III. Golden Arc

When Gods Dream of Mortals

The union of gods and mortals marked a golden chapter in the annals of Arcania, a continent bathed in the light of harmony. The divine family, once distant and untouchable, now lived among the people. Mortals found new hope—a hope that wars would cease, diseases would be conquered, and a better future would bloom. Anias’s vision had come to life, and her efforts gave the continent its name, Arcania - The Land of Magic, where peace and happiness reigned.

For the gods’ children, this new chapter was life-changing. They had been beings of power but not of experience, untouched by the bonds that defined mortal lives. Living among mortals gave them something they never knew they needed—friendship. These bonds were not forged out of reverence for their divine heritage but through shared moments of joy, struggle, and laughter. For the first time, the children of the gods felt real emotions, raw and unfiltered.

For Eria, Marael’s first-born son and the strongest of the divine family, this newfound life led to something he had never dreamed possible—love. He met Nimue, the daughter of a blacksmith, with a heart as fierce as her beauty. She was no worshiper, no follower of the divine; she was a partner, an equal who saw Eria for who he was beneath his celestial perfection. Eria fell head over heels, his love for her igniting a fire that had never before existed in his heart.

For Anias, this was her greatest triumph. To see her son, once a cold and unfeeling reflection of Marael’s ideals, now alive with passion and devotion, filled her with pride. For Marael, however, this love was both a miracle and a foreboding omen. While he rejoiced in seeing his first-born experience the warmth of connection, fear gnawed at the edges of his mind. He worried that such powerful emotions—especially for one as strong as Eria—might twist into something darker if ever betrayed. Alassa, the luminous daughter of Marael and Anias, grew into a goddess of unparalleled beauty and grace. Unlike her brother Eria, who found joy in the companionship of his divine family, Alassa sought something deeper, something mortal. Her curiosity and compassion captivated her by their lives, struggles, and fleeting moments of happiness. During her journey, she once met Virion, a charismatic army general. He was a man of strength and conviction, and his mortal imperfection only deepened Alassa’s fascination. In him, she found a partner who saw her not as a goddess but as a woman. Their love was a bond that defied the boundaries of mortality and divinity, and Alassa felt more alive than ever before. Their relationship flourished. They were, sharing laughter, dreams, and plans for a future she believed they could build together. But even the love of a goddess could not shield her from the flaws of mortality. One fateful day, Alassa discovered the unimaginable—Virion had betrayed her with his servant, a young woman who had long served in his household. Consumed by fury and heartbreak, Alassa turned into a rage unlike any she had ever known. In her wrath, she slaughtered the servant and her entire family, their lives extinguished in a flash of divine vengeance. Virion, broken by grief and guilt, fell to his knees before her, pleading for forgiveness. But forgiveness was beyond her reach. Alassa gazed upon him, her eyes filled with the remnants of love twisted into hate. “You will know what it is to lose everything,” she said, her voice cold and unforgiving. With a wave of her hand, she stole his heart—not his life, but the very essence of his being. Stripped of his emotions, Virion became a hollow shell of the man he once was. She cursed him to wander the world, destined to feel nothing but emptiness. Wherever he went, his existence would be a shadow, his soul devoid of joy, sorrow, or meaning. Virion’s punishment was not death, but an eternal sentence of nothingness. He walked the lands as a wanderer, a man forgotten by love and untouched by hope. Mortals who crossed his path spoke of his hollow gaze and the chilling silence that surrounded him. When Anias learned of her daughter’s actions, she was devastated. Though she understood Alassa’s pain, the act of taking innocent lives and condemning Virion to a fate worse than death was a betrayal of everything Anias stood for. As punishment, Anias banished Alassa to the Eterna Citadel, where she would remain isolated from the mortal realm for the next hundred years. The punishment was more than exile; it was a catalyst for Alassa’s transformation. The heartbreak and betrayal left deep scars, and her once warm and compassionate heart grew cold. In her solitude, she reflected on the fragility and flaws of mortals, and she began to see them through her father’s eyes—chaotic, selfish, and unworthy of divine grace. She loved her mother, but the anguish she endured hardened her, making her distant from mortals and gods alike. Alassa no longer descended to the mortal realms. Her presence in the Eterna Citadel became a haunting reminder of her fall from grace. She carried herself with an aloofness that mirrored her father, Marael—neither kind nor cruel, but unyielding. While she still yearned for the connection she had lost, her trust in mortals had been irreparably shattered. Unlike her sister's tragic love, Eria and Nimue’s love only grew as the years passed. Their bond was unshakable, stronger than the finest forged metal. Yet, while Eria reveled in their life together, Nimue’s mind became plagued by doubt. She began to see the cracks in their perfect union—not in her love for Eria but in her mortality. She knew the years would weigh upon her, aging her body and dimming her light while her immortal husband remained untouched by time. Her greatest fear was not her death but what would come after—Eria moving on, her memory fading, and their demigod children becoming a distant legacy.

These thoughts consumed her, day by day. It was during this turmoil that she sought the advice of Mildor, an oracle who had fallen into disfavor since the arrival of the gods. Once a revered figure, his influence had waned in the shadow of divine presence. Resentment festered in his heart, and when Nibue came to him, he saw an opportunity to reclaim the power he had lost.

With the skill of a serpent, Mildor stoked the embers of her jealousy and despair. “There is a way,” he whispered, his voice laced with venom. “A path to eternal life, one that will ensure you remain at Eria’s side forever.”

Nibue’s desperation made her vulnerable, and Mildor’s words burrowed deep. He spoke of a forbidden tome, an ancient scripture that told of a ritual: if a mortal were to slay a goddess with a sacred weapon, they would inherit her immortality and divine power, and to Nibue, it sounded like salvation.

As her love for Eria burned brighter, so too did the shadow of her fear. The seeds of Mildor’s deception began to take root, twisting her thoughts and steering her toward an unthinkable path.