My desire, though, was to be out there, dealing with the situation. I also, desperately, wanted to get back to my occupation and continue my studies. Currently I was researching the ancient worship of the Thayne Jomil, the goddess of order, decay and the cycle of life and death. I realised the importance of my study of her, with what was going to occur soon if I and others did not attempt to stop it. With destruction came decay, but from that wealth of disaster came new life. It was just the way that the Old Gods had gone and the new religions begun. Morningstar wanted to gain on this new genesis, and enact Jomil’s work. Or rather, he likely wanted others to do the work for him, and he would just claim sovereignty.

A thought struck in my mind then. Ultimately, Morningstar wanted power. It had always been his driving force, his obsession. He wanted me, partly because my destructive capabilities were once exceedingly mighty, and apparently partly because I could actually get on with people - complete what he lacked. My empathy for others, my general calmness of spirit and dislike of anger had made students consider my classes easy. It had gained me friends, at least far more than he ever had, and allow me to sit between camps of enemies. I had always walked a thin line, and though there were some people who I would never get on with (Irritant Number One Franko, for instance), I always strove to please for those who appreciated the effort.

But what if someone else stopped the apocalypse? What if, because of the masses more divinities and devils than there were now compared to the time of the Great Calamity, there was a possibility that another, who was not myself, managed to save the majority of mortal kind? Many, many heroes walked the paths of Althanas, including some that I had met, and if they were able to save a village from a dragon, there was a chance that they could help to save a nation.

In that case the apocalypse would never happen, and people would never lose faith. Instead, they would look to the gods who had saved them - one of them certainly not Morningstar as he waited for the destruction to come - and their worship would excel. Once more Morningstar would be pushed to the sidelines, holding the little power that he had as a new era came, once where he could be possibly even weaker than he was now …

“Wait!” I said, gasping. I spun to face him. He was back in his throne, sitting on the edge. Brows raised he looked at me.

“What is it?” he asked.

“There are far more gods now than there were before,” I breathed, “Far more, who knows how many. And they are from all corners of the world, possibly worlds from what my books tell me.”

He blinked, not understanding. “... And?”

“Well, it’s not just the Old Gods, this time, Morningstar,” I replied, aghast. “Instead, there are far more. With all that potential power there could be someone, not myself, who went to save the world, and not in your name, or the King of Death’s name, or anyone that we know. They could even claim victory for themselves.”

I could see his mind working behind his eyes as he considered. Personally, I knew I had a point. And he had to know that I had one too. It was as plain as the day could see, now that I thought about it.

“And even if a second calamity came, who would be to say that you would be the only power that survived? There could be an already established pantheon that manages to ride out the storm, then claims complete sovereignty for themselves. They’ll already have the potential, have the worshippers … you could be possibly even worse off.”

Slowly he breathed in, narrowing his eyes. “That is a possibility. There is also the possibility of the future I speak of, with us emerging as new gods, ultimate in power.”

“Yes, but the chances of that are slimmer now,” I stressed. “It’s not the same as before. Nowhere near.”

Drawing his eyes away from me he leant back, studying the beamed ceiling. Massive trunks of wood had been harvested of their bark and cut to shape to support the roof, that was held together with no nails, only pegs of wood. It was a marvel of early architecture, that I very much admired, but was far too anxious to begin rambling about then. Briefly he considered the roof, as briefly as I had done rambling about it, before he sighed, looking over at me.

“Fine, I will bite. What are you suggesting?”

“You let me go,” I said.

Immediately he grimaced.

“Wait!” I kept going, “Wait. You let me go, and give me back my power. At least enough to let me attempt to do what I want. I try to stop whatever natural disaster is coming, or if I cannot I save as many as I can. Then -” I raised a finger in the air. The Prince of nowhere glared at it. “I back off. Any and all gratitude I get for my assistance ... you can have. I do not want it. I will very gladly attribute any successes I get to you. I do not want the attention, you do, so,” I grinned at him, lifting up my bound hands. “Success for us both?”