Black Heart

Chapter three: The Fallen Deity or The Accended Mortal

(If anyone is still reading past this point I just want to say thank you! And I appreciate you! Mwwa Mwaa xxx)
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Mavis and Theron, under the quiet cloak of the night, gently lifted Ludachel from his cradle of stars. Each step they took was burdened with the gravity of their newfound plight, an intricate dance on the tightrope of fate. The air around them hummed with the silent song of sorrow as they moved towards Ludachel sanctuary, a place known only to the Hollows, a place Mavis only found because her son, who could speak and communicate with the guardians, once brought her along.

Admeirs, the god of creation and one of Mavis's most powerful sons, awaited them in the silent glade that served as their meeting point. His power to create was a mirror to Mavis's ability to breathe life into existence, making them a formidable duo in the realm of the gods.

As they revealed the dire circumstances to Admeirs, his eyes, usually vibrant with the spark of creation, dimmed with the weight of responsibility now placed upon his shoulders.

Understanding the urgency and the stakes, Admeirs consented to their plan. Together, they would create a world for Ludachel—a sanctuary where time and destiny could be held at bay, a place where he could grow under their watchful eyes, untainted by the intrigues and dangers of divine politics.

The creation of this world was nothing short of miraculous. Admeirs shaped the land, the mountains, and the seas with a thought, crafting landscapes of breathtaking beauty. Mavis, in turn, breathed life into Admeirs's creation, filling it with flora and fauna, with rivers that sang and forests that whispered the oldest secrets of the universe.

However, the dangers lurking beyond the borders of this crafted haven required more than isolation. So before they could finish their creation and seal it into fruition, they needed to ensure that Ludachel's existence remained a secret, hidden even from the prying eyes of Seraphim and Sherph.

To this end, they sought the assistance of Eve, an enchantress known for her mastery over memory.

Centuries before the land had turned to desolation, before destiny had been rerouted through the weaving of one ill-fated spell, Eve was but a mortal.

Her story was one of devotion and profound connection to the world around her, to its energies that pulsed, unseen by the eyes of her kin.

In a small village shadowed by the grandeur of the gods, Eve spent her days in the tranquility of the shrine dedicated to Mavis, the goddess she revered above all.

Eve's devotion to Mavis was not born out of fear or desire for protection, but from a deep-seated appreciation for the life that Mavis represented, the burgeoning and nurturing force of existence.

The shrine, a modest structure built from stone and adorned with wildflowers, was her sanctuary, a place where she could feel the immediate presence of the divine.
Mavis, in her celestial realm, could not help but notice the unyielding faith of the mortal woman, her aura bright with an unspoken power that was rare even among those who walked the higher planes of existence.

This power, though undeveloped, was an innate ability to connect with and manipulate the energies of the world, a talent for crafting spells not through incantations but by sheer will and understanding of the cosmic balance.

Touched by Eve's devotion and intrigued by her latent abilities, Mavis made herself known to the mortal woman in a rare act of divine intervention. The goddess appeared not in a blaze of glory, but as a gentle presence, a whisper of wind and warmth that enveloped Eve as she knelt in prayer.

"Eve, your faith has resonated through the veils that separate our worlds," Mavis spoke, her voice a melody that seemed to echo the harmonies of life itself. "But it is not just your devotion that has called me to you. You possess a gift, a potential that extends beyond the mortal coil."