I was a man. A high priest. Not by choice but by politics. I would have preferred to remain with my flock, teaching of the light of Aeruus. Perhaps because of my piousness, or more likely my more open mind, the title of Highfather was transferred to me when the previous one was killed.
Now I am the Highfather—priest to all gods, beholden to only one each year, for better or worse. Of all the gods I might have served, only one ever truly frightened me: Neissithaar, the Titan of Fate, Secrets… and, as it turns out, Time itself.
It’s only been a day.
It’s only been a year.
And I still have a year to go…
It is well known that Neissithaar does not actively seek worship, although that does not stop churches from springing up around the world. Thus, I had hoped that I would never pass under his shadow.
I was wrong.
I am wrong.
I will be wrong.
It appears that even the god of secrets must appease the divine accord that the Highfather is bound to. Of course, Neissithaar is not without his own tricks. For one year we are connected. For one year I must serve.
But what is a year to a god of time?
I spend a minute in the emptiness of space of the distant past, watching Duir’Aion below me as the Titans battle Titans for control over all. I watch a massive form plummet down to the world below, the victorious side watching. I know that the impact will shatter the walls of the world, creating the Pit.
I spend a minute in the far future, with the darkness all around. The world is in pieces, shattered by the primordial darkness that I realize is alive. There on a remaining patch of what was once Duir’Aion, the last god battles futilely against the Innul. I shudder as the knowledge of the name what existed before time, and after it ends burns itself into my soul.
I spend a minute watching the creation of the Ma’dar by the dragon titans, with the intention of them being a servitor race. The next minute the Ma’dar are exposed to elements, and magic, and the Aether, transforming into the elves that may or may not exist today.
My mind reels as another minute is spent underground, with the elemental titans using the same methods but creating the Mo’gorr, precursors to the dwarves. Elves and dwarves have been at odds for centuries. Do they even know they were created by the same titans? That they are essentially kin? Before I can think, I’m whisked away.
I spend another minute above each kingdom. For a moment, I can see the creation of Cheshire, of Maelthas, of every civilization. All the intrigue, the secrets, the deceptions, fill my mind. I see the end of civilizations. I see the end of Duir’Aion.
I’m not sure where I am when I realize I’ve been screaming for what seems like a lifetime. When I realize I looking down at the gods. I want to scream anew, but my voice has left me. They all see me. They all look towards the shadow in the background, something akin to pity on their faces.
In the Pit I become aware of the machinations of the rulers there, the violent demons, the crafty devils, and the cunning daemons. Their scheming actually serves to deepen and widen the Pit, bringing it ever closer to our reality. This contrasts to the gods and mortals, where their scheming for power has nearly ended reality on more than one occasion.
I see the demons marching in the near future.
I see the ground swell and erupt as something seeks to unearth itself.
I see heroes. I see villains. I see the gods.
I see the parts they must all play.
More importantly,
I see the shadow.
I’ve seen the shadow of Neissithaar in every madness inducing minute.
He’s showing me something.
He took me through a year in a single day.
I can feel the seconds of the year rushing towards me.
I’m trying to hold on to my memory
He’s was showing me something
Something important
What was it
What…
I was a man. A high priest. Not by choice but by politics. I would have preferred to remain with my flock, teaching of the light of Aeruus. Perhaps because of my piousness, or more likely my more open mind, the title of Highfather was transferred to me when the previous one was killed.
Now I am the Highfather.
I have served Neissithaar.
It has only been a year.
It has only been a day.
And I still have a year to go.
“Every Highfather has broken after serving the Titan of Fate. This one bears watching. The foretold sign…”
Neissithaar, to himself and the Highfather
A Darkness Rising 