Episode 5: The ritual

Draekor and Vareem: The Alliance of Shadows and War

Draekor and Vareem met in a secluded place, far from the eyes of the other gods. It was a dark space, where shadows danced on the walls and the air was hard to breathe. Draekor, with his black cloak that seemed to absorb all light, turned to Vareem, whose eyes burned with a thirst for conflict.

"You know why I brought you here," Draekor said, his voice hoarse and full of hidden intentions. "Diedra is a threat to all. But for us... she is an opportunity."

Vareem crossed his arms, his armor gleaming in the dim light. "An opportunity?" he asked with a short laugh. "How can she be an opportunity for us?"

Draekor smiled, a cold and calculated smile. "Because she holds the key to a power that can change everything. If we control her, we will dominate not just the earth, but the heavens as well. But if not... she will destroy everything we have built."

Vareem clenched his fists, thinking about the glory he could gain. "And how do you propose we control her? She is protected by Elyssara and Thalira. And Azeron... he won’t stand aside forever."

Draekor extended his hand, and his shadow stretched across the wall, forming the silhouette of a monstrous being. "Azeron is weak. He thinks he can maintain order, but order is an illusion. We must act now, before the others organize."

Vareem nodded silently, his eyes glowing with dark determination. "Then let’s do it. But remember, Draekor, I am not your mere tool. If you try to betray me, you will regret it."

Draekor grinned, his shadow dancing on the walls. "I expect nothing less from the God of War."

Elyssara and Thalira: The Alliance of Wisdom and Love

Meanwhile, in a bright and lively place, Elyssara and Thalira met under the eternally green trees of the Garden of Eternity. Here, time seemed to stand still, and the air was imbued with a deep sense of peace.

"I felt the shift in the balance," Thalira said in a calm and meditative voice. "Draekor and Vareem are moving. And Azeron... he is about to make a mistake that will cost us all."

Elyssara turned her gaze to the sky, where white clouds drifted peacefully. "I know," she said. "But we cannot let fear guide us. Diedra is more than just a mortal. She is hope."

Thalira nodded, her wise eyes scanning the horizon. "Yes, but hope can be dangerous if it is not guided. We must help her discover her power, but also understand the responsibility that comes with it."

Elyssara clasped her hands, feeling the weight of Thalira’s words. "And if we fail? If Draekor and Vareem manage to corrupt her?"

Thalira looked directly into her eyes, her expression calm but full of determination. "Then we will do what must be done. But we will not become like them. We will not let fear transform us."

Azeron: The God of Order in His Crusade

Azeron, who until then had tried to maintain neutrality, felt increasingly cornered. In his private hall, where everything was arranged with perfect precision, he stood before a map of the world, watching how the forces shifted.

"Order must be maintained," he murmured to himself. "But how can I maintain it when my gods are turning against each other?"

In his mind, a painful conclusion began to form. Diedra was the source of chaos, and if she were eliminated, balance could be restored. But this thought made him uncomfortable. Was he really willing to sacrifice a life to maintain order?

"Perhaps Draekor is right," he thought, his expression dark. "Perhaps sometimes, order requires sacrifices."

As the gods forged alliances and plans in the heavens, the mortal world began to feel the echo of their actions. In the darkness of the night, the sky seemed to change. The stars, once calm, now flickered like unstable lights, and the clouds swirled in a chaotic dance, forming strange and threatening patterns. Ordinary people, living simple lives, began to notice strange and inexplicable signs. People gathered in the central square, staring in horror at the sky.

"What is happening?" an old man asked, his voice trembling. "Why are the stars dancing like this?"

A child, standing next to him, pointed to a distant spot in the sky. "Look! That cloud... it looks like a monster!"

And indeed, the clouds thickened, forming shapes that seemed to come to life – creatures with dark wings, sharp claws, and eyes that glowed like sparks. Rivers, once flowing peacefully, began to swirl, forming whirlpools that pulled everything into the depths. Trees in the forests began to shake their branches, though there was no wind, and their leaves fell, even though it was the middle of summer.

In the temple, once a place of peace and prayer, it now seemed like a dark tomb. The candlelight flickered weakly, casting long shadows on the stone walls. Serathis stood at the altar, his head bowed and hands clasped, trying to connect with Diedra. But he felt nothing – only a cold and silent void, as if an invisible barrier kept him from reaching her.

"Why can't I feel her?" he murmured to himself, his voice full of frustration. "Where are you, Diedra?"

At that moment, the altar door opened slightly, and a priestess entered with light steps and a worried expression. It was Samira, one of the temple’s most loyal servants. "Serathis," she said in a gentle but concerned voice. "Have you found anything about Diedra? Or about Veyra?"

Serathis lifted his gaze, his tired eyes meeting hers. "No," he replied, his voice weary. "I can’t feel her. It’s like she’s completely vanished. Not even a vision, not a sign."

Samira clenched her fists, looking around the altar, where the weak candlelight seemed to fight against the darkness. "And the people... they no longer come to the temple," she said with a voice full of sadness. "They look at us with suspicion, as if we are guilty for everything that’s happening."

Serathis nodded silently. "I know," he said. "But we can’t blame them. They are scared. And we... we can't offer them any answers."

Samira approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "What can we do then?" she asked. "We can’t just sit here, waiting for the gods to show us the way."

Serathis lifted his gaze, his eyes shining with a spark of determination. "I have a plan," he said. "A ritual. If we unite our forces, perhaps we can contact Diedra. Or at least find out what’s happening with her."

Samira looked at him with a mix of hope and concern. "A ritual? But... it’s dangerous. And what if we attract something we can’t control?"

Serathis pressed his lips together, thinking about their limited options. "We have no choice," he said. "If we don’t do something, everything will collapse. And then... then there will be nothing left to save."

Preparations for the Ritual

In the hours that followed, Serathis and Samira began preparing the ritual. They summoned the remaining priests who still stayed loyal to the temple – just a few, as many had abandoned their posts, overwhelmed by fear and distrust.

In the ritual room, where the gods’ symbols were carved into the walls and the candlelight danced on the stone, Serathis gathered them all. "I know many of you have doubts," he said with a solemn voice. "And I have them too. But if we don’t try to do something, everything we’ve built will be lost."

The priests listened silently, their eyes betraying a mix of fear and hope. "What kind of ritual?" one of them asked with a trembling voice.

"A binding ritual," Serathis replied. "We will try to contact Diedra, to feel her presence. If we succeed, perhaps we can help her. If not... at least we will know we tried."

The Ritual

The priests sat in a circle, each holding a lit candle. Serathis stood in the center, eyes closed, hands outstretched. "We begin," he said with a calm but authoritative voice.

They began to chant an ancient song, one that had not been used for generations. The words were old, filled with power, and the air in the room seemed to vibrate. The light from the candles grew brighter, and the shadows on the walls seemed to come to life, dancing in a hypnotic rhythm.

Serathis felt something change – a subtle but powerful presence. "Diedra..." he whispered, trying to connect with her. But instead of feeling her presence, he felt something else – a force that seemed to pull him into an abyss.

"What is this?" he murmured, his voice filled with horror. "This isn’t Diedra..."

At that moment, the candlelight flickered violently, and a cold breeze swept through the room. The priests began to stagger, feeling as though an unknown force was overwhelming them.

"Serathis!" Samira cried, her voice full of panic. "Interrupt the ritual! Something is wrong!"

But Serathis could not stop. He felt something pulling him, a strange voice whispering in his mind. "Do you want to know the truth?" the voice whispered. "Then follow me..."