The New God's Of Avaricia

The square was plunged into silence as the first note of the horns pierced the air, a sound so primal and raw that it seemed to resonate in the very bones of those who heard it. Ava felt the ground tremble beneath her, the very stones of the executioner's block vibrating with the power of the ancient melody. It was a call to arms, a summoning of the divine, and all eyes turned to the sky, searching for the source of the cacophony that now engulfed the city.

The executioner's axe hovered above her neck, poised to deliver the final blow, but the man's arm remained frozen in place, his eyes glazed over with awe. The guards around her were equally transfixed, their grips on her chains slackening as the music washed over them. The townsfolk, their faces twisted with hatred just moments before, now bore expressions of wonder and terror, their cries for blood replaced by a collective gasp that seemed to hold the very breath of the city in its thrall.

The Six Horns of the Second Birth were a legend, a myth whispered in the darkest corners of the city, a relic of a time when the gods had walked among men. The very sound of them was said to herald the end of an era and the birth of something new and terrifying. Yet, here it was, resonating through the cobblestone streets and echoing off the tall, ancient spires of Sovereign, a reality that defied comprehension. The melody was discordant and chaotic, a blend of notes that seemed to clash and yet coalesce into something powerful and inescapable. It was the sound of creation and destruction, a symphony that had not been heard for millennia, and all who heard it knew that their world was about to change irrevocably.

The collective shock and awe of the crowd was pierced by a banshee's shriek, a high-pitched wail that seemed to tear through the very fabric of the air. It was a sound that could freeze the blood in the veins, a cry of pain and despair that sent a shiver down the spines of even the most stoic of men. The shriek washed over the square like a wave of ice, shattering the illusion of civilized order and leaving in its wake a palpable sense of horror.

As Ava looked up, she saw the source of the unearthly sound: crows. They rained from the sky, one after another, their black forms plummeting like dark stars to the ground below. The square was transformed into a tableau of chaos, as the birds' sharp beaks and talons pierced the air, their eyes burning with a malevolent fire that seemed to mirror the very essence of the prophecy that had haunted her dreams. The crows' caws grew louder, a cacophony that drowned out the whispers of the arcane that had been her only companions in the dungeon's dark embrace.

The crowd, once a single entity of rage and fear, now scattered like embers in the wind, their eyes wide with horror as the crows descended upon them. The creatures smashed into the frozen townsfolk, their beaks and talons tearing through flesh and bone as though they were made of paper. The executioner stumbled back, dropping his axe as he tried in vain to shield himself from the onslaught. The guards, their grip on Ava's chains forgotten, stumbled away, their armor no protection against the frenzied assault of the feathered harbingers of doom.

Then, above the chaos, a voice so powerful it seemed to shake the very earth itself pierced the air. It was a clarion call, a declaration of war, and it belonged to none other than Lady Kathleen Bower. "People of Sovereign!" she bellowed, her voice a trumpet that drowned out the screeches of the crows and the cries of the panicking townsfolk. "To arms! Defend our city! The prophecy unfolds before us, and we stand at the precipice of our destruction. Rise up, and let us show these avian abominations that we will not be cowed!"

The crowd, still reeling from the sudden assault of the crows, turned to her. Their fear and anger transformed into a fiery determination that seemed to burn away the shackles of doubt and despair. The prophecy that had loomed over them like a malevolent storm cloud had finally manifested in a way that was undeniable, and now, the very fate of their city was at stake. The howls of the arctic wolves grew closer, a mournful symphony that sent shivers down the spines of even the bravest of souls.

The crows had become a living maelstrom of feathers and talons, a whirlwind of death that swept through the square with a ferocity that defied nature. Yet amidst the chaos, Ava remained untouched, a solitary figure of calm in the eye of the storm. Her eyes had grown distant, lost in the depths of a vision that none could share, her mind racing with the implications of the prophecy's latest twist. The shackles that had bound her moments ago now lay discarded beside the toppled executioner's block, a testament to the power that surged within her.

The townsfolk, their fear of Ava momentarily forgotten, now faced a horror far greater than any one girl could conjure. Their eyes, once filled with malice for the accused witch, were now wide with terror as they beheld the wrath of the heavens descending upon them. The whispers of the prophecy that had once seemed like the mad ramblings of a doomsday prophet now echoed through the city like a clarion call, a warning that could no longer be ignored.

It was the end of the world.

At least, it felt that way to the people of Sovereign as the crows descended upon them, a black tide of feathers and malice that seemed to swell without end. The square, once a bastion of civilized order, was now a battleground, a place where the very fabric of existence seemed to fray and unravel. The citizens, their hearts racing with terror, scattered before the onslaught, seeking refuge in any nook and cranny that might offer respite from the beating wings and razor-sharp beaks.

Yet, amidst the chaos, Ava remained untouched, kneeling before the executioner's block as if in silent vigil. Her crimson hair fluttered in the breeze created by the crows' wings, a stark contrast to the dark maelstrom that surrounded her. Her eyes, once filled with the fiery determination of a protective mother, were now glazed with a distant, almost trancelike focus. It was as if she saw beyond the chaos, her gaze locked on a horizon that none else could perceive.

And then, amidst the cacophony, she felt it. A warm, gentle touch, soothing like a balm upon a wound. It was Elara, her heart's light in the darkest of moments. The chains that had held her wrists and ankles fell away, the iron links turning to dust and ash before her eyes. A surge of power, the like of which she had never felt before, coursed through her veins.

Ava looked to her sides, and her eyes fell upon the lifeless forms of the guards who had been her jailors. They lay crumpled on the cobblestones, their armor pierced by the sharp beaks of the crows that now feasted upon their eyes. Their lifeblood stained the ground, a crimson pool that reflected the madness that had overtaken the square. The crows cawed in victory, their black forms a stark contrast to the white of their feathers, which were stained with the crimson of the guards' lifeblood.

"What are you doing?!" Ava screamed, her words a declaration of anger and defiance that seemed to shake the very foundations of the city.

Her voice, once the sweet melody that had soothed countless patrons in the House of Garnet, now boomed with the power of a storm, echoing through the cobblestone streets.

"Get somewhere safe, quickly!" Ava bellowed, her voice resonating with a newfound authority. She, like everyone, knew that the prophecy that had been but a bedtime story had come to fruition, and with it, the fate of not just her but the entire city of Sovereign was at stake.

Elara, her eyes wide with shock and horror, nodded feebly, her voice lost in the din of battle. Then, in a heart-wrenching instant, a rogue crow, its eyes burning with an otherworldly malice, shot through the air, aiming directly at the girl's unguarded face. Ava's scream of anguish was drowned out by the cacophony of the square as the creature embedded itself in Elara's eye socket, its sharp beak piercing her delicate skin, and its black wings flapping wildly as it burrowed deeper.

The girl's body convulsed, a silent scream frozen on her lips, as the creature's talons clutched at her skull. Ava watched in disbelief as her house sister's life force drained away, her eyes dimming like candles snuffed by a malevolent wind. The crow's caw grew louder, more triumphant, as it feasted upon the girl's very essence. And as the last light left Elara's gaze, Ava felt the prophecy's dark embrace tighten around her, a cold, inescapable cloak of fate that whispered of doom.

Hell had descended upon Sovereign, nay, Avaricia.