Alea, the god of life,
Held dominion over all living things,
From the tiniest of insects,
To the tallest of kings.
Deta, the god of destruction,
Wielded power over all that died,
He could bring forth earthquakes and tornadoes,
And lay waste to lands far and wide.
Qaessar, the god of fate,
Determined the paths that all must take,
He knew the twists and turns of destiny,
And the choices that each life would make.
Together, these gods of power,
Ruled over the realm with an iron fist,
Alea, Deta, and Qaessar,
Their names forever etched in the mist.
In the earliest days of the world's creation, ancient civilizations worshipped Treia as their gods. Treia, a name derived from the combination of "Tre" (three) and "-ia" (one group), referred to three great gods: Alea, Deta, and Qaessar. Alea, the God of Life, arose from the very seeds of the cosmos, held sway over the forces of creation, birth, and prosperity. Deta, the God of Destruction, that came from the cessation of the universe, was the master of death, chaos, and stasis. As for Qaessar, the God of Fate, born of light and time, ruled over the fate and rebirth of souls.
In the beginning, all three of them ruled together peacefully. But as time went on, two of the gods had other plans in mind. Alea became consumed by greed, while Deta discovered a new power of creation. Their desire for dominance over one another led to a divine conflict that spilled over into the mortal realm of Earth, causing various factions of humans, beastkin, and other beings to engage in warfare with one another. Later, rivers of blood were spilled, and the land was divided.
And so, Qaessar intervened. Using his powers of fate, he bound the two gods together, trapping them in an eternal stalemate but at the cost of his powers and existence. From that day on, the gods could no longer directly shape the affairs of mortals. Yet despite his noble efforts, war still raged across the land, fueled not by divine power, but by the greed and hatred of mere mortals.
Three gods, two fought and sealed by one that perished in its midst.
I drummed my fingers on the table, struggling to absorb all the fresh knowledge swirling in my mind. After seeing my father off, it had been a handful of days since I had sequestered myself within the library, lost in its stacks and shelves. To my surprise, there was even a small chamber for bibliophiles like myself to catch a bit of rest without returning home. My finger trailed back to the final page of the tome.
Qaessar...could it be that he, being the one who holds sway over fate and the spirits of beings, brought me to this world? A sudden idea occurred to me. I shook my head. Based on the tome, Qaessar was gone. Having lost his powers, his existence ceased to exist.
As I reached for the next book on my right, a sharp pain struck my finger. Blood flowed from the wound, caused by the sharp metal edges of the tome as I closed it. Suddenly, the space in front of me distorted and a paw emerged from a wormhole.
I stumbled backward, falling from my chair. However, none around me seemed to realize what was happening. It was as if I had been cut off from the world by a magical barrier. Cautiously, I crawled on the floor before standing and walking closer to the wormhole above the book. A white paw and limb dangled out from the hole, and a muffled voice was heard from within.
"What are you waiting for? Let me out of here!" the paw thrashed about urgently.
"Me?" I asked, pointing to myself in contemplation.
"Fool! Who else but you?"
Urged on by the voice's urgency, I grabbed the jutting white paw with both hands and pulled it hard from its position. I fell again, this time with a creature atop me. It was a white, fluffy puppy? I said aloud in disbelief.
The puppy stepped off my lap and stood upright. Its red eyes peered into mine as its ears perked up. "Who are you calling a puppy?" it snapped. "I'm the great Viska, the one and only celestial wolf, the strongest guardian of all, Serr-Gala!" it declared, its nose pointed upwards haughtily, his hinds raised. A very human-like mannerism.
I stared dumbfounded at the white ball of fur. I could almost make out the proud smirk on the creature's face. It faced me again and spoke.
"Ah, it's you," the creature spoke as it approached.
"Excuse me?" I inquired, still confused by the unusual circumstances.
"The one who stirred me from my slumber," it clarified.
I turned my gaze to the book on the table, recalling the drop of blood I had spilled on it. "I suppose so," I replied.
The creature, which I would describe as a puppy, studied me carefully, taking in every detail. "You'll do," it declared after a moment. "But you seem to be under some sort of curse." It ended its statement with a leisurely yawn.
"A curse?" I gasped, my hands instinctively flying to my chest.
Questions piled inside my head at the new development. I brought my fingers to my chin, still sitting on the ground. Could it be that someone felt threatened by Lucas's innate talents? I had no way of knowing this since the novel didn't mention anything but… Could it be Lucius, who had warned me about the shifting shadows? But if anyone should feel threatened, it should be Leon or his mother, the fair Lady Saria.
"How do I get rid of this curse?" I inquired, desperation edging into my voice. My head pounded with the weight of my misfortune. My once easygoing life now teetered on the brink of ruin.
"It cannot be done by mere mortals," Viska replied, leisurely grooming his canine paw. "Only another guardian such as myself can remove it. However, I must warn you, dispelling curses is not exactly my area of expertise."
"Where can I find him, this guardian?" I pressed, hope flickering within me.
"It's a she," Viska corrected, his eyes narrowing. “If my knowledge serves me well, you can find her in the frostbitten north of Vinter. But I have to warn you boy. That vixen has quite a nasty temper," Viska explained, gesturing with his paw.
Vinter?
I couldn't help but feel defeated at Viska's words. There was no way I could make the journey to Vinter on my own. The spirits who resided there were notoriously hostile towards man-made magic, and as such, there were no portals in the territory. Instead, one could only enter the frozen lands by invitation from the ruler of Vinter, and through secret pathways known only to the spirits. I heard about this from George after asking about the magic portals in passing.
"There is one way however to force mana into your body," Viska said, a sly grin creeping across his face. "It will be excruciatingly painful. But at least you can at least use some magic."
My ears perked up at the suggestion. However, something about Viska's mischievous expression set off alarm bells in my head. "You're not thinking of doing something dangerous, are you?" I asked warily.
Viska simply hung his long tongue out of his mouth, his face alight with mischief, like a thief hiding his treasures up his sleeves. The red glint of a pair of eyes shone brightly as they fixed their gaze upon me.
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