamrock embroidered on his chest.
“Is it not disingenuous to call yourself the god of luck, when you decide how the die lands?” Our god asked the other.
“Is it not disingenuous to call yourself the protector of time when you are the one that breaks it?” The other god has a youthfulness to him, a measure of joy in what he does, in what he says, and his comment causes Sinclair to break a small smirk, enjoying the banter with the god of risk, Zortgelia.
“I believe it was my dear Iris that broke it first.”
Zortgelia laughs, “You know that's not true, just the narrative we push. She likes being an anti-hero.”
Sinclair nods and turns towards the center of the structure, away from us, he steps in and looks upon the console I know is there, but that I can not see. “My agents may approach.” Our god orders us and we walk up the stairs so we may too see the console, and the illusion that floats above it. A black dragon attack, a burning city.
Zortgelia, now standing beside us furrows his brow, “That was a great battle, the first time the Legends faced a dragon, and when we met Ryan Mugo and Francois.”
“Ryan is the key here, Agents. You will go speak with him, before the battle, you will ensure he is in the streets at the moment of the attack, and you will tell him that he must find Alistair the Righteous, a knight of Orekoa, and Gamrith, a dragonborn who hides behind the name Deadshot. You will tell him to join the Legends, but find the myths. You will tell him that his destiny is to save the world, and to cause the genocide of his people.
Zortgelia cringes, “Maybe leave that last part out.”
“Ryan must go to the temple of Otakoa in Gruzta, there he will be killed.” Sinclair speaks with a measured tone, “But first he helps the legends, and then he takes Ralph Wentz to the myths.”
I nod and I feel my fellow agents do the same.
“Time depends on this. Besar's defeat here is why he goes to the home of Ramon Lacon, it is why he confronts the Myths, and it is how Iris sends him to hell. It is what causes the Treaty of the Eclipse to falter, and what leads Otakoa into madness.” Sinclair steps forward and adjusts the watch on his wrist. “I will see you in a moment.”
Purple and green lightning static start to surround us, and I see fear in the eyes of the young goliath beside me.
Zortgelia looks at us with a smile. “Good Luck!”
The New Cosmic Order Part Two
“He needs us to kill her, end the reign of the old gods for the last time.” She was a wood elf, short and pretty, with a weariness in her eyes you would not expect from someone who looked so young. Her eyes... a twinge of purple in a basket of hazel, crows feet that lie and a sadness of a thousand lives past.
Even shorter, with freckled green skin and bright red hair, a bouncy chest and wide hips, and bright, vengeful eyes “I'm an old god too, you know.”
The wood elf nods, “You were, Eromena, but you died, a bunch of times actually.”
Eromena nods and shrugs as if to say “fair enough.”
“How do we kill a god?” A tall woodelf asks, a toned ranger, and now long time agent of Sinclair.
“I assume with a sword.” Olavi, a young goliath woman adds.
The forth agent, an older Teifling, stays quiet. Between the tiks and toks, the pendulum swings and the passing of seconds she ponders. She thinks of everything she left behind. Of her mother, and her daughter, of the grandson she knows she will meet, but only briefly. The life of family and of love that she will never know, a life she gave up for the greater good. This greater good. Apparently killing gods is the greater good now. “I'd like to hear this from Sinclair, Nellie.”
“Sinclair is busy, apparently a puddle and a rabbit have caused some issues.” Nellie responds, clearly irritated. “I understand this is too big, but this is the job. She needs to die so the next phase can begin.”
“Next Phase?” the young goliath woman asks, she has only had a few missions with us so far, but its been all the important ones.
Eromena laughs. “I used to honestly think that Zeo and Otokoa were the assholes, but look at this! The Prince of Laban can't even give us the order himself? Do you how many times I died for the new gods?”
Nellie is overcome by a profound sadness. “Do you know how many times I have died for you?”
The divine realm goes silent but for the gears of the clocks.
Nellie takes a deep breath. “Time's not a straight line, you all know that. You've been there, you've fucked up and you've fixed it. You all know what you can do, the question is why do you do it?”
Alton speaks first, “Because he asks us to.”
Nellie and Eromena shake their heads, agreeing that he is wrong.
Olavi stutters “Cause...cause... because thats the way it happens.... the way it always happens.... happened.”
Nellie nods, “Almost.” She takes a deep breath and begins to pace, the Agents of Sinclair take a moment to breath too. The idea of killing a god, makes everyone nervous, especially as an Old God, one to rule since the Treaty of the Eclipse, one to rule as Queen of Gods, one who killed the Cosmic Order.
Nellie turns back to them, now on the other side of the paradoxical display that was at the heart of the realm of Sinclair. The illusion now was just a die, with twenty sides, and it is rolled, again, and again and again, and yet it rolls, every time, a 17, with green sparks as it settles, Nellie knows what is happening, she watches her son, her brother, her father, her lover, her husband, all born, again and again, and again, all different, all alone. She watches as her self sees a dozen men, all different, all the same. She watches as they make the same calls, the same decisions, she watches as they all choose Zortgelia.
She takes a deep breath and for a moment doesn't see Zanneth, instead she sees a teifling. Sometimes cocky, sometimes angry, sometimes scared. Weak, strong, stupid, smart, who knows what he is? Besides maybe his mother? Triti is strong, she is weak, she is angry, she is sad, she is escaping her family, she is searching for it. She sees rejection.
Besar Katu embraces death. Baz Tertu rejects it. Baz, born of tempest, of chaos, of a storm, he seeks nothing more than peace. Quiet. Silence. He seeks a good roll, and he needs one to be with him. A man in a brown vest with a shamrock embroidered on the chest takes Baz's hand, and that of another, one with the morals of a paladin, with the heart of a gambler, with the soul of a thousand others. He gets a seventeen.
Gaius, Nelson, Gneaus, Brutus, Liam, Bazal... Zanneth. Seven and One Ten. A dozen and five. Three less than twenty. Seventeen. Seven less than two dozen. Ten and seven ones. Three fives plus two.
17.
Pious. Funny. Strong.
17.
A dance can destroy the world, it can save it. It can destroy a person, or create it.
Nellie focus's, on this moment, this group, Alton, Mama, Olavi, Eromena... This is who we need in this moment. They must end the old goddess of Knowledge, they must end the reign of the old gods.
Zania stands in the darkness with a clipboard. “This is awkward, but she's already dead.”
Comments