Penitent

Michael found himself floating in blackness again as his vision ended and was expecting to be pulled into another, but instead a number of smaller scenes began to play all around him, the darkness surrounding him suddenly illuminated by visions of battle. In one corner the Emperor fought off hundreds of horned men and carapaced horrors, his white ceremonial garb dyed in their blood. In another he saw the nobility being slaughtered, torn to shreds. Their titles were unable to protect them, unarmed and unprepared for as they had been for what was coming.

Where the sphere apparatus had been there was a familiar angry red tear. It was enormous, extending from the ground miles into the sky. The air around it twisted and tore at the reality around it as it started to widen. Flying monsters that resembled the Creature flew off in a dozen different directions. He could see their paths in his vision, watching as they flew directly for other cities far from the Hume capital, targeting temples and key figures. Michael wasn't sure of how they knew exactly where to go, but they did. They'd been preparing for that moment.

As the hundreds of monsters became thousands and began to tear through Hume, burning, eating, and murdering everything in their path, Michael found himself involuntarily reaching for his sword, but felt a hand on his shoulder.

He didn't jump at the touch, as there was something familiar about it. He turned to see a woman that stood a head taller than him. Her nose was aquiline and her black hair braided in an elaborate style. She was beautiful in an untouchable way, like a sword with a perfect edge, but her eyes were sad as she looked beyond him at the carnage that unfolded in his vision.

He turned and kneeled, bowing his head.

"Seras, Lady of Iron, goddess of protection."

Seras turned her steel colored eyes to him and smiled, her form flickering a bit as she did so. "Rise, my favored champion."

He obeyed, and raised his head to look at her. "Whoever sculpted that statue of you did an incredible job."

She smiled. "Javok. He studied with dwarven craftsmen as well as the devotees of my brother Bruntus. I shall favor him always."

Her voice was strong. It reminded him a bit of when Sarah would argue with her mother about how to raise their kids.

Michael looked as the Emperor was finally overwhelmed, a scorpion-like tail piercing him through the back of the head. His body crumpled, his red blood mixing with the myriad of other colors that had already stained it.

"You needed me to see this," he said. "To understand more of what happened, and why it happened?"

She nodded. "Our champion must know us. Not only our greatness, gifts, and power, but our faults as well."

"The takers are your fault," he said.

"Yes. We expended much of ourselves to create the Titles and Deeds which man benefits from. None more than my sister Estaid, who was nearly lost by its creation."

"Why?"

"This world is dangerous. In many ways it is unsuitable for man. In order to give our worshippers a better chance we wanted to give them a strength to match their environment."

"What about titled beasts?"

"It was decided that the benefits of them would outweigh the costs." She shook her head. "It wasn't even completed before we realized how much we were weakening the divine weave that surrounds the world. If it had been completed then all would be diviners of a kind, at least able to divine themselves as the takers are. There would have also been far more abilities and improvement beyond just battle." She paused for a moment. "We overestimated ourselves."

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

"And with the takers arriving, faith began to fade."

She nodded. "Who could blame them? Our weakness cost them dearly."

As if punctuating her point Michael watched as a nobleman tried and failed to shield his children from one of the chitinous monsters. He gripped the hilt of his sword tighter, but didn't look away.

"Titles and Deeds were meant to empower us as much as man. We had hoped that through their devotion of acts our power would be restored and the incursion of takers ceased, but the damage was done. After this," she gestured to the continuing carnage and destruction, "there was no coming back as we were."

Michael watched as the beasts from the rift tore their way through the capital and across the countryside, but then the rift began to flicker. There was a kind of groan from it, and it began to shrink. The distortion that surrounded it faded, revealing a blue sky where red had only just been. The beasts from the rift roared as it closed and several tried to retreat, but it was too late.

"That's when you merged into the divine," said Michael.

"That's right. It was the only way to protect this world."

"But it wasn't enough."

"No. With that first tear we were constantly bleeding with no hope of restoration. We had fewer and fewer worshippers and those few we had were hunted by special beasts meant to infiltrate this world. What few remained tried to leave clues, and hints to what we are wherever they could. Luckily, you have been able to find them."

"Is it luck if you're guiding me the whole way?"

She smiled. "Yes. It is luck that we have found one so willing to be guided. Luck of a very special kind."

Michael looked at the horde that had been cut off from its world. With the rift sealed the fighting didn't stop. They didn't lay down their arms. Instead they began to fight more fiercely. Spells tore through the capital, fires raged, massive horned men crushed soldiers beneath their feet, and swarms of insects feasted on the dead.

"Who are these beings that come from the rift?"

"Conquerors. They are beings that move between worlds to take slaves and meat and power. Always assimilating new races beneath their banner as they move forward. They have already taken many. The chitinous ones were the first. The horned men joined them willingly, as did some of the silver feathered. The lizardfolk were simply defeated and the men of smoke… I don't even know that they spared a single one."

"And we're next."

"Humans, elves, dwarves, winged and all the rest. Yes." As she finished speaking Seras flickered for a moment, almost as if a signal had been interrupted on a TV.

"My time grows short, my champion."

"What's happening?"

"We are all separate now, which makes it harder to maintain the weave around this world. It was necessary, but now we must stay focused. This conversation, while necessary, costs us."

"How much time do I have? To rally people? To prepare?"

"I am unsure. Estaid believes a year, if my siblings and I can hold."

"If I can gather your worshippers, if I can restore faith will it prevent the weave from falling?"

"It will help, but it will not prevent it completely. The barrier is still too weak. Eventually it will open again even if we can seal everything else. It will need to be closed."

"It will tear again here?" asked Michael, pointing at the spot where the rift had been in the vision moments ago.

"Yes. In the same spot as before," she flickered again.

"Seras, I swear on you and all the gods that when it tears, I will be there to meet it."

"I know you will be," she smiled at him as she spoke, before her expression shifted. "I have to tell you one more thing. We didn't just guide you here. Tell the mage to watch the darkest shadow," she said, then she was gone.

Michael was in the vision just a bit longer, and the speed of it began to increase. He saw the horde of beasts from the rift spread and ravage the land, but then he saw the armies approach. Great heroes tore through the rift monsters with powerful weapons, mages cast them down in flames, and even common men took up arms to drive them away. Those that flew were brought down by ballistae or talented archers, and slowly, but surely they were killed until not a single one remained. It was a crusade, and it was successful in destroying the heathens at the gates, but it was missing the one thing that would prevent them from ever returning. It was missing faith.

The vision faded as the last horned man had a spear driven through his heart and Michael was suddenly plunging back into himself. He shot up in his bedroll before collapsing back down. It was a lot of information to absorb all at once, and the visions themselves had also seemed to drain him terribly. He took a few moments, then he sat up again. Dread clutched at his heart, and it was familiar. He wondered for a moment if a rift had opened up nearby when he realized that the dread was growing. Whatever was causing it was coming closer.

He quickly grabbed his helmet and Rend and stepped out of the tent.

Ollie looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"There's something coming."