Shifter War
“And furthermore,” Veray continued before Aidyn could respond, “if shifters don’t really care for the gods, why are you constantly swearing by them?”“Habit,” Tam said just as Aidyn replied, “I’m hoping it’ll annoy the hell out of them.”
Veray glanced between the two men as a trickle of mirth ran round the room. “Why don’t you like the gods?”
Aidyn shrugged. “Because they don’t like us.”
“Can you blame them?” Janna muttered.
“Long ago,” Katri's quiet voice cut through the laughter, “the shifters rebelled against the seven gods of the Spindle Spire.” Silence fell as all eyes turned toward her words.
“Some tales say the shifters claimed the gods were merely men. Men and women of extraordinary power and gift who had demanded worship and obedience as their due when they had no claim to it.
“Other tales say that it was the binding of the Gifts into the web that enraged the shifters. That our power and strength was much greater before the gods twisted the magic of the world to their own ends.
“But most agree that it was the death of the dragon king’s brother that struck the final blow to peace between the gods and shifter-kind.”
Bolat's wife flicked her hand and a perfect dragon of red and gold beat up out of the flames, hung suspended in a wreath of smoke for two heartbeats, then plunged back into the fire below. A round of appreciative murmurs rose up.
“Shynar’s blade had long since grown drunk on the power of those it slew. As had she. Haidryn had sworn to free the king's brother, but through trickery Shynar kept him from coming to his friend’s aid. The brother and his mate were slain. The dragon king believed his friend had betrayed him. In his fury, he carved Haidryn’s hand from his arm and swore vengeance on the entire Court.
“But though he gathered an army of shifters and creatures of wild magic numerous enough to cover the mountains, they were no match for the power of the gods and their followers. They fell, one by one, until only the dragon king remained, kneeling at Shynar’s feet as her power kept him bound to his human form.
“As he lay in the blood of his own folk at Shynar’s feet she vowed that her followers would hunt his to the very halls of death. From generation to generation there would be no escape for the shifters of the Bound Realms. And they would begin with the dragons.”
“Thank the Slayer that bitch is dead,” Aidyn muttered.
“Shh!”
“Did she kill the king?” Veray asked.
Katri shook her head. “No. Her vengeance was far more cruel than that. She decreed that he would never meet his loved ones in the halls of death. He would sleep and not die. He would dream of all that would befall his people and be helpless to stop it. Shynar left him lying in the dirt and blood, among the carcasses of his own folk, and walked away. Long afterward, those of his army who had escaped the wrath of the gods crept back and found his slumbering body. They carried him away to dream in his mountain palace until the end of all days.”
The last sparkling image dissolved into smoke and silence reigned in the hall.
“So he’s still sleeping?” Veray finally ventured.
“Perhaps.” Katri shrugged. “Perhaps he died when Shynar’s power passed from the world. It’s a tale long told with no true end.”
“Thank you Katri. Well told as always.” Murmured agreement met Tam's words. “Perhaps now something more… comical?”
Shifters had suffered mild persecution for centuries under the gods. As one of the few Gifted who remained within the Bound Realms whose Gift was not a product of the Seven Divinities, they had long been considered something of an abomination. A sport of wild magic that had infected the Bound Realms. This persecution came to a head with the Shifter War.
Following the war Shifters were hunted without mercy throughout the Bound Realms. This relentless persecution led to the founding of Varangia as a safe haven for Shifters and outcasts of all creeds.
It took several centuries after the Fall of the Gods for the slaughter to degrade into a mutual but rarely violent distrust.
Comments