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Somewhere in North America

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Somewhere in North America

1100, AD

The Gods were dead. Hera, Ares, Hermes, Iris,  all of them. Except for Zeus. And he was angry at Pythia, The First Oracle, for in his twisted mind it was all her fault.

You could have warned us! He had yelled.

She did, or at least she did try. He just wouldn't listen. None of them would except for two. Apollo and Artemis. The two Gods of Sun and Moon had wholeheartedly trust Pythia. She did owe her life to them after all.

It was common knowledge that the people of Greece were angry with their Gods. But their simple rebelling had turned into no longer believing. Once people stopped believing in the Gods, they started to die. They started to bleed.

When the twins had figured out from Pythia's ceaseless riddles that the downfall of Olympus was nearing, the two had assembled four other trusted Gods and Goddesses. Aphrodite, Poseidon, Demeter, and Hades. They took an oath to not speak to Zeus of the problem. Hades was the first to take the oath.

In the end their solution had been simple. Each of them would send down fragments of their power. Each God or Goddess would be able to control the individual that had found their power fragment. Once someone was under their control they would have someone from the inside to preach Hellenica, the worship of the Greek Gods, and therefore they would be kept alive.

Unfortunately for them, no one had found these fragments. When they were sent down The Maniots had invaded the Greeks, leaving the Gods to slowly wither away.

Forever loyal to her master Zeus, the only remaining God, The Second Oracle Dodana had spoken of her former friends secrecy. Zeus had seen this secrecy as betrayal, and sent Dodana after Pythia. And now Pythia was alone, storm abrew above her head, in a snowy forest of pine forever fated to live in fear. She knew this too, because she saw it. But she didn't care. After all, her one true love was now dead. And she only knew of one way to get her back.

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