Ichor and Bone

Ichor and Bone

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WpMetadataReadComplete Sun, Nov 10, 201322m
The goddess Vesta lives among the mortals in a modern age, privy to many of the secrets her fellow gods try to hide as they crumble under the weight of their own humanity. A man called death is suffering, and she seems to be the only one willing to care. All too long ago we were the light and darkness in the eyes of the beings called men. The day of our worship has come to pass, falling into the histories as nothing more than myth and legend. The gods are dead, and now we are free of their magic, the fool will chant. And for an age the celebrations will ring loudly across the earth, as man seeks to dissuade himself of the fears of his youth. Enlightenment, they will claim, an age where even God Himself is dead. Once more the fool chants his mockery. But that night has long ended and now the dawn of a new age has begun. A fusion of myth and magic in the science and chemistry of this new age finds birth in the dawning light. God is never dead, and now, neither are the gods.
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The gods have always been such fickle beings. They carry with them unseen expectations and desires, yet they expect perfection from the mortals over which they rule. How would you manage, then, if a god were to set its sights on you and you alone? Could you run? Hide? Or would their fury be inevitable? How do you avoid the rage of something so mysterious and divine? Some say the gods have limits. That if you did not cross into the light of the moon, that she couldn't see you. Simply hide yourself away each night, and the moon would never find you. There was even a night, at least once a month, where the moon would be blind, and you could tread freely through the night. Of course, nothing is certain in the realm of the gods. Note: This story contains human gore and animal death through hunting. These sections are brief, but those who are sensitive to either should use discretion.

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