No one knew where the gods came from. No one knew when their era began.
All they knew was that the gods had always been there; these extraordinary beings who could shake the very Earth and do miracles, with no story, no background, no announcement. Nothing. It was recorded that they'd just flooded the world one day and decided to stay.
And even now, when the supernatural was accepted as the norm, these gods continue to appear, new ones replacing the old, new Temples erected in place of old ones; like the way a mortal changed clothing. Different gods appeared like rain falling from the sky, even greater in number than the mortals who once called the Earth their home.
No one knew what they were exactly, why they had come, or what their objective was. Not one soul.
But there was one thing no mortal knew; one truth they couldn't possibly fathom:
That even the gods...were clueless...

...... Aerwyn had been a god, a topnotch one too, until he'd decided to stick his sword in his fellow god and get convicted for murder.
No one would listen to his reasons; he'd always been a strange one after all. Asking dangerous questions about the origins of the gods, eccentric questions about why they disappeared.
Now, on the run from hunters sent to destroy him, with a knowledge that could change the fate of the god race, Aerwyn soon realizes that his newly acquired knowledge has put him smack dab in the middle of an age old manipulation scheme meant to control the wheels of this world and the ones beyond it.

•••
©Etisioro Onome 2015.
This is the unfinished first draft of the first book in a series I'm working on. There will be extreme changes in the rewritten draft, but I wanted to see if anyone would be interested in the type of books I write.
Thank you!

AERWYN: PRESENTLY.
What made one a god? Divine birth? Divine appointment? Self pronouncement? What made a god? Immortality? Self subsistence? Super power? Invincibility?
Because if you took one look at me now, you wouldn’t think me one.
The raw flesh of my entire left arm throbbed painfully with each graze along the rock walls; the skin hanging down like a tattered white cloth. My right leg was useless, the thigh bone broken so that it tore out of my flesh in a sickening manner, the white bone glowing like a bulb in the darkness, taunting me. My torso throbbed with new, deep and painful claw marks and my right eye was almost blind.
I am Aerwyn and I was a god. Of powerful things, of powerful capabilities. I’d sat on a throne set in broken glass and shattered steel. I’d been a god, who never lacked for worshippers, my Temple full to overflowing with petitioners. Now? I am Aerwyn, the boy bleeding half to death in a rather nasty cave; my Rank torn away from me in the same manner one would rip a bandage from a wound. Now, out of a billion reverencers, only one remained by my side…because she had to anyway.
The portal we’d come through blinked close behind me, shutting me out of the OverRealm, and I hoped she wasn’t still on the other side, still fighting. Even though I suspected that there will be no rest for us, even in this mortal plane, it was my only option of escape and of disappearing. That was if we got through this in one piece.
If I’d taken more time to think, if I’d had more time to plan, I wouldn’t be in a condition this embarrassing. But who had time to think when the Shadows of the North came after them?
I’d known that I was being foolish when I’d urged myself that I’d still had time. The Shadows of the North, even though annoying and quite powerless on their own, were the worst type of hunters to ever encounter when they banded together with a common objective. Legendary, voracious pursuers that was who they were, when they decided on it.
And now, I was the fugitive, hunted by the very beings that had once worshipped me. Now, I was the number one being on death roll, put there by the Cadre of Six. My own blood stained the ground of the cave in which I currently rested. In which I currently hid.
Me, a once reviled god. Number 3 most powerful of the Imperial gods. Shatterer and Summoner of the Return. Aerwyn, the 3rd Lord. Commander of a billion souls, devourer of a billion more. Hiding here from my own kin, my own worshippers; running from death.
Because “godhood” was a lie meant for those who didn’t know, those who didn’t understand. Godhood was nothing more than a concept created to control this world and the ones beyond it. Gods were mere tools, ordinary objects meant to dazzle and occupy you humans, meant to keep the universe in a type of order.
After all, it was you mortals who gave us the title of gods. It was you who quavered at the power of our might, at the mystery of our coming. You, who gave us our purpose, our pride. But, what exactly were we? Who brought us here? Where had we come from? Our history started with, “And we woke to the shining sun.”
And before our own eyes, a lot of us proclaimed gods disappeared and new ones emerged, as mysteriously as we had come. New gods with new names and appearances but similar abilities to the gods we lost. For our kind, it was natural to watch temples fall and new ones rise. It was a thing of dread for most of us, dreadfully waiting for the day we would disappear as well.
The Cadre of Six; those shadowy beings that brought the first of us gods together to form Abyss, the loose empires of the OverRealm; those beings that ruled over us all, couldn’t stop the disappearances. Certainly, they too, waited in fear, for the time of their own disappearance from existence.
We were born of questions and we disappeared under questionable circumstances. But Sanjis hadn’t disappeared.
No, I’d killed him.
…You better run…they’d hunt you to the ends of the earth for this… he’d laughed into my ear when the blunt tip of my broken blade pierced his heart, his blood running down the length of my sword to stain my hands bright red.
I blinked, shaking my head to dispel the memory. But his blood still stained my hands, stained my blade a dry, oxblood color. Sanjis’ death had been inevitable, he’d deserved it-but none of the other gods would listen to me. I had never really been accepted as a powerful god in my own right. Even though I was one of them, they had always kept their distances, thinking me strange…frightening to have appeared out of thin air the same way the former number 3 had disappeared. Now, to them, I was a murderer, a traitor, killing my own kin in cold blood and they didn’t bother to investigate my reasons. They’d chalked my actions down to jealousy. Because Sanjis had been the Number 2 most powerful of the Imperial gods. Because I was a power-hungry son of a bi-
But they didn’t know. They didn’t know why I did what I did. They didn’t know what Sanjis had discovered, what he’d wanted to do with this discovery. They didn’t know what he’d known, what I now know.
No, they know nothing. And they didn’t want to know. They asked no questions, they didn’t care. Because they were gods, because they were immortal, because they were fools.
But like I said before, “godhood” was a lie, nothing more than a screen meant to maintain power and control. And these gods, my own kin, did not want this screen to be broken. They were blinded by the lie of Sanjis’ death so much that they did not see the truth in my own actions. They were so blinded that they did not realize that they had no true control, no true will. That even the Cadre of Six that made the big decisions was just as blind.
They had no questions, asked no questions, but now, I was hunted because I had the answers.
The cave burst with a kaleidoscope of colors too bright for even my good eye. A gust of bone chilling wind engulfed me and I knew they’d found me again. The Shadows. Now, when I had no strength to fight back.
Their black cloaks swirled around me, their armors amoebic bursts of silver and bronze, steel blades laughing at me, mocking my disgraceful end to godhood, to supposed immortality.
Even though it wasn’t common for a god to die, it was not impossible. Once the Rank of a god was torn away from him, half of his being was destroyed; the only thing left was the fatal blow.
Our Ranks were important; an important part of what made us gods…without it, we were nameless…useless. The perfect form of punishment to serve an erring god, the perfect humiliation. And now, there was a wide, circular hole in my chest where my Rank used to be: Number 3 boldly wedged into my body. But just the removal of my Rank wasn’t enough punishment for my sin. No, I had to die.
"Lord Aerwyn, former 3rd most powerful of the Imperial gods, you have been found guilty of treason; killing your superior and brethren in cold blood and without cause." They recited once again, in the uniform, scratchy voices unique to them. "We must take your existence in all totality, as ordered by the Cadre of Six."
The black cloaks descended on me, their steel blades flying with sickening uniformity to my throat.
"Argh!" Blood splattered all over my cheek in droplets, spraying from a point above me. But it wasn't my flesh they cut, or my voice that yelled. The voice was female, raspy. I opened my good eye.
The end of the Shadow’s blade was pointed at my eye, a sheen of bloodied silver light. It was stained with blood and something black as it protruded out of the body shielding me. A bright blue eye watched me, her features shadowed by her heavy cowl. With another gurgle, she fell on me, her blood dripping onto my body.
"Ly-r..." I huffed into her ear and she let out a breath in the same instant she was pulled off me and thrown aside. I could only follow her progress with my eyes as she sailed through the air and crashed, unable to move. I watched, paralyzed, as two Shadows descended on her with their blades, unable to aid her. Or myself.
The Shadow's red eyes filled my vision and his blade tore into my shoulder like knife through butter. I screamed. The Shadow twisted it in and I jerked again.
"S-stop!" I grunted, raising my hand to hold the blade and winced when the cutting edge tore into my fingers. Tears stung my eyes, I was certain it mixed with the blood tracks along my cheeks. "I-I or...order you to..." I choked on my own words.
The Shadow pulled the blade out of my shoulder and made to plunge it into my throat when she wound her arms around his neck and dragged him backward with her. The Shadow flailed, throwing his head back and she squealed, a muffled sound, still gripping his neck from behind.
He threw his head back again and I swear I heard a crack and a feminine grunt but he continued to thrash without release. She was stubborn like that. Once she had a plaything, she never let go.
The Shadow let out another howl and I could make out her teeth locked into his neck. Blood was beginning to drip as she savagely tore out his flesh. And latched on again. He thrashed and howled as she bit deeper.
My breathing was becoming fainter and I was beginning to lose focus, blood oozing from the hole in my chest which was almost close to healing. If it healed, the hole would not close, no, it would stay hollow and I would become one of them-the Shadows. But that wasn't the plan. Tearing flesh and tortured howling were the sounds that kept me from passing out, that kept my eyes open.
Then she dropped the body with a thud, crawling over to me, the Shadow’s blade still comfortably sticking out of her body. Her only eye, bright electric blue, looked down at me from the dark shadow of her face. Then she dragged the Shadow's blade out of her body, with a pained, tired wince and aimed it at my chest.
"L-Lyra!" I gasped, my eyes going wide. ‘What are you-?’
And then she plunged it downward.

•••
Again, thanks for stopping by!

great start!.. awesome descriptive narration... pls keep 'em rolling :-)

Thank you, @Hardethaewoh!
This is chapter 2!

•••

AERWYN: FLASHBACK.
Imperial Peak of the Abyss, OverRealm.
The sun of the mortal world was still embedded into my mind's Eye. The harshness of it, the wonder of it to my newly awakened eye, the heat of it on my body. There were many things that had taken my attention, even after several days and days of roaming. Although, how I'd found a way to entertain myself in a barren waste of land was still beyond me. At least, I'd had company. Even if she was too dumb to talk.
Not too long after, I was accosted by two people who'd claimed they were like me. And they'd brought us here. To this place they called the "OverRealm". The abode of the gods. And I was a god. But I knew I wasn't welcome here. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
Now, the orb of shining light, situated in the vast nothingness of the Abyss, reflected its glory unto my face and I couldn't look away. Not yet. Because I didn't want to. Not yet.
"So, you're the new kid, eh?" A laughing, masculine voice came from behind me and I paused. Yes, this Tower was quite a beauty, the architecture far more advanced than my newly birthed mind could comprehend, better than the bottomless, biting void of the Abyss, even better than that mortal world I'd woken up in. But everywhere I turned, there was always someone curious enough to stick a finger in my eye. It was getting rather annoying.
I sighed a tired sigh and turned, my green cloak lined with brown fluttering in my wake. The man in front of me was tall, too tall for my own frame that I had to look up to find his face. Narrow, bright golden eyes were assessing my face and his mouth was cocked in a smug manner. He had a strange golden chain wrapped around his head, snaking down to weave about his neck. His arms were huge enough to act as pillars.
Beside him was a man, rather angular and edgy, his face narrow and sharp. His brown golden eyes watched my every twitch. They shone like the orb above in the nothingness of the OverRealm.
"What of it?" I shrugged, blinking up at him. I was quite tired of having to act polite and things.
"Y'see, kid, it's quite rare, almost impossible even, to find a god of Imperial status around anymore. It's even more absurd that you just happen to appear after Rutlis went poof!" He smiled a bright smile, but despite his warm disposition, his smile didn't seem friendly. It was almost calculating.
Rutlis. From all I've gathered, this Rutlis had been an Imperial god, the former number Three-the rank I now held. And so far, he'd disappeared suddenly in the same time I appeared. Automatically, I became a suspect. To some, I was even the culprit.
"It's been over what, nine hundred years, and none of us Imperial gods have fallen victim to the Erasal. Then one day, Rutlis disappears and you just happen to stroll right along...it's just so strange, yer see." He shrugged.
I didn't like what he was implying.
"I don't think the Cadre even knows what to do with you...they won't tell us where you popped out from..."
I struggled to keep a straight face. The Cadre had promised that the others would leave me alone to adjust, but I don't think this one heard the decree.
He went right on, pointedly ignoring my twitching brow. "...I mean, you're just a kid, barely past my waist," he was laughing at me, mocking me to my face.
I gritted my teeth. I wasn't that short, he was just ridiculously tall. And he was mocking me with it. I blinked again.
"Ridwan told me they found you in the Aerethic Desert on the mortal plane. Pretty tough fer a kid yer age, eh?"
"I am a god." Was all I answered him with.
"Really, Captain of all things Obvious." Now, his tone was downright mocking. "But if you were mortal, you'd be, what, twelve?" He cocked his head at me, pointedly sizing me up. "A rather tall twelve-year old? You definitely look it."
"I don't care." A sneaky rebuff that meant, Get lost.
"I'm just trying to help, squirt. Unlike Rutlis, you're too lanky and child-faced that I don't think the mortals will see you as a formidable force to worship at all. I still can't believe you're strong enough to be Imperial, not to talk of being the 3rd Lord."
I sighed inwardly. Exactly what the First Lord had said to me when I'd first arrived, but in fewer words than this pest's. Not all the gods believed in my own strength. Not that I'd shown it to them yet, anyway.
"Thank you for your concern. And if I had known this Rutlis, I'm sure I would share your sentiments. Excuse me." I made to leave this pointless conversation. I had someone to feed back in my quarters.
"Don't be rude now," he said as his companion blocked my way. It happened fast, one moment he was standing beside the pestering god, and the next, he was in front of me. "Allow me to introduce myself." He smiled that warm smile that still wasn't friendly again. His hand moved to the sleeve of his golden-yellow robe. "I am Sanjis, 2nd most powerful of the Imperial gods, Bringer of All Light." He raised his sleeve and there, on his forearm, was the silver disc embedded into his body, his Rank, with the number 2 deeply engraved in it. His Rank. This was him. The god a Rank above me. The one a Rank stronger. The one I'd been waiting to meet.
I managed to keep my eyes from falling out of their sockets. Too bad he didn't make a good first impression. I was certain he wasn't going to make a good second one either.
"And this is my priest, Azor." The 2nd Lord, Sanjis gestured to the male blocking my path.
I nodded. "Nice to meet you, Sanjis, 2nd Lord," I spoke, more tentatively than I had done before. "And his Priest, Azor," I nodded at the man. "I am honored. But I must go."
"Aren't you going to let her get some fresh air?" The question made me go still, and for a moment, I was tempted to lie. I don't share play mates too well. But his next words stomped that idea to bits. "Ridwan also said they retrieved you from the mortal plane with a female. Is she your Priest? I don't think so, since you just appeared and you're yet to display your power. What's she to you? Why are you hiding her, eh, boy?"
I walked around Azor, the Priest of the 2nd Lord, and just kept walking. "I am Aerwyn, Sanjis, the 2nd Lord, and I am the Shatterer and Summoner of the Return..."

I've always been a sucker for fantasy stories and for that alone I'd be following this story. Your imagination, the air of mystery is great and best of all quite different from most of what I've read so that is a plus. I have just one criticism. For the first chapter there was a lot of telling and infodumps compared to showing. For example the scene in the cave would have been better served if it focused on the present circumstances with little hints has to how he got there.

On another note, seeing your story has filled me with enough guilt at abandoning mine so I'm starting that story again. Thanks

I've always been a sucker for fantasy stories and for that alone I'd be following this story. Your imagination, the air of mystery is great and best of all quite different from most of what I've read so that is a plus. I have just one criticism. For the first chapter there was a lot of telling and infodumps compared to showing. For example the scene in the cave would have been better served if it focused on the present circumstances with little hints has to how he got there.

On another note, seeing your story has filled me with enough guilt at abandoning mine so I'm starting that story again. Thanks.

Thank you, @sage1000 and Hardethaewoh! I'll take your criticism into consideration during the rewrite @sage1000. Today, I'll post two chapters! Thank you again, for following this!

•••
AERWYN: PRESENTLY.
The echoes of my tortured scream still rang in my ears, mixing with the rhythmic dripping of water from somewhere beside me. Plunk! Drip! Splat! "Gar!"
Lyra's blade didn't just pierce my wound, no, she had other ideas. Her blade surgically reopened the healing blisters on the insides of the shredded hole in my chest, making it resume its profuse bleeding once more.
The acute pain brought bursts of red color to my good eye and made the right one go black. Dizziness swamped my already weakening mind.
"I'm sorry, Lord Aerwyn, but I cannot let the wound heal." She said to me, her bright blue eye fixed on my chest. "It would make the process extremely difficult."
It felt like my Rank was being torn out all over again. I never understand what motivated Lyra's actions sometimes.
"Here it is." She spoke and I was able to see her raise something in the air above me through the haze of pain. The object was a silver cylinder, four inches long and three inches wide. The body was perfectly streamlined, but had rows of sharp plugs around it and it seemed to hum with faint residues of power. When I saw the number 3 engraved into the circular disc face, I jerked. My Rank. She'd gotten my Rank back.
But how did she...?
"I'm sorry, Lord Aerwyn, this might cause you pain." Her voice was flat and mechanical, but her eye glowed with empathic pain. "Forgive me." She said and pushed the cylinder back into the hole in my chest.
The pain came again. This time like a rain of sharp needles, piercing the raw flesh of my insides as the sharp plugs on the cylinder ripped through the tender, freshly healing wounds of my insides. Worse than the first time they put it in. Volts of power crackled from it as it connected with the sockets planted around inside my chest, sending little electric shocks up and down my body.
Of course, what she was doing was almost suicidal, replacing my Rank after it had been torn out. My body might not survive the process in its current condition.
"Dwaal." She said to me. "If you enter Dwaal, it'll be easier on your body, Lord Aerwyn."
Dwaal. The relaxed state of mind that allowed gods to do even more extraordinary feats, to dig up more power. A state that allowed us to rest our minds and remake our bodies.
My breathing was still labored and each breath I took was like scraping a claw against my inner stomach walls, and my flesh, still raw and torn, hurt, but I managed to speak. "Draw the Andro...drovas." I gasped.
"Yes, Lord Aerwyn." She moved away from me and knelt down, drawing out a piece of white chalk from the pouch around her waist. "'When the glass breaks into pieces, the mortal demon wails, and the dust laughs in his face. If the steel shatters, the red bearded Shepherd is hung from a tree and the open sky mocks.'"
Yes, I know. The Androvas chant was a rather nonsensical thing. I had decided to showcase my poetic genius while intoxicated. But it got the job done anyhow.
"'The Seventh Healer is awakened from his slumber and the Killer is alive. Open on the Aeticon is the power of the broken repairer. As the First Lord cries, the Third Lord smiles.'"
Definitely a product of drunken genius. The chalk markings sparked green and ropes of green energy shot up around me, connecting together at each chalk marking. The energy came to settle over my battered frame in a runic circle of light, spreading a kind of healing chill all over my body. The Androvas. A higher level of the Summoning the Return, level 58. It was a good thing that I had taught it to Lyra in time.
Dwaal washed over me, a type of survival mechanism my brain put on autopilot whenever my body was close to crumpling in on itself. It was a mechanism present in every god. That I know of, anyway. I let myself sink into it, trusting that Lyra, my Priest and playmate, would watch over me.
:::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::::::: ::::::::::::::::::::
No one knew how my mind's Eye worked, no one had ever been in it, seen through it. Not even Lyra. And I preferred it that way. My Opinions of things would remain here, where I could touch, perceive, see, hear and taste Them.
I was vaguely aware of Lyra kneeling beside my body in the cave, watching me. I could almost feel the prickly sensation that came with being stared at too much. I hated having a staring match with Lyra. She always won. I found it creepy how she just wouldn't blink, sometimes. I was tempted to take a peek out of my mind's Window to look at things in the cave but decided against it. It would take too much effort, so I turned away and took a step deeper into my Myself.
It was during seventy whole years of consistent Meditation that I was able to construct this place. Every pillar and crevice, every rock face, even the sky. Up in the sky, a perfect physical imitation of the mortal world's Sun hung there, although I couldn't quite capture the texture... I couldn't get it just right.
Everything living possessed a mind's Eye, but it was only those with deeper understanding of the Laws of Spiritual Relations with Reality that could craft a complete world in their mind's Eye, in other words, gods and their Priests.
I wove through the thick jungle I'd created at the Entrance of my mind's Eye, with the intention of trapping any trespasser who wasn't supposed to enter it, and came out on the other side with relative ease.
Hosts of buildings, Thought Shelters meant to protect the most precious of Opinions, that jutted out of mountains of rocks came immediately into view and I reassessed them. It had taken me a hundred and twelve Meditative trips to build them and I still wasn't tired of seeing my handiwork.
I'd stored the Thought Implant that I had uprooted from Sanjis' mind in one of these buildings and just the thought of it took me straight into the right hall.
Ah, King has come to visit again. A familiar voice trilled from a point to my left and I turned my head.
To see a carbon copy of me skipping down. A wide-smiling, huge-eyed, rather over excited carbon copy of me.
I held in a tired sigh. Of all the Opinions.... "Where are the rest, Optimus?" I looked him up and down, hoping to all things broken that this clone hasn't tampered with the Thought Implant.
Running...running...you were doing a lot of running... He waved his arms about and I cringed. Sometimes I found it hard to believe that this clone was an aspect of me. It was a disconcerting discovery.
"Where is it?" I asked him, not bothering to exchange pleasantries with him. "The Implant?"
Optimus's mouth spread in a wide, excited smile and I drew back again. There was no way this clone was a...
It's right here! He raised his hands and gripped his head. I definitely did not like Optimus. He always liked to do things the extreme way. Somehow, he found that method fun. I wasn't too keen on seeing him do that again.
His fingers dug holes in his face through to his skull and he broke it open with a sickening crack, revealing a solitary Thought Strand weaving around his brain. It's right there! I didn't tamper with it or anything, King!
Yuck. I held down a shiver as I walked forward, pulling the Strand out of his brain. The twisting Thought Strand wriggled in my hand as I stared at it.
Aren't you going to Weave it into parchment, King? Don't you want to see what's inside it?
I looked up at Optimus. "Not yet." I told him and returned my gaze to the Strand.
Something told me it wasn't going to be that easy. That thought crossed my mind in the same instant I felt the last of my wounds close under the Androvas.

AERWYN: PRESENTLY.
I waited for my eyes to focus, for my mind to link back into Reality. It took quite some time to settle back into the Physical plane. It was one disadvantage of retreating into one's mind's Eye for too long. It took a considerable amount of time to reroot in the physical plane.
When focus came back, everything hit me twice as hard, painfully zapping my overly tender sensory organs. This was another disadvantage. When you finally settled, everything; the sounds, the smells, tore into you with more force than necessary.
I waited for this stage to pass as well. Then, I carefully sat up and looked around. The cave was dark, the constant droplets of water forming music in my ears. Wisps of green energy floated up around me before dissipating. The Androvas had broken.
I stopped and did a double take. The dead bodies were no longer around me. I looked up and noticed Lyra's sharp blue eye watching me.
"Remind me to recompose the Androvas chant, please. That thing just about gave me a headache." I told her as I steadily got up to my feet. Her blue eye was still watching me. "And stop staring at me like that. It gets creepy after the first five seconds, Lyra."
"Forgive me, Lord Aerwyn," her eye disappeared as she tipped her head in apology. "I just wanted to return your trousers. I have salvaged the best I can."
I saw her raise the tattered pair of black trousers to my view. It was rather embarrassing how I, 3rd most powerful of the Imperial gods, was reduced to making do with a pair of tattered trousers.
I crinkled my nose. "It's still tattered, Lyra." I told her, letting displeasure color my tone. I knew it wasn't her fault, none of this was, but I was feeling rather put out by the recent turn of events.
"I tried my best, Lord Aerwyn." Her head remained bowed. There was a quiver in her voice but before I could question it, she went on. "I tried to stitch it all together, but I ran out of thread."
Her words made me feel like crap. And then, I felt stupid, standing in a cave buck ass naked, arguing and pouting over a pair of trousers that was supposed to be covering my sorry butt cheeks.
"Fine, just hand it over." I sighed and stretched my hand out and she put the tattered pair of trousers in my hand. With another sigh, I put the disgraceful piece of clothing on and buttoned it at the waist before I zipped up the fly. I silently gave thanks to all things broken that, at least, the fly hadn't been slashed to bits. "Where are the bodies?" I asked, trying to ignore the memory of the savage way she'd torn out that unfortunate Shadow's throat.
"I stripped them of anything valuable and burned them all." She said, raising a bag full of pilfered bounty to my view.
"Smart girl," I smiled and she tilted her head again, as if to hide her already flaring eye. "Did you get any of their clothing?" I pointed to my bare white torso.
"Forgive my negligence, my Lord!" She bowed her head again, whirling around to pick a heavy looking black cloak from the ground before she turned again and stretched it out to me.
I rolled my eyes as I took the cloak from her. "You should drop the honorifics and bowing, Lyra. We're in the mortal plane now. We don't want people to know that I'm a god, not to talk of a wanted one, now, do we?" I said as I fastened the cloak at the neck. The cloak would have been too long for me save for the fact that I was a few more inches taller than five foot eight. But it was definitely too heavy for my slender, tall frame to hold up. The tips were tattered and muddy with traces of blood and some things that looked like strips of flesh. I crinkled my nose and looked away.
"Did their clothes, by any chance, contain mortal money?" I asked, even though I knew it was a hopeless question.
She shook her head, shifting on her feet. "No, Lord Aerwyn. Just god units."
Well, that was utterly useless to us here in the mortal realm. Before I became a fugitive, way before, I never needed to obtain mortal money. All I had to do was appear in any of my Temples and my priests would attend to my every whim. Well, that wasn't going to be possible now. I couldn't afford to leave tracks.
I looked down at the ground of the cave, studying the chalk markings as I tried to calculate the amount of time we'd wasted here.
"Clean this up, Lyra." I pointed to the markings on the cave ground. "We need to leave here. Another group of Shadows would soon appear here. We need to put a lot of distance between them and us."
"Yes, Lord Aerwyn."

Feedme more

@Hardethaewoh, the story is just beginning, and while I understand now that I've been doing a lot of info dumping and whatnot, this is a first draft, and nothing much happened before I stopped and began to write the prequels. I lost direction with the story at some point so... anyway, thank you for reading! I'll post two chapters today! From Lyra's POV now.
Have fun! I hope.

Thank you guys for following the thread! Here's two more chapters.


•••

LYRA: FLASHBACK.
Imperial Peak of the Abyss, OverRealm.
A painful spasm shot up through my ribcage and I doubled over, shaking until the wracking subsided. When my breathing returned to normal, the world, in turn, whorled into ultraviolet Technicolor with spots of random color. The Realic Sequence was already dimming under the haze of pain, now mere blurs of numbers I could barely even see.
I was losing control over the Realic Sequence, the central coding for my nervous system. I should report this to my Lord, even though he barely understood, he would fix me. He always did. But I didn't want to. I wanted to hold on a while longer. He always played with me at this time of the eve. I loved the games we played. And for that, I could hold on a little longer.
Then Lord Aerwyn appeared. My first impulse was to run to him and take his hand so we could play tag, but I paused. He didn't look like he wanted to play tag. My vision dimmed and sharpened again as I took him in.
Blood stained his cloak, soiling the dark green material a dark red. The same red painted his hands, from the tips of his fingers to his elbows and dots of it was sprayed across his cheeks.
"Lord Aerwyn." I bowed, my eye carefully studying him.
"I killed Sanjis." He explained, raising his arms to look at his bloody hands.
I nodded and straightened to my full height, calculating the amount of time we had before the bells began their warning tolls.
"Okay." I said. "Are we going to stay here and wait to be caught?" I asked him, even though I already knew his answer.
"No, Lyra. We aren't going to stay here." He said, rolling his smoky, leaf-green eyes before locking them on me. "We're leaving."
Lord Aerwyn is beautiful. The thought came unbidden to my mind, through the jumbled mass of scattered numbers, despite the urgency of the current situation. His leaf-green eyes darted around the quarters, the black linings around them accentuated their smokiness. I tried to use kohl once, to remake the dark circle around my own eye, but it didn't turn out so well. His black hair was matted with blood and a lock rested on his brow, a sharp contrast to the sheer whiteness of his skin. I watched his pretty mouth form the words before I heard them.
"First things first," he looked me up and down, as if trying to determine the state of my body's health. "Are you hungry?"
His tone held the inflections of boredom. I shook my head. "No, Lord Aerwyn."
"Are you fully functional?" His next question.
"Yes, Lord Aerwyn." I said, smoothly speaking the lie even as a sharp ache lanced through my back and the Realic Sequence faltered a bit more.
"Hmmm." He watched me for a moment longer before his eyes darted back to the door.
"Where are we going to go, Lord Aerwyn?" I spoke when it was clear that he wasn't paying attention.
"The mortal plane." As he said the words, I could hear the bells of Imperial Tower begin to toll. His eyes were still fixed on the door. "They've discovered the body."
I wouldn't ask any questions. My Lord Aerwyn would have justifiable reasons for committing treason. My duty was to stand with him. I would willingly stand with him.
"We should leave, Lord Aerwyn." I spoke and he blinked. "Finding a portal to the mortal plane takes a lot of time."
He nodded. "It would take some time before they discover that it was I who did it. That should give us enough time to find a portal."
"Yes, Lord Aerwyn." I nodded, strapping my pouch of daggers around my waist and then, I threw my sheathed katana across my back.
Maybe we would play tag later. A spasmodic contraction ran up my spine to hit my brain.
The Realic Sequence fractured a bit more under the attack...

LYRA: PRESENTLY.
90, 65, 23, 15, 86, 4...
The Realic Sequence scrolled across my vision, spotting the ultraviolet Technicolor with precise dots of Unknown color. The bright spectrum rounded in on my consciousness, rotating my mind's Eye anti-clockwise.
37, 54, 86, 42, 78, 0...
"Clean this-26, 92, 45-up, Lyra." He pointed to the markings I had drawn on the cave floor. His words translated into the Sequence, warping the letters into double and triple-digit numbers. "We need to-13, 86, 3-leave here. Another group of Shadows would soon appear here. We need to put a lot of distance between them and us."
The numbers formed a corresponding row in my brain, and it translated them into words. "Yes, Lord Aerwyn."
I dropped the bag containing the dead Shadows' valuables on the ground by the rocky walls and moved to begin the task given to me.
I saw him sink to the ground, holding his head in his hands. Lord Aerwyn was thinking. It was best that 60, 43, 91, 86, 17, 2.
Yes, that was a better solution. I focused on the task at hand, holding in the needles of pain that danced in my ribcage. Now, I'd added more damage to it than it originally had. I would be grateful if I could walk 12, 36, 71, 86, 50, 5.
It didn't take much time to remove the markings from the ground. I simply used the Erreas, a Summoning the Return level 1.
"'If the window breaks in two, the Welder is summoned and when the stool shatters, the Carpenter is called to remake it.'" I sang the simplest chant in the entire ninety-five levels of the Summoning of the Return. "Open on the Zanbatar is the power of the shattered repairer, Summoning the Return, Erreas level 1."
The white chalk markings turned liquid and washed into brown substance, melding with the color of the cave ground, and thus, disappearing.
86, 14, 24, 59, 32, 1. "It's done, Lord Aerwyn." I told him as I straightened out of my crouch. Pain followed me up but I buried it under the Realic Sequence. Now was not the time to act sickly. Lord Aerwyn wasn't safe yet.
I watched him carefully as he stood up, dusting the back of his trousers and cloak. "Then it's time to go." He said and I nodded.
"Where will we go, Lord Aerwyn?" I asked as I picked the bag of Shadow valuables from the ground and threw it over my shoulder again.
"Preferably the most populated area in the mortal plane." He said, looking at me with his smoky green eyes. "We'd be able to hide there for a while."
There was an edge to his tone, an indicator that gave him away. That made me sense that he wasn't telling me everything.
"Yes, Lord Aerwyn." I nodded, deciding to ignore it, I would know it soon enough. "I will hack a portal going to the Africols." I bowed.
Lord Aerwyn took my hand and electricity zapped my arm. It wasn't an entirely unpleasant feeling, although it did add to the ache in my joints.
"Do it while running, Lyra." He said, pulling me along with him. "The Shadows are coming."

Okay, I lied. Here's two more chapters. I'm feeling rather jolly at the moment.


•••

AERWYN: PRESENTLY.
"The Shadows are coming." I told her as I pulled her along with me. I could feel the waves of their energies pouring into the cave. "Have you found that portal yet?"
Lyra spoke as the entrance of the cave came into view, rays of blinding white light streaming in.
"Not yet, Lord Aerwyn," she told me as she stretched her hands out in front of her, splaying her palms. "'I plant my feet in the East, and place my hands in the West. My eyes watch for the North and my ears listen to the music of the South...'" She was chanting the basic Deep Compass Spell known by every god and Priest in the world. That I knew of, anyway.
Four strips of blue energy formed a cross enclosed in a circle of light in front of her, indicating the various points of location.
"Thirty-one, fifty-two, ninety-five..." The symbols were scrolling across the circle, glowing brighter and brighter as she reached the possible coordinates. "Twenty, forty-eight...there!" She locked the symbol in the circle. "Portal sixty-six."
We were already out of the cave, nearing the surrounding woods when a burst of color engulfed the cave. The Shadows.
Lyra locked her palms and the circle of light expanded and solidified into a circular gate that opened on its own accord.
"Come, Lyra!" I said as I flew through the doors. I could see the Shadows running out of the cave, towards us.
But Lyra still stood at the gate entrance.
"Lyra! What are you doing!?" I whirled around, glaring at her form as she bent into a crouch, placing her palm on the earth.
"I will catch up with you, Lord Aerwyn. Keep going!" She didn't turn to look at me as she spoke, placing her other palm on the earth as well. "'All gates close, all crevices seal. All windows shut up, all holes fill!'" She chanted, and I locked my teeth.
"That chant is too long, Lyra! Get up from there!" I growled, watching the Shadows draw closer. I didn't have any intention of engaging them in battle three times in one day.
"'Open on the ZenZanbatar is the power of the raging destroyer, Shattering the Return, Rünar level 62!" She slammed her palms on the earth and the ground split and shattered, chunks of the earth spraying in the air, dust clouds cloaking the gates of the portal as it slammed shut and flowed back into the Stratospace, locking out the advancing Shadows. The gates had caught a Shadow's fingers as it closed and the severed fingers twitched on the ground. I stared at them, and they twitched back at me, as if mocking me. They had almost got us. Almost.
There was silence for a long time. It was within this time that I realized that I had panicked. Me, a once reviled god, afraid of the very beings that had once worshipped me, panicking like one of those mortal worms. Disgust rose like bile in my throat.
I walked toward Lyra. "Are you mad, Lyra?" I ground out at her, clenching my fist. "Next time when I tell you to move, you should damn well obey me!" I hissed, throwing my foot forward and kicking her in the back, my foot connecting with her backbone.
She slumped forward without a sound. I paused, blinking. I'd lost my temper. And kicked Lyra. In the back. After she'd just performed a high level of Shattering the Return.
Dang. I acted like such a toddler sometimes. "Lyra?" I knelt beside her body, running my hands up and down her body for injuries. Her skin was smooth, I was unable to discern much. "Did you die?"
"15, 23, 32, 86, 10, 6..." She murmured, rolling over.
"You didn't finish the incantation. Are you mad?" I frowned at her half-dazed face. "You could have killed yourself."
"72, 14, 66, 86, 93, 7." She said as she pushed herself up into a sitting position.
"You're reciting those number sequences again," I felt a hand to her forehead. "Are you sure you're all right?"
"Lord Aerwyn," she blinked at me and scrambled into a kneeling position. "Forgive my insolence! I will never disobey you again!"
I sighed and rose to my feet, taking her hand and pulling her up with me. "Are you sure you're fully functional, Lyra?"
"Yes, Lord Aerwyn." She nodded and bowed.
I studied her for a few moments before focusing on the situation at hand. I would just have to take her word for it. I didn't have time to check her myself.
"This portal leads to the Africols?" I spared her another glance before beginning to walk.
"Yes, Lord Aerwyn." She spoke, walking beside me at a slow pace.
"Pick up the pace, Lyra. Just because we've secured this portal doesn't mean we're completely safe." I told her before I remembered that she'd expended too much energy on the Runär level 62 of the Shattering of the Return. Stress really brought out the jerk in me.
"Yes, Lord Aerwyn." She answered and her stride increased.
I sighed. "We'll rest when we don't have the Shadows on our tails, Lyra." I said. "Let us keep walking for now."
"Yes, Lord Aerwyn."

AERWYN: PRESENTLY.
The portal blinked close behind us and I arched my brow, taking in our surroundings.
The walls of the alley was black with soot and covered in green, worm-infested moss. I crinkled my nose. I'd forgotten how disgusting the underdeveloped areas of the Africols were.
"What had they been planning to pick up here?" I walked forward, putting my hand over my nose to dispel the stench. "Waste?"
"I'm not certain, Lord Aerwyn." Lyra told me as she followed behind me.
I looked around, studying the layout. "Did you mix up the coordinates, Lyra?" I glanced at her over my shoulder.
"No, Lord Aerwyn." She shook her head, her bright blue eye darting around the alley. "I didn't mix them up."
I turned my head away from her. "Well, we don't have time to discuss the street layout. We should keep moving. Hopefully, they still have those charity hostels..." I trailed off, cursing my luck. Me, a god, hoping to find one of those charity hostels meant for poverty stricken mortals. Not to mention, we looked the part with our tattered clothing and bare feet streaked in mud and other things. We definitely won't be noticed in this part of the Africols. Not much, anyway.
Yes, I do believe I have the right to be bitter for a day or two.
"We should keep moving, Lord Aerwyn." Her voice pulled me out of the throes of self-pity and condemnation.
"Well, well, well, look what we have here," a foreign voice spoke from the mouth of the alley and we turned our heads to look.
Two boys were sauntering towards us, almost swaying over, smug sneers drawing their mouths wide. They were thin and wiry with hollow cheeks and bright, hungry eyes. The only differentiating factor was their clothing. For hungry looking fellows, they sure had expensive clothes. The one swaying arrogantly from the right wore a brown leather coat, but it was the other one's black silk jacket and white shirt that caught my eye. It would fit me perfectly.
I narrowed my eyes as they drew closer. Lyra came to stand beside me and I saw her eye flare from the corners of mine.
"What do we have here, Ynir?" The one in the brown coat smiled leeringly at us.
"Jackpot." Ynir, silk black jacket, said. They burst out laughing at their silly joke.
"They don't look rich, tho', Ynir." Brown coat went on. "What you think we can get out of them?"
"Dibs on the pretty lady over there, Arou. Drop the bag, sweet thing," Ynir gestured at Lyra and I allowed an amused smile despite my anger. "I get to go first, you rummage what you can off the kid."
"Sure thing, Ynir. Just don't use her all up." He snickered and started to walk towards me. "This is nothing personal, kid," he sneered at me. "Just business."
My cup of patience was close to overflowing. On top of being a fugitive from my own home, deserting those privileges that I enjoyed as a god, I had no intention of letting a bunch of sorry mortals add me to their list of conquests. I am a god, for the love of all things broken!
"Just business, you say?" I allowed boredom reflect in my tone, in my facial expression. "Then you won't mind us borrowing your clothes, would you?"
Arou paused his advance, reassessing me. "You've got a smart mouth on you, don't you, kid. I would enjoy tearing that mouth off your face."
I just regarded him coldly. "I'm bored of you." I told him, pushing my hand through my hair and it came away stained in red. Oh, right. I should wash out the blood from my hair.
"What the-?!" I turned my head in time to see Lyra heave Black Jacket with one hand, like he weighed nothing, and fling him across the alley.
"Argh!" Black jacket yelled as he crashed into the ground. "Oomph!" He rolled over.
"Ynir!" Arou called, distress coloring his face, his tone. He turned to me, his face scrunched up in rage. "You born scum of Lazar!"
Lazar? A minor god of snakes and vermin. Rank 1206. It got torn out and he became a Shadow. Obviously, this idiot didn't know his history.
"This is nothing personal," I threw his words back in his face. "Just business."
"Don't move!" I turned my head to see Ynir point his gun at us. "I'm going to kill you, you bastards!"
"Shattering the Return, Uedar level 21." Lyra spoke from beside me, her palm pointed at Brown coat. He crumpled to the ground without ceremony, his eyes open wide in shock and his mouth wide open in a silent scream.
The Uedar level 21 destroyed the nerve impulses in the body, severing the communication between the muscles and the brain, effectively Returning the victim to a state of paralysis.
"What are you people!? " Black Jacket yelled, swinging the gun wildly between the two of us. "God ass kissers!?"
God ass kissers. A slang for the craft wielders-a group of people who devoted their lifetimes to a certain god in exchange for god knowledge and magic. Too bad he was so, so far from the mark.
I rolled my eyes and raised my hand to my hair.
"I said not to move! I'm going to shoot, I swear!" He was yelling now, fear very evident in his eyes, and all I wanted was an unnoticed passage through this parts.
"Calm down, Ynir." I spoke his name, waving him away as I leaned against the alley wall. "You're acting like a child."
"Die, demons!" He screamed and his finger pulled the trigger back in the same instant Lyra gripped his wrist, taking the bullet in her shoulder with nothing but a jerk.
And then, she was bending his wrist at an odd angle until he dropped the gun. In a flash, the cutting edge of her unsheathed katana was pressed against his throat. His eyes flew wide and he seemed to hold his breath.
"Like I said before, you wouldn't mind if we borrowed your clothes, would you?" I tilted my head to the side, keeping my blank expression.
Slowly, he shook his head, his wide eyes focused on Lyra's blade pressed at his throat. Her arm was steady so that the sharp edge of the blade did not even break the skin. Yet.
"I particularly love that jacket of yours," I nodded at the silk jacket he wore. "And your shirt. I can manage your trousers."
Lyra leaned back silently to stand beside him, moving her blade from his throat, but she kept it at the side of his neck.
"Please don't...don't kill me," he was sobbing now and my mouth turned down in disgust.
Coward.
"Lyra, could you improvise with Brown coat's clothes?" I spoke to her as if Ynir hadn't said a word.
"Yes." She nodded, her blade still at his throat. "I will wait for you."
At least she remembered to drop the honorifics, even though she looked slightly uncomfortable.
"I even have money! Lots and lots. I robbed it off some rich family!" Ynir raised his voice again, not enjoying the fact that we were blatantly ignoring him with a sword at his throat. "You can have it! You can take it all!"
I turned my head to regard him again. "Why, thank you." But my smile told him that he wasn't leaving this encounter whole. He started to shake. "But you cannot leave here with the knowledge of what I look like." I told him. "I'm trying to blend in, you see, and I can't afford to leave any tracks."
"Shall I erase their memories, Aerwyn-kïnto?" Lyra turned to me. "It is already risky enough now that they are unstable. They might lose their minds."
Ynir's eyes widened.
I looked at him and spoke as I watched him, picking up his discarded clothes from the alley ground. "We won't leave any tracks that way."

@Hardethaewoh, thanks!! Nope, there is no longer a Nigeria in this series. Sorry for the extremely late update! And thank you to those who read this! I appreciate it!
•••••••••
AERWYN: PRESENTLY.
The silk jacket fit perfectly, but his trousers were a bit too small for me. I pulled it down enough to cover my calves so that it was hanging down my hips. I hoped it was a fashionable look in the mortal world.
Lyra had torn off the bloody, tattered ends of her dark green gown and ripped off the top, turning it into an impromptu skirt. Then she'd donned Brown coat's coat on top of the strips of cloth she'd wrapped around her chest. We'd taken time to wash the blood and grime off our bodies and out of our hair as much as we could with a large bucket of rain water Lyra'd found under a roof dripping water at the back of the alley, and I'd made sure she washed out her mouth.
"Lyra, let me look at you." I said and took a step back, as she straightened. I looked her over. "You could blend right into those 'crazy youth' groups." I waved at the oddity of the brown coat, ripped green 'skirt' and worn, flaky combat boots that had previously been owned by Brown coat. "You are presentable, at least, and your Face blends right in."
Lyra would definitely draw attention if she showed her true face, and she'd be regarded suspiciously if she walked around with a heavy, large cowl over her head. Either way, we'd draw unwanted attention. So, it was only fitting that I crafted a temporary Face for her. Summoning the Return for Crafting a discarded Face hadn't taken much time. Crafting the Face itself had been the block. At least, I'd done a pretty decent job in such a short time span.
Her only eye, the bright electric blue, and face, was masked under a Face with a complete pair of bland brown ones, a hooked nose and a thin mouth. I would say she was pretty. But the Face creeped me out a little because I pretty much liked her true face, but we were trying to blend in and it was necessary. She wasn't even complaining. Lyra never complained. And she rarely asked questions.
When I had told her what I'd done to Sanjis, I'd half expected her to shoot me with a barrage of questions, but she'd simply said, "okay," so carelessly, like she couldn't care less about what I did. I sighed. But then again, Lyra wasn't normal. Truthfully, I didn't know what Lyra was, exactly.
When I'd awakened in the Aerethic Desert, the only other person there with me had been Lyra. I'd found her after roaming for days, lying broken in the sand with her electric blue eye looking up at the sky. She hadn't been able to speak, because as at that time, she'd had no throat. She hadn't had much of a body, to begin with. She'd been the first person I'd ever used the Return on. After that, she followed me everywhere and I had enjoyed the company since I hadn't known who I was, or where I was, or why I was where I was.
In the long run, I began to suspect that Lyra wasn't mortal. No human would have survived not having much of a body, or no voice box...losing so much blood. But she wasn't a god. That I was sure of. Lyra wasn't so sure what she was or where she'd come from either. She didn't really show signs that she cared. I wasn't bothered. Most of the time.
"Where are we going to go now, Aerwyn-kïnto?" She bowed to me, stiffening when she realized her mistake. "Forgive me!" She made to kneel but froze, realizing that that action would only worsen the situation. So she just hung there, not sure of what to do.
I found it a wee bit amusing. "Up, Lyra." I motioned for her to stand. "I'll be paying some old friends a visit soon enough."
"Old friends?" Lyra knew that I, obviously, rarely kept friends. I'd considered Sanjis a friend and look where he ended up.
"I'm going to call in a debt." I said.
"Okay."
There she went again. No questions. All she ever said was "okay." She didn't ask questions, she didn't needle me with lectures on why I should always give her adequate information. She just followed orders. Not that I was complaining. It made things a lot easier.
"Aerwyn-kïnto?" Her voice came again, sneakily accusing.
"What is it?" I answered, not liking her tone of voice.
"You want to go to your Temple, don't you?" Her question hit the mark. At least some. "That debt you want to call in. You want to see the priests."
I was tempted to change my plans but I decided against it. I wouldn't cut off my nose to spite my face. Just because she rarely asked questions didn't mean she never did.
"Yes, Lyra." I said, running my fingers through my freshly washed, wet hair, smoothening out the tangles. "Do you have any objections?"
"No." She shook her head. "I just wanted to understand." A noncommittal shrug.
"Good. Then let's get going." I said, already turning to leave.
"Are we going to just leave them here?" She looked at the two unconscious men lying in a heap on top of each other. "Wouldn't that look suspicious?"
"This is the ghettos in the Africols, Lyra. People rob each other naked all the time, it's nothing to worry about. Pick up the pace. This place stinks." I waved at her to hurry up.

AERWYN: FLASHBACK.
Imperial Peak of the Abyss, OverRealm.
"Stay here." I told her as I rose from my crouch in front of her. "I don't still believe we're welcome here, so you can't come out yet."
She regarded me with her bright, blue eye and then, she made to get up.
"I said you should stay!" I hissed at her, letting my hand fly out and she shrank deeper into the tiny alcove beside the fireplace.
Satisfied, I turned and headed for the door. "I'll be back. Wait for me." I called out to her and I stepped into the hall, locking the door behind me.
"There you are!" A sneaky, cheerful voice called out and I bit my tongue. Why now? Why, why, why?
Once again, I turned my head to find my new disturber. A tall, lanky male was striding towards me, with a slim, busty female at his side. She instantly captured my attention. She looked like she was moulded from clay. Each curve was perfectly dipped and spread. Her face was too flawless for it to be natural. The only imperfection were the smears of color on her cheeks and arms, and even those were drawn too expertly to not be deliberate.
I narrowed my eyes at the advancing duo and went back to studying the male. He was slim, lanky, and I wasn't sure how he managed to walk with such grace, having such long limbs. He had a band wrapped around his head and his eyes were bursting with color, his irises assuming different colors with each eye blink, smears of color were splattered in dots and smears around his face and fingers, and just like with Sanjis, I wasn't too excited about that smile on his face.
I moved away from the door and started down the long corridor towards the food court. I didn't want them to stand so near my room, not when she was in there.
"Hey, wait! Sanjis did say you were a rude one." He called and I looked over my shoulder to see him moving to catch up with me.
"What do you want?" I asked him as I faced forward, pushing my hands into the pockets at the sides of my robe.
"Ooh, such deep voice! You know, I was expecting you to have those tiny children's voices, but look what I get! A boy with an adult's voice!" He clapped his hands and I saw sparks of color splash in the air from the mere act. I narrowed my eyes even more. Who was this?
I didn't speak. I just continued to walk. If he wanted entertainment, he should've stuck his head up his ass and stayed there.
"So, you're the new number 3, eh?" He started again when he noticed my silence.
"No, I'm a pink Reindeer with green horns." I told him and was greeted by stunned silence. Hoping that he'd gone, I looked over my shoulder and met his wide smile.
"He's a funny one too!" He laughed, nudging the scantily-clad female beside him and she shot him an annoyed look he didn't seem to notice.
At least I wasn't the only one tired of this meeting. I had someone to feed back in my quarters.
"That was sarcasm, wasn't it?" He went on, unnecessarily excited. "I never really get the hang of it!"
"What do you want?" I asked again, facing forward. "Get on with it and leave me alone."
"Someone's in a bad mood," he drawled. "What, she isn't giving you any?" He chuckled.
I paused, brows furrowed, trying to understand his statement. I still couldn't understand. So I turned around and looked him in the eye.
"What isn't she giving me?" I asked, cocking my head to the side. "Explain."
He was full out laughing now. "You're joking." He said, waving me away, but I just stared at him, waiting. He paused, his smile falling. "You don't...know?" He looked at the female beside him but she just rolled her eyes and bent her wide hip to the side. He shook his head. "You're still a kid after all. I wouldn't expect you to understand the human slang. Never mind."
Irritated now, I turned back around and kept walking. "If you're done, then you should excuse me."
Two ridiculously large, perfectly round globes bounced in my face, blocking my way. It took some time before I realized that they were attached to a tall frame.
My eyes widened. What the-? I jumped backwards, glaring at the female too perfect to be real.
She was watching me impassively, her hand resting on her wide hip. She'd just stuck her boobs in my face.
"You aren't a very patient one, are you?" The male laughed as he walked to stand in front of me. "At least, tell me your name, little one."
Little one? I gritted my teeth. These people were really annoying. "What would that accomplish?"
"If you tell me your name, I'll tell you mine." He shrugged, looking me up and down.
I watched him for some time before I decided to play along and get this meeting over with.
"I am Aerwyn." I said, looking into his multicolored eyes. I found their changing colors a little disconcerting.
"Aerwyn, eh?" His smile was leering. "At least that's better than 'Rutlis.'"
I didn't speak. I just waited for him to introduce himself and leave me alone.
"I am Uwan, 6th most powerful of the Imperial gods, Painter of All Nature." He peeled the band away from his head, and there, on his forehead, was his Rank, the silver disc embedded into his skull, with the number six boldly carved in. "And this is my Priest," he nodded to Curvy Boobs. "Zeta. I Painted her myself, you know." He winked at me.
Well, that explained a lot of things. "Nice to meet you, Uwan, 6th Lord, Zeta, his Priest. Now you can leave me alone." I said, increasing my pace.
He laughed, and I realized he'd stopped following me. "It was nice chatting with you, Aerwyn, the boy with the voice of a man! Maybe I'll Paint you someday. Who knows?!"
I rolled my eyes and ignored him. I hope not.

AERWYN: PRESENTLY.
Convenience. That was what these mortals had had in mind when they'd built this restaurant opposite my Temple. Too many people came to my Temples, in every area of the world, with one petition or the other, so much so that they had to wait in line. It was only fitting that they built a relaxation center until they could all be attended to.
As an Imperial god, I had a Temple in every nation on the five continents. There used to be seven, yes. But it was recorded that during the first wave of gods that descended the earth, the Earth had broken under the force of their coming and merged two of the continents into one.
But building a Temple in the Africols had been my wisest move yet. Of course, every god, Imperial or not, fought to win space to settle here. This place was crawling with mortals ready to heap all their problems on a higher being, mortals eager to bow and worship greater forces, to willingly give their lives to us. What mentally balanced god would want to pass that up?
But today, the line of petitioners were greatly reduced to a mere two hundred. Yes, I'd counted. The gates were sealed shut, the bars ringed with chains. Inside the premises, bands of Shadows crawled around, weaving in and out of the buildings, standing around, walking. Hoping for me to arrive.
So, it had come to this. They'd sent the Shadows to my Temples. I was sure this wasn't the only one they'd locked down. It seemed like it wasn't going to be easy, hiding here in the mortal plane. And of course, they'd warned me about it. The Cadre really wanted to see my head on a platter. It was a good thing that I'd expected this.
The scent of roasted meat and soup distracted me enough to look away from the window. Lyra was staring at the food in front of her, her hands locked in her lap.
I looked at her, then at the food, then I looked at her again. "Why aren't you eating?" I waved at the plate in front of her.
"I was waiting for you to eat first." She looked at me with those unfamiliar brown eyes, out of that strange Face.
"I'm not hungry, Lyra. Go ahead and eat." I nodded a go ahead at her.
"Yes, Aerwyn-kïnto." She nodded and gripped the spoon. She scooped up a spoonful of soup and lifted it to her mouth. Soup trickled down her jaws, the corners of her mouth, her arms, and not one drop made it into her mouth.
This was the amusing part. I shouldn't have let her eat on her own but, jerk that I was, I needed entertainment, and she was it. Simply put, Lyra dribbled soup all over herself. Give her a blade and she would gut a person in one precise hit. Give her a spoon and she would dribble food on everything surrounding her save her mouth where the food was supposed to go.
"Enough, Lyra." I couldn't keep the laughter out of my voice. "That's enough."
"I'm sorry," she dropped the spoon and wiped her mouth with the back of her soup-stained hand.
"Scoot over," I told her, pushing the table forward to create space for her to draw her chair closer. The ensuing scraping of wood on tiled floor was a tad too loud for my ears. I looked around and as expected, a few eyes watched. Some even snickered. I glared at them until they looked away before I turned back to Lyra. "You should learn to hold a spoon, Lyra. I doubt it's as hard as you make it look."
"I'm sorry. It's slippery." She said, the brown eyes looking down at her lap.
I scooped up soup in the spoon and raised it to her mouth. "Open up." I said and she did as instructed. The spoon disappeared into her mouth and she licked the soup from it as I pulled it back out.
I would be a hypocrite if I said I didn't enjoy feeding Lyra. The exercise calmed me down and I enjoyed the wide-eyed, innocent look she gave me each time the spoon disappeared into her mouth.
Okay, pause. Was it just me, or did that sound perverted just now? I blinked. Move on, Aerwyn. I told myself.
"Look at that," voices rose around me. "That kid's feeding the girl!"
"How did a kid like that score that chick?" More loud musings from random people I haven't bothered to find in the crowded restaurant. "He's got to be, like, twelve, and I bet the chick's like, twenty..."
Twenty? Clenching my teeth, I dropped the spoon and folded my arms, leaning back in my chair. Yes, I was going to sulk. Besides, this wasn't going to aid me in my quest to blend into the crowd. I was drawing attention already.
"I'm done." I told her and her eyes lowered to the table and she nodded her head.
"Yes, Aerwyn-kïnto." She said, looking at the plate of soup as she spoke. "We shouldn't draw attention. I'm sorry."
I waved her apology away and turned back to the window. "It's okay." I was feeling rather irritated myself. Fine. I enjoyed feeding Lyra way more than I should. Not that I was going to tell her that. It already creeped me out. No need to add her to the number.
"Hey kid," again, two hungry looking boys sauntered towards our table. I clenched my hands into fists and Lyra tensed beside me. "You're new 'round here, ain't ya?"
I looked up at them, giving my best "get lost and die" look. "So?"
They seemed oblivious to my glare. Loudmouth went right on.
"So, you should introduce yourselves." The stupid loudmouth went on. "You did pretty good, scoring a chick like dat."
I looked at him for a full minute, then scanned the restaurant. Heads were turned our way, curious eyes watching. Dang. I should have gotten one of those couples' booths. Too late now.
"I'm Dyer," I said and poked a thumb at Lyra. "And that's my clumsy sister, Eska."
"I knew she wasn't no girlfriend!" The boy crowed and the eyes watching blinked at the news. "Your sis, you say?" The eyes moved away and went back to their original businesses.
"Yeah. Now you can get lost." I wasn't going to play nice and warm and draw any more attention to us. The quicker this conversation ended, the better for me.
"Dat ain't cool na, brawdah." He went on and pulled a chair from the nearby table and sat. His friend stood behind him and I didn't like the way he looked at Lyra. "I'm Nduka, and dat punk behind me's Rumè. Nice to meet ya."
Nigerians. I narrowed my eyes. Not pureblooded Nigerians though, half castes, if their accents and skin color was any proof. The sheer fairness of it contrasted the original ebony of the Nigerians. Not that they were a lot of pureblooded Nigerians around anymore. It was recorded that before, way before, the first wave of gods that descended to the Earth, from wherever it is we came from, Nigeria split and the different ethnic groups went to settle elsewhere. It was also recorded that the Nigerians were stubborn bastards and almost half of them hung around the land that they used to call Nigeria, mixing together with other nations that made up the Africols.
I would agree that they were stubborn bastards, because it was the year 4014, approximately one thousand, nine hundred and ninety-six years since the split, and they were still around here in abundance.
Stubborn bastards, especially these ones, weren't what I needed right now.
"I don't want to talk with you," I told him coldly. "Get. Lost."
"I ain't gonna talk to you neither," he waved me away, turning to face Lyra. "I wanna talk wit ya hot sister here."
"Eska? Do you want to talk with him?" I asked Lyra, looking straight at Nduka, nuisance personified.
"No, Aer...Dyer." She answered and I could feel her shake her head.
"Problem solved." I pointed a finger at him. "Now, move on."
He ignored me, still looking at Lyra. "You looked like you needed help. I could feed you." He offered and I stiffened, my breath catching in my throat.
My cup of patience, already full, was running down the sides. Who was this mere mortal who dared to make mockery of such a sacrosanct act? I am Aerwyn, and I am a jealous, rather petty god. And I do not share play mates well, if at all. Feeding Lyra was my duty and mine alone, and in this, my jealousy is justified.
"You should listen to Aerwyn-kïnto," Lyra simply said. "And move on."
Nduka's brows furrowed. "Aerwyn...who? Tot his name was Dyer?"
I stood to my feet. "I should go and find out why the gates are closed," I pointed at my Temple across the street. "Wait here, Eska." I looked her in the eye and she nodded in understanding.
"Of course, Dyer." Her temporary brown eyes darted from me to them, to the Temple. Her fingers curved in on themselves, a telltale sign of her unease at having to address me like a commoner.
"Wait for me." I said and turned to look at the boys again. "I will not be responsible for whatever injuries you procure in her company." I told them and turned to leave. "And whatever you do, don't touch her."

And we have reached the end of the first Unfinished Draft of L.O.A.T.B! Yes, I stopped the draft to work on the prequels which I hope to publish soon. However, I am grateful for the support I've received during the sprint that was this endeavor.
Thank you to Sage1000 and Hardethaewoh for your support and every other person who gave this draft a chance. You're a nice community!
Thank you!
••••••
LYRA: PRESENTLY.
The Realic Sequence had crashed under the force of my fatigued brain, my mind unable to keep powering it to work.
I watched, in Technicolor, as Lord Aerwyn crossed the distance from our table to the door, and was out on the street in a matter of seconds. Might have taken a total of thirty-five to forty seconds. I couldn't be sure, since the Realic Sequence wasn't available to aid me in arranging things; words, thoughts, my sense of time...
Have should Lord Aerwyn told was dysfunctional that I. I blinked at the jumbled thought, trying to hang on to the Physical plane. Dissolving into my mind's Eye now would aid nothing. Besides, going into my mind's Eye without the Realic Sequence as backbone would only cause more harm than I could already handle. I would just have to make do.
"So, Esy," the boy called Nduka paused, staring at me. "I can call you Esy, right?"
I narrowed my eyes at him. It was a struggle to complete a full thought process and even worse when I tried to translate it into spoken words.
"Eska is just fine." I let the words roll off my tongue, grateful that they came out in the correct order. What was Lord Aerwyn planning to do? The Temple was crawling with Shadows. He should have taken me along.
He spoke and his words were lost under the sudden wave of chaotic thoughts that crashed through my scattered mind.
I blinked, almost having to pull into my mind's Eye completely now, to manually begin clearing the clog of scattered thoughts and create space for other activity. Like tolerating the boys in front of me.
This time, my speech was almost slurred. "What was that?"
"I said, whatever tickles your peach, babe." He repeated with a smug smirk pulling the left corner of his mouth up. "You sure you're not hungry no more?"
I looked down at the plate of soup. My body still demanded nutrients, but I would not dare let this mere mortal feed me. I liked it only when Lord Aerwyn fed me.
"Talking...to...me..." I paused my scattered speech, put them in order with even greater difficulty, and started again. "Why are you talking to me? Your friend is tired already." Slow and steady, so I wouldn't mix them up.
Nduka turned to the other boy behind him. "Him?" He jerked a thumb at the boy. "Nah, Rume's just a quiet one. Even he can't ignore a pretty girl like you, eh, Rue?"
The silent boy, Rume, pulled a chair closer and sat, still peering at me. "Have we met before?"
His voice was familiar, like a distant memory trying to claw out of the black, shattered abyss that was my mind. But it couldn't quite make it out. Not many things did. Make it out of my mind.
"Whoa! Smooth pickup line there, brawdah!" Nduka clapped his friend on the back. Rume was smiling widely at me.
"No, we haven't." I told him after a long pause, time I used to arrange my thoughts and compose them into words. "You must mistake me with someone else."
"Huh," he huffed, still looking at me. "I swear, you look so familiar."
I stilled and ran my gaze slowly over him. "Really?" I spoke, this word coming easily out of my mouth. Probably because of my sudden alertness.
"Really." He nodded, scratching his jaw.
"You must have me mistaken for someone else." I told him again, carefully storing his appearance away. He might be a threat I'd have to exterminate in the future.
"Eh, you're right." He waved the subject away but I did not pull him off my List of Threats To Lord Aerwyn's Safety. He was still a potential threat. One I wouldn't hesitate to snuff out. "We can get to know each other now, eh?"
I got to my feet, pushing the chair back as I stood.
"Hey, sit with us a while longer," Nduka got up with me. I did not like his enthusiasm, I did not like him at all. "We don't bite." His cocky smirk was back.
"Goodbye." I said, picking the bag of stolen bounty up with me.
"Didn't your brawdah say to wait for him here?" Nduka was relentless. He was beginning to make me suspicious. And frankly, he was making me develop a phobia for Nigeria-rooted people.
"Well, I don't have to listen to my brother all the time, do I?" I said, guilt wracking me as I said the words. Every syllable was taking more and more of my strength. I turned and headed for the door.
"Hey, at least, let us walk you to the door-" He moved and grabbed my hand in a tight grip.
White noise filled my ears and my vision washed from Technicolor to black and white and grey.

I ve almost. Given up on u,nice writeup

Pls update madam