Work Text:
01. A Story of Destruction, from the Sun
Gods.
Those who are bestowed with the power of nature.
Those who give power to nature.
In this world, there are many ways to become a god. Some were born through the grace of the gods, some were born as the fruit of love between a god and a human. Some were created directly by the Kephale, the ancient gods of 'pure' blood who have ruled the world since creation. Then there are those born not of flesh or mixed blood, but from the prayers of humans. From endless lamentations, from hopes directed to the heavens whenever the earth feels too heavy for humans to bear.
However, the gods who were born from endless prayers, who were the answer to human lamentations and all forms of solutions to the problems that bothered humans, mostly did not last long. Even so, their strength is absolute. The more prayers that are offered to them, the stronger their power over the commandments given to them becomes. So when humans stopped chanting their names, their bodies slowly faded and disintegrated. Forgotten by the world.
The god of terror and destruction, Mydeimos, is one such god.
He embodies the pain of the world, the wrath of all living creatures, and their fear of walking in the mortal world, rooted in violence that spreads like a parasitic plant. Mydeimos, a name uttered in the prayers of those ready to conquer their dreams, hoping their name would be as terrifying as the presence of the Gods. Mydeimos The conqueror, whose name is loudly proclaimed to those seeking recognition throughout the world. A god whose power grows as temples are built in his name. The heyday of Mydeimos was when the world was raging and tense. A time where wherever humans go, a red expanse will always accompany them. When humans vied to destroy one another for recognition and power. To be feared, respected, throughout the world.
Mydeimos' temples were always filled with war songs. The blood of enemies and the fear of those more powerful were frequent offerings made to him.
Until a new dawn of human civilization had begun.
Unfortunately, the glory of Mydeimos had to end when terror and fear almost disappeared from the face of the earth. Once so desperately needed, the world was now cast aside as peace began to envelop the world.
New prayers and hopes were born, stemming from the deepest human sincerity. Kephale could see the trembling souls of weary humans after hundreds of years of endless terror that had wiped out their hopes. In his humility, Kephale created a new god as a symbol of the changing era.
Created from the warmest sunlight, untouched fertility, and the beauty of the world itself. Child of the sun, he who brings spring and returns love to the world,
Phainon.
Destruction has departed, a new beginning has arrived.
The entire universe welcomed his birth. Offering their best prayers to the god who is said to be their messenger. That will spread grace as beautiful as spring.
The wind sang over his birth.
The birds chirped loudly, as if to announce his presence to the world. Plants grow abundantly, as if to symbolize the reason for the god's appearance in the world.
However, not everyone is happy.
As the consciousness of the terror that had been thought to have disappeared slowly returned from its slumber, bringing new plagues and fear to the world. His form was disfigured, red carvings covering every inch of his flesh. His gaze was wounded and sharp, making anyone who met his gaze feel his pain. The existence of those who are considered despicable affects those around them. Crops are reluctant to grow, diseases are eating away at people, and new disasters are starting to emerge like nightmares.
'Mydeimos has come back to the surface as a thorn in the side of this world!' so they say.
Humans who once worshipped him now only hurled hatred and curses at the disease he brought. They began praying to the Kephale for his removal. Or at least their new god could answer their lamentations.
But the newborn god was no match for the long-standing terror. However, a small measure of prevention was still possible. At the behest of Kephale, Phainon became a messenger and brought fertility to the barren lands. Like coolness on the hottest day, he contributed greatly to calming the flames of wrath that threatened to consume the world. His name was increasingly invoked in worship. Temples that became places of worship began to be built in the name of Phainon. Although he could not eradicate Mydeimos's influence, Phainon at least succeeded in becoming humanity's last hope for faith in their gods again.
In the turmoil of the disasters unfolding across the world, the story of the sun's glory finally begins.
---
"Now that we know the story of our god," Cyrene's voice rang out softly, "let us offer our most sincere prayers to him in devotion. What he has done for humanity can never be fully repaid unless we pray for him with—"
"Lady Cyrene," a gentle baritone voice interrupted. All attention was immediately focused on him. A man, with hair as white as clouds and eyes as blue as the sky, gazed gently at the crowd of people while leaning against one of the hall's pillars.
"Isn't story time over? It's getting dark, and I'm afraid these children's parents will be worried if they don't come home soon."
The woman smiled, both embarrassed and amused. Her eyes narrowed perfectly, and a soft, playful curve graced her face as she rose from her seat.
"Lord Phainon, forgive me. I got a little excited telling these children about your birth. Well... Got carried away?"
Phainon smiled back. He walked further into the hall which was decorated only with white pillars, and then stopped right in front of Cyrene and the children. The little ones sitting in a circle cheered happily at his arrival.
Phainon didn't speak immediately, just looked at each face in front of him. All the gazes that were directed at him reflected nothing but pure admiration and enthusiasm.
Ah, the innocence of children, thought Phainon.
He knelt down, trying to be at the same height as the children who were sitting down and then said, "There is still tomorrow for this long story," said Phainon while observing the children's faces one by one. He quickly added, "There will always be time, but for now, I hope you return safely to your homes. Your families must be starting to worry. I promise I will tell you my story in person."
The children's eyes sparkled again. Some even smiled at each other then looked back at Phainon.
"A-are you going to tell us directly?"
"A story straight from the god himself!?"
Dozens of questions began to emerge. Phainon gave a sincere smile, then looked at Cyrene and nodded in acknowledgement. Understanding what Phainon meant, Cyrene then approached the door gracefully and confirmed Phainon's words.
"As Lord Phainon said, you can come back tomorrow to hear him tell his story. How about it?" After having convinced them, the woman ushered the children out of the hall and bid them farewell one by one. Phainon was right. The sky began to be colored with a tinge of blue from one side. A sign that night will soon come. After the last child disappeared from her sight, Cyrene re-entered the hall. There, she watched Phainon walk around the hall at a leisurely pace while looking at the carvings on the pillars.
Cyrene cleared her throat softly, then drew closer. She aligned herself beside the god. "What brings you here, Lord Phainon?" she asked. Even though she already knew for sure the reason for her brother's arrival. There are only two things that could make Phainon come here. Seeking peace and... His worry returned.
The owner of the name only glanced at her briefly, then snorted in amusement at the words of the woman beside him. "There's no need to address me that way, Sister. We're not welcoming guests right now. You may address me as usual."
This time Cyrene laughed softly in return. "It's a pleasure to call you that. Besides my respect for you, you truly deserve to be called that. Don't you agree, Son of the Sun?" She said with a mischievous tone.
Phainon sighed, "Oh, how many times have I told you not to make such excuses again... being called that by my older sister makes me look like the impertinent sibling."
"You are worthy, my brother. My defense will remain the same."
"I've never been able to argue with you, Cyrene."
"As it should be." They both smiled at each other again.
Phainon walked back toward the other pillar with calm steps. Occasionally, he would mutter something as he gazed at the carvings on the pillar. Every now and then he would touch the stack of parchment briefly, then put it down again.
On the other hand, Cyrene watched her brother with affection. Her love for her little brother never faded, and his fast growing brother only made her love increase. Ever since Kephale created Phainon, Cyrene knew she had to protect him. She always felt compelled to protect him, whenever and wherever.
His smile was as warm as the sun, Cyrene would do anything to keep it intact. When Phainon is safe in this world, that is when Cyrene will truly feel at peace. But unfortunately this cannot be realized yet, because... destruction is still roaming out there.
The god of terror and destruction, Mydeimos, has become increasingly insane since he was almost forgotten by the world. The situation becomes unstable as time goes by. Even though Phainon has done much to save humanity, destruction seems ready to disrupt it at any inopportune moment.
Cyrene's mind suddenly wander. Flashed back to several hundred years ago when the other gods and goddesses complained to Kephale about the destructive impact that the mad god had brought to their realm. They urge Kephale to do something about Mydeimos. Like 'destroy it'. At that time, Kephale remained silent as he listened to his sons and daughters' complaints. His eyes were staring off into the distance, his expression blank as if he were daydreaming. Or so everyone in Amphoreus thought, except Kephale actually 'answered' after the gods had finished their complaints. Shortly after, Kephale rose from his throne, causing the entire room to stand up automatically. His authority was so strong that no one dared to speak and waited patiently as he fell silent again after standing up.
"I will find a solution," said Kephale.
All of Amphoreus was whispering. Most of them were whispers of disapproval. The air suddenly felt very heavy, a feeling of unease settled in the minds of every god present there. The previously silent room became increasingly noisy as cries of protest began to come from those who were dissatisfied.
'Thats it? Why not kill that wretched god!?'
'Destruction only brings himself! Unless we end him forever!!'
'What is Kephale thinking...'
'Better eradicate one God than doom the rest!'
'Mydeimos is no longer a God, he is a monster who born from the world's wrath!'
'Peace Will never be found as long as he lives'
'Think of the consequences..'
'Reconsider this!'
"O' Kephale, hear our plea!"
"SILENT."
Time seemed to stand still. The tension returned with more weight. No one dared to speak anymore, perhaps even breathe. Everyone's heads were bowed before the world, Kephale. Even Cyrene, gifted with keen hearing, couldn't hear anything; it felt as if everyone were merely statues, serving as decoration.
Kephale slowly descended from his throne. Although each step was light, the soft echo of his footsteps was louder than any response. It filled the entire room like a command.
At the bottom of the stairs, he stopped. However, a strong hierarchy is still felt even though the Kephale and the gods attending the room are treading on the same level ground. His broad, ancient gaze swept over his children. The oldest had their heads down, as if staring at the floor was more pleasant than looking at their father. The youngest trembled, wishing they could get out of there as soon as possible.
"My children," Kephale began. His steady voice rang out again with the weight of creation itself. "I have heard your lamentations."
The silence still prevailed.
"It is true that destruction continues to come unchecked. It is true that fear creeps into everyone's mind, in a world where peace should be growing. But know that God is not a prey that can be easily disposed of."
The low whispers filled Amphoreus again.
"Mydeimos has torn a rift in the world," Kephale explained. "But that is the burden of his duty. Remember that he was created from the terror and destruction of every living creature. What is now abandoned and hunted like cattle." Kephale held his head high. "His madness was forced upon him by the world, not by his own choice. Do not think I am blind to what you have done to Mydeimos!" His words weighed as heavy as the thickest iron.
Cyrene knew what Kephale meant. In recent decades, many of the gods had been unable to contain their hatred for the Terror. They had made numerous attempts to eliminate Mydeimos. There had been numerous assassination attempts and ambushes. Such cowardly acts, Cyrene thought. But no matter how hard they tried, Mydeimos would always live. Some were wounded by those who attacked him. Some are lucky because they are still 'alive'. As despair began to gather, a cunning plan began to be thought of by the despicable ones.
They stopped trying to kill Mydeimos. After realizing how Mydeimos was created—through the prayers of his followers—they began targeting and killing his remaining followers. A city that had always faithfully worshipped Mydeimos, the warrior city of Castum Kremnos, became an easy target and was razed to the ground overnight. Their flawless plan relied on a natural disaster as a weapon. Even the god of law could not fault their actions. Many turned a blind eye to the incident. The reason is of course because most of them are tired of the destruction that Mydeimos brings and the revenge.
Cyrene lowered her head, her heart aching at the bitter truth that was right in front of her but she couldn't do anything.
"My children," Kephale spoke again. "I will not destroy him." His words were absolute. "But I won't let this mess continue either," Kephale added.
"There is always another way to resolve a persistent problem like this. And I command you not to fear taking the law into your own hands. After all, Mydeimos is still one of us."
Kephale's words that day were still etched clearly in the minds of every god present. A father's promise to his children who strive to be just.
Cyrene returned to the present after hearing the loud clink of a falling goblet.
Phainon, the culprit, simply grinned as he scratched the back of his head, which didn't itch. "Sorry," he said softly. He placed the goblet back in its place and walked back to the center of the hall. The dome of the hall opened, revealing a night sky dotted with thousands of stars. A cool breeze occasionally brushed against Phainon's face, bringing refreshment to his stiff body. Cyrene followed Phainon to the center of the hall, this time saying, "You haven't answered my question, brother."
Phainon tilted his head to the side, glancing at the woman out of the corner of his eye. A hint of sadness flickered in his gaze.
"I'm worried," he said. "Some things are going through my head," he continued shortly.
"What's troubling you, brother?"
"Terror," Phainon replied a second later, a flicker of fear flashing across his always calm gaze. Cyrene tensed, almost knowing what her brother was going to say next. "I wonder when this nightmare will end. When the terror and chaos are truly gone. Surely the world will be so calm and peaceful without him. No human will suffer anymore."
"We won't really know for sure," Cyrene countered. "But one thing we can hope for is that the god is dying. Peace will come someday. We just have to wait, brother."
Phainon nodded. His body language implied that there were still many worries lingering deep in his mind, but he tried to remain calm and not pour out his entire heart.
"May you be right. May the destruction disappear someday."
"Hopefully so"
---
After a simple satisfying talk with Cyrene to ease his worries, Phainon decided to go for a walk. Aedes Elysiae had always been Cyrene's favorite city, and she would visit openly and enthusiastically whenever boredom set in. At first, she would come simply to relieve her boredom, but then it became a regular visit with no apparent reason. When Phainon asked, Cyrene would only reply, 'Go there and find out the reason for yourself.'
Curiosity finally overcame Phainon's indifference. One day, he visited Aedes Elysiae in person, and after learning the reason, there was no reason not to fall in love with this small town. This city, although it looks small, has a always busy atmosphere. The air was cool, and sometimes the breeze carried the fragrant scent of wheat. The people were very friendly, with their gratitude for the endless bounty of nature, so much so that visiting gods and goddesses were highly revered. The city was beautiful and 'serene', their unspoken rule of non-violence respected by many people, even outsiders. Aedes Elysiae became a perfect place to seek solace in all that was happening in the world.
Phainon began to feel Cyrene's habits rubbing off on him. He came here more often now, enjoying his time with the people of Aedes Elysiae. Sometimes he would join Cyrene who was busy telling local children stories of the gods and goddesses. His sister delighted in being the storyteller. Happiness flowed slowly through him every time he saw this scene.
For a moment Phainon wished the whole world were like this. Peaceful. Except for the constant reminders of the destruction raging outside. It was his duty to bring joy and peace back to the world. To fight the merciless terror.
Phainon promised in the name of Kephale that he would fulfill his responsibility and spread spring again amidst the dry season.
After being satisfied with walking along the streets that were starting to become deserted, Phainon decided to walk along the beach. On the shore, he could see the flickering lights of torches from the island across the way, creating the illusion of an orange glow, like an evening sky, amidst the darkness of the night sky. Satisfied with the view, Phainon returned to walk along the shore, where the waves were now rising as the night wore on.
Feeling the cool water against his feet, Phainon reflected on his greatest hope for the world. For peace, for the disappearance of terror. He no longer wanted to see the waters turning blood-red, adorned with stiff bodies, with terror and fear still etched on their faces.
Except when the terror collapsed not far in front of him with a body covered in golden blood and clothes in tatters. Several arrows were still stuck in his back, further highlighting the battle scenario that may have taken place.
The god of terror and destruction, Mydeimos, lay helpless before him.
A single blow to the neck—or to the heart—would be all it took to kill the god. To end all the terror that still surrounds the world.
Phainon approached slowly. The wind seemed to freeze his widened gaze. Suddenly the night air felt colder many times over. He felt one of the arrows embedded in the dying god's back and then pulled it out with determination. Golden blood splashed onto the surrounding sand, only to be washed away by the rising waves. After looking at the arrow in his grip stained with golden blood, Phainon turned the god's body around.
He watched him silently.
Soft whispers began to be heard, urging, inviting, tempting him to do what he should do.
'End him, end this long night.'
His hands trembled, his breathing becoming slightly labored.
With his position on his back, Phainon could see the face of destruction clearly. This was actually the first time he had truly 'seen' his face. Often Phainon only heard about him from the stories of other gods and devotees who claimed to have encountered him or merely glimpsed him.
Of the many stories, the things that are definitely in every one of their utterances are: Terror, monsters, nightmares and the ugly forms of the world.
Mydeimos.
The same Mydeimos, which at this moment was just... Engraved with pain and strangely... serenity? On his face.
The whisper came again, this time even more demanding.
'End him'
'End the world's nightmare'
'End him'
'End the terror that spreads like a parasite'
'End him'
"One stab to the heart, and end all human suffering."
Phainon's hand gripped the blood-stained arrow tightly as if it were the last hope. His determination was firm.
After focusing its sharp tip towards Mydeimos' heart, Phainon was ready to stab the arrow deep into Mydeimos' heart.
To eradicate the plague that is harming the world.