Prologue.

Paradise. One could not describe the High Realm any other way, but to say it was Paradise. Not because of it's enriched colorful, beauteous flowers and amazing fruitful trees in the meadows. And it was not due to it's lusty animals that roamed the suburbs. Neither would you say it was the enormous breath-taking impressive buildings and houses neatly arranged round the centered household of the Supreme.

It was paradise not because of the habitants of the land. The gods were all powerful rulers of different parts of the world — the gods of water, forest, death, life, happiness, luck, doom, disaster, healing, dream, sleep... And a few thousands more. But they would all be brought to nothing if it wasn't for their Paradise.

Deep beneath the Supreme household, pathways dark and sacred, lead to a temple. Under this threshold, laid a golden table. This table was known as the home of the High Spirits, beholding the very source of the magic of the gods. On top of it, revealed a powerful weapon that replenished the magic that is possessed of a god. On the very top of that golden table, was where life was born. The High Realm was Paradise not because of any other thing, but this mystifying weapon.

It can not be destroyed, nor stolen. Not until the very eerie day. The day that will forever be in history. The day where mankind tried, and succeeded over the gods. Thee gods were ashamed. Not for anything, but their foolishness.

"Till this very day," Balthazar, youngest brother of the Supreme said amongst the council of the elders. "The gods have failed to discover how such an atrocity was conceived!" He diffused, with a scorn on his patched eyes.

"My dear brother," The Supreme called. "We shall not go back to the past anymore."

They were seated round on golden seats, with the Supreme and his brother in the front, elevated before them. The Council of Elders contained twelve of all the thousands of gods, and were chosen by the Orb.

"Have we not had enough of your useless complains, Balthazar?" Frowned Divit, god of the oceans.

"It beats me as well, Vit." Amaranta added immediately, and a few others added in reply. Balthazar face raged with annoyance, and he was about to add a disdainful reply before the Supreme robbed him off of his words.

"Enough already! Balthazar is part of this Council and I forbid you speak a word of disrespect to him."

It was always rumored that the Orb had never chose Balthazar as he'd done with the rest of the Councils, rather, was chosen by his brother, Xerxes. The supreme had however, denied the claim countless of times, even though he knew it at the back of his mind that he was lying. "The Orb has never punished me for my act, which means there was a seat for my brother after all." He often told himself. The Orb chooses a new Supreme after a hundred moonlight, along with it's new councils. Xerxes and his councils had just been chosen only a few moonlights ago, before the catastrophic havoc had occurred.

"Forgive me, my Lord." Divit was the first to apologize, before the rest all did. The rest, being Divit himself, Amaranta, Balthazar, Ivo, Zotikos, Valeria, and Chantara. A conclusion had been agreed upon few moonlights ago, where they would pray to the Orb to choose a member from the Council, to descend to Mundus to restore balance. They'd lost five of them and the meeting was held to know who the Orb had sent to their doom this time.

A lot of mysterious events had been going on and it baffled the gods as they still found no explanation. The gods could not die, and yet, five of them had been lost with their lifeline hung out of the tree of life. But then, only moonlights ago they still believed the source of their magic could not be destroyed.

"The Orb has chosen again." The Supreme announced, lines of wrinkles stretching up his forehead.

Their hearts pounded, as fear gripped their souls. They knew they would have to be brave. At the last end to the left, Chantara was seated calmly. It was brainless to her why each of them had to descend to the homes of the greedy mankind to save them, even at the awareness that they'd caused the calamity. The purpose was senseless and unimportant to her. There had to be other smart ways to solve the issue at hand. But she would dare not speak. One must be wise at situations like that.

"Chantara, goddess of moon." Xerxes began to say, causing Chantara to blink hard at the expense of hearing her own name. "The goddess of water," he continued. "You have been chosen by the Orb to descend to Mundus, and as at this moment, the Councils of the Elders have heard the words bestowed by the Supreme. Best be wise of you to accept this quest." He said, with much authority in his tone. "Do you accept?"

The room was silent that Chantara feared the heavy beating in her chest could be heard down there at Mundus. Why did it had to be her? Why?.

"I accept."

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