The noise of the forest enveloped a small hill in the clearing. Despite it being surrounded by foliage, no plants grew on it. Woodland animals chattered and chirped all around, yet no insect crawled onto it and no bird flew over.

To nature, it seemed like this small hill was not a part of the world, and therefore it went unnoticed and untouched by any living creature or even the most advanced arcane creations of the sapient races.

This otherwise unremarkable mound of earth that had stood untouched and barren for a millennium now stirred. Dirt and clay shivered, then gathered, then formed together to rapidly create a humanoid figure. This individual did not seem to have a set form: the churning materials making up its body ceaselessly reshaping it. The figure seemed a facsimile of a male human at first, then a female orc the next, and an androgynous gnome soon after.

Thus it was that Zira, the God of Crafts, set foot on the material plane. In the many meetings that The Pantheon had done on that hill, Zira was always the first to arrive. After taking a moment to appreciate the birdsong that continued uninterrupted after their arrival, Zira began to set the scene for the upcoming Conclave. Pillars of stone erupted from the ground creating a ring around the hill, their tops flowing together into a perfectly round and smooth ring. Pebbles and small stones rose from underground, stacking one on top of the other to form a chair directly behind Zira which quickly smoothed into an exquisitely crafted stone seat.

A cloud formed directly over the hill where no cloud would normally pass. Rain began to fall from it, the drops gathering rather than being absorbed into the earth until they formed another figure, flowing into different shapes just as Zira did.

Mayi, God of Waters, greeted their sibling. “Punctual as always.” Their voice was as pleasant as a gurgling brook. Droplets scattered from their body like the spray of a waterfall, enveloping the hill in a gentle mist. More water flowed, freezing into the shape of a throne in a slight angle to the one Zira had created.

“It is only natural for me to organize.” Zira responded while bowing their head in a nod. Zira’s own voice sounded akin to a finely tuned musical instrument. Like the Water they represented, Mayi was cool and pleasant; but Zira knew that they could just as easily be cold and brutal.

As was nature’s way, where there was Water Life soon followed. A green bud burst upwards, growing faster and faster into a tangle of vines that curled into another shifting humanoid form.

“How lovely to see you both as avatars once more.” Said Hai in a friendly tone, perfectly harmonizing with the birdsong in the environment. Grass and flowers sprouted all over the hill, covering it in stunning natural colors. Roots banded together above ground, becoming a throne with protrusions on top like the antlers of a stag.

“Hai, welcome. I see your creations are thriving.” Zira remarked. They recalled that while the God of Life was beauty and energy, they can be selfish and destructive as well. Zira hoped to avoid those aspects later.

“As they well should.” The other deity responded smugly.

The wind picked up, blowing towards a single spot. Avir, the God of Air, would have been the most difficult figure to see with mortal eyes: their ever-changing body was only visible by the water mist and dust that were picked up into their vortex. The other divine beings on the hill, however, had no problem seeing their newly arrived counterpart.

“You arrived before me this time, Hai.” The newcomer spoke in barely a whisper. As fickle as the winds, it was pure chance that determined when Avir arrived. They had never shown up before Zira did, though.

Zira knew who would arrive next even before they smelled the smoke. Always it was the Elementals who showed up first, the Spirituals hanging back out of respect. Zira was the only Spiritual Deity to break that rule, and the Elementals tolerated that because of the usefulness of the God of Craft’s talents and blessings.

Where there was smoke there was fire, and a blaze abruptly roared to life beside Avir before constricting itself to another humanoid form which flickered even more than the others as fire was expected to. “Avir, Hai, Mayi; A pleasure.” Leva bode in a crackling voice. They did not acknowledge Zira, but they didn’t expect them to anyway: Fire was harsh and tended to consume created crafts. While their domains intertwined in certain areas, like they did with all the deities, the fire god did not want to get along with Zira. They would most definitely be a dissenter for the crafter’s crafts, no pun intended. Leva formed a blazing throne behind themselves, made of ash and flames, and the light danced beautifully through the scattered water droplets.

As it had always been, the Spirituals swiftly arrived now. The God of War, Mil, was first to show among them, but if one had expected a blustering braggart, they would be in for a surprise. War was brutal and aggressive, true, but they were also insidious and clever. Their many forms were muscled, but not overly bulky, like a lifelong adventurer or veteran soldier rather than a bodybuilder. They acknowledged the Elementals with a respectful bow before silently stepping beside Zira, their throne forming out of assorted pieces of armor from a variety of ethnicities and metals.

Shava, God of Thought, was next in line, simply appearing as if they had always been there. Thought followed action, Zira considered. Shava shifted between many humanoid forms, most looking old and wizened. Their throne seemed like a well-worn chair taken from a study somewhere. The Spiritual of Wisdom was a mute god, their intentions and opinions expressed mostly by minute gestures and faint variations in expression. The lack of speech was no trouble to a Deity, but the few mortals who had interacted with them other than their chosen champions had always struggled to understand and often made up their own interpretations.

Finally, there was Kesh, God of Bonds. Some cultures called them a God (or often Goddess) of Love, but that was but one of their aspects. A few cultures even mixed them up with Mil, which was not entirely untrue. Bonds could be both positive and negative, but always tied fates together. If it weren’t for the Elemental’s seniority and sense of superiority, Kesh would undoubtedly be in charge of the Conclave. Kesh manifested in forms that were always extremely beautiful, and it was said that any unprotected mortal who gazed upon Kesh would be obsessed with them for the remainder of their days. They created a simple wooden chair, humble as always, completing the circle.

All three of the other Spirituals looked far more like flesh and blood than the Elementals, as they were inherently tied to just the sapient beings. Zira more closely resembled the Elementals, which was a fact that even they could not fully explain. Despite crafts being a purely sapient domain, Zira seemed to bridge the gap between the Spiritual and the Elemental.

“Let us get this Conclave started.” Hai announced, taking the lead as was custom. “The cycle is approaching its apex, the binds of Light and Dark will soon weaken.”

Zira was always nervous at this crossroads, as they expected all the other deities were, but this time was different.

“I expect we have all chosen our champions?” As Life asked that question, they revealed their chosen. Naturally it was an Elf, since Hai always chose an Elf or Gnome for their connection to the natural world. Of course, there were no objections.

“Here is my choice.” Leva declared next, revealing the facsimile of a female Human.

“A sorcerer, why am I not surprised.” Mayi remarked in amusement. “You always liked the wild ones.”

“This one may surprise you.” Leva grinned, then threw their gaze over the rest. “Any challenges?”

There were none.

“Now is my turn.” Mayi stepped forward. Her herald was another Human, a dark-skinned male this time.

“You chose a Herald of Water that has known little of it?” Hai questioned curiously.

“Those who have little appreciate the most.” Mayi answered resolutely. Hai nodded, and no objections were heard.

“My choice now.” Avir sighed, revealing a short greenish girl with long ears and a huge smile — a Goblin.

“Oh, I know that one.” Hai remarked approvingly. “She was a contender to be my herald as well.”

“I understand why…” Avir murmured, and another round of nods passed without an issue.

“My herald; See and approve my choice.” Mil rumbled, the voice as firm as a general’s speaking up for the first time in this Conclave. The Herald of the War God had a stature as short as the previous one’s, but with much shorter ears and a less unusual skin color — a Gnome.

As much as the Elementals look down on Spiritual Deities, they knew it was foolish to question Mil’s choice of herald. One more champion passed with unanimous approval.

Now it was Shava’s time, and the wise god just gestured as their herald appeared. Another Gnome, which was not unusual for them, but this one seemed a lot younger than their usual champions.

No objections or remarks came forth once more, but this time because arguing with Shava was as productive as a fight with a stone.

“Shall I reveal mine then?” Kesh smiled. Their champion could have been mistaken for a human in strange clothing at first glance, but the black-feathered arms and tribal tattoos were unmistakably Strix.

“A champion of bonds from the most isolated of races?” Leva observed.

“It is just as Mayi had said.” Kesh responded, seemingly to the water deity’s approval.

And, usually, that was it. The gods’ dispersing energies showed they were all about to depart. For such a momentous gathering, it had always ended much faster than it began. This one would be different, however.

“I have also chosen a champion.” Zira interjected, immediately drawing all gazes.

“Yes, your Herald supplies our champions with their weaponry and gear.” Avir whispered warily. With such a role, Zira had never asked the others to approve their herald before.

“No, not this time.” Zira announced, sending murmurs of shock through the assembled Conclave. “My chosen herald will compete in the trials, like all of yours. If they wish to create for your heralds, that would be by their choice.”

“That is not your role, God of Dirt.” Leva flared in anger. “You dare upset the balance we have cultivated for ages at such a crucial time?”

“Leva is right, you are courting chaos.” Mayi’s voice was as cold and sharp as an iceberg. “There have always been seven heralds, and we have always prevailed. You introduce an unknown element.”

“It is precisely because we have always acted this way.” Zira answered calmly, stepping forward to address the Conclave. “Demons may act predictably, but their masters are clever enough to plot against us. Eventually, if we do nothing new, they will defeat us.”

Mil nodded in agreement, maintaining their stoic silence. A God of War knew that the existing strategy was inherently flawed. They also knew to pick their battles, however, and this was not the most opportune time for it in their eyes.

“It is not in the Elder Gods’ natures to directly command their minions.” Hai argued. “Besides, is this not why we make use of mortal champions? To adapt and improvise in ways we cannot?”

“It is not enough. Demons can use mortals too.” Zira insisted, then quickly added “It is too late to debate this, my champion is already chosen just as yours are.”

Knowledge of this eighth herald passed through the Conclave, the last surprise of the evening.

“Zira, are you sure?” Kesh spoke up. This was one conflict that even they would find difficult to mediate. “You are risking both your position in this Conclave and the entirety of creation. There is no taking this back.”

“I am adamant.” Zira affirmed.

“Then leave us.” Hai growled. “We do not take kindly to this reckless initiative. If your herald fails us, then our last action in this plane before we are consumed by pandemonium will be to exile you to die with the mortals.”

Zira bowed in acknowledgement, then their avatar crumbled back into the earth it was formed from. It went as well as could be expected, probably.  Zira was sure the other Spirituals agreed, though they might not dare to speak out for now. Avir did not seem openly disapproving, but that remained to be seen. Mayi and Leva were obviously against, and it was unfortunate that Hai had also seemingly taken personal offense.

Then again, Hai had probably been offended by Zira’s very specific choice for their herald.

As the Gods dispersed one by one, the last sound left in the circle was the whisper of the wind.

“Out of all creation, why a Golem?”

Zrooper

Welcome! I hope you enjoy this story.

Feedback and constructive criticism are appreciated!