RE : Archives of Heaven

IV : The Unraveling

Decades slipped by like grains of sand through an hourglass, each moment a testament to the enduring balance that had held the world together. The realms of the gods and the lands of mortals remained intertwined in a fragile harmony, a delicate dance of light and shadow that had persisted for centuries. Under Deyanira and Kallias's vigilant care, the cosmos thrived in a state of equilibrium, where every star in the sky and every breath of life below played its part in the grand design. The celestial beings carried out their duties with grace, guiding the fates of mortals and immortals alike, while the world itself seemed to pulse with a rhythm that echoed the divine order.

But as time wore on, the cracks in this seemingly perfect harmony began to appear—subtle at first, like the faintest hairline fractures in a priceless artifact. The once-unwavering balance that Deyanira and Kallias had cultivated began to shift, imperceptibly at first, but steadily gaining momentum. The signs were there, hidden in the quiet corners of the world where shadows stretched just a bit too long, where the winds whispered secrets of unrest. The deserts, once resilient under Osiris's watchful gaze, started to grow harsh and unforgiving, their lifeblood slowly draining away. In Seraphel, Ayano's great kingdom, the people's murmurings of discontent grew louder, the seeds of rebellion taking root in the fertile soil of dissatisfaction.

The celestial beings, so attuned to the subtleties of the universe, could sense the changes, but their focus remained elsewhere. Deyanira and Kallias, ever vigilant, turned their attention to the grander aspects of the cosmos, unaware that the very foundation of their world was beginning to tremble. The peace they had worked so diligently to preserve was not crumbling in a single catastrophic event but was slowly being eroded, bit by bit, as the forces of chaos and order began to shift out of alignment. The balance that had once been so carefully maintained was now at the mercy of forces beyond their control, and the serenity that had defined the realms for so long was on the verge of unraveling.

In the deserts that Osiris once vigilantly guarded, the first signs of decay began to emerge. The vast, arid land, which had thrived under his watchful eye, started to wither. Rivers that had meandered through the sands, bringing life to the otherwise barren expanse, began to recede. The oases, once lush havens for both man and beast, shriveled into mere memories, their waters reduced to trickles, unable to sustain the life that had flourished around them. Panic swept through the desert's inhabitants as they found themselves struggling for the dwindling resources, their hopes evaporating like the water that once nourished their land.

Merikh, once a diligent and fearsome protector of the desert's people, felt the pull of the chaos within her—a darkness that had always lingered just beneath the surface. The burden of her role, coupled with the relentless call of her darker nature, eventually wore her down. The first night she succumbed to the chaos, the skies above the desert darkened unnaturally, as if the heavens themselves recoiled from the horror that was to come. Merikh descended upon the desert like a tempest, her fury unleashed upon the very people she had once vowed to protect.

As the nights passed, her rampage grew increasingly savage. No longer content with merely extinguishing lives, Merikh's bloodlust evolved into something far more monstrous. She began to feast on her victims, savoring the taste of their warm, quivering flesh, the fear in their eyes as they realized their fate. The chaos within her thrived on their terror, feeding off the despair that seeped into the very sands of the desert. The once proud guardian of the wastelands had transformed into a creature of pure malevolence, her heart growing colder with each life she claimed, each soul she devoured. The desert, once a place of harsh but resilient life, became a nightmare landscape ruled by a goddess who had fully embraced the darkness within her.

Osiris, once revered as the steadfast guardian and god of the desert, found himself powerless in the face of the destruction Merikh unleashed. For centuries, he had been the protector of these lands, guiding his people with wisdom and a strong yet gentle hand. But now, all his efforts seemed futile against the relentless tide of chaos that Merikh had set in motion. Each day, he watched helplessly as the desert, his domain, was engulfed by a darkness that he could not dispel. The once orderly realm where life had endured despite the harsh conditions began to unravel, the threads of its existence pulled apart by the very being meant to safeguard it.