Player Epilogue: The Oath

The twilight sky falls into night again, strange constellations pricking the darkness. The smell of persimmons and orange trees permeate the air as a winged paladin pulls his blade from the body of a dead fox spirit. He kneels over the body, the scab-like scales of his armor shifting unnaturally with his movement. Almost as if it is alive.

“No blood. Damned gods.” At his words, the other member of his party looks over at him: an aaracokra with half his red-tipped feathers burnt off and barely growing back, a frying pan tucked under one wing.

“Long toothed demons, no taste. No good. Ring says we move on.” The red-feathered aaraocokra’s voice is raspy from overuse. “What’s that? No, food not here. World Dragon…”

The other aaracokra’s eyes glazes over as he looks at the sky. There is no moon in this sky, let alone a World Dragon curved into a crescent like a maggot exposed to the light. Athaeos the Willbreaker lets his companion rest and lets his senses spread across the plains of Sidastrea’s domain, seeking that taste of evil that is both noxious and intoxicating. He needs another kill. Something with blood this time and a soul that doesn’t try to wriggle away from his blade.

But instead, he senses a celestial being hovering close by, a subtlety to its essence that reminds him of a small kenku child he had once known–an irritating little god.

A crow caws to the north. It settles on a dead branch only to be followed by another and another until the tree, barren of leaves, is coated in iridescent black wings and beady eyes.

“Feathers. Snack.” The insane Berel Helder begins to chant a spell, but Athaeos clamps his beak shut mid-recitation.

“Stop hiding, you pitiful god. We know you’re there.”

Several of the crows burst from the branches and fly towards the pair of aaracokra, coalescing into a thin figure draped in star-dipped robes.

“State your purpose. I don’t have time for the likes of you.”

But you have enough time to hunt my wards? The voice rings in his head. Much like…

“You talk like her, like the little omelet! I will devour you!” Berel pushes past Athaeos and dives with a fork at the star-robed figure. Before he can reach her, a single finger stretches out from the robes and taps the aaracokra’s forehead. He falls limp to the ground.

Athaeos readies his stance, sword drawn. “Who are you and what did you do to him?”

I am the guardian of this place. Some say goddess, others call me the Silent Sister. No matter, I am Sidastrea, twin to Bcaesorr and cousin to Pupsilludo. You need not fear for your friend. He is simply dreaming.

Athaeos does not relax his guard. “You are one those who kept your distance while thousands died at the hand of Tt’bok’yul. If I had my way, all of you who hid from his crimes should perish into oblivion.”

There is time enough for that. I am not one who sees the future, but I can see the balance of the world and that balance has been tipping one way for far too long. There will be a day you see the scales tip in your favor, young one. After all… With silent speed, the goddess of dreams is before Athaeos, her long beak dark as night and her eyes full of swirling images that Athaeos knows all too well.

It is not all gods whose death you seek… Just one.

A vision of a fire glints in her eyes, the curl of red against a vast spread of wings that burn the sky. 

What will you give me if I hand you the one who kills your people when they reach the beginning of their adulthood? Will you offer me an oath, Oathbreaker?

Athaeos hesitates. Sidastrea, this goddess who harbors the pitiful and the weak, the hungry and the worst of the outcast gods, has read his dreams. He should feel insulted, angry, but the memory of the last time he set foot in the Phoenix’s temple is still festering in his mind. The open sky where the remains of those he had loved were nothing but ash drifting across a white field clouds. The children who never know their parents’ names. His own life, destined to be a sacrifice against his choice. All because of one god and one promise.

But to trust another one of these gods? Even one as despicable as this?

As he wavers, the goddess extends her hand. In its palm, he sees the one thing that can change his mind. A weapon that could pierce the heart of any beast, even one burning with an eternal flame.

And he nods.