God of Discovery [high fantasy, slow build, mlm]

Arc 3 - 1. The fall of the gods, part 1

Short blurb for this ARC: When the gods fall to the mortal realm, so does D'Argen, a god who crashes with enough force to destroy an entire culture. In response to his fall, he does what he knows best – he runs away and tries to forget about it. It is only through the intervention of his first friend, Lilian, that D'Argen is brought back into the fold, dedicating the next few millennia to aiding the gods in establishing their presence in the mortal realm.

As the years pass, D'Argen begins to feel a deep sense of unease, like something is not quite right. He finds himself questioning his leaders and trying to fight against his own nature without reason. Add to that being haunted by memories that have yet to happen, and D'Argen ends up fearing for his sanity.

When a memory surfaces that shows him the deaths of hundreds of the gods, D'Argen must figure out how to use his broken mind to his advantage, before he ends up losing those closest to him.

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When D'Argen first fell to the mortal realm be heard only one word: forget.

So he did.

And then he hit the ground.

The impact was hard enough to rattle his bones and send a headache splintering through his skull. It rumbled and echoed and got louder and louder. Until he opened his eyes and realized the sound was not in his head. The ground under him, still hot and covered in a very fine layer of black soil, was shaking. The only horizon he saw were the edges of the creater he had created and they were completely white, getting smaller and smaller as the rumbling intensified.

He got up on shaky legs, trying to balance himself even as the ground did not stop moving under him. Something inside him made everything stop for a moment and then he realized it did not stop moving, he just did not feel the shakes unbalance him. His first step out of the centre of the crater was sure. His next was firm. The step after that was a skip over what looked like a piece of metal with engravings on it.

D'Argen focused on that as it trembled and only when he reached for it did he realize what it was. A vambrance. One that matched the silver covering his reaching forearm. Then he noticed his fingers on that hand were bare and cold. The hand that was missing the vambrance had a glove that only covered three fingers. Then he saw strands of long black hair and had to tug on them to ensure they were his own.

It hurt.

He looked back at the place where he had hit the ground and noticed a broken silver bow. Beside it, standing upright in the black soil, was a silver sword. When he reached them, he saw his own reflection in the sword's blade and stopped.

Dark blue eyes stared back at him and for some reason his appearance made him flinch. The vambrance he had on matched the small pieces that connected to form a flexible chest plate and guards on his shoulders and chest. A thick belt at his waist had an empty scabbard for the sword and two smaller sheathes that must have held daggers – the daggers were not there. His legs were also covered in protective and engraved metal.

He was dressed for war though there was not a spec of blood on him or a single scratch.

A moment later, he was kneeling in the hot black soil and leaning closer to the sword to look at his own face. Three fingers covered in a thin black material touched under his eye while the rest of his bare fingers explored his face. He touched the metal around his neck and it felt so constricting that he had to rip it off with shaking fingers. When it landed in the soil with a thud, it started shaking too. The chest plate and shoulder guards were next, the belt around his waist released and he took a deep breath, and then he tore off the guards on his legs. He kept his one vambrance on.