The New God's Of Avaricia

The survivors of the square had formed a ragged line before the gates, armed with whatever they could find in their panic. Pitchforks, torches, and kitchen knives glinted in the moonlight, their bearers' eyes reflecting the same desperate hope that burned within Ava. She knew she could not fight alone, not against the prophecy's full fury. Her gaze met that of the mother and child she had saved, the woman's fear slowly giving way to something else, something akin to trust. It was a fragile bond, forged in the fires of horror and grief, but it was a bond nonetheless.

With a nod that spoke volumes, Ava handed the girl back to her mother and stepped to the front of the makeshift defense. Her extra limbs retracted into her body, the power within her seemingly at bay for the moment. Yet, she could feel it simmering beneath her skin, a dormant volcano waiting to erupt at the prophecy's next move.

Her voice, strong and clear, rang out above the din of fleeing citizens and distant howls. "We stand here, together," she declared, her eyes scanning the ragtag assembly before her. "Whether we face gods or beasts, we shall not bow to fear!"

The townsfolk paused in their flight, their eyes finding Ava's figure at the forefront of the defense. The crimson stains on her clothes were a stark reminder of the battle they had just witnessed, but her posture spoke of resilience rather than defeat. A murmur grew among them, a ripple of hope in the sea of despair that had engulfed the city. She had been painted a harbinger of doom, but in their darkest hour, she was aiming to become their beacon of light.

In the day that would follow, Ava would put her life on the line for Sovereign time and again. Fighting off the wolves with her newfound powers, and snakes, and beasts and creatures of the night that were all driven mad by the horns that blared but a day earlier.

But in the quiet moments between battles, when the city's survivors huddled together in the makeshift shelters that had been set up within the walls of what was once a bustling tavern, Ava found another use for her abilities.

Her touch had always been a source of comfort, a gentle warmth that could soothe the most troubled spirits. But now, as she moved among the injured and the maimed, her fingers seemed to hold a spark of life itself. When she laid her hand upon a man whose arm had been torn from its socket, there was a brief flicker of light beneath the skin, and with a gasp of pain and wonder, a new limb would grow from the socket, replacing the damaged appendage. The crowd watched in awe as the man's eyes rolled back in his head, his body spasming with the effort of the impossible.

When the sun had barely crested the horizon, Ava had been a witch, a symbol of fear and darkness. But as the first light of dawn pierced the clouds of despair, she had become something else entirely. The people saw her not as a harbinger of doom, but as a guardian, a beacon of hope in a world gone mad. Word of her deeds spread through the city like wildfire, whispered prayers of gratitude on the lips of those she had saved. The prophecy had twisted the very fabric of their reality, but in its shadow, Ava had discovered a power that transcended fate.

The survivors of Sovereign were a tapestry of fear and hope, their eyes hollow with the horrors of the night before. Their trust in her was as fragile as the first spring shoots pushing through the frozen earth, yet it grew stronger with every life she touched. The cobblestone streets were lined with the injured and the grieving, and Ava moved among them with the grace of a priestess, her crimson-stained gown a stark contrast to the white light that seemed to emanate from her fingertips. The power that had once been rumoured to bring them to the brink of destruction now offered a chance at redemption, and the people clung to it with the desperation of the drowning.

Whispers of "The Whore of Sovereign" had been replaced by a new title: "The Goddess of Sovereign." It was a name born not of reverence, but of desperation. Her very presence seemed to bring a semblance of order to the city that had descended into madness. The crows that had once been her tormentors now hovered above, a silent vigil that watched her every move with unblinking eyes.

Ava had marshaled the people, her fiery spirit a catalyst for their survival instincts. With her at the forefront, the townsfolk found the courage to stand their ground, to fight back against the Gods. The barricade grew stronger, a testament to their collective will. They built it from the rubble of their shattered lives, each stone a declaration of their refusal to be mere pawns in a cosmic game of fate.

Then came the yetis. The first one emerged from the shadows, a towering behemoth with fur as white as freshly fallen snow, its eyes burning with an otherworldly rage. The townsfolk gasped, their fear palpable, but Ava merely squared her shoulders, her eyes narrowing into a fierce glare.

More of these creatures began to appear, a horde of yetis that seemed to materialize from the very fabric of the night itself. They circled the city's walls, a living, breathing siege engine that grew with each passing moment. The prophecy had not just brought forth wolves and serpents; it had summoned the most primal fears of the land. Yet, amidst this horror, Ava felt something stir within her, a power that had lain dormant for eons, now rushing to the surface like a river breaking free from its banks.

Her eyes flashed with an inner light, and without warning, her body began to morph once more. Her limbs grew longer and more powerful, stretching and extending until they wrapped around the very stones of Sovereign. The crowd watched, their whispers of fear morphing into gasps of awe as the cobblestones beneath her trembled and cracked, the barricade she had created seemingly alive with her will.

Each of Ava's new arms grew to the size of mighty oaks, their ends sprouting fingers that splayed wide, enveloping the city in a protective embrace. Her reach was immense, her fingers touching the furthest corners of the city walls as if she had become the very guardian deity they whispered about. The air around her crackled with power, the scent of ozone mingling with the stench of fear and blood.

The yeti, its eyes alight with the malicious intent of the second birth, charged towards the barricade. But Ava was ready. With a roar that seemed to come from the very earth itself, she brought her arms down upon the creatures, their impact resonating through the very bones of Sovereign. The creature's fur ruffled as it was caught in the vice-like grip of her limbs, the power behind each blow sending tremors through the ground.

The yeti's howl of fury was cut short as Ava's crimson-lit fists met its chest, the force of the blow sending a spray of crimson into the air. It crumpled under the weight of her power, a once-mighty creature now a twisted wreck of bone and fur. The other yetis, witnessing their leader's fate, paused in their advance, their eyes reflecting a flicker of doubt. But Ava was relentless. Her arms, now a whirlwind of destruction, lashed out, each strike a dance of death that painted the snow a sickening hue of red.

The second birth had brought forth this madness, but it was the power of the prophecy itself that fueled Ava's wrath. With every blow she dealt, she felt the ancient words resonate within her, "It is your birthright," a symphony of power and anger that surged through her veins. The yetis fell like dominoes, their massive forms squished under the unyielding force of her will. The ground trembled with the rhythm of her fury, each crunch of bone and crack of ice a crescendo that echoed through the city.

The townsfolk watched in awe as Ava, once condemned as Sovereign's bane, became their savior. Her fiery spirit had transformed into something divine, her crimson-lit limbs a stark contrast against the darkened sky. It was then that the whispers grew louder, a chant that seemed to resonate with the very essence of the city itself. "Goddess of Sovereign," they murmured, their voices gaining strength as the night grew brighter with each creature slain.

Her arms, those mighty limbs that had crushed the yetis to dust, began to coalesce together, their fiery hue fading into a soft, ethereal glow. They twined around each other, stretching and contorting in a mesmerizing dance of power. The crowd held their collective breath as the limbs grew more delicate, the harsh edges of anger and violence melting away into something beautiful, something pure.

With a final pulse of light, Ava's arms folded inward, the crimson light dimming to reveal a single, exquisite blossom. A flower, unlike any they had ever seen, unfurled from the center of her torso. It was a spectacle of petals and stamen, its colors a kaleidoscope of light that seemed to pulse in time with the city's heartbeat. The air grew still, the very breath of the city held captive by the sight before them. The second birth spoke of destruction, but it also whispered of rebirth.

Exhaustion claimed Ava in that moment, her body sagging under the weight of her newfound power. The petals of the ethereal blossom fluttered down, a gentle cascade that seemed to carry with it a promise of peace. She fell to her knees, the snow around her staining pink from the blood of her enemies and the energy she had expended. The survivors of Sovereign watched, their eyes wide with wonder and fear as the prophecy's destructive dance continued to unfold before their very eyes.

Goddess of Sovereign, Ava-Louise Garnet.

-To Be Continued-