The War of Gods

Chapter 2 - Part 8

An elderly man stood in front of them, in the middle of four pillars. These pillars formed a square and Joel was just now noticing the humanoid figures around this square. In one edge, there was him, Nerith, and Mavar. But in the other three edges, stood nine humanoid figures of light. Three for each edge.

"You have been chosen for a test of purity and resolve." The elderly man continued. "I am the God of Peace, and I have deemed the twelve of you worthy of my blessing." Some of the figures perked up at this, others seemed to shuffle uncomfortably.

"You have one year to find and keep these artifacts. Whoever possesses them at the end of the year may keep them, and my power. Good luck."

Several of the light figures looked confused, and Joel himself reached out to ask questions. But in the blink of an eye, everything disappeared. They were back at camp.

He looked around, a sense of dread filling him, accentuated by the lack of warmth he felt just moments ago. He could see the remnants of their beam fading into whisps. Three others like it faded along in the distance. Three others remained full and bright.

The whole army was staring at them, confused.

Joel heard the old man's voice in his head. "Mortals, I have scattered three godly artifacts across the continent, and it is your duty to not seek them, for this is a quest for the Chosen Twelve, and the Chosen Twelve only." By the reaction's in the crowd, Joel guessed they could hear him too. "Your world is but an arena, and you are to be spectators only. Do not interfere.

"Good luck, my champions."

The three remaining beams faded.

Joel could feel his whole body tingle. He looked down and saw small light blue whisps coming out of his skin. And he was glowing.

Everything was silent for a moment and Joel found Jordan amongst the crowd. Confused, but with a hint of anger.

"You three," Briggs said, barely a whisper, "in my tent. Now."