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vibque

After a particularly harsh winter, your father went out with 12 other men and 3 summoners in order to find a catalyst to wake the Harvest. In order to wake the Harvest after his slumber during the Winter, the Vibquians needed to find offerings of new life, and a sign that Spring was coming. Usually this meant finding buds of spring herbs, planted in the winter, or trees with new leaves.

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However, Winter held on exceptionally long this year. During the time that, normally, the Frost would lose his domain, the tracks in the mountains were still laced with ice. Leaves were still frozen within the branches and the Lake did not thaw. Perhaps more than ever, Vibquians wanted to wake the Harvest, but the troops that they sent out had not made it back. No one knew why, a later party, sent after the Spring came, found cold bodies in a crevice in the mountains. They were hailed heroes for sacrificing their lives for the Harvest, and their deaths, like all misfortunes, were blamed on the God of Mischief and Aide.

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The Harvest following the incident was weak, but with proper rationing, still sustainable. Spring came afterwards anyhow, so Vibquians were not on guard or wary of the suddenly changed Harvest.

Season after season, the Harvest grows weaker and weaker. Vibquians start to worship the God of Beasts instead, hoping for successful hunts instead of successful yields. But even the animals die out, and famine strikes. As the keeper of The Fire at the Mausoleum of Souls, you see that the growing amount of crystals signify a devastating truth. The seasons become more drawn out, and sometimes, you are not sure if it is dark because of Winter, or dark because Day did not come.

 

 

The summoners are in chaos as well. Despite their contracts, they are not able to contact their gods. Vibquians look to the summoners for answers, and when the summoners could not provide any, they, in turn, cursed them. You start hearing a lot of these phrases – curse the evil Frost for not relenting, damn the Harvest for being lazy and sleeping all the time.

 

 

Those few summoners who could contact their gods did not know anything either. Their gods did not speak anymore, despite still somewhat being there. But soon, these last gods join the forsaken ones; their legacies and names fade into oblivion. Vibque, once a central hub for worshipping gods, turns into a place of hate.

 

 

You too, cannot speak to the God of Fire anymore. Along with the Head Summoner of the Mausoleum, you only barely manage to make bodies into crystals. You can feel the god’s power fading with every passing day. And on one fateful night, the God of Fire left completely. The fire died within the Mausoleum, and the harrowing night turns colder.

 

 

The God of Fire’s page in your book is burnt, as tiny embers flake off the once vivacious glyph. However, this is the least of your worries. For when the day finally came, the Unknown Ones attacked.

 

 

In a matter of moments, the volcano explodes and fire rains from the sky. Fog suffocates Vibque. You see many of the residents, or what is left of the residents, flee to the mountains. In this time of chaos, you call out to your siblings, only to find them rushing to you as you all prepare to flee. Rocks begin to crash through the Mausoleum, breaking the crystal structures and fixtures. Through the screaming, running, and panic, you can hear unfamiliar bellows as a giant shadow looms over you.

 

 

 

Looking up, you see darkness. A mass of black rips away at the ceiling of the Mausoleum, causing the tremors to rock you and your siblings to the ground. As a symphony of crashing crystals fills your ears, the ceiling caves in. Debris is everywhere, and as you try to clear the fog in front of your face, you hear a voice beckoning you.

 

 

Summoner, do you believe in the gods?” Trying to ignore this voice, you reach out to find your siblings. Calling their names – your brother grabs your hand, but your sister is lost in the dust. The voice spoke again.

 

 

Even when your gods have … abandoned … you?” You scream out for your sister. The tremors rocked the Mausoleum, like an earthquake. The air smells sour, as the lava from the volcano envelops everything, slowly creeping down towards your door. Your sister did not answer your pleas, nor your brother’s pleas, but the voice came back again.

 

 

If you do, contract me.” Ever so slightly, in front of your eyes, a glimmer of distortion indicates the presence of a weak spirit. But you do not care. You pull on your brother’s hand, trying to navigate through the ash and the stone, to find sister. But before you can take another step, the shadow over the Mausoleum becomes darker, as if something is coming closer and closer. This time, another chunk of the crashed ceiling is ripped, and with it, a form is revealed. With the backdrop of the sun, a dark figure emerges through the clouds.

 

 

“I am a god. I can save you.” Ignoring the voice and the gigantic thing ripping away at the Mausoleum, you call out once again for your sister. Your brother calls for her too. This time, you hear heavy breathing. Your brother grips your hand harder, and emerging from the haze behind him, you see your sister’s silhouette. She is alive.  

 

 

I am the God of Mischief and Aide. I will make it worth your while.” The distortion in front of you gets brighter, as a white wisp forms, like a small cloud of light. Before you can ask any questions, you see a dark mass come towards you, as if grabbing at you through a tiny crevice in the wall.

 

 

“Do it. Save us,” you answer. You close your eyes to start chanting the glyph. Your book page was burnt, but, at this point, you might as well try. Gripping your brother’s hand, you can feel a rush of darkness aiming for you. But before anything hit, you feel nothing.

You wake up, but you do not remember sleeping. The sun beams down on you warmly, and you are gripping something in your hand, so hard, that it hurts. The grass prickles you, prompting you to sit up.

 

 

Looking around, you are on the side of a mountain somewhere. No one is around you, but there is a small crater a little bit down from the edge. As your gaze clears, your memories flood back. Your brother and sister – wherever this may be, they must be at the crater. Opening your hand, you find two crystals, a bit dusty, but nothing can take from their shine. There are small engravings on the side of them, and you recognize them immediately. Your brother must have had them in his hand during the chaos.

 

 

Quickly trudging down the side, you approach the crater. But instead of any humanoid figures, you see a … defeated… blob? A sense of urgency and dire start to creep within you, as you walk towards the thing in the dirt. Your siblings are nowhere in sight, but you are left with something.

 

 

As you get closer, you realize it is some type of round, purple monster. It has wings, like a bat, and two small horns growing at the top of its head, like a deer. Upon closer inspection, it has a tail too. Approaching it, it begins to stir. It begins to orient itself, and sits up on its hind legs, like a plump rabbit. It hops in the air, and turns around, whipping its tail in a crescent, and faces you.

 

 

“Hello Summoner,” it says, through its rather large mouth. White eyes stare toward your direction, but not at you. “I am the God of Mischief and Aide.” You reply with silence and let the conversation drop dead within the air. This god turns its head and body to the side and chuckles a bit.

 

 

“I sense your fear, but you agreed to the contract. And I saved you.” Again, you do not speak. Instead, you wonder if this was just a really bad dream; in this unfamiliar place, missing your siblings – what part of this is saved? You feel something prodding through the despair in your soul.

 

 

“Ah. Not them, but I did save you.” Your eyes widen after hearing this.

 

 

“As per our contract.” You stand there in stunned silence, as rage boils in the core of your being.

 

 

“Why are you sad? You are alive.” Heat rose to your head. Memories of its deeds flash before your eyes, engraved within your brain. This god – the god that killed your father, the god that wrecked the harvests, the god that broke the balance between day and night, the god that left your brother and sister in the culling – this despicable god had no right to sa-

 

 

“That was not me,” it says, sounding intrigued. “Humans blamed me for it, but that was not my bidding.” As you open your mouth to retort, it cuts you off.  

 

 

“Are you curious what … is responsible?” The taunting question catches you off guard.

 

 

“Do you want to know what happened?” Emotions rush into you like a dam finally giving into the flood. You do want to know. But before all else, you want to save them.

 

 

“If you pass my trials, I can bring you back. But before then, it is impossible.” The god paused, sighing, before continuing, “I … do not have the power to. I cannot bring you back until my powers are replenished.”

 

 

It inched closer. “You must pass my trials. Even if you will hate yourself afterwards, you must.” And hopping closer, it continues, in a disdained voice, “so we can save your wretched town.” You can almost sense the seething distaste in the air before the god turns around again and faces the valley far below the cliffs. The rage dissipates quickly, as if masked by a façade of indifference.

 

 

Feeling the breeze drifting between the strange mountains, the tiny god speaks again. “So, Summoner – will you wallow in the grief of your situation? Will you curse me like your brethren do? Or will-” You watch its tail flick to the other side as something once again prods your soul, as if looking for signs in an open book.

 

 

“That is an admirable resolve,” it says, amused. The god scrunches low to the ground, and then leaps in the air to take flight. It sniffs the air and turns towards a path leading to the valleys. “Follow along, and I will make it worth your while.”

 

 

You quietly walk after it, slowly descending the mountain in the warm midday sun.

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