T'was a long time ago – longer now, than it seems – in a place that, perhaps, you've seen in your dreams. For the story you're about to be told, took place in a tiny world of old. Now, you've probably wondered why I vanished from that place so suddenly. If you haven't, I'd say it's time you begun.
"Koa does not simply erase memories, my scorned siblings. It produces its own form of insanity. The minds of the afflicted will attempt to create memories where none exist." –Unknown
In the aftermath of Arania's defeat and the sudden disappearance of Skadi from the pantheon, Revaliir was thrown into a state of disarray. Especially on the western continent, there were fears that chaos was overtaking the conclave ranks. This, as you can imagine, was not too surprising. After all, there had been more than a few falls in recent years and even a deity that most everyone had somehow managed to forget.
The Nameless One was a title on many people's lips following the destruction of that infernal, spider golem. Some of the more devout citizens quietly thought that the land had been cursed by this figure of myth, even if they had no proof. In fact, no one could even remember the deity's face, and the going rumor was that The Nameless One, having been a deity of keys and secrets, had used their powers to erase their very existence. No one could really fathom why they did that, though. Naught but a select few could even remember that the deity was actually a she, nor could they recall her titles, her name, what she looked like or even where her temple had been. Everything about her had been erased from the history books too, so all the "facts" that came from those who could still remember had no evidence to support them.
The rumors about this figure went on for several weeks after Arania was vanquished, but then, like most things surrounding The Nameless One, they simply vanished without a trace. No one even remembered talking about the lost deity, as if a foul mist had flown over their heads and stole their memories once more. Such was the price of a deal: a deal that no one but the tree was meant to know of.
That was 2 months before the murders in Canelux started happening. By then, I, the mythical being who had stirred so much controversy, had returned to the flock of sheep that were Revaliir's mortals – in a sense, at least. This time, I had come as something different in both job and nature: a revenant tourist instead of a human spy. Before I get into that, however, it's best I finally explain why I left in the first place.
I had fled Revaliir the first time because my job of spy there had been concluded. I had fulfilled my quota of knowledge, and so there was no reason for me to remain except to wrap up some personal issues. I wanted to save my husband and daughter from their imprisonment before the defense mechanisms around them became active, but I was, sadly, disallowed. My mother recalled me immediately, and sent Skadi on the mission in my place.
The Prince of Madness did succeed, but it took her so long that we eventually had to send Ellie after her to remind her why she was in Revaliir to begin with. Still, as matters stood after the incident, there was little reason to complain or return. There were no more missions for me in any world, as seemed to be the case after big hauls like Revaliir, so I was free to do as I pleased.
Tourism was what I chose, though with a twist. I knew of many spells that allowed me to visit a world and experience it without physically putting myself in any real danger, and I had learned of such a spell while reigning as a deity in Revaliir. I used this forgotten art to infiltrate that world once more, but this time for my own amusement. I did not, you see, come with the intention of murdering anyone.
Unfortunately, that intention meant little when confronted with reality. After the first week of my vacation, it came to my attention that there were some unintended side-effects of Koa's activation. People did forget, as intended, but they were also creating their own memories to fill the void. Some cults were forming in the background on the basis of these imaginings, their members worshipping deities that didn't and had never existed in Revaliir.
Normally, this wouldn't be our concern. We were outsiders to a fault, so we chose a policy of non-intervention in most things. But some of these cults started growing closer to the truth than we appreciated. There were failed incursions into the multiverse, and some of the survivors lived long enough to tell of their beliefs. Somehow, these memories they were creating had a kernel of truth in them, enough for orders to be handed down.
That was when the murders started. I began tracking down the cultist members with calculated violence, covering my tracks using my eons' worth of experience in stealth. Not all the deaths were due to my intervention, but the murders I did commit were done in various ways. Poison, decapitation, blood loss, cardiac arrest: anything went so long as there was no common thread between the fools.
Alas, whilst I was thinning the herd, the Cult of the Mirror – the rather unoriginal group that I hunted – were doing their own killings. It was part of an initiation, I assume, because the murders they committed were much sloppier than anything I would have done. Their cut marks were unsteady, obviously done by a novice; and their ruses were easy enough to see through. They even left behind evidence of their organization with each kill, so it didn't take very long for a certain deity of light to find his way to a big fish within the group. Thus the great Eljior VII, Baron of the Egjoran Kingdom, found himself unknowingly entertaining a member of the conclave on the night of his grand masquerade.
The great event that drew old friends together was held in the evening. Naota and I both arrived separately and early on in the proceedings; so early, in fact, that the dancing hadn't even begun. We were also disguised, but that was where the similarities ended. You see, Naota was using magic to hide himself, whereas I opted for an almost completely, non-magical disguise.
Before the party had even begun, I acquired a large stock of makeup. Using the assorted dyes, powders and other cosmetics, I completely transformed my appearance into that of a human, party-goer. My skin was darkened to an olive tan, and my hair dyed purest black. Even the true color of my eyes was hidden, thanks to the green lenses implanted in the purple, fox mask I wore: for which I dyed the fur on my ears purple.
I walked into that ballroom with perfume hiding my scent and an ornate dress adorning my form. My tail was hidden beneath the satin fabric of purple and blue hues, and I played off my ears as being part of my mask. I even had some fake, human ears from some costumes I had found, so there wouldn't be any questions about that oddity of mine. In fact, the only thing magically hidden about me was the pair of wings on my back, but those were easily justified on the basis of tailoring costs should anyone ask about why I hid them. In the end, no one would be capable of recognizing me with or without magic as I stepped across the floor with confidence.
Oddly enough, the guards had let me in without a fuss, the same as they had let Naota in despite the fact that he was hiding his identity. Clearly, the baron valued ceremony and appearance over his safety tonight, since he seemed unwilling to relegate his guests to a body search. My first instinct upon upon realizing this was to take advantage of it. There was a chandelier over the baron's head, after all. All it would take to end him was a quick, ranged strike on the supporting chains. And yet I did not do that. Instead, I calmed my bloodlust upon noticing a familiar vampire hunter leaning against the far wall.
Naota may have concealed most of his features, but I had kept an eye on him since my departure from Revaliir. I knew of his white markings, the empty vial he almost always wore around his neck, and his liking of black tourmaline. All of those details, combined with the fact that I could still see through clothing, made the young deity easy to pick out from the crowd: especially since he stuck out like a sore thumb for trying to be a wallflower at a masquerade.
"It's rather rude to enter a party and then not mingle with the guests," I said with a voice completely alien to my own whilst approaching the wine haired youth. He would not recognize me from physical appearance: that much was certain. However, it never hurt to be extra cautious, so I also hid from a voice he might recall during our interactions. "Also suspicious that someone so clearly desirable by the fairer sex would go into a party that demands dancing only to relegate himself to being a wallflower." The 'fairer sex' comment was in regard to the lewd remarks I had overheard from some of the women on the way over to Naota. I did not share their fascination with his "manhood," but I did feel like the godling could use some teasing. He was too stiff for his own good; not that that mattered much to me when offered my delicately gloved hand to him. "If you're brave enough to enter the ballroom, surely you're courageous enough to offer a lady a dance?"
