Rhilio turned to the other Gods and Goddesses gathered around in lavish seats, back to his discussion, and ignored Xenro. He always did.

"Edis," he called.

The God of Winter stepped forward, proud and dignified. Frost-white robes the same color of his hair rippled in his wake.

On his arms there gleamed the image of a thorn-tailed, reptilian creature, inked in the hues of dark blue across his skin: the ice dragon, his true form which he assumed as he descended upon the Mortal Realm.

"I believe you understand what you have to do once the Apocalypse strikes the mortal world."

"Yes, Father --Your Majesty," said Edis.

"Do not disappoint me like your brother did," said Rhilio. The Winter God's eyes flitted to Xenro for a brief moment.

"And, Lord Migdros, I need you to embark on your duties, right away," Rhilio said.

A tall, heavily muscled God rose from their seat, gave the king a deep bow and left, deftly ignoring the trail of blood on the floor.

"I shall relight the Torch of The Divines on the decided day of the Apocalypse. You all shall be granted the full extent of your powers to unleash the disaster in the mortal plains. I wish you success in restoring the harmony between the realms," Rhilio said with a finality in his voice that announced the end of the discussion.

The other Gods, the king's counsellors, all began to take their leaves, seemingly oblivious of the bloodbathed figure standing there, unmoving. He spoke again after the royal courtroom was almost empty.

"The reason you have to take such an extreme measure is because you are incompetent, Your Majesty," Xenro said, eyes on the floor.

For a few stunned moments, Rhilio stared at his hunched form. Then he rose to his feet. "Mind repeating that, dear boy?"

His voice did not hold anger. Rather, it was calm. So calm indeed it made it certain that something was terribly wrong. Rhilio reached for his jewel studded sceptre.

Edis, the God of Winter, dropped all pretenses of proud indifference. He threw himself between Xenro and Rhilio. He glared at Xenro to stop, but he was having none of it.

"I said— incompetent." Xenro looked eye to eye with Rhilio, though his hand trembled on his sword grip. "You do not know where the monster's den is. And you are too cowardly to hunt it down. So you burn down the whole forest."

"I may not fight the monster, but what's stopping me from crushing this vermin right here under my foot?"

Rhilio raised his sceptre. The air crackled. Waves of celestial sorcery swelled in the air of the courtroom all of a sudden, ready to strike.

Edis took one look at Rhilio, and shoved Xenro out of the way, both crashing to the floor. Blinding light flared from the end of Rhilio's sceptre, followed by a deafening crack.

There on the floor where Xenro had been moments ago, was a gaping hole. Smoke sizzled out of its edges.

"Father, please!" Edis said, getting to his feet, arms spread wide to shield Xenro behind him, "You need not bother paying heed to his ravings."

"Bother? This is my eternal punishment I must endure, because I bestowed my powers upon...him." Rhilio gestured to Xenro. "You are truly my biggest mistake."

And he was right. Xenro had never wished for the powers that were thrust onto him upon ascension, nor the familial bond that bound him to Edis and all those other immortals granted godhood by the king.

Yet here they were.

Rhilio raised a weary hand to his face. "Get him out of my sight, Edis."

Xenro always found it astounding how Father could spit venom at him, then act as though he was the one who suffered.

Edis began ushering him out of the courtroom, but Xenro shook off his hand.

He had enough. Centuries, millenniums of it, in fact.

"I shall not let you destroy Stormvale." Xenro lowered his sword from his shoulder, and pointed it at Rhilio. "If you are so afraid of facing the source of the problem, then I will do it. Kill it, burn it. Whatever it takes to destroy it. After all, I am the one in charge of cleaning up."

Without another word, Xenro strode out of the courtroom, footsteps reverberating off the walls. Edis chased after him.

Rhilio watched them leave with resentful eyes. A moment later, he spoke, addressing the empty seats the Gods had occupied earlier.

"Atruer," he called, "I know you are there. Show yourself."

"As His Majesty wishes." A raspy voice cackled out of thin air.

A hunched figure shrouded in black materialized on one of the seats. Lord Atruer, the God of Despair raised his deathly pale face and grinned, revealing razor sharp teeth. "Perhaps His Majesty will appreciate some help in disciplining his mischievous boy?"

"Do whatever you want," Rhilio said disdainfully, "just make sure there are no interruptions during the Apocalypse."

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