Tales of demons and gods

In this one, I go into some parts of the MC's origin and mindset. It's not comprehensive but gives you an idea of what to expect. I also set a general tone for the story in this one by hinting at the MC's motivations and goals. The setup right now I made of the 'big bad' of the story isn't really to my liking but I've left it vague enough to work on it later.

Enjoy and share and comment and support. If I don't have support, I'll fall apart like a soggy cake and I won't have the motivation to write. :'(

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{MC POV}

After getting out of the damn mines, I decided to spend some time in Valyria posing as a merchant. The work was easy since the experience I have working as a merchant is probably far more than all the merchants in the Empire combined. Maybe not. But I made my point.

I wandered the streets for a few days until I found a rich-looking guy and followed him around. Okay guy, well as okay as a slave owner who rapes and sleeps with kiddies for pleasure can be.

But then this is a fucked up medieval world, every next guy is the same. And if one isn't, it is not because he doesn't want to, he just lacks the means to exploit others.

Anyway, Allaren was the guy's name. Tall, well-built third son of a rich merchant taking care of a few inns along the port for his father. Has a lovely wife and daughter too. Though rarely interacts with them.

The next day, I became Allaren, and so began my days of lazy exploration. Going around Valyria and its different entertainment houses, making new 'friends', listening to the sailors' and travelers' stories.

After six decades, Allaren died leaving no heir except his daughter. I kept going to different dragonlord families as a servant every couple of decades just to raid their libraries and to taste how the Valyrian women dragon riders taste. Fiery is all I'll say.

A couple of centuries later, Raven the apprentice to a famous architect in Valyria was born.

I somehow met the Valyrian equivalent of Leonardo Da Vinci one day while going to listen to stories of some sailor at a tavern. At a corner of the street, I heard stone or marble being hammered so I just went to check it out of curiosity.

Imagine my surprise at this guy who calls himself, Vahael of the House Raheneos chiseling a beautiful, almost alive sculpture of a woman. It was almost magic but wasn't Id know if it was magic.

He was of minor nobility and the fourth son at that. So he ended up pursuing arts and boy did he pursue it. He was proficient in sculpting, painting, architecture, and engineering. I immediately took him as a master and started an apprenticeship.

It was a fun time of learning. Though I also taught him some of the architecture that I could remember. We were quite popular in Valyria too. Although we didn't get much work within the freehold, we did work on some outposts around Essos and Westeros.

Vahael and I also designed the famous Dragonstone castle in Westeros. Well, Vahael did most of it, I just gave random inputs like, "It'd be cool to make this look like a dragon, that a wyvern, that pillar should be a demon."

During our time in Dragonstone, I heard a rumor among the local Westerosi lords about a group of assassins who call themselves faceless men. Braavos had just been revealed to the world so it was the talk of the town.

But as much as the world was excited, I had a strange feeling well up inside me. So, I ended my apprenticeship and headed for the Titan's city.

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"I told that bastard not to make it a religion! What faceless god? What bullshit is this?!" I couldn't help but curse after breaking the doors. I ended up creating the faceless men after all.

I couldn't blame the kid Taelar though, the cult seems to have evolved on its own. It is to be expected. What I didn't expect was that these brats were planning to cause the doom of Valyria.

A plan for revenge spanning centuries, I've got to give some respect to that kid Taelar. He laid out a plan and waited patiently, biding his time and raising his forces. Well, it'd be fun to see if he succeeds even if he isn't alive to see it.

Although I'm starting to wonder, how come my disciples more often than not create massive destructions? Only a few of them did some constructive work and even those acts involved avoiding destruction. I can only facepalm at my choice of disciples.

Now that I am already here, I should check the temple he created at least.

So, I explored the House of Black and White. It was quite creepy but interesting. All those faces looking at you is definitely an uncomfortable feeling though.

At the deepest part of the temple, there stood a statue, which I'm assuming is me. And under it was a face, Taelor. Ugh, one steals my blood, and another puts his face beneath my statue. Can't any of these mofos die normally?

Do I feel sad? Yes, I think. I have seen so many deaths of people close to me that now I'm already desensitized. That doesn't mean I don't feel anything but just that those feelings long stopped affecting me.

I mourn their losses, keep them in my mind and move on.

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"A man shouldn't be here." I heard. Oh, I grieved too hard to take notice of the high priest? Whatever they decide to call themselves.

Looking back there was an old man, in his real face. I should be able to tell, I taught them that after all. "And? What of it?" I asked.

He looked at me with scrutinizing eyes and then looked at the face beneath the statue for a few seconds. "A man is owed a story." The old man flicked something at me after speaking.

I caught the thing in my hands, and looking at it, a smile appeared on my face. He kept the coin I flicked at him before leaving as an heirloom it seems. "What story would that be?" I asked as I caressed the coin gently.

The old man knelt down, bowed, and spoke, "The story of the faceless god."

Taelar was always interested in my origins. Although I had told him of my adventures, he still wanted to know how an immortal being like me came to be. I had always avoided it by saying 'maybe someday'.

I looked back at the face, no wonder the bastard even preserved the ears. He wants to hear the story even in his afterlife. I almost feel guilty now. Such dedication for a story I'd expect from none but myself.

"So it seems. There is a story but it's not of some faceless god." I started.

"In the dawn of this world, when all the lands were one, there was only one continent, just one Planetos. Life had just begun to sprout and all kinds of wonders were born during that era." The old man continued to kneel but paid close attention.

"As life flourished, beings of power emerged, they had immense knowledge and magic at birth. And they called themselves Gods. They explored their powers, learned to wield their magic, and lived peacefully."

"But unbeknownst to them, one very different from them had appeared. One of a different world. He too was born with knowledge, just not of this world.

He had lived another life in another place, died, and was reborn here. But unlike the others who called themselves gods, he didn't have his own magic. He called himself human. But unlike the human he was before, he knew he was different, he was immortal."

"So he decided to learn. You see, the other gods had great power but had to have their own aspects, light, fire, water, plants, shadows, death, life, rocks, and soil, there were countless magics and countless gods.

But the human didn't have his aspect or magic so he could learn from them all. And so he did. Years passed like flowing rivers. After millions of years, the Gods had become immensely powerful. Even the human had his own magic.

His wasn't strong magic, but he made up for that by using magic in weird ways. He created words of magic and called them runes and bestowed magic upon things without magic. He combined cold and water magic and made ice.

Even the gods learned a lot from him. They reveled in learning and wielding magic while exploring the world and the new life that was constantly being born. But,,,"

I could still see it clearly as if it was happening right in front of me. The destruction, the horrors that were unleashed.

I continued, "The fun and liveliness ended abruptly when the world was invaded by dark forces. It rained fire that day as demonic beings fell from the sky, destroying everything in their path. Their magic corrupting everything. The continent broke into pieces."

"The gods were powerful but so were those dark beings. Their sheer power had sent the continents drifting. The war was short and quickly resulted in a stalemate with neither side having an upper hand.

Having no idea what to do, the gods went to the one guy who always thought up new things with them, the human. The human had already made a plan.

Just like their magic, those gods who could combine would combine together and become more powerful to push back the invaders out of the world. And the human would use the collective magic of all the gods to seal the world itself from the dark forces.

The gods agreed and so began the second round of war. With much difficulty, the gods sent away the dark beings and sealed the world."

"Having combined and spent a lot of magic, the gods themselves had become vulnerable, so the human suggested the gods rest in slumber until they could slowly recover back.

The human was always weak and didn't have magic at birth, he had learned it later. So he wasn't affected. Knowing that some of the dark beings and their corruption still remained in the lands, the gods appointed the human the protector of Planetos.

He would find and kill the dark beings and seal them if he couldn't. He would wait for the gods to awaken once more and fight against the evils lurking beyond the seals of the world."

I finished my story and kept my silence as I looked at the face and ears in front of me. Is the bastard cheering for me from the great beyond, I wonder.

I turned back to look at the old man behind me. He had an astonished face and looked like he had eaten something too big and now he couldn't swallow it even though he desperately wanted to.

Then, he grabbed his own tongue and cut it off. Only then did his face have some signs of relief while he was still panting heavily.

"Heh, my story was so amazing you are speechless huh." I teased the old man as I flicked a little healing energy to his tongue.

He looked at me gratefully. "Don't mention it. It happened because my story had more than you should know anyway. Gods are magic you see, the magic itself. So, if they feel threatened the magic in the air attacks you. You just needed to pay the price to ward off that magic."

He looked confused.

"Don't ask or think of what you shouldn't know kid. Why the gods feel threatened doesn't concern you. They did give me the protector job for a reason after all." I said as I teleported outside after glancing at the face one last time.