T

he tides of water, winds of air, heat of fire and bones of earth formed a sacred bond with the Children of Paragon, scattered between the Island of Wartona and Barnear Coast, easily spreading the words of the Triad across the lands.

From the Kingdom of Hasvern, nestled near the cliff sides of Corcyrian, more over the greener side of Barnear's Coast, harvesting the shards' moral energy and blessing the lands from the hearts of the fragmented comet. Where these children of Paragon once blessed the cursed lands and built temples to worship their new gods, who had saved them from destruction.

Where darkness, rot and chaos once bloomed, now lie green hills and nourished groves, letting sheep and cows graze without fear. Oak trees rise like forgotten guardians, shading the land from the summer sun's heat. Fields of wildflowers cast their hues through the landscape, from the vibrant red of poppies and pale lilies to the white trumpet-shaped datura.

Before the Kingdom of Hasvern's towering walls, where individuals of other known lands and shanty towns came for forgiveness and purity, stood a woman built out of muscle.

Her jet-black hair stuck against her naked back from the blood she had spilt over her head. Loose ends resting on her broad shoulders, not bathed in the blood of a false king.

Her breath came fast as townsfolk passed her, giving her a loathing stare, some whispering under their breath, due to her form or the blood that had dried on her face.

Anemis Belsant, a former child of house Belsant, now a ruthless mercenary working odd jobs from the west to the east, for coins to keep her stomach full and her mind at ease. She has killed more men and beasts than she could count.

Clutching her hand-woven straw bag tightly in her palms, as if it were the coins themselves she had been working for. The prize inside, hard-won and blood-earned, almost cost her her life. She felt its weight in her hands and her bones.

She had crossed deserts and coastlines, fighting and killing men and women alike, for a King who declared himself a god, a being that could change the prophecies themselves. But instead of listening to the goddess's pleas and warnings, Anemis was sent to kill him.

Slitting his throat while he rests, then quickly decapitating his head from his spine, for proof that her task has been fulfilled.

Let this be the last, she wished, before regaining her breath and straightening herself to face the commanding voices of the Triad beyond the walls.

After months of being out in the broken world, it felt as if she trespassed into forsaken ground. Passing the stone-built houses, each with a second story and a lantern hanging above the front door. She made her way towards the Temple of Brysyn, the keeper of balance and faith, on the western wing of the grand hall.

She walked toward the grand hall, turned, and stopped a few steps away from the keeper's temple, with fifteen or twenty marble steps leading up to the entrance.

She took a breath before making her way up, feeling how the air blew onto her back and pulling the small hairs that stuck on her back off her skin. Taking one last step, Anemis stood before the grand twin doors, oak crafted and symbols that never intrigued her when she first came to Hasvern. She walked forth, and as if on cue, the doors opened themselves, graciously letting Anemis in with the payment she needed for her gold.

Passing the entrance, she noticed how the goddess and keeper of Balance sat on her throne, Brysyn.

The few steps between Anemis and the keeper are adorned with pillars made of white marble, with golden accents in the cracks. The marble floor, matching the stairs, leads up to the throne, a seat fit for a god who saved the world from tyranny.

Anemis stopped when she reached the first step towards the throne. She lifted her gaze and watched as the goddess stood from the pristine, making her way down towards her mercenary, ready to claim her gift.

Brysyn now stood face to face with her mercenary, the woman she hired and trusted to kill a false prophet before the prophecy was questioned, making the believers anxious about what was to come.

"I sensed his darkness when you entered the gates, "Brysyn proclaimed as her gaze shifted from the mercenaries to the woven bag in her palm.

"Nearly costing my life for a piece of flesh and skull." Anemis retorted as she handed Brysyn the straw bag.

The Goddess opened the bag and grasped the severed head by its bloodied hair. She lifted it, holding it before her eyes: the cracked blue lips, the pale face... and yet it seemed to proclaim that the king still lived.

"King Rujia, you have succumbed to the falsehood of darkness; even my sisters could not deceive you out of your hardened existence. Now, burn alongside the Second Ascended in the reign of the underworld."

She takes another look at the head hanging in the silent temple. She loosens her grip on the king's sticky hair, listening as it thuds to the floor. To Anemis, the droplets of blood seemed to strike the ground like Rujia himself was spitting at the goddess from the afterlife.

Anemis didn't question the task at hand, feeling the king's vacant eyes looking past her hardened frame. The walls she built around herself sent a chill down her spine.

She shifted her gaze from the decapitated head of the king of falsehood back to Brysyn, who approached the throne after washing her hands in the basin beside it. Anemis had no interest in Brysyn's words; she only wanted her coins and to escape Hasvern before the goddess tasked her with another kill.

The hardened mercenary made her way towards the first few steps towards the stone and shifted her gaze upwards. The goddess who now sat on her throne could feel the lingering questions her mercenary wanted answers to. "There is no need to doubt Belsant. Your coin will be awarded to you... but not within the hour."

Anemis lifts her brow, wondering, questioning the goddess and her payment after risking her life for indeed skull and flesh. Brysyn, on the other hand, shifted in her throne and looked down at Anemis, "At first light, you will be cleansed for your sins you have brought upon the lands. Only then will you receive your coin under the wings of the grand hall."

Anemis clenched her fists as her superior spoke of her cleansing. This was never part of the deal, she thought. She had risked her life for a piece of skull, travelled for days, and now was being told she needed to repent. She steadied herself, forcing her tone to remain controlled despite the anger and spite coiling within her. "This was not part of our deal," she said, her voice sharp.

"No deal is complete until you are blessed by the Paragons. You must seek clarity and peace from the words of our children, or else the sins will consume you."

"The sins already consumed me when I acted upon killing for your liege!" her voice echoed, shattering the silence and peace the temple once held, and when her eyes landed on her superiors, Anemis knew she had done the horrible act.

"No human shall raise their voice for a Goddess who saved them from tyranny!" Brysyn's voice thundered through the marble hall like a storm.

"You shall be bathed in the great hall before touching a single coin, Anemis Belsant! Your sins and darkness have plagued your reverence towards me and my sisters. Deny the cleansing before the light and suffer the same fate that befell our Second Ascended Son witnessed!"

Anemis was silent.

Her voice caught between loyalty to Brysyn and the freedom she yearned for. Never in all her years of serving the three did she hear them speak of the Second Ascended Son, the being who brought darkness down upon the world long before her birth.

The silence was broken when Brysyn spoke, "There is a room waiting for you beneath my temple, and my children will guide you to it. When the first light touches Hasvern, we will speak again of your reward after your cleansing."

Before the mercenary could open her lips, she saw two monks cloaked in white from crown to toe, each wearing a mask to conceal their identity, emerging from the shadows at the sides of Brysyn's elevated throne.

She didn't try to argue with the goddess's command; she simply followed the two monks toward her quarters, nestled deep in the eastern wing of the temple. She avoided eye contact with her superior as she walked down the well-lit hallway with the monks.

Upon reaching the door, the two monks stepped aside, creating space between her and the oak-carved entrance. She approached the door and took the handle, noticing how the monks bowed before she entered the small stone room.

Alone and isolated, Anemis wandered around. A single bed was nestled in a corner, with a painting of Barnears Coast hanging just above the faux fireplace. Aside from candles to light the room if night fell upon the world, a golden basin with a towel rested on a pedestal next to the fireplace.

As she pondered, she approached the basin, grabbed a cloth, and dipped it into the water. Wiping her face, she tried to cleanse herself of the remnants of the relentless task she had just completed. After placing the cloth back into the water to let the blood run from the fabric, she looked at the stone opening. The textures and patterns of the stones broke the sun's rays into various shapes and forms on the floor.

Her eyes met the grand hall, just a few feet away from the Keeper of Balances' temple. Anemis felt an unsettling certainty that she had stepped into a life she could not escape, one in which she would be forced to carry out a god's bidding, whether it was good or bad.

Knowing that King Rujia had nothing to do with the falsehood, nothing to do with the darkness or greed that plagued his city, Anemis was forced to take him out, leaving a maiden and her children to defend themselves in a kingdom without a ruler for the throne.