Alone within the Vasnari Mountains of Meropis, Ourania gazed wordlessly
into the swirling waters of a mountain stream as it tumbled over the
side of a cliff. Her sorrow was felt deeply by Valnurana, the Goddess of
Sleep and Dreams, who appeared by her side with a whisper of wings.
Together they waited in silence as, one by one, the Fluvadha'thi,
devoted followers of Kastalia, joined them.

With heavy hearts and few words they stood beside the river, and a
gentle rain descended from the heavens above Meropis, falling like tears
upon the Temple of Kastalia as they watched. Even the river mourned its
lost mistress, the waters swelling and rising, flooding the temple below
with swirling currents.

"In days long past, this river was named Urs by mortal tongues," spoke
the quiet voice of Valnurana. "Let it now be known as the Fluvadha, in
memory of the child of the Moon and the Sea."

Echoing Ourania's grief, the blood-red moon reluctantly rose into the
heavens, and darkness blanketed the lands. The goddesses frowned,
knowing the Pantheon awaited them in the Garden of the Gods, and spoke
words of comfort to the mortals they left behind. As they departed, the
Lady of Dreams swept a hand across the heavens, instilling the memory of
the Goddess of the River into the Dreamrealm for eternity.

But Ourania was not yet finished grieving. Her face clouded with anger
as her silvery countenance was cast upon the night sky, her divine gaze
levelled at the western isle where Mhaldor stood. Streaking across the
darkness, a brutally thrown meteor sped toward the city, narrowly
missing as it splashed into the nearby sea, a clear and unequivocal
warning to those fortified within.

~ ~ ~

Moments later, divine illumination set the Garden of the Gods aglow as
the Pantheon began to gather atop the Pillars of Heaven. Not all were
present: some attended matters in realms far away, others gave a wide
berth to what would surely erupt in disaster were they to attend. But
their numbers were great enough that their combined voices could be
heard far below upon Sapience.

What at first seemed, to mortals, to be the rumbling of thunder, soon
resolved into the voices of the gods as fragments of their increasingly
rancorous arguments resounded from on high.

"Your thirst for vengeance may prove your undoing," rose the calm,
calculating voice of Agatheis, the Elemental Lord. "There is still much
we do not know."

The God of War could barely hide his contempt as he responded. "A
cowardly approach," he challenged. "The traitors did not 'wait and see'
before sinking their daggers into the backs of our fellows, and the
longer we wait, the more power they gather to themselves."

"In this, I side with Aegis," spoke Pentharian. "We cannot stand about
and allow them this time to further their cause. It is justice we seek,
not vengeance."

Scarlatti was unmoved by such passion. "Your anguish stains the
heavens," he warned, "and sorrow clouds your thoughts. We must consider
this further, and use the lessons of history to our advantage."

Cascades of quicksilver light drenched the heavens as Ourania prevailed
upon the gods for retribution. "She was my daughter!"

Lending support to the Goddess of the Moon, Aegis thundered fiercely,
"Give the bereaved the blood she so deserves!"

Urgently did Valnurana, Goddess of Sleep and Dreams, whisper her own
words of caution, though they were loud enough to reach the ears of
mortalkind. "Aegis, you have ever been prone to hasty assaults. Strategy
must be the strength of the gods."

"A plan must be made," cried Daedalus, "but time is not on our side. The
balance tips!"

"I say to battle!" shouted Matsuhama. "To arms! Let us remind this
infant god what it means to be divine.""

"The song shall falter with this folly," Scarlatti declared in
frustration, "and my lyre shall rest this day."

Above the cacophony, the steely, calm voice of Miramar, the Even-handed,
brought order to the fractious divinities' debate, and the voices of the
gods began to subside to a low rumble.

Silence reigned over the lands for what seemed like hours, until it was
finally broken by the voice of Agatheis. "If you are resolved, then go,"
he said with weary resignation. "We will keep vigil here, so that
Shaitan and Apollyon do not move on the Garden in your absence."

The skies above Achaea rippled and rolled with ominous thunder. The will
of the gods was united in purpose.

Penned by My hand on the 10th of Glacian, in the year 610 AF.