The flames of war had died, but their embers still smoldered.
I sat upon the war council throne, staring at the maps before me. The world had been divided by gods, now left in the hands of men. Kingdoms stood leaderless, generals fought for their own gain, and the people looked for someone—anyone—to guide them.
I had given them victory. Now, they expected me to give them order.
But order does not come easily.
Cassius, my chief strategist, leaned over the table. His keen eyes studied the shifting borders of the world.
"The eastern provinces are already stirring," he said, pointing to a cluster of territories that once swore fealty to the fallen god-king, Alzareth. "Without his rule, the warlords are already carving up the land. We cannot allow them to grow unchecked."
Rokan, ever the warrior, folded his arms. "Then we march. The people expect a ruler, not a beggar sending envoys."
"If we rush in blindly, we risk uniting them against us," Cassius countered. "They are divided now. Let them weaken one another first."
I listened, absorbing their words. Both had merit. But my vision extended beyond simple conquest. We were not just replacing the gods with another warlord's rule. We were building an empire that would last.
"We will not be tyrants," I said finally, my voice cutting through the debate. "Nor will we allow chaos. Send envoys first. Offer them a choice: unity under our banner, or war."
Cassius nodded, approving of the strategy. Rokan merely grunted. He preferred action over diplomacy. But I knew he understood.
"And if they refuse?" he asked.
"Then we will do what is necessary."
A World Without Gods
The envoys rode out that night, carrying my message across the lands. Some would accept our offer. Others would resist. Those who resisted would learn what it meant to defy the one who slew the gods.
As I watched them depart, a quiet presence entered the chamber.
Eryndis, the last High Sage.
She had once served the gods, wielding their magic as their voice in the mortal world. Now, she served me.
"You are walking a path that has no return, Aurelian," she said.
I did not turn to face her. "I walked that path the moment I raised my sword against the heavens."
"The gods were cruel, yes," she admitted. "But do not become them in their place."
I turned then, meeting her piercing gaze. Her silver hair shimmered in the dim torchlight, and her violet eyes held something rare—true wisdom.
"You fear I will become like them," I said. "But unlike them, I do not demand worship. I demand order."
She sighed, as if knowing I would not be swayed. "And yet, even order can become its own form of tyranny."
I said nothing.
Because part of me knew she was right.
The First Betrayal
The first envoy returned a week later. Bloodied. Alone.
He collapsed before the throne, gasping. "The warlords of the east… they answered with steel."
A dagger, bearing the insignia of the Serpent King, was buried in his shoulder.
Rokan stepped forward, fury flashing in his eyes. "So they have chosen war."
I pulled the dagger free, watching as blood dripped onto the marble floor.
"Then war it shall be."
The council room erupted in movement. Orders were given, banners were raised. Our legions would march by sunrise.
They had made their choice. Now, they would face the wrath of mortals who had slain their gods.
In the Shadows of Power
That night, as preparations for war unfolded, I stood alone in my chambers, lost in thought.
The gods were gone, but their whispers remained.
A shadow flickered in the corner of the room.
"You have done well, Aurelian," a voice murmured.
I did not flinch. "Show yourself."
From the darkness, a figure emerged. Cloaked in black, his face hidden beneath a hood.
"The world is changing," the stranger continued. "And you are at its center. But do not think you stand alone in this game."
"Who are you?"
He chuckled. "A friend. For now."
And then he was gone, as if he had never been there.
I stared at the empty space, my grip tightening around my sword.
The gods had fallen. But something else had begun to stir.
And I would be ready.