Twilight of the Gods ✔️

Chapter 2: Someone is Bad at Chess

Ezra was a careful person. As one of the seven Elysians that kept the balance of the universe in check, he had to be. At least, that was what he told himself whenever he meddled in mortal lives.

He stared intently at his chessboard, eyes fixed upon his white knight piece.

Once upon a time, the Boards were a key asset to the war the Elysians had waged with the Gods. Anhel and Odi were a mighty force to be reckoned with back then, enormous titans who shaped the world. And the Elysians, although powerful now, were just weary refugees fleeing their dead homeland of Elysia when the fighting first started.

If it weren't for the Boards, they wouldn't have turned the tides of the war. None of the Elysians knew where the game pieces or the set had come from. It had come in a gray, unassuming duffel bag at their doors. The only indication of who the sender was, came in the form of a small slip of paper that merely read the name "Nyx."

Ezra suspected whoever that person was, they would come to collect their debt soon for helping them win the war. But in the meantime, the Elysians used the Boards to shape the world into their image.

For Ezra, this meant granting certain mortals special abilities and having them do his bidding. He made his name known in Myrania and Ylivia as the "Charitable One," a deity who would replace the fallen Anhel and Odi and give man the gift of magic.

He gained several worshippers in no time and his fellow Elysians followed suit. Anhel and Odi, although not forgotten, would no longer be revered. Their stories would be old wives' tales and they would be relegated to the ruins of the past.

Using the Boards, the Elysians also created a new home, Otherworld, to replace their memories of Elysia. There, they and their worthy worshippers resided with all of the luxuries under the two suns. It was there that the Elysians finally regained control.

But Ezra was feeling quite the opposite of "in control" as he continued to stare at his Board. He had moved his knight a day ago to capture a pawn, but the piece hadn't budged since then. He shifted his focus to the pawn piece. There was something strange about the squat, black game piece. It phased in and out of the board as if it wasn't really there. He picked up his knight, tapping the pawn.

The game piece changed, growing taller and gaining ridges. He nearly dropped his knight piece on the floor, his hands shaking. He had foolishly sent his knight against a queen piece. Yet, his knight was still intact, the piece warm between his fingers.

He got up from his seat, still uncertain if he had made the right play. He had a sinking feeling that the girl was more dangerous than he feared.

Ezra picked up a puppet, ignoring the sweat on his hands. The small figurine vaguely resembled him, with blue buttons sewn in for its eyes and light brown yarn for its hair. The puppet was his way into the Mortal Realm, a loophole in the restrictions that bound him to Otherworld. His fingers glowed white as he pulls the strings of the puppet and he closed his eyes, instantly transporting himself into a human body.

He took a deep breath, not quite used to the dizziness that the spell caused. He rarely left the comforts of Otherworld unless he had urgent business. Once the spinning sensation stopped, he opened his eyes to find himself sitting before a roaring fireplace clothed in the finest silk pajamas money could buy. In the Mortal Realm, he was a wealthy Ylivian fur trader living in a secluded mansion on the snowy mountainside. It kept him away from the prying eyes of the other Elysians and aroused little suspicion from the few mortals that lived in the village nearby. Besides, anyone who was curious could always be bought off with coin.

He walked out of the room, stumbling. He wasn't used to the weak limbs of this vessel, although in all fairness it was his fault. He had left this body dormant for months, neglecting to care for it.