The Divine Septet

"Which one of you yahoo's woke up the sleeping ones?" Velemir demanded as he looked around at the other deities.

The Divine Septet had gathered, their ethereal forms hovering in what seemed like an eternal twilight, a place beyond the bounds of Velum. They were an eclectic assembly, each representing vast powers and domains, yet they shared a look of apprehension at Velemir's accusatory question.

Algris, deity of Knowledge and Wisdom, stroked his long, wispy beard, his thoughtful gaze piercing through the semi-darkness. "It was not I," he said, his voice echoing like the rustling of ancient pages. "Though I am keen on the pursuit of knowledge, I do not rouse forces that are best left undisturbed."

Tryst, the goddess of Nature and Harvest, shook her head, her voice like the gentle rustle of leaves. "The Sleeping Ones have always been creatures of natural balance. Why have they been disturbed now, I wonder?"

Sylphie, resembling a muse with her delicate features and warm presence, gave a hesitant frown. "Love and beauty are my realms. I have no desire to disturb those who rest," she offered.

The other deities, Morghen, god of War and Valor; Eldaer, deity of Life and Healing; and Haroun, god of Trade, Wealth, and Prosperity each echoed the disclaimers of their compatriots. They had not summoned the ancient beings known as the Sleeping Ones, understanding the potential chaos their interference in mortal affairs could unleash.

All eyes turned to Velemir, the god of Craftsmanship and Artistry, known for working through his followers in the mortal world, particularly through the gifted and industrious Gideon.

"I too have not stirred the Sleeping Ones," Velemir said, a ripple of frustration crossing his sculpted features. "But something has roused them from their silent vigil—something that reeks of ancient magic and forgotten pacts."

He pondered for a moment before speaking again. "One of my chosen, the Master Craftsman, has encountered forces beyond his understanding. Could it be his actions, however unintentional, have echoed into the depths where the Sleeping Ones lie?"

"It is possible," murmured Algris, ever the scholar. "The deeds of mortals often have unintended consequences. The fabric of destiny is woven tightly, and a single thread pulled out of place could unravel the whole."

The Septet remained silent, the implication of their discourse hanging heavily in the space between them. If Gideon's growing power and connection with ancient beings had indeed woken the Sleeping Ones, the balance of Velum could be in jeopardy.

"Well, it seems that you many of you have taken an interest in the new champion," Eldaer spoke with a tone as soothing as a healer's balm. "Even if the young Master Craftsman is under Velemir's protection, it has become clear that he is not alone."

"The boy shows promise, and in the area that I am most interested in seeing flourish!" Algris laughed, but then raised an eyebrow to Sylphie. "You have clearly taken the greatest interests of all. Why give him such a powerful skill so early? I nearly thought he was going to have his way with that poor Librarian!"

Sylphie's cheeks flushed with a soft rose hue, a rare sight on the face of a deity. "My gifts are always given with care," she defended herself with a hint of indignity. "The boy's heart is in the right place, and his intentions are pure. The power I granted him should, ideally, ease his path, not complicate it."

A collective sigh resonated among the gathered deities, acknowledging the delicate situation that had unexpectedly arisen from their blessings on the young prince.

"Let us each be more cautious of how our domains intersect with the mortal realm," suggested Morghen. His brow was furrowed, not with anger but with determination. "We should not act separately but in concert, ensuring none of us tip the balance too drastically."

Haroun rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Agreed. Our young Master Craftsman should not become a plaything of the gods. We must guide him, not control him. After all, it is his story to craft and the more power we inject into the world, the greater the dangers will become for him."

The Septet nodded in agreement, each deity recognizing the gravity of their influence on the mortal plane. Their gifts, while meant to aid, increased the power of the Sleeping ones, giving them more influence. 

"Thankfully, only two have stirred so far, but the other will not stay asleep long. The fact that Morgana awoke first could be problematic, but our Champions are slowly making their way, or at least trying to," Algris said with a tone heavy with concern. 

Velemir, his eyes reflecting the flicker of forges and the glow of creation, spoke with a voice that resonated like hammered metal. "Gideon, my chosen, he has shown great potential. But with the Sleeping Ones now in play, his path is going to become dangerous. He is still only in the body of a child, and even with the help of the other, their path is going to be filled with troubling times."

" The boy can age at any time now that he has taken my champion under his wing," Tryst said with an only slightly annoyed look on her face that made Morghen laugh out loud.

"I had a half of a mind to bless that boy when he put that elf of yours on the ground!" He laughed, completing the annoyed look on Tryst's face. "But perhaps it's for the best that he learns restraint before we grant him any more power."

The Divine Septet continued to debate the situation, each deity bringing forth their perspective on how best to manage the delicate balance between divine intervention and mortal free will. The fate of their chosen champions, the outcomes of wars, and the roles the gods themselves would play remained hanging in the balance, precarious and potent.

As the council of gods adjourned, there was a silent accord—a tacit agreement to watch and wait but not influence too heavily. The future was uncertain, the threads of fate more tangled than ever, and at the heart of it all was a prince-cum-craftsman whose very existence seemed poised to change the world. 

Back in his chamber, Gideon was unaware of the divine machinations surrounding him. For now, he had strategies to ponder, alliances to forge, and an impending war to prepare for. The gods may watch from their lofty abode, but it was he who would face the realities of Velum's harsh and beautiful world, armed with his wits, his hammer, and a burning determination to shape his own destiny.