Deus Ex Machina Prologue

Monster the Vamelfaer

Sells all the Shubi
Mors

The sun was at its zenith now, the last traces of dawn finally vanishing from the sky in wispy pink tendrils. All of Caeles was bathed in a soft, golden light, promising what many of the gods hoped would be another peaceful day. For Mors, however, that promise was already ruined.

The tall, dark figure stalked down the hallways of Caeles, eyes lowered, muttering under his breath. “Impossible woman. ‘Why can’t you spare them?’ she says. What do I look like, Krima? Should I be letting them off for good behavior? ‘Oh no sir, I see you rescued a cat stuck in a tree earlier this month. Five more months for you.’” He scoffed. “If Della could have it her way, she’d have every mortal made into no less than gods. And they think I’m the threat.” Mors was about to continue, but suddenly stopped in his tracks with a faint squeak on the tile floor. The God of Death stood still, feeling the sun’s warm rays beaming down on him, and yet he felt a chill of cold air run through him. He blinked.

In his vision, a pale, silver light lit up in front of him; faint at first, but then growing steadily brighter. A soul.

“How…?” he breathed.

Mors quickened his pace until he reached the end of the hallway, pausing for a moment outside the door there. Normally he wouldn’t come anywhere near here, but… He threw the door open.

The window was open, a soft breeze whispering through the curtains. The lavish furniture was exactly the same as he had remembered from the last time he had set foot in here, and yet that silver light still burned. Mors stepped around the bed, eyes drawn immediately to the floor. There it was. The soul was barely hanging on to his body, clinging to him by nothing more than a thread as it desperately moved toward the open window, longing to be free. His warm blood pooled on the floor beneath him like melted gold, with skin paler than the face of the moon, and the eyes of a man who had just witnessed the impossible. Mors stood over the body, his yellow eyes glowing faintly as he observed the scene, his face completely blank. “Sol…” He knelt down beside the dying god and dipped a finger into the blood on the floor before bringing it up to examine it curiously. “Apparently, not so immortal after all, hmm?” Mors glanced at Sol, but was not prepared for the anger he saw written on his face. It shouldn’t have been surprising; Mors always knew that Sol hated him. Most of the gods did. To be fair, he wasn’t particularly fond of them either.

The God of Death rose to his feet again and absently wiped off the blood on his hand on his pant leg. The soul was practically gone by now, shining like the stars most had already forgotten, connected to the God of the Sun by a tiny strand. “Look, I know you never liked me, Sol. And really, you don’t deserve any favors from me,” a large, copper scythe materialized in Mors’ hands, “But I’ll grant you just this one anyway.” He took a step back from the dying god, his eyes fixated on the cord that linked the soul to the corpse. “What is it the mortals like to say? Rest in peace?” The corner of his mouth twitched into a smile. “Funny, never thought I’d be saying that to you of all people.”

Mors swept the scythe across the cord with one quick movement. There was an earsplitting shriek as the soul was released from the god’s body and immediately shot out the window and out of sight, producing a concussive shockwave behind it. The air became cold as the sun above them slowly faded, as if a cloud had just moved in front of it, but hadn’t moved on. Within a few minutes, the sky was pitch black, illuminated only by the silver rays of the moon, casting its cold shadow over them. Mors looked up, able to admire the stars for the first time in a millennia. He stood there for a moment before looking down at the body again and placing his foot on Sol’s chest. He grasped the sword that protruded from his chest and yanked it from him. Mors examined the silver sword before holding it up in front of the moon; a perfect crescent.

“Now isn’t this an interesting turn of events…” he murmured.
 
Dilucos

The God of twilight was stunned. It had been about an hour since the sun had left the sky, and Mors had told the gods what Dilucos could already infer, Sol was dead, his own father was dead, and Mors had found one of his mother's swords stuck in his body, so was accusing her of the murder. Dilucos simply couldn't believe that his mother was responsible, she loved Sol too much to enact such an atrocity, he'd seen enough evidence of that over the millennia, but the others would never heed him, forgotten god that he was. He needed to warn his mother himself.

He found Luna in her chambers, not even bothering to knock before entering, his voice was panicked and filled with urgency. "Mother! Father is gone, murdered. Mors found him, what's worse, he'd been run through by one of yours swords. You stand accused of killing him, the gods are in outrage, they'll never believe our testimony. You must leave, Mother! Run, before they destroy the moon as well as the sun. I don't wish to lose both my parents." He said as he gripped Luna's shoulders, fear apparent in his eyes.
 
Luna
Luna looked up at the sky where the sun had once been. She knew what had happened. Sol was gone. The moon shone brightly, casting Caeles in a rich blue light. But it no longer held the crisp cool beauty it once did. Now it seemed harsh and cold; bitter even. With out the sun, even the stars seemed colder. Yet Luna maintained her composure. She kept her head high and her gaze firm. She needed to remain strong. The other gods would look to her now for guidance and support.

Dilucos came bursting into the room; breaking her train of thought. Luna turned to her son. His were eyes full of fear and his voice laced with panic.

"Mother! Father is gone, murdered. Mors found him, what's worse, he'd been run through by one of yours swords. You stand accused of killing him, the gods are in outrage, they'll never believe our testimony. You must leave, Mother! Run, before they destroy the moon as well as the sun. I don't wish to lose both my parents."

Something flashed across her solemn features when Dilucos mentioned her sword. She spun quickly from Dilucos's grasp and darted to her bed. Reaching underneath; she pulled out a long wooden case and undid the clasps. Inside the case was a long curved sword. It lay in the blue velvet lining as it should have been. But it's sister was not there. Luna stared at the empty spot where the second blade should have been for several moments, deep in thought. Then she rose; her other sword in hand and turned to Dilucos.

"I must leave quickly. Make sure that I am not followed." She placed a hand on his shoulder. "Be brave my son." With that, she strode out of her chambers and into the hall she glanced up and down before taking off in a run; disappearing into the dark.
 
Last edited:
Mors
Mors hadn't spent too much longer in Sol's chambers before moving off to inform the other gods of what happened, not even bothering to do anything about the body. That much was never his job, although a part of him wondered what exactly a funeral for a god would look like. The moment Mors stepped into the meeting chamber, most of the gods had already gathered, having probably already guess what had happened to Sol. To say that they were in an uproar was an understatement, but the moment the God of Death entered the room, the commotion stopped, all eyes turning to him.

"Mors. What have you done?"

Mors glanced down for a moment at the gold blood splattered on his clothes. Without a word, he tossed the sword he had pulled from Sol onto the floor, allowing its metallic song to ring through the air as it crashed to the tiles. "Someone stuck that sword into Sol's chest," he replied calmly, crossing his arms, "and I removed it."

There was a moment of silence before someone spoke up. "So he's really dead then."

"Entirely."

"How is that possible? Mortals have tried to kill gods hundreds of times before and never succeeded," one pointed out.

"Well clearly it wasn't a mortal this time," someone else said dryly. It was probably Logos, but Mors had stopped paying attention to the others when he noticed Medella's eyes on him. Normally her green eyes were soft and warm, but now, they were harsh and accusatory. Oh great. Not again...

"What I want to know," the Goddess of the Living started abruptly, cutting off any other conversation, "is whether you used that scythe of yours."

Mors held her gaze for a moment before looking away. "If you're asking whether I ferried his soul, then yes, I did."

"So you admit that you killed Sol," Medella finished.

Mors closed his eyes, trying to contain his frustration with the determined goddess. "We've been through this before, Della," he said tensely. "When I ferry a soul, it means they're already dead."

"If he were already dead then why-" "Enough of this," Ius cut in. "There will be time for your petty squabbles later."

Medella shot the other goddess a glare, but fell silent. Though the look she gave Mors made it clear that she was far from finished. "Mors," Ius continued, "did Sol say anything to you before he died?"

He shook his head.

"Then we have only the evidence that you've provided for us. That sword is Luna's," the Goddess of Justice concluded.

"She's not here," someone spoke up.

"Where's Dilucos?" someone else asked.
 
Dilucos

Dilucos stepped into the meeting chamber with a clear goal in mind, inform the gods that Luna had gone missing, but not give them any clues with which to try and follow her. As he made it to the center of the meeting chamber, Logos noticed his arrival.

"There you are, Dilucos. Where have you been?" The god asked in his usual calm and logical tone.

"As soon as the sun disappeared, I went to go and find my mother. We all understood what it meant and I wanted to make sure she was alright, but when I arrived in her chambers, she was nowhere to be seen and neither were her swords." He paused as he saw the sword that Mors had brought in. "Though I guess that answers one half of that mystery."

"A son wishing to mourn his father's loss with his mother is understandable." Krima defended Dilucos' actions as he expected. The goddess of mercy always was a sucker for a sob story.

"However, if Luna has fled Caeles, then the logical conclusion with the evidence provided, is that she's guilty of killing her own husband." Logos added "The only thing I don't understand is the motive. Why after all these centuries would she kill her own husband?"

"Does it matter?!" Vindicta burst in, rage in her eyes. "If she's gone, then we need to hunt her down and drag her back. She'll answer for this crime, one way or another."

Dilucos looked to Mors as the gods conversed, the last man to see his father alive. "Mors, how was he, at the end?"
 
Mors
Mors was caught off guard by the god's question. How was he? He was dead! Well, mostly. "He only had a few minutes left when I found him," he said. "So I released his soul so he wouldn't have to suffer through those last few minutes."

From the side, Medella scoffed and muttered something under her breath.

"We shouldn't jump to the conclusion that Luna killed her husband," Ius continued, attempting to soothe the other gods. "There's not enough evidence to know for sure."

"What, you think we should just let her go free?" Vindicta snarled. "When it was clearly her sword that killed him?"

"I think we should bring her back and get her side of the story," Ius shot back. "Until we've questioned Luna, we shouldn't pass any judgement."

Some of the other gods nodded in agreement. "I think we're neglecting to address another problem," Logos pointed out. "With Sol gone, and Luna missing, we have no one to lead us."

Mors raised an eyebrow at that. As one of the ancient gods, technically he had never fallen under Sol's juridiction in the first place; he was free to pass through any realms as he pleased. It had always made the other gods nervous, knowing that if he suddenly stopped deferring to Sol's rule there was nothing they could do to stop it. They did like their structure, didn't they?

"Mortal tradition would dictate that Dilucos would be next in line for the throne," Logos continued.

"We can discuss that at a later date," Ius said. "First, find Luna. If she's innocent, she will take her rightful place as ruler. If not, then we can decide who is best to lead us."

"But who's going to get Luna back? We can't just start sending gods down to the mortal realm. It would be chaos," someone spoke up.

"I'll go!" Krima volunteered. "I'll make sure no harm comes to her until we return."

"If you go, you'll just let Luna off free," Vindicta protested.

"Why don't we send Mors?" Medella suggested coolly.

Mors groaned. "You've got to be kidding me," he muttered.

"After all, he likes to spend time on earth, he knows his way around. And as far as I'm concerned, he has yet to come up with a sufficient reason why he didn't spare Sol," Medella continued. "Or have you all forgotten that he knows how to return a soul to its body? He could have saved Sol's life, yet he didn't."

"You know very well that it doesn't work that way," Mors argued, having a hard time keeping his anger under control. "Had I even wanted to return the soul to his body, I couldn't have. It was gone the moment I cut the thread."

"Are you saying you wouldn't have saved Sol even if you could?" Medella asked, shocked.

"I don't see how that's relevant," Mors snapped.
 
Dilucos
"Enough!" Dilucos yelled out, startling the other gods around him. It was rare for the god of twilight to speak so forcefully. "Medella, to ask Mors to go against the very force he rules is an act of hypocrisy, it would be like Mors asking you to create a stillborn on purpose, dead before its life could truly begin. Would you wish to go against your very domain?"

Logos nodded in agreement. "He makes a sound argument. Instead of trying to shift blame onto Mors, we need to focus on the prime suspect, Luna. If her testimony and our investigation proves her innocent, then we can shift our focus. Until then, Medella try to keep yourself under control."

The goddess of life threw a dirty look to both Logos and Dilucos, but held her tongue. Vindicta decided to speak next. "She brought up a good point, Mors is the most well versed in the layout of earth, he'd be able to find his way around, and if he could recruit the mortals to his cause, he might have the easiest time finding her."

"Are we sure that the mortals would wish to align themselves with the god of death?" Krima protested.

"My son, Harold, will, at the very least. He's made a name for himself as an assassin and bounty hunter by the name of Mr. V. He'll be useful in tracking Luna down." Vindicta proudly informed them.

"Of course your son turns into a hired killer." Ius commented.

"Regardless, the plan is sound." Dilucos interrupted, seeming to hold more authority then ever before. "Mors, go down to earth and find my mother. Use the mortals in any way you deem necessary, once you've brought her back, we'll hold a trial to determine her guilt. I'll assume temporary control of the throne, if Luna is innocent, I'll step down and if she's guilty, I'll remain there. We've no way of knowing how long the search for my mother will take, we need someone to take control in the meantime."

"Once again, I'm in agreement with Dilucos." Logos said. "Is there anyone who protests this plan?" He asked, looking at Mors as if he was anticipating a rebuttal.
 
Mors
Mors didn't respond for a few moments, irritated at being told what to do. He didn't see any of this as his responsibility; he rarely ever spent any amount of time in Caeles. Still... His eyes flicked to Medella. "Fine," he said curtly. "But if Luna dies on my watch, I'm not saving her."
 
Dilucos
The god of twilight gave a nod to the god of death. "That's fair, but do try to keep her alive long enough to get a confession. In the meantime, I'd like to prepare my father's body for a funeral. Fyurei, Silvis, could you both come with me? I'll need your help setting up the funeral pyre." Reigning over an entity as hot as the sun, Sol always said he'd want his body burned if he ever died, emulating what would happen to a body if it came too close to the sun itself.

The goddesses of fire and nature nodded to him and stood to leave, the rest of the gods in the meeting hall doing the same. Ius and Logos stopped Dilucos on his way out. "May your leadership be as wise as your father's, Dilucos. Should you need counsel on anything, do not hesitate to seek us out." Ius told him, with Logos giving a solemn nod. Dilucos returned it, he'd need their guidance to acclimate to his new position.

Turning around to face the meeting chamber, he saw Mors and Medella standing face to face. He was curious as to what they could be discussing, but let the matter be as he had more urgent matters to attend to.
 
Mors
The god and goddess stood there staring at each other for a moment, the tension in the air so potent they could practically taste it. Then, without another word, Mors turned to leave. Much to his chagrin, the goddess followed him. "What do you want from me, Medella?" he asked dryly.

The Goddess of the Living fell into step beside him. "I want to understand how it is you do what you do with no remorse. How can you not feel their pain when you end their lives?"

Mors shot her a look, but didn't reply. He wasn't really in the mood to continue the same debate they'd had for a millennia; it always came down to the same thing. She couldn't fathom the idea that he could destroy the very thing that she created. Medella stared at him for a moment, then sighed when she realized he had nothing to say. The two walked in silence until Mors finally spoke up. "I've tried to see things your way before, Della," he said. "If you remember correctly, that didn't turn out well for either of us. The simple fact is that death is death and life is life. The two don't combine very well."

"But they did combine," Medella insisted.

"Yes, into an abomination, as the others called it."

Medella shook her head. "If we just tried again; refined the process..."

"And what? What's the point?"

"And for once we might both be happy!"

Mors stopped in his tracks and looked at her. She was so desperate for there to be peace between them, that she was willing to sacrifice almost anything. But he wasn't. "You know as well as I do that that's never going to happen," he said.

Medella looked crushed. Mors turned away; he hated to see her like this. "Have you... Considered the other option?" she said softly behind him.

He paused. "I don't have time for this right now, Della."

They didn't speak again until they reached the Mirror, where Medella took his hand in hers, eyes meeting. "Just promise me you'll at least think about it," she said. Mors held her gaze as his form shimmered, changing into its original form: skeletal face, dark robes, black wings unfurling from his back. "I'll try," he replied eventually. With that, he pulled away from her and stepped toward the Mirror. "Though if you hadn't suggested that I go on this little trip, I would have been able to decide a lot sooner," he pointed out lightly.

Medella grinned at his reflection. "Sorry," she said.

"No you're not." Mors stepped into the Mirror, his body enveloped by its silvery surface. In a few seconds, he would find himself in the mortal world.
 
Back
Top