One night after Aunamee prays to his fog shrine, fog billows outward from it. For only a moment it seems gradual, seems faint, until there comes a whisper.
"My child..."
The awed whisper resonates in the back of Aunamee's mind before the Fog God materializes in front of him, a young woman with long, curtainlike hair. Her face is mostly obscured with a mouth that will not move when she speaks, as she speaks from the Fog itself.
"Your love and devotion amazes me every time. There truly is nothing you wouldn't do for me, is there?"
She extends her hand outward, softly touching that of Aunamee's. Around them, Aunamee's room melts away, darker features of Dyster emerging to replace them. The Fog God - Sarah - helps Aunamee come to his feet, gently tugging him upward to the echoed cheers of what seems to be a sizable crowd. There is indeed a crowd, but it is comprised of shadowy figures who speak enthusiastically amongst themselves, eagerly awaiting the Fog God's chosen.
She drifts closer, extending her misty hands and gently placing them on Aunamee's shoulders. Fine tendrils of fog extend from her fingers and travel across his shoulders and down his back, deftly weaving themselves into a magnificent cape.
"I'm so proud of you."
And she drifts back to face the crowd, extending her long arm out to Aunamee. In a louder, more exuberant tone, she addresses the shadowy followers. "He who has punished the followers of the false god, who has sung my praises endlessly..." She turns back toward him, her long hair swishing behind her almost rhythmically.
The shadows, though, fade away to reveal a barren landscape, a ravaged desert. Sand blows all about with harsh winds, though none of it seems to touch Aunamee.
"The humans did not appreciate their gods or the land I gave them," she says solemnly. But her pitch brightens, the whispers behind it growing. "Not like you, my child."
The scenery shifts again to another area, what appears to be a forest destroyed by fire. Ashen tree stumps dot the scorched grass, and the wind continues to blow.
"They fought endlessly, driving my siblings to their own war." The misty hand touches Aunamee's head, imparting in him a vision of the rest of the land, a greyed-out, desolate world, lifeless and destroyed. It is a fleeting, instant vision, but it seemingly conveys the entirety of the desolate world.
"I preserved what they didn't destroy and bestowed it upon new humans, hoping someone like you would arise..."
Now they are back in Aunamee's room, before the very shrine he had built for Sarah. In a loving whisper, she continues: "You are a treasure to me, my child. My priest." Her hands glide up to cup Aunamee's skeletal face. Even with his lack of sensation, he can still feel the soft warmth radiating from her touch.
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"My child..."
The awed whisper resonates in the back of Aunamee's mind before the Fog God materializes in front of him, a young woman with long, curtainlike hair. Her face is mostly obscured with a mouth that will not move when she speaks, as she speaks from the Fog itself.
"Your love and devotion amazes me every time. There truly is nothing you wouldn't do for me, is there?"
She extends her hand outward, softly touching that of Aunamee's. Around them, Aunamee's room melts away, darker features of Dyster emerging to replace them. The Fog God - Sarah - helps Aunamee come to his feet, gently tugging him upward to the echoed cheers of what seems to be a sizable crowd. There is indeed a crowd, but it is comprised of shadowy figures who speak enthusiastically amongst themselves, eagerly awaiting the Fog God's chosen.
She drifts closer, extending her misty hands and gently placing them on Aunamee's shoulders. Fine tendrils of fog extend from her fingers and travel across his shoulders and down his back, deftly weaving themselves into a magnificent cape.
"I'm so proud of you."
And she drifts back to face the crowd, extending her long arm out to Aunamee. In a louder, more exuberant tone, she addresses the shadowy followers. "He who has punished the followers of the false god, who has sung my praises endlessly..." She turns back toward him, her long hair swishing behind her almost rhythmically.
The shadows, though, fade away to reveal a barren landscape, a ravaged desert. Sand blows all about with harsh winds, though none of it seems to touch Aunamee.
"The humans did not appreciate their gods or the land I gave them," she says solemnly. But her pitch brightens, the whispers behind it growing. "Not like you, my child."
The scenery shifts again to another area, what appears to be a forest destroyed by fire. Ashen tree stumps dot the scorched grass, and the wind continues to blow.
"They fought endlessly, driving my siblings to their own war." The misty hand touches Aunamee's head, imparting in him a vision of the rest of the land, a greyed-out, desolate world, lifeless and destroyed. It is a fleeting, instant vision, but it seemingly conveys the entirety of the desolate world.
"I preserved what they didn't destroy and bestowed it upon new humans, hoping someone like you would arise..."
Now they are back in Aunamee's room, before the very shrine he had built for Sarah. In a loving whisper, she continues: "You are a treasure to me, my child. My priest." Her hands glide up to cup Aunamee's skeletal face. Even with his lack of sensation, he can still feel the soft warmth radiating from her touch.
"Continue to serve me and show me to the world."
With that last whispered praise, she disappears.