He Who Had Died
For hundreds of years, the Land of Alkio was peaceful and prosperous. The five kingdoms that held residency there were at peace, an easy and fruitful truce that their leaders long-since passed had started.
Until peace in the Land of Alkio was no longer an option.
One by one, the priests and priestesses of the different kingdoms of Alkio woke in the night, screams on their lips and their deities voices in their ears. They all told of the same dream, the same terror, the same vision. They'd all witnessed the same thing, the same prophecy--for it was surely a prophecy.
It had been a week since the dream, and none of them know that the other worshippers of those deities had also had the vision--knews traveled quickly, but not quick enough, it seemed.
Now, they're all mere hours away from seeing each other at the annual meetup of the priests and priestesses to report on the wellfare of their kingdoms. Will they let slip what has happened? Will they keep it their own secret to figure out?
Only one kingdom has scrolls that could potentially lead them to the answer. Will they find them before it's too late?
Will they find out who this 'he' is, and why the other gods are so terrified of him?
The Dream"He who had died has risen again."
A bright light in front of them, a silhoutte between them and the light. The silhoutte's head was tipped back soundlessly, stuck between something that looked like a scream or a laugh. The figures hands were wrapped around their own throat, before jerking forward and turning towards them.
"He who had died has risen again."
The figures eyes glowed an indescribable color, opening their mouth to reveal the same glowing hue. Soundlessly still, the silhoutte spoke to them, forming empty words that fell on deaf ears. Their gods voices grew only more urgent, louder in their ears, suffocating, deafening, so loud, loud, loud-
"HE WHO HAD DIED HAS RISEN AGAIN!"
And then they woke up.
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