#iirc someone asked me about archon war stuff way back when...?

[yuesya]

Gunther runs.

Behind him, there is a bestial roar, followed by a shrill human scream –one that cuts off into horrifying silence all to abruptly with a wet snap, the sound of tearing flesh and snapping bones. Something splatters heavily against his back. Damp, and warm.

Gunther continues running, forcing his legs to move faster, and faster.

It’s all he can do.

Terrifying monsters and ferocious beasts dominate these lands, and humans cower beneath them all. There are many who turn to the gods that walk among them instead, seeking protection, and yet–

And yet–

…

In old legends passed down by storytellers, this land had been ruled by humans, once. It had been an age of peace, and prosperity. But such times are long past, if they had ever truly existed at all. The current reality that they live in is a land where monsters prowl and beasts run wild, and of the few gods who remain…

Relying on the gods? Who could Gunther and his people rely on? The most powerful among the divine host are the beast-gods, and beasts do not care for humanity. Of the ones who are benevolent to humanity… 

The God of Fruit’s power is slowly diminishing, the bounty of her territory gradually declining with every passing season. And the most powerful among them, the God of Rain, had been slain in battle by the Wolf-king. So far, both the God of Fallen Leaves and the God of Mist that Gunther and his kin have approached following that catastrophe declined to accept them. To add more humans under their protection at such a juncture would be a strain, a burden. 

In order to at least ensure the safety of our own.

And so Gunther’s people march on, searching for a place where they can receive protection. Where they can call home.

Hopelessness. Desperation. Despair.

… But giving up is not an option. To give up is to die.

It’s for this very reason that Gunther continues running, running, running, determinedly tugging along his kinsmen beside him. He grabs wildly at the children who falter and stumble, all through the mind-numbing panic of his pulse thundering in his ears–

“DON’T STOP!” he bellows, through the cracked lines of his lips and his dry, burning throat. Through the exhaustion that batters away at his body, the invisible stones weighing down his limbs. “DON’T–”

The ground beneath his feet shakes, and Gunther trips, falls. Hot air scalds his body from behind, the bloody breath of the monstrous hound hunting him and his kinsmen for sport, and the dark shadow of its titanic bulk descends upon him–

–then, freezes.

Only for a moment, the monster inexplicably freezes in its tracks, ceasing its movements entirely.

Gunther is not about to take such an opportunity for granted; he instantly clambers to his feet to continue running. This causes the monster to growl as its prey escapes. Gunther chances a brief glance backwards, only to see the muscles on its body clench as it prepares to continue its chase–

But suddenly, its body slackens, and falls. 

The colossal mountain of a beast just –falls. Plummets to the ground in an ungainly, graceless heap, toppling down. The force of its fall is enough to send another earthquake through their surroundings, and Gunther slips in the mud once more. Something in his chest spikes from the sudden panic, at the knowledge that the beast is right there–

But the beast has fallen.

It falls, and… does not move again.

… 

Gunther stares, wide-eyed. 

It is in this moment, when his mind is still struggling to comprehend that this nightmarish monster is dead, that he finally realizes that there’s… something off about their surroundings. He hadn’t really been paying attention to it, during the mad rush to escape, but now that the imminent danger is gone… Gunther realizes that it’s far too quiet. The silence in their new, unknown surroundings is… unnerving. Unnatural.

Which doesn’t mean anything good.

Gunther sweeps his gaze out and rapidly scans the surrounding landscape. Left, and right. There’s nothing but muddy earth and light shrubbery. Desolate, and empty, save for his fellow kin around him who’ve also gradually slowed their footsteps at the beast’s sudden, inexplicable demise.

But… there’s nothing to explain it. Nothing to explain why the bloodthirsty monster pursuing them suddenly just –just dropped dead out of nowhere. There’s absolutely nothing to explain–

–no.

No, there is.

With a sudden start, Gunther realizes that he and his people aren’t alone here.

For above them, there is a young girl sitting in the barren branches of an old oak tree. 

A small slip of a girl, a little child who looks entirely out of place with her surroundings, pale-skinned and white-haired and dressed in nothing more than a single formless swathe of pristine white cloth wrapped around her body.

Most damningly of all, though, are those disinterested eyes that look down upon Gunther and his kin. A deep, abyssal blue. Blue, but not wholly blue, for there is an iridescent sheen that flickers within those dispassionate, inhuman eyes.

She’s not human. A god?

A sudden shiver runs down Gunther’s spine as he finally recognizes what he’s seeing. There’s no doubt about it.

Yet, at the same time…

“You are the one who saved us, aren’t you?” Somehow, Gunther manages to find his voice. Then, he swiftly bows his head, “Thank you.”

There is a long silence, in which the not-girl does not respond.

“… The dog was annoying.” Eerie blue eyes finally turn away from him, after that non-answer.

The appearance that she possessed, the aura that she exuded, the strength that she so very clearly wielded… there was no doubt about it. Despite wearing the form of a small, young child, there was no doubt that the entity sitting in the tree atop Gunther was a god.

A god who was… alone.

Was it because she was young, that she had no worshipers?

… But even if that was the case, she was still a god. A young god who was strong enough to kill the monster that had nearly wiped out Gunther’s clan without even moving from where she sat.

Gunther makes his decision.

“Please.” He knows full well that could be killed on the spot, for the impertinence to brazenly ask anything of a god. To ask for more, even after the god had already saved them, when they had no obligation to do so.

But Gunther also knows that his kinsmen can’t continue on like this –wandering aimlessly across the lands, constantly having their lives uprooted as they flee from monsters too powerful for mortals to face, always on the run.

“Would you… be willing to give us your protection?” he asks.

“Why?”

Does she not know? No… no, that couldn’t possibly be the case. Then… is this a test?

“Monsters such as the one you just killed number many upon these lands, and we lack the strength to defend ourselves” Gunther bows his head as he replies, forcing himself to steady his voice as best as he can, and slowly sinks to his knees. “My clan has no home, and we grow weary of endless wandering. We do not wish to die like this, as we inevitably will if we continue on as we are. Please, allow us to remain upon your lands. We would serve as your loyal worshipers, o mighty god.”

… There is no response. In this interval of silence, the wind sighs softly. A quiet breeze sweeps gently over them all, and even reaches up to lightly tousle the snow-white strands of the unknown god’s hair.

Gunther remains kneeling, staring fixedly at the ground in front of him while his fingers curl and dig into the dark, cold earth.

He doesn’t know how long he remains in this position. A single instant, perhaps, or maybe even an eternity.

…

“… Decarabian,” the god-child’s voice finally sounds in the air, and Gunther’s head snaps up –just in time to catch the sight of the divine entity uncurling her legs. She stands up gracefully, a movement that briefly reveals a pale expanse of flawless skin upon her limbs.

And it is with those unblemished legs that she descends from her high perch, barefooted. Dark blots immediately soil that fair, milky skin as her feet sink deep into the dirt and mud beside Gunther and his fellow kin.

“You may address me as ‘Decarabian,’” she says. “And… I don’t need worshipers. But you can stay.”