An Extract from Swarmthief's Treason

Prologue

It is a fact not often discussed, that every living thing carries within them the seed of their own destruction. That seed may be a physical weakness or a more intangible quality, such as the irrational drive to prove oneself through reckless heroism. So, a tree might die, unable to fight the rot at its core and a mortal may die in a glorious fury of passion; the result is the same, each is just as prey to the patterns of creation as the other...

And we Gods are not immune to such a flaw either, perhaps it is even worse for us as we exemplify the qualities that mortals profess to aspire to – or in my own case, despise. Herrukal, the great Creator, the imagined 'Father of the Gods,' had a flaw that ran through him as surely as a vein of gold through otherwise impenetrable rock. It was pride – or rather an excess of that quality. Herrukal was so assured of his own indomitable power that he never, in all of time, saw fit to question his own decisions – he never looked back and he never wondered how the ripples of his judgements manifested themselves on the world of Myr amongst those who worshipped him. If he had stopped to examine the results of his actions, things might have been different, but, as I said, he never did. Whether he cared or not for the fates of men, I cannot truly say.

His banishment of the Nulefi was at the heart of the situation and I suppose you could surmise it was my fault. But then, I acted from the best of motives – don't mortals claim some redemptive power for love? Why then, cannot gods be meted that same forgiveness? Of course, had I known Herrukal's ire would be so catastrophic for the Nulefi, and my own Aria – perhaps I would have planned my actions with more precision. I merely intended for Aria's soul to come into my keeping for eternity. But there, perhaps I am as guilty as Herrukal himself – for as he did not later check on the results of his ruling, neither did I look ahead...

But I digress; for the love of Aria a sequence of events began to unfold which none had predicted, god or mortal. On banishing the Nulefi's spirits to the ether Herrukal was complacent in the extreme.

"As gone as they can be, Rann," he had said to me then. Well, therein lies the problem, none can ever truly eradicate the essential spirit of a god, even those gods considered lower caste by the rest of us. After many lifespans had elapsed, the essence of the Nulefi, irrepressible and elemental, sought once more to find form. And I was waiting for them, because of all the Gods of Myr, I am perhaps the most patient.

I had learned that the spirits of the Nulefi were surfacing in the forms of the giant dragonfly Swarms used by the priests of Chasia, the Shemari. Through alchemy and magic they animated these creatures, dedicating their service to Oshi lest the gods be irritated by their presumption. It was a complex magic, fuelled by the prayers and worship of the faithful; most of the energy produced was vented skywards in an invisible, constant wave of prayer to Herrukal. Only a small amount was retained and transmuted into kyermah, a physical liquid used to move the Swarms, this was made possible by the Abax, a fusion of rock and magic whose channels underlay the city of Gremeshkenn Tem.

The Abax was ancient by mortal reckoning, the Swarms, less so, only between seventy and a hundred years had passed since first their thrumming wings beat the skies of Myr. But already, the minds of men equated them with the might of the gods and we, who benefited from this reinforcement of their beliefs were indolent enough to ignore an act of singular creation whose sheer arrogance should have been punished. The Swarms of Myr flew with impunity for a long time. But now, they were at risk because, in their efforts to find form once more the Nulefi had unbalanced the whole system. Their striving lessened the magics of the Abax – Herrukal began receiving less prayer, less adoration – which is as air to us gods. Despite the fact he had done nothing to build the elegant system of adulation in the first place he was angered by its potential demise. Without careful consideration, Herrukal concluded the root of the problem to lie with mortals, heresy it seemed had crept like an unwelcome shadow across the land of Chaisa. He decided to punish the world and sent a star to scourge its surface.

You should understand that it probably would not grieve him to destroy every mortal on Myr if it should be necessary. He would simply have to re-build. Start again with potentially fewer worshippers... you must remember, we have all of eternity to play with...

The other gods began to reason with him to stay his hand but I was otherwise occupied; I began to gather up the Swarms that contained fragments of the Nulefi. So far I had two of the creatures and one un-hatched egg and I was watching them closely. There was no recognition from them, and I was unable to discern whether each creature was one of the sisters of the Nulefi or whether their spirits had been irrevocably combined. Once I had them all together, such dark enchantments would be required to undo Herrukal's spite that the world of men would be shattered - so you see, the unacknowledged race was between myself and Herrukal for the destruction of Myr. If his star impacted before I was ready, I would lack the resources to complete my work.

So far, all seemed well. My lackey, Achios, had assisted me in gaining Falloden Sen, the ancient estates in Cantroji, which were the exact centre-point of Chasia. There, I held my Swarms captive while my agents, the tengu, searched across the empty reaches of the world for the other, missing eggs. There was something bothering me though... during the short battle we had had – more of a massacre really – in order to capture our prize, something had happened. It was almost an intangible thing, and since no other deity had contacted me nor had Herrukal summoned us all, I was inclined to think I had imagined it...

The nearest sensation a mortal being might experience which could compare would be a sudden, brief shock of such magnitude as to leave one breathless and disorientated. We immortals very rarely experience such frailty or sensation, and when we do, it is worthy of note – we all feel it, to the core of our being – it represents the birth of a new god.