“Lysander will come to the same conclusion. When the Illar lost their crown to the ‘lesser races’, the strongest amongst them vowed to destroy that which gave the Thayne power. They learnt to harness it first, to weaken the gods, and then sought to destroy the Tap forever.”

“But they failed. His allies are gone. The Thayne are all but powerless.”

“Apotheosis has been trapped here, betrayed by his kin, for millennia. His mind, though once one of the purest and most brilliant has warped into a vessel of ruin and rage. Lysander thinks himself mighty enough to kill something far worse than a Thayne.”

Ruby watched, transfixed by the image but uncertain what to believe. Lysander draws his blade and advances slowly, his allies approaching behind him and spreading out. The Illar, an elf radiating light with wings of energy trailing behind him smiles warmly.

“I have waited an eternity to see the gods brought low. Now, you have the audacity to think yourselves better?”

“The Thayne were once brothers to you, Apotheosis. Two parts of a whole that crafted this world and many others.” Lysander bowed.

“You are not my equal.” The voice reverberated in Ruby’s chest. The temple shook.

“That much is clear. You have become something far greater than a Dunam. You are King of Kings; man and elf and god bow before you and tremble.”

Leopold clicked his fingers and the image froze. Lysander, blade held aloft, ready to charge. Apotheosis, mid summons brought his wings forward into bladed arrays.

“What happens next will change the fabric of reality.”

“Show me!”

“Look at me, Ruby.”

Hesitant, Ruby turned away from the vision to her husband.

“You are witness to the death of the last Illar. The beings who created all of us. Man. Elf. Orc. They were beings of light without true form who spanned the stars before their brothers turned against them.”

Ruby tried to recall her history lessons as a debutante but fell short of something insightful.

“He said the Thayne were kin. What did he mean?”

“What we call Thayne were once Illar. Just as the Forgotten Ones turned against their elven brethren, in disagreement about the Tap, so too did the Thayne turn against the Illar.”

“Why would creatures such as they fall to jealousy and bitterness?”

“The Illar are the Tap. They are part of all living things. They created the Thayne to act as avatars to each of the races they created and scattered through the stars. The Illar bent the Thayne to their will, so that they dominated the races through piety and fear. The Thayne had other ideas. They grew complacent and distant, so much so they became less and less part of the Tap and their forms changed beyond recognition.”

“How do you know this?” Ruby’s head reeled with revelations. All the while, she kept looking back at the suspended vision desperate to see more.

“I was there. You were too. But just as the Thayne became distant from their creators, the Old Gods grew distant from the Thayne; we were all once Illar. We were all born of the Tap and will all return there when we die.”

“I knew the Old Gods and Thayne were cut from the same cloth. Why does that matter here?”

Leopold advanced the vision. “Listen.”