"Do your duty and leave the rest to the gods." – Pierre Corneille

When word of Luce's death spread across the kingdoms, many turned out on the streets to mourn the Sky Priestess. Her aloof temple, where she lived in and corresponded with the gods, was left untouched until the funeral procession was over. White lilies decorated the steps of the shrine, a bright contrast to the dimming gold structure, an image most found fitting for the kind priestess.

Talbot, the elderly seer who taught the Sky Priestesses the traditions and rituals of the gods, looked on from the bottom of the mountain with wary eyes. Though his eyes were weak, he could perceive things others couldn't, and there was something very wrong with how things were unfolding. His aching bones tingled from the ominous foretelling of future ruin. It was something he had felt once long ago and could not ignore for it was his duty, but the grief of losing his brightest disciple made him weary, susceptible to some anger at how fate could have wronged them both so; he let it settle in his blood and nothing more. For now, he would grieve and prepare for the next-in-line.

The first day was far too telling. Fresh rain didn't pour on the earth to mourn Luce's death and no wind blew in the valleys or stone-paved streets; the night was starless with no moon in sight and no sound came from the woodlands, as if the critters and creatures had ceased to exist. Everything had come to a standstill.

The people thought it oddly quaint, a sign that the gods had admired Luce so much that they could not bear the news of her death or go out of their way to properly mourn. Talbot thought different. After every Sky Priest's death, the gods would go out of their way grieve in their own ways. As powerful as they were, they were inclined to some inkling of human emotion and expressed it in their own mysterious ways.

When the sun didn't rise on the second day, Talbot quickly sent word to fetch Kawahira, the High Priest of the Trinisette Temple in Vongola Kingdom. A soft-spoken man with thin, silvery spectacles, Kawahira was a talented priest with a deft hand in magic to protect the gods' essences. Reliable but mysterious, he was the only one who was able to carry out his duty without fail, and the only one who had managed to keep his post for years, never aging, never wavering. No one dared to find out his secrets or stand against his him lest they wanted crops ruined or newborn babes, both man and animal, dying.

It did not take long for Kawahira to arrive at Talbot's side, silent as the nonexistent wind. He looked solemn, his lips pursed, a strange sight since the priest would always be smiling. Talbot braced himself for the worst, but when the other man spoke, he felt his breath leave his hunched body as if he'd been struck.

"When I woke, they were already gone," Kawahira said gravely. "I searched the premises but there was no presence of anything that had even entered in the first place. They all simply vanished and my sight has been clouded from finding them."

Silent, Talbot reached for his cup of tea, still warm in his quivering hands, and sipped it for a moment. His throat felt awfully dry. When he set down the delicate cup on the small table, it was empty. Outside, there was no telling if it was day or night. The skies were black. There were no clouds, no sun, not even the stars or the moon. Only the oil lamps and lit candles in the vast, cold temple could provide some light and warmth for the moment, however superficial; the smoky scent of incense faded long ago. It was at this point, the people started growing restless and Talbot could only feel the same—it terrified him.

"What are your plans then?" Talbot said. "Has there been no word at all?"

Kawahira's lips twitched into his first smile in their meeting though it didn't reach his eyes. In the muted darkness, the shadows on his soft face cast a black mask on one half. Talbot suppressed a shudder.

"There is no word," Kawahira said, as if speaking to a child, "because we have no messenger." Talbot wilted, remembering Luce's pale face on her deathbed. "And there is no word, because the gods have disappeared."

Talbot stiffened. "Disappeared?"

Kawahira's smile stretched a little further. "Yes, disappeared. The items in my temple are not only relics, Talbot." He was the only who referred to Talbot by his name and not his title. For the first time, it unsettled the elderly man. "They are the very gods themselves, their essence."

It took Talbot a moment to realize what he meant, and when it finally dawned on him, his bones shook. "You… You… How could you?" His voice was nothing but an agonizing whisper. "They are gods."

"There is a purpose for everything, Talbot," Kawahira said, stretching out a pale hand. Eight different-colored orbs danced along his graceful fingers, an illusion. "While I am not fond of the gods as they do with me, I do like my treasures. We must find them unless you want the world to drown in shadows and have demons appearing on every corner. Remember, they thrive in the dark. Imagine the carnage in their wake after being contained for so long."

Talbot watched as the small orbs disintegrated in the palm of Kawahira's hand, leaving nothing behind. His heart ached for the poor gods, his poor Luce, but quiet, simmering fury pulsed in his veins at Kawahira's wretched ways. For a moment, he felt like the youth he had been so long ago, thrumming with the thirst to fight. He did not flinch when Kawahira levelled him with a shrewd gaze. This was not the time to be afraid.

"I will send for Aria after the third day," Talbot said.

"Time won't be kind on us."

"Tomorrow then."

"I'll remain until then."

Talbot didn't answer. In his mind, his rickety gears started to turn. Kawahira was not the only one with tricks up his sleeves.

The ceremony was not as grand as the past ones had been, and there was no point when the gods weren't present to officially accept the new priestess. A sea of candles surrounded Aria's small body but the young girl held her chin up high, bearing the elaborate gold-and-white headdress her mother had once worn proudly on her head. The shimmering ends of silver tinkled in the silence. In front of her was a bowl of incense the burned faintly, releasing soft fumes of smoke in the air.

"Aria," Talbot said from some feet behind her, "do not expect to hear from them. Just try to reach out as far as you can."

"I know, Highfather," Aria said, curling her hands into fists on her lap, wrinkling her white tunic and robes.

Talbot nodded. "Then do not let me keep you."

Taking a deep breath, Aria closed her eyes and let the magic of her bloodline hum in her veins. She drew on the warm wisps like her mother had taught her, let them dance around her core, before she released them like shooting stars. Her breath hitched but she didn't open her eyes. Her magic wasn't as potent as her mother's but it was enough to do, at least, this much. It swept across dead valleys, through the black skies, around still rivers and creeks, and seeped into dying roots. She tried to find something, anything—a trail, an imprint—that would lead her to the gods or where they have gone.

Instead, her magic found nothing, and Aria had no choice but to let it recede before it strained her. Still, she didn't think of giving up. There was too much on the line. Her mother wouldn't have, so why should she? She let her magic return to her center but didn't let it settle—she let it see. Visions of red and black bled into her mind; screams and snarls echoed around her in loud frequencies; steel against steel, flesh against flesh; strange, terrifying wails in the dark; then, two amber eyes snapped open, illuminating the shadows. Orange fire burst everywhere, overwhelming her sight, before Aria was forced to back off.

Heaving a deep gasp, she collapsed onto the wooden floors, letting the surface cool her damp skin. Her robes clung onto her body, wet with sweat, and she shivered when two handmaiden appeared by her side, helping her up. One of them dabbed some cloth on her forehead. Their voices were hazy, her vision even more blurry, but she could make out Talbot and his purple robes standing behind them with Kawahira.

"I couldn't find them," Aria gasped out, ignoring her handmaiden's comforting words. "They're—I couldn't see them. It's like they never existed! Where did they go, Highfather? Where did they go?"

Talbot hushed her gently. "It's alright, Aria. Do not fret. It's alright."

"And what did you see?" Kawahira said, his face eclipsed by shadows.

Aria had never liked the man; neither did her mother. There was something off about him, something ancient and repulsive. "I saw chaos," she said, parsing her words in her scattered mind. "I saw death, calamity."

"Anything else?" There was a searching look in Kawahira's gaze but Aria was much bolder than her mother, with a spirit that the warrior goddess, Lal Mirch, had admired.

She thought of beautiful amber eyes and warm fire eating away the shadows, the ghost of a touch on her forehead that promised healing, peace. She thought of colorful orbs encircling the lone figure in the distance, content in their lazy dance.

"No," she said. "There was nothing else."

If Kawahira suspected anything, he didn't say. Aria let her eyes flutter shut before surrendering to slumber, remembering her mother's tales of heroes and monsters as if she were by her side again. She would worry about him another day.

Days passed and Talbot could do nothing as the world sunk into chaos, just as Aria foretold. Even without her prophecy, it was clear that humans were at mercy to the gods or whatever unknown entity caused such ruin. He did not tell the people or their kings and queens that the gods had disappeared; that would be one less thing to worry about as demons and other grotesque creatures wandered in the dark, bringing old folktales alive.

He heard of revolting villagers, of starving children, of rivers running dry and crops wilting in the barren fields, but there was nothing he could do, nothing anyone could do to keep the world afloat. All he could do was sit in the penitent comfort of his temple and hope. Kawahira had disappeared back to his shrine to look for clues or some signs of where the gods could be, but his words were nothing to Talbot. Not anymore.

It wasn't until Kawahira left when Aria finally approached Talbot, pale and tight-lipped. "I saw something else," she said so quietly that the old priest almost missed it. She gazed into the many candles that lit the paths in Talbot's shrine, watching the red-orange flames burn on their wicks. "I saw someone in my vision. I think he was a man, but I don't know who he is."

Talbot held out his arms, letting Aria settle in them wordlessly. Time flies, he thought fondly, stroking her blue hair. Aria had grown from a small babe into a fine young girl. Luce raised her well. "What do you mean, child?" he said.

When Aria didn't bristle at the small endearment, Talbot knew that she wasn't in a good mood. He frowned; it was too soon for Aria to let go her innocence.

"I don't know who he is," she said. "I've never seen him before, but the gods—they were with him." She furrowed her brows. "Or will be with him soon. I'm not sure." Before Talbot could question her further, Aria continued, "He had strange eyes, but they were beautiful, like amber. Not quite orange." Talbot's weary heart nearly stopped. "He burned with bright fire, and it made the shadows disappear! The strange thing is that they didn't burn me. Well, they were overwhelming but I felt so safe, like I could trust him. He reminded me—He reminded me of Mother…"

A bout of silence passed, settling kindly in the air. Talbot found that he didn't mind it, even though he missed nature's whispers and songs. He held onto Aria a little tighter, as if she could be snatched from his arms any moment. "What do you think it means?" he said.

Aria pursed her lips. This was definitely a test. She thought of her words carefully before saying, "That man might be the key to ending all this chaos. The gods might have chosen him for another path before or maybe after. I'm not sure." She sighed tiredly, sounding older than the tender age of 14. "But I'm certain that we need him. All of us."

Talbot didn't correct her. There was no point. "Yes," he said. "We do."

As he spoke the quiet words, a young hunter stumbled upon a tiny orb embedded deeply in a desolate creek, setting forth what was to come.

A/N A plot bunny escaped. Oops.

So yeah, a fantasy!AU. We need another one of these, am I right? :^D

At this point, I just realized how much I gravitate towards Arco27 and I don't know what to think about that, lol. And I keep making them gods so there's something up, lol.

This story won't be as long as my other ones. I was thinking maybe a couple of chapters, making it a short story, that kind of thing. (At least, this could be one complete multi-fic under my belt…)

Things also took a darker turn I thought but it isn't so bad, I think. The plot can work with it. :^D

Thank you so much for reading! I hope to see you again in the next chapter.

Have a lovely day~

Little Miss Bunny