"The grim reaper?!" Alan shrieked. "It's real?!"
"Shout all our secrets a bit louder, would you?" Claire huffed. "Never in my hundred fifty years have I seen such reckless children."
"A hundred fifty?!" he shrieked louder.
"Yes," she scowled. "A hundred. Anything you want to add?"
Alan straightened. "Nothing, Elder. You just aged well is all."
She scrunched her nose. "Well, anyway, that story is told to make children feel less scared of the dark."
"How…? There's a creepy god taking ailing children."
Claire hummed. "What do you fear most, Alan?"
"I… I don't know?"
"That's fine. You're just a kid, after all. But to me… I fear not being able to make a change."
"But… What?"
"Every day, you wake up with an infinite array of choices. While some lead to the same outcome, others change everything. But at some point, no matter what you do, all choices you can make will lead to one unchangeable future. And that scares me."
"That includes natural death," he muttered.
"It includes any type of death."
"But I don't get it. Why does the Grim Reaper exist if there's a God of Death?"
"Well… It doesn't make sense, you know. That prophecy your elder told you has a few holes in it. Space created the universe with Time, meaning that he also created everything inside 'space,' which includes the stars. But the 'Stars' joined some time after. What do you think about that?"
"That… huh. I think that the wording must have been diluted over the generations. Then again, 'Light' came after the 'Stars,' but our light comes from stars."
"Exactly," Claire smiled. "Nothing makes sense when it comes to what a God symbolises. For example, the Goddess of Light, Life, and Courage came after the first gods. Were those gods not alive before she came to be?"
"So maybe they claim some idea? Then the God of Death would have been the first to claim 'death'?"
"Based on how there's no other God of Death, he might be the only one. He did it when he was the first to make a god die. And it was his father, no less," she laughed. "Maybe that made them fear him."
Alan frowned. "He made his father die? Why?"
"Who knows? According to the stories of the God of Death and the Goddess of Light, his father, the God of Power, was a tyrant. Every other god, however, thinks quite highly of him."
"Wait. You said that he was the only one to claim death, right? Doesn't that mean that other gods can claim the same thing?"
"Honestly, that's another grey area in mythology. Every region has its own beliefs, you know. For example, there are multiple Gods related to war. There's a god for preventing, starting, fighting, and ending wars."
"Wouldn't that get confusing? Unless they have names?"
"They do have names, I think, but we humans cannot hear them."
"Why not?"
"It is said that the name of a god is too much for us to comprehend, so once we hear it, we forget about the encounter entirely. Maybe this is just a rumor to explain why there have been no reports of Gods visiting us, though. But we do give them codenames. The God of Death, for example, is the Fallen Star."
"And the God of Power? I'm guessing it's Power?"
"Exactly. The Goddess of Life is called the Truth, by the way."
"You sure do know a lot, huh?"
"What can I say? I love history and what it means. If I see a statue, I must find out what it-"
"Oh!" he cut her off. "I remember something!"
"Do you?" she sighed. "And that is?"
"There was a…" he trailed off.
"A…?"
"I…" Alan pinched his nose. "I forgot. Sorry for cutting you off."
"No problem," she waved him off. "If you've forgotten it twice, you must have stumbled onto something terrible."
Alan paused. "Hey… Do you think he really killed his father?"
"That's what the stories say. But Alan, do you think that Gods can die?"
"Since there's a god of Death, I'm guessing yes?"
Claire hummed, "I think so too. And maybe we are correct. The stories definitely conclude the same, but then again, these stories were passed down through generations, so no one knows if it was just a fairytale or an eyewitness account. But I do believe it was the former."
"Doesn't that make your earlier story about the woman and her child unreliable, then?"
Claire laughed. "You're quite the cheeky one. But those murals… It was a prophecy, yes? That means that you don't know the story?"
"I don't."
"It must seem strange, then, how the Fallen Star killed his father. But he… Well, according to the stories, he seemed like a loner. Only one other divine came close to him, and that was the Hope."
"His literal opposite?" he chuckled. "What a guy."
"Yes, well, his father… It is debatable as to what the God of Darkness's father did because every story is different. Only the Goddess of Light and the God of Darkness have similar stories regarding him. All that is consistent in every story is that the Fallen Star ended his father's immortality."
"So he created 'death' by ending eternal life?"
"You're very smart. That's probably correct. But the gods loved their immortality. And because the Fallen Star had the power to end it, they held endless scorn toward him. This is my personal theory, but the gods started to fear the God of Darkness, thus making him the god of Fear."
"Actually… How would Gods reproduce? I mean… Does a God plus another God make a God?"
"I would be surprised if anyone knew the answer to that, but I do like theorizing. A vast majority of the Gods were said to be the children or the parents of others. But that doesn't mean that a god's child would be the patron of something related to their parent. After all, the Fallen Star's mother was the goddess of the Stars, which is a really stark contrast."
"Ah. There was a statue of a woman holding her child near the temple."
Claire blinked. "You… remember something?"
"Huh…" he paused. "I do. Maybe it's because the statue was outside the temple."
"Although…" Alan continued. "I'm curious. What other things were you told about the temple?"
"I was told about who had built the temple. Some of the worst sinners of the time had everything around them turn into darkness, and the only way to get out of it was to help build the temple."
"Markas sure has comforting stories," Alan shivered. "And sinners as in…?"
"That is not so clear. I'd like to imagine that they were the people whom Cynthia convicted, but then again, all she convicted were sent to hell."
"Are those demons?"
"That, actually, is very well known. The Fallen Star is the only one who can imprison some people, and those people are called 'demons.'"
"So Cynthia is a demon, then?"
"I… I never looked at it like that, but I suppose so."
A small silence ensued. The two of them, who were by a forest, stared at the sky.
"I wonder how they claim their forte," Alan mused. "Do you have any theories? I mean… Death likely existed before its patron, and so did Darkness and Fear. So the Gods weren't born with a subject."
Claire smiled. "You do have a point. I do believe that there was Light, Darkness, Life, Death, and so on, even before the Gods existed. But what I believe is that in order to be the God of something, a divine being must do something monumental related to it. But then again…
Let me take the example of our God. Little is said about how his original powers came to be, but his other powers… I have a theory or two. I think his primary power is Darkness.
Do you think that a person with their memories and instincts wiped would know that a dark room is scarier than a room that is lit? A normal child, on the other hand, would avoid an area that is too dark to see in.
Do you think that it's because they fear losing their way? Perhaps, but a brain-dead person has nothing to fear. What I'm saying is, we human beings are instinctively afraid of darkness, just as we are of dying.
And if we go with the Goddess of Light, don't you think our brain-dead person wouldn't care whether or not he was in a lit room, while a normal child feels safe in the warmth of light and stays clear of the coldness that is the dark?"
Once more, the two of them were silent. Alan's eyes were fixed on the ground as he frowned in thought.
Suddenly, Claire glanced back. "Well, Alan, it's getting late. You need to go to bed."
Alan frowned further, but didn't argue. "Thank you for the talk. Good night."
"Good night," Claire replied with a smile as Alan began to walk away.
After Alan had left, Claire turned in the opposite direction.
"Few can make my hair stand on end," she said quietly. "And yet, they aren't doing so."
There was nothing but stillness and silence coming from the forest she faced.
"What a strange feeling that is," she continued. "Knowing that you should have goosebumps but not feeling them at all."
"I applaud your senses," a voice said from the forest. "And I have an offer."
His voice was smooth and a bit reserved. Claire tilted her head slightly.
"I am a Resonator of Aurevia. There isn't much I haven't seen. And what might your offer be?"
"The child wants to be trained," he said plainly. He stepped closer, and his figure was brought to light. "I wish to teach him."
The man was tall, a bit skinny, but most definitely lean. Even in the pale moonlight, his black hair and eyes shone distinctly. His face was blank, if not, betrayed boredom.
"Shouldn't you be doing better things? Riding a stag, perhaps?" Claire said with narrowed eyes.
"They are not so comfortable, unfortunately. And you are aware of who I am?"
"I have an idea," she said plainly.
"Do not misunderstand. I am doing what I must."
"For what cause? Don't tell me he is on your level."
"He is not on my level, no. But that is for him to decide, and not me."
"You haven't answered my question," Claire noted.
"I have no reason to. Also… There are no such things as 'Gods.' Do not mislead a poor boy."
The man turned to the forest. Wind blew throughout the forest, and yet, his hair remained the same as it was. As Claire stared at the man's back, she couldn't help but wonder why the moonlight concentrated around him.
She watched him walk away in silence. After all, her fear had caught up to her.