Twilight of the Gods ✔️

Chapter 23: Vivian the Illusionist

Every Elysian controlled a horde of worshippers.

At Julia's altar, the hungry and homeless muttered their prayers and dreamed of full bellies. The lucky few chosen go to Otherworld where they serve her. Although they performed hard labor on her behalf, it was a small price to pay to never starve. The kings in the icy mountains of Ylivia and the warm islands of Myrania were cruel to their poor either way.

Inside the halls of Iris's churches, a less helpless group of people prayed to her name. They were masochists masquerading as warriors and scholars asking for the patience to deal with life's hardest trials. They walked on hot coals, fasted for days, and engaged in self-flagellation to maintain their discipline. They hoped that their self-control would impress her enough to make them heroes.

Sitting happily on the pews of Sabine's halls were a softer group of people, people who believed in the power of true love. They were the star-crossed lovers, soulmates from feuding families, and wayward elopers who had nowhere to run. They thought Sabine was the most merciful out of all the Elysians, turning her churches into love hotels. Little do they know that they were simply breeding more soldiers for her to use.

Huddled by the hearth on the coldest nights, Hubert's acolytes kneeled before his image. Although his churches were smaller, they were filled with honest, hardworking men. They toiled in the heat and snow, all in hopes of climbing the social ladder high enough to keep their families alive long after their death. They prayed for Hubert's blessings for safe journeys on their merchant ships and an endless supply of metal in their blacksmith shops. Those favored by him got the privilege of serving him for a brief period of time in Otherworld in exchange for a large sum of coins.

Unlike the other Elysians, Vivian's worshippers were a different breed of people. They didn't seek food, glory, love, or coin. They were the miserable and envious, the eternally unhappy. They were often wealthy, penny-pinching landlords or scheming politicians. No amount of power or money could ever fill the pit in their hearts or erase the undeniable fact that there was always someone happier than them. So they prayed for the downfall of their neighbors and asked to always have more than those next to them. If they were devoted enough and they filled her altar with enough offerings, she granted them their wish after a year of service.

It was these worshippers that Anhel met when he strode up to Vivian's part of the palace. They regarded him warily with their bright green eyes, eyes that matched the woman they served. While they could choose to alter their appearance however they pleased when they got to Otherworld, Vivian mandated that their eyes matched the shade of her irises. Maybe it was meant to unsettle the other Elysians and give them the sense that she was always watching them. If that was the case, it was certainly working.

In a past life, Anhel never met mortals face to face. His previous body was huge, his head often surrounded by clouds. A single mortal had been the size of his pinky finger. Having to navigate the world in Daeva's body was humbling. He wasn't any less powerful than before, but people treated him differently now that he possessed a woman. There was less respect in their eyes, something that boiled his blood. At least they still feared him, feared her.

He asked the devotees for an audience with Vivian, telling them that he had an important message for her. They looked at him dubiously. What business could a God have with an Elysian?

"We'll relay your message," one of them said. "Please wait out here." They went inside the building while the rest of the worshippers kept their angry green gazes on him. That, combined with the rays of the twin suns, made him sweat.

How annoying, he thought. There was a time in his life when he didn't have to wait for anything. He had an army of angels at his beck and call, eager to serve. But not all of them were loyal. Ezra's face flashed in his mind briefly. He should have never underestimated the fallen angel. Maybe if he had been more cautious, the Gods would still rule the universe.