Island of the Gods,

The Divine Realm

Sonia was not having a good day. You’d think as a mage who transcended, she would finally be able to relax. Okay fine, she didn’t quite transcend, but becoming a demi-god was close enough, right?

She still deserved to just laze around in some beautiful gardens but no, her whole time consisted of her working. And the work she got given was the worst job of them all, a messenger for the gods!

Someone whose entire purpose was to run all over the place giving messages back and forth.

And today Sonia was doing a lot of running, even more than usual. After all, this was the busiest day of the millennium - the day the Prophet gave his once-in-a-millennium prophecy.

First, she had to deliver a message from the Goddess of the Hearth to the God of the Harvest, reminding him that the autumn festival was coming up and asking him to ensure a good crop. The Harvest God just scowled and shooed her away.

Next, she sped to the Goddess of Love. The Love Goddess gave her a perfumed letter to take to the God of War, trying to convince him to stop antagonizing the mortal kingdoms in the First World. Sonia thought it was a lost cause, but delivered the letter anyway. The God of War barely glanced at it before tossing it in the fireplace.

After that, Sonia brought a request from the scholars at the Academy of Magic to the Goddess of Knowledge, asking for access to the divine library. The Goddess refused them for the hundredth time, saying mortal mind, even those at the Seventh World, could not comprehend such potent magical knowledge.

Sonia's feet were getting sore from all the running around. The floating islands that made up the divine realm were beautiful, but huge. Transporting between them took time and energy even for a demi-god. All she wanted to do was rest, maybe take a nap under the silver-leafed trees. But it wasn't time to rest yet.

Finally, as sunset approached, Sonia arrived at her most important task - attending the Prophecy Ceremony. She approached the gates of the Prophet's cloud palace, exhausted and just wanting to rest her sore feet. The two guards crossed their spears in front of her.

"Halt! What business do you have here?" one guard demanded.

Sonia sighed. "I'm the Divine Messenger, I’m here for the Prophecy Ceremony."

The guards frowned sceptically. "No one told us about any messenger," the other guard said. "The ceremony is for gods, not a mere demi-god."

"I don't have time for this!" Sonia said, frustrated. She pulled out her gleaming Divine Messenger sigil and thrust it towards them. "This gives me access everywhere, now let me pass!"

The guards' eyes widened at the sight of the magical sigil.

"A thousand apologies, Divine Messenger," the first guard said respectfully as he retracted his spear. "We did not realize. Please, enter."

Relieved, Sonia tucked the sigil away and passed through the gates. Now she could finally witness the ‘momentous’ prophecy and carry out her duty to deliver the message across the divine realms.

The palace halls were empty and silent as Sonia made her way to the prophecy chamber. Her footsteps echoed uncomfortably loud. She slowed to a stop before the doors, pausing to catch her breath. She tried to smooth her windswept hair and straighten her rumpled chiton before entering the sanctum. No need to look bedraggled before the distinguished Prophet. Appearances mattered when meeting with a God.

With a deep breath, Sonia pushed open the twin doors.

Inside, the sanctum was dim, illuminated only by flickering candles. Plush pillows and luxurious rugs covered the floor, softening Sonia’s footsteps as she stepped inside. At the back of the room, seated on top of a towering pile of silken cushions, was the Prophet himself.

He was polishing a large gold circle with intricate etchings when Sonia approached. She cleared her throat politely to get his attention.

"Ah, hello my dear." The Prophet looked up with a gentle smile, his gaze almost fatherly.

He was tall for a god, towering over Sonia by several feet. Long silver hair fell past his waist, and his eyes glowed golden – the sign of godhood. He wore simple green robes, belted at the waist.

"Greetings, Your Eminence," Sonia said respectfully, bowing. "I've come to witness and record your prophecy, per sacred tradition."

"Of course, of course," chuckled the Prophet. He set aside the gold circle. It was nearly as wide across as Sonia's outstretched arms.

An awkward silence descended as Sonia fidgeted nearby, unsure what to do. The Prophet said nothing, seemingly content to sit on the pillows and watch her with an amused smile.

"So..." Sonia spoke finally. "Any hints on what this prophecy will be about?" She gave an uneasy laugh. "It can't be any worse than the last one. The Mortal Lands in the Third World still haven't fully recovered from that underworld invasion you predicted."

"My child, you know I have no say in what visions I see,” the Prophet's eyes twinkled. “I simply interpret what the fates reveal."

"Yes, yes, I know,” Sonia sighed. “Just wish the prophecy could be cheerful for once. Sprinkle in a bit of good news. An upcoming end to all wars, perhaps? The mortals are due for a pleasant prophecy."

"We shall see, dear messenger. We shall see." The Prophet settled back against the cushions and closed his eyes. "When the time comes, the prophecy shall flow from me, grim or glad."

Sonia brought her parchment and quill as she waited, ready to record whatever strange vision overtook the Prophet.

Minutes ticked by in slow silence.

Just when Sonia thought she might nod off herself, the Prophet's eyes snapped open. They glowed pure white, divine energy swirling in their depths. He stiffened, back arching, and began to shout in a deep, resonating voice no longer his own:

"Beware the fall of the Time God's reign,
For mortal ambition will end his domain.
The death of eternity's warden draws near,
As factions grow restless, and souls lose their fear.
From celestial order shall come chaos and strife,
New rulers ascending to godhead in life.
But hope may yet glimmer for those in the fray,
If unity rises to win the dark day."

As the Prophet God finished his prophecy, his eyes cleared, and he leaned back.

Sonia stumbled back in shock. For the first time ever, she saw the Prophet’s face turn deadly serious.

"You must leave now," he told Sonia gravely. "Spread the prophecy only when the time is right."

Still stunned, Sonia backed out of the chamber. The grand doors closed behind her with an awful sense of finality.

She stood shaking in the empty hall, trying to absorb what she had heard. The prophet had just foretold the fall of the God of Time - who was none other than himself!

Prophesying his own destruction? Sonia felt sick with the implications. What could it mean? She had to tell the other gods, yet the Prophet had warned her to keep it secret for now.

Her mind swirling with questions, Sonia slowly made her way out of the now silent palace.

***

As the grand doors closed behind the messenger girl, Arkanias slumped on the cushions with a weary sigh.

Amongst the gods he was known as the Prophet, but he was also the God of Time. He controlled the celestial cycles and the flowing river of fate.

Yet never in a thousand millennia had he foreseen that he would prophesy his own destruction.

Arkanias shook his head bitterly. Just because he had seen it in a vision didn't make it certain. The prophecies were always difficult to interpret, with layers of metaphor and meaning. There were always ways to change them.

He only needed to survive for a millennium - that was how long his prophecies usually lasted before coming to fruition. He was an immortal god. Surely, he could find a way to avert this fate.

Arkanias summoned his powers, divine energy swirling around him in prismatic colours. He sent his consciousness forward through the myriad streams of time, seeking a future where he survived past the prophecy.

Yet in every branch and eddy of the possible timelines, he saw his own death.

In some futures, he was murdered by gods or demons that sought to steal his power over time. In others, he fell in battles that shook the celestial sphere. He even saw timelines where he took his own life willingly, for reasons obscured from his sight.

After searching millions of timelines fruitlessly, Arkanias felt the first stirrings of despair. Was there no way to avoid this prophecy?

Then finally he saw a glimmer of hope. One narrow stream of time held a slight chance he might cheat destiny. The path was risky, but Arkanias was willing to gamble everything on even a sliver of hope.

He decided to split his divine essence and power, dividing it into seven pieces, and merging each piece with a different mortal soul. The soul of a mortal naturally inclined towards defying their fate. Tying his own fate to theirs could shield him from harm. Then in a millennium, when the prophecy window closed, he would reclaim the pieces of his essence and be reborn whole.

Why seven pieces specifically? Arkanias did not know. He only foresaw that any more or less than seven would spell his certain doom.

With growing hope, he proclaimed, "Then so it will be!"

Once his essence was scattered among the seven, they would end up gravitating towards each other until one remained. Even if they were all killed off somehow, his essence would just pick another host.

However, there was only one problem, the other gods…

If the other gods discovered what he had done, they could easily destroy the mortal vessels holding his power and steal his essence. If his essence was in the hands of the other gods, then he would be doomed.

No, he needed a way to conceal and protect the mortals.

Arkanias sank into a meditative trance, gathering his concentration. He drew on his mastery over the celestial cycles, the patterns that governed reality. Arkanias reached into the fabric of creation itself to weave a new enchantment - one that would hide and shield.

Slowly, intricately, he spun the threads of magic, each strand resonating with cycles of concealment, confusion, and misdirection. He imbued the enchantment with his authority over time, declaring that it would endure until the prophecy came to pass. With a final surge of power, the spell coalesced into glowing sigils circling his outstretched hands.

“Hakeie dejda eejariun da,” Arkanias murmured the words of activation. The sigils flared once and faded, sinking into his skin. There the magic would remain, ready to impart its protection when the time came.

Satisfied, Arkanias inspected his work. Now when he transferred pieces of his essence, the seven mortals would bear this Mark of Hidden Potential. It would conceal their true nature from the sight of gods.

Filled with new determination, Arkanias strode from his chamber. He had a destiny to outmanoeuvre.

There was much planning to be done, hosts to be chosen. He did not spare a thought for how the seven mortals might be affected by sharing his essence, or whether they may be tempted to use that power for their own ends.

After all, it was impossible for a mere mortal to ascend to true godhood within only a millennium...wasn't it?

Arkanias was certain the pieces of his soul would be waiting for him when the time came.

***

Sonia waited just outside the silver gates of the Prophet's palace, gnawing her lip anxiously. She had been pacing there ever since leaving the room, wondering what to do.

She should carry Arkanias’ prophecy to the other gods immediately. Yet he had warned her to keep it secret until some unspecified right time.

Like how would she know when the time was right? She was only a demi-god!

Sonia sighed, continuing her frustrated pacing. Her mind spun in circles just like her feet along the path. She was still debating what to do when the gates suddenly swung open.

The Prophet God Arkanias strode out, his back straight and head high. To Sonia's surprise, the despair she had glimpsed earlier seemed to have disappeared, replaced by firm confidence. His eyes shone with fierce determination.

Sonia opened her mouth, but before she could call out to him, Arkanias traced a quick sigil that opened a portal. He stepped through without glancing back and was gone.

"Well, damn," Sonia muttered, hurrying up to stare at the space where he had been.

The portal had already disappeared.

That decided things - she had to inform the other gods about this crazy prophecy straight away. Maybe together they could make sense of it and figure out how to prevent it. If Arkanias was upset with her later for disobeying him, so be it.

Sonia took a deep breath and summoned the spark of divinity within her once again. Her tired feet protested, but she ignored their complaints.

No rest for the Divine Messenger.