Whispers of the First Act

'He is terrifying.'

'When I came to, I found myself kneeling before him, unable to move a single muscle in my body. For as long as he wished, I would remain under his control entirely, and this was an absolute, unchangeable rule.'

'If that were not humbling enough, I saw him demand of the Heavens an act of power the likes of which I, nor any Shafra, have ever seen. Him, a child, ordered the twelve to act ...and they did.'

'In the moments that followed, there was not a single thought in my mind that made any sense, no reason or logic, just fear. Total, complete fear.'

'Not as I saw the sky open, nor as I watched my home be destroyed, did I feel anything but fear. Even long after it was done, I had not recovered. In a matter of hours, using me as proof of his insurmountable might, the boy gathered all Shafra in the plains to my home.'

'When I did recover, he was already about to address them. The things that he would demand of us, without offering the chance of refusal, would change everything.'

'And challenge our fear of the Twelve-Head.'

|Volsung's Thoughts As He Is Brought To Stand Before the Shafra|

"The mountains of Al-Tarra have been home to the Diviners for centuries. I have watched them come and go- seen them experience more things than any person should in one lifetime. I've seen my people go beyond the bounds of insanity, and question even the Laws that govern the gods."

"Throughout my years as Dream Master, I have learnt every divination technique that has ever graced this world. There are no diviners left alive that I have not taught, and no secret they divine that I have not already seen. I alone see all things, hear all things- I alone know all."

"Yet, six years ago, questions arose that I could not answer. Strange signs in the world and in the skies. Heaven is uneasy, and I do not know why."

"My mountains have been enshrouded in the thickest fog I have seen in two hundred years. My divinations have been clouded in far too much mystery; the longer I spend in the dreamworld, the less I find what I seek. Something in the subconscious plane is pulling me toward it. A guiding hand of divinity, driving me to seek a true secret. It whispered to me, in a language I do not know yet understand completely."

"I shall delve once more into dreams, and I will not withdraw my spirit until I find this thing. If nothing more is written in these journals, then these shall be my last words- the words whispered to me by the divine voice, lying in dreams."

"...Heaven has heard the cries of the Twelve..."

Immersed in deep, thick fog, an old man sat alone in a room barely lit by numerous candles at an altar. He was dressed in loose robes, atop a simple mat. The room was small, and wooden, belonging to a small house near his home that was set aside for the very purpose he now used it for.

Divinations.

His eyes were entirely white and wide open, as was his mouth, revealing his lack of a few teeth.

Despite how conscious he seemed, his spirit was somewhere else entirely. He was asleep. Dreaming, only he was able to walk in dreams thanks to an exceptionally powerful spirit.

He was attempting to divine his life's greatest secret, something from Heaven itself; he was deciphering a godly message.

He did not know whether or not it was meant for him, or if attempting to divine it would result in his death. None of that mattered to him. After hundreds upon hundreds of years of having all the answers, discovering a secret was maddening.

It was a change he could not accept, and so he sought to uncover that secret.

More and more fog spilled into the room. If it was hard to see the outside before, it was now impossible. All of the tall mountains were experiencing such a thing; unending fog.

The elderly man coughed.

He coughed again, and wheezed.

There was another cough, dry, followed by labored breathing.

Yet another cough, but accompanied by the wet sound of blood being ejected from the man's mouth and nostrils.

He keeled and fell over on his side, wheezing still, but alive.

Very much alive, and smiling triumphantly.

"It is..." He took a breath, "...done."

"I ...must make a record..."

Barely taking time to catch his breath, the man forced himself back up with assiduous effort, spilling more blood from his nose and mouth onto the floor. His white eyes were narrowed and glazed. yet he fought his way back to his journal, took his brush dipped in ink, and continued writing.

"Heaven has heard the cries of the Twelve, and has taken notice of the arrival of 'the cursed one.' Heaven has decided to afford you twelve opportunities to rectify the issue, but has also dictated that these rules be repeated to you all."

"Listen well, lesser gods of the lowest world. Under Heaven, nothing happens that is not witnessed. Break these rules, and you disrespect Heaven's Edict. As punishment for this, you shall have your world destroyed, be stripped of your divinity and placed in a mortal world to live as weaklings until you die."

"These are the rules you must adhere to: 'The Cursed One' cannot be sent back to Nether-Earth, but you must not destroy his spirit entirely. If he is lost from the cycle of death and rebirth, you shall receive far worse punishment."

"You are allowed to alter any and all realities regarding the preservation of your world, however, you are forbidden from altering anything else. Attempt to strengthen your world otherwise, and you shall be punished accordingly."

"Lastly, if you are able to capture 'the cursed one,' you must bring him to Heaven's Door so that he may be returned to us. Refuse to do this, and you shall be killed outright."

The old man recorded these words with the utmost zeal and excitement. Though he knew not what these words meant, he did know that they were intended for the Twelve.

He had uncovered a secret of the gods!

It did not matter that he had no idea who this 'cursed one' was, nor that he seemed to be powerful enough to face gods singlehandedly. All this insane old man, whom had been alive for far too long, could care about was the fact that he had succeeded. His ego was inflated to epic proportions, and he was far more confident in his ability than he had ever been.

Until he wasn't.

"You, mortal."

This time, he froze. He was not walking in dreams, so what was it that he was hearing. He looked around, but could only see fog and the dim light of the waning candles.

He shrugged it off, thinking his mind was playing tricks on him.

"You dare ignore me? Your god?"

A strong arm picked him up by his neck and brought him into the air, higher than any normal man could ever have brought him. His head touched the ceiling of the house, and as he looked down he saw something that no mortal eyes had ever before seen.

Standing before him, was a god. The god Anubis, with his mighty frame and beastly face, staring into his eyes with a twisted benevolence that froze him completely.

"It was a mistake letting you live this long. Now that Heaven's Eye is upon us, I am afraid I cannot allow you to live after performing such a blasphemous act. Come with me to Nether-Earth. Now."

Anubis once again vanished into the fog, this time carrying the frail body of a very old man. As for the journal that the man left behind, it crumbled into dust that was blown away by the weakest of breezes, lost forever.

The candle flickered, and soon went out.

This was the end of the World's Greatest Diviner, because he dared to peer at secrets that did not concern him.

_________________

It did not take much convincing for the Shafra to recognize Gilgamesh's power. They saw the state of their Warrior-Lord, and instantly recognized him as someone they could not defeat. However, despite this, their passions did erupt. They would have banded together to fight him if Volsung himself hadn't assured them it would be suicide.

Gilgamesh addressed them as he would anyone: like they were ants at his feet. He had ordered the Shafra to gather in the giant crater that replaced Volsung's village, which was just one of many villages. He stood from on high and looked down at them.

The lightning had created a crater large enough for all of them to stand in. Two thousand Shafra, summoned like pets.

"House Dramaour shall become the foremost nation in this world. It will grow until it has consumed all nations and kings, then it shall snuff out the Twelve-Head. Finally, once it has taken its place as the ruler of this world, I will kill the twelve gods that govern it and set it free from Heaven forever."

This was the first time that anyone had heard such arrogance and pride. Even the members of the Shadowless Viper were stunned yet again, and Verra, who could just barely stand, felt her knees buckle. If Sangh and Wes were not holding her, she would have surely fallen to the floor.

Gilgamesh spoke these words like they were nothing, then continued.

"As you are this world's finest race of warriors, I shall take you with me to Dramaour City. Once there, you will be tasked with constructing homes for yourselves. I shall also begin your training, and see for myself just how capable you all are."

While he was speaking, the sky became stormy yet again. He looked up and saw the thunderclouds, and so he smiled.

Seeing no value in speaking anymore, Gilgamesh dismissed them and went on his way with Volsung right behind him.

As the monstrous man followed behind Gilgamesh, he heard him say something to him.

"Your family was spared. Your wife took your children fishing earlier."

Volsung paused and looked down at GIlgamesh as if he could not believe what he had heard.

"Signy and Sigmund are ...alive? Hljod as well?"

Gilgamesh nodded, never once looking back at Volsung.

"You can thank those gods of yours, if you wish. It is no fault of mine that they survived."

Volsung gasped. The warmth he had started to feel was drowned out by coldness yet again, but helplessness won out overall. No matter how much he now hated Gilgamesh, there was no point. At the very least, his wife and children had survived.

His dismal life had gotten a lot brighter. He felt better about the future now that he knew this.

"Wait for their return. I will give you two days to ready the Shafra, then we head out."

Verra was nearby, with her helpers, and she heard what Gilgamesh said. Him and Volsung were closer to the caravan now, with the Shafra behind them making their way out of the crater. They cursed under their breath over the fact that they had been lined up like slaves, but soon realized that they had, essentially, just been enslaved.

Yet, their great and respected Warrior-Lord had ordered them to stand down. Never before had a Shafra been ordered to stand down in the face of blatant, direct adversity. Not even when they had faced the Twelve-Head's forces.

It would take them a while to accept the situation.

Volsung left for the shoreline, to await his family, and Verra approached Gilgamesh with her aides' help.

"We can't leave that soon. We have to wait for the next shift change, or else we'll never get through the border without alerting Eusia to the Shafra's movement."

Gilgamesh shook his head and kept walking, "It does not matter, child. If I had known that this was what you were worrying about when we left home, I would have explained it to you then."

Verra was puzzled, but before she could ask him to explain, Gilgamesh told her what he meant.

"I have already brought Eusia under House Dramaour. Yehia is dead, and his daughter has been appointed to lead. They merely await my instruction to make this matter known."

Not caring to see Verra's shocked reaction, Gilgamesh returned to the carriage and sat down in a meditative position, sighing out of pure boredom.

Without something like reacquiring memories to take up his time, it became clear to him just how dull the world was.

Despite knowing that he could not break the seal on the last of his memories, he entered meditation and allowed his spirit to drift in his subconscious.

It was in that moment that he felt it. A stream of energy flowing throughout all the world, waiting for a spirit- or spirits- powerful enough to reach out and touch it.

Gilgamesh found this strange. It was as if something was being delivered to anyone in the world with a strong enough spirit to receive it.

Of course, his spirit was more than enough to touch this energy, and receive whatever it was that it brought with it.

In his mind, as he connected with that energy, he gasped audibly, then his fists clenched and his brows furrowed tightly in rage. As soon as his spirit touched it, he recognized this energy. Then, he heard a voice come from it, and he growled.

"Heaven has heard the cries of the Twelve, and has taken notice of the arrival of the cursed one."

It was the voice of Anu, the God of Heaven, Divine Ruler of his homeworld!