In reply to Auriel (msg # 13):
Auriel drinks deeply from the soul well, and for a moment looks no different than before. He ponders whether the fountain was really just stagnant water after all, and then the weight of knowledge comes crashing down on him.
[Auriel gains a class: Godling]
The burden of godhood is immediate as Auriel's senses expand such that sounds, sights, smells, and feelings he'd been unable to experience before snap into bright, crystal-clear focus. He blinks his eyes, and notes that he can now perceive the finest of gossamer strands connecting all things to each other, to the air, to the ground, and ultimately to the pool.
To the soul well.
His focus hardens as he turns his attention to its waters, which now resemble amorphous forms. He can feel the vibrancy of life within them, but they seem too impossibly few to represent the sum total of creation.
He digs around for more, and senses a barrier of sorts at the bottom of the well, standing like a sheet of darkened glass. Beyond it lies an entire ocean of souls -- enough to boggle even an immortal mind -- cordoned off from the pool's waters. The ocean is dark and purple, and actively churning. It reeks of the past, and of Oblivion.
It reeks of life.
As he watches the ocean's waters, Auriel gains a sense of the souls it contains. Everyday people, mighty heroes, and common criminals alike. Everyone he has ever known, and failed to know. Everyone he has loved, and everyone he has killed. These occur to him not as a parade of individuals, but as a cascade of awareness. They are all there, somewhere, hovering between the ranks of the lost and the ranks of the found.
Auriel quickly learns that even gods have limits, for there appears to be no way to thwart the membrane separating this realm's soul well from the curious ocean beyond it. Despite his best exploratory efforts, the barrier will neither move nor sunder. He squints at the strands of magic binding the glass together, but is unable to pierce their mysteries beyond the certainty that they were forged from the ancient magics of an older god than he.
Perhaps additional hands would make the task easier. Perhaps the barrier is all that separates this tiny realm from annihilation. It is a strange thing, Auriel reflects, for a god to not know. But that does not make it any less true.
He puts a hand against the glass in frustration, and is startled to feel words forming in his head.
They create a message:
quote:
If you are receiving this, Creation endures...though under new management.
What follows is the last will and testament of a fallen pantheon. Or what remains of it. Take heart, for your situation is less bleak than you imagine.
Though Vora had the power to unmake souls, the vast majority of those who perished in the cataclysm simply died, their souls returning to the nearest soul well in accordance with their nature. Only those who died in Vora's realm, or by Her hand, are truly lost. This includes anything consumed by the maelstrom's maw, but not the hundreds of thousands who lost their lives in the violent merging of the planes.
Each of the planes contained a soul well, which was separated from the rest of its plane and guarded by a god. Souls came and went, replenishing their energy as they circulated. Vora could not destroy these if she wanted to become a Creator herself, nor could she destroy the souls within them. Instead, her plot centered on simply absorbing wells and souls alike, accepting any losses incurred as the cost of doing business.
Oblivion now contains the sum total of Creation, including all of the original wells. Only this tiny bubble remains. Blind as we were, we foresaw the utility of a spare soul well, one set apart from the rest. We prepared it, filled it as best we could, and sealed it from the other wells so as to avoid corruption.
You are standing in it now.
This soul well requires curation, and it is our fondest hope that you will succeed where we have failed. We strongly caution against destroying the barrier that separates this well from the rest. Doing so could court annihilation.
That said, we recognize that our judgement has not proven sound in the past. Thus, we have provided a key: Six immortal hearts have willed this wall into existence. Six shall be sufficient to tear it back down. Not only will this require you to come to a consensus concerning your first act as a pantheon, but it will encourage you to elevate other minds as equals. Godhood is impossibly lonesome; you will be grateful for your ageless companions, even if you do not always agree.
No matter which choices you make, know that you have the gratitude of a fallen pantheon for preserving at least some aspect of reality from the abyss. Godspeed in your endeavors.
Signed on behalf of the living and the dead,
Cenadora
Ka
Ma'or
Tassada
Cedrick
The Primal Voice
All of the above takes place in the blink of an eye. To the rest of Auriel's companions, and indeed to the villagers gathered around him, the only change to come over Auriel is a sense of calm as he rises and closes his eyes.