The wind wasn’t blowing anymore, the result of the first serious loss. It used to carry the voices of lost souls, desperately telling their story to any of those who listened, but now there was no one to relay their message. With only three of their gods left, no one knew what to do. The people understood that, with time, gods would come and go, but no one ever believed they could be killed in battle. Yet, they all watched as their wind god was slaughtered on the battlefield. The dwindling number of survivors gathered themselves, looking in the direction of their leader, who was standing tall- despite all that had happened. With dark, brown hair and what were once bright, green eyes, he was remarkably handsome, even in the current state of his health. A large gash ran across his chest, his ribcage stopping the blade that had caused it from piercing his lungs. It was poorly wrapped in dirty bandages, it was all they had left. The man was very tall, easily able to pull apples off of trees with his teeth while everyone else struggled to even reach the same branch. He didn’t even need to speak for his people to gather beneath him, the respect they had for him held in the highest regards.

His voice was deep, powerful, and nearly impossible to ignore when he spoke. Their language was more sound and elegant than those of the elves’, however it was bound with powerful magic- you had to be born with the knowledge to be able to speak or understand it. Rarely anyone outside their species was ever born with that knowledge, a strong advantage to this species. Their leader began his speech. Not a speech to raise morale for the people. Neither a speech to ready them for another battle. And certainly not a speech to give them hope for survival. But rather a proposal.

“Since this war began, many have suffered. Far, far too many.” He spoke slowly, loudly, and solemnly, “when the others asked us for help, they had come with certainty in their eyes that we would win this battle for them. Yet…” He took a deep breath, trying to hold back tears in front of the crowd, “Yet we have failed them. Here we stand, battered and broken. Everything we believed to be fact, tossed aside into a pit of everlasting doubt.

“We are now faced with three choices. We go into hiding, no guarantee of survival, a newfound hatred from every soul who has experienced this war, and a life-lasting feeling of guilt. Or we could stand and fight until the very end. Our third option…” The man, their leader, for the first time since the impregnation of his partner years ago, hesitated. His people noticed, and began to sink with dread, their veins running cold, and some even began visibly shaking. There was an unsettling silence amongst them, one that was, unfortunately, not so quickly broken, “create a being capable of killing the armies we fought without help. One strong enough to take down their king, and end this war once and for all.”

“How?” An elder asked, interested, but worried about the sacrifices that would need to be made to do such a thing.

“We find a vessel, sever our souls, hide it away until it awakens, and seal away those monsters until it is ready.”

The idea was the best option they had. No matter what, they were already doomed for death, they may as well try it since it was their only chance of success. A man stepped forward, clad in feathered armor, carrying a scale shield and a metal sword. Drenched in so much blood, you couldn’t even see the color of his skin or hair. His silver eyes gave a questioning look, “we lack resources for a proper vessel. Even if we were to use one of our abled bodies, by the time our souls awakened it properly, they would pass from age alone.”

“I… am aware.” Their leader extended an arm, a shorter woman carefully walking up to him, holding her enlarged stomach, tears threatening to fall from her deep blue eyes. Her lighter colored hair contrasted that of her partner’s, who gingerly wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to his side. The woman took a shaky breath, her voice coming out like a somber melody.

“My child… Slumbering for so long only makes me wonder if this was her true purpose.”

Silence.

They all understood what needed to be done, many departing to gather the proper tools to create this being. Something similar to this was done long ago, but something of this scale- no one was certain if it would even work. The people wordlessly did their mutually assigned jobs. Another thing that made their species so powerful, they were all interconnected with each other on such an amazing level, they could self-assign tasks without overlapping with another. Their whole species worked in sync, able to complete feats faster than any others. With their amazing social abilities, intelligence, and their abilities to use basic and complex magic, those reasons alone made them the strongest. Every other species treated them like gods, for those skills and more.

A little after the sun began its descent, everyone had returned to their makeshift camp, with all but the vessel prepared. Their leader and his partner were absent, and no one went to fetch them, for they already knew what was happening by the wails and screams.

Tears leaked from the leader’s eyes, his partner not with him. In his hands, a bloodied, underdeveloped child. A sob escaped his throat as he placed the child on the pedestal that his people made, many others joining in his sorrow. As much as the man wanted to stop the flow of tears, to be strong for his people, he couldn’t. He continued to cry, all the light from his green eyes gone. He only managed to calm himself down enough to chant the spell- or rather, a curse. As the sun touched the horizon, the only people that remained was the broken man, his dying partner, only three of the four gods, and a few other stragglers who were finishing their sacrifices, turning to golden ash as they transferred their soul to the vessel.

The man found that he couldn’t shed anymore tears, as he had nothing left. He stood, with the help of the water god, and made his way to his dying partner. Him, the water god, and the fire god, helped her over. No one asked why she kept her eyes closed, they all remained silent as she, too, fluttered away in the wind, joining her people in the ashes of gold.

Green eyes looked back at the three gods, a silent message of gratitude, understanding, and pain before what was once a great leader of a noble species, disappeared. All that was left of their entire species, was a dead child that was merely a vessel of power. The earth god picked it up, wrapping it gently in a blanket, and gave a grave look at his brother and sister. Without any departing words, all they did was nod at each other before the earth god departed with the child, knowing his duty to hide it well.

Knowing it was going to be their final moments, the water god and fire god merely dragged themselves to the battlefield, thus ending their legacies.