Many months ago, all too far and so tantalizingly short, the world of Adjara was beautiful and plentiful in life. People lived in peace below their beloved protectors, worshiping them with all the love of children to their parents as their protectors did the same. Life was peaceful below the heavens, but the same could not be said of the protectors themselves.
High above the highest peaks, tensions had long arose and festered over the lack of ‘excitement’ in the world below. The highest of the deities, Goddesses and Gods of the most powerful planes, showered praise on their children, casting more food and love and good fortune than could be needed in a million life times. Many younger deities, those of smaller sets of worship, followed their lead by giving few dangers to threaten the people.
Many, though, saw this peace as making the people complacent. What would let courage and love of life grow if not the excitement of battle, the hardships of everyday life? They sought the understanding of their elder deities, hoping to sway them to their plight. It didn't work.
Within mere days of the downturn of their plans, the six had grouped together, plotting for the revitalization of the people. They talked of releasing a plague, of a great famine, even a year of darkness, but nothing became of the plans until one, the minor ice goddess Emilikeia, suggested the release of a powerful dark goddess, Scarlett of disease, for a simple show of power. Something to make them talk. The group agreed.
Scarlett, locked within the Palace of Time, had long been a prisoner for her dark deeds in enacting one of the most hated and feared horrors of Adjara’s history, the Scarlett Rains. Now, they released her, with the oath that she would help them stir up some fun but would cause no prolonged misery.
It took but a day to start the war.
It took but an hour for the deities to lose and Scarlett to be freed.
Scarlett wrought revenge on those that had imprisoned her, letting her diseases run rampant through their children and causing suffering wherever she went. She didn’t stop there however. Instead, after a month of destruction on the surface, the queen of agony, as she had been dubbed, swept back to the Palace of Time ahead of the pursuing deities. The time was here.
She unleashed first the god of Blood, known only as the Bloodied.
She unleashed second the goddess of War, Lucinda.
She unleashed last the goddess of Magic, Koriuna.
Together, the three attempted to destroy Koriuna and harness her power, to render the other deities powerless and continue their reign for all eternity. They did not expect the goddess to escape, nor her actions after.
Koriuna, fearing the misuse of her strength, fled to the world of mortals and locked her power within her, and as she faded, locked her spirit within the soul of a pure being. Even to the calls of her family, high above her, she didn’t show herself. Instead, she became quiet, and even the person she held power within did not know she was there.
The god and goddesses of darkness, upon finding they could no longer enact their plans on Koriuna, moved to another plan. They descended to the mortal plane, as though as saviors to the people. Many fled to them, worshiped them and begged forgiveness for whatever wrong doing they committed.
The dark protectors took pleasure in the resulting slaughter.
With magic removed in all great amount, the deities above could do nothing to stop the further destruction of their beloved children, even as they were slaughtered, enslaved, and even eaten by those who once were their kin.
It took little time during this frightful reign to find the six responsible. Stricken by the grief and shame of what they had caused, the once protectors quickly found themselves at the mercy of their kin, to be tried for the acts of the dark ones…
Reddened clouds stretched below the trial, grown and shaped by the protectors long before into an open amphitheater. Seats rose on all sides, angry and weeping protectors of all sizes and shapes watching the scene before them like hawks. In the middle of the great sight stood eight of the oldest beings in existence, those of the moon, sun, life, death, time, nature, justice, and spirit, in an open semicircle.
The trial had already been long and heated, fed more by the accusers than the defendants. What had there been to say? The damage could be seen clearly through the clouds by all, a blackened, dead land offering little for the children to thrive with.
The defendants had offered little back, knowing what they had done could only be met with execution or worse. Instead, they knelt with heads bowed, some weeping for those they had hurt, others angry for those they’d been betrayed by. After many hours, though, the trial and quiet deliberation came to a close.
The goddess of justice, Cenillia, stepped forward. Her long robes spread behind her in stark white to her dark skin and her head was held high as she unsheathed her sword. All grew silent. “You are caused misery, death, destruction, and mayhem because of your arrogance. There is no justice strong enough, long enough, to redeem your sins,” she said. The six in front of her waited for the coming blows. When they didn’t come, many looked up at the mothers and fathers before them in confusion.
The goddess of life, Ginial, moved up beside her sister. She was as dark as the woman beside her, and as striking to see as a sword among a field of flowers. “However. Death has fallen far too heavily around us to add yet more blood to the ground,” she said quietly, towering above the six. “You shall instead be exiled, to recant your sins and sooth the horrors of the world below. But be warned, children of the skies. Should you misstep even once,” she said, eyes narrowing and voice growing darker, more thunderous. “You will be struck down and sent to wander hell for all eternity.”
The six, dumbstruck, were silent before her, even as the other deities joined Ginial. “Now. Be gone, and recant, or spend the rest of your days in exile,” Cenillia said. The heavens opened, and air rushed past the six. Then nothing.
The sun rarely shone now in the barren valley, red skies bathing the charred earth in bloody light. A rare few buildings stood here and there, with most nearly leveled to a single story or less, charred to husks. Bodies piled over the streets, left by panicked and overwhelmed residents. Little was left to identify to the once beautiful town, save for the only untouched building in the area. Perhaps it was cruel fate, perhaps it was meant to be hope, and perhaps it was chance, but the old temple to the protectors stood in beauty against the hell around it.
Tarsinta sat at a rise, unable to sleep. Was this really her world anymore? To look and see nothing but death and horror and know that the dark ones could always do worse? She sighed and looked up at the clouded sky, threatening acid rain as always. She closed her eyes, imagining stars above her head. “Please, even if not for me, please don’t let this be all there is,” she whispered, fighting back tears. She opened her eyes, tears falling across her gaunt cheeks.
Her eyes went wide as saucers as six tiny streaks flew across the sky, separating above the town. They disappeared before hitting the ground, but the sight was enough. Sin watched helplessly for a few moments, her heart fluttering like a butterfly in a cage.
‘Was… was that an answer?’
