#ahmontae

[princeoftrashy]

sorry this is such a shitpost lol

Some context, Ahmontae is the former King of the Gods and the Dragon God of Time. However, due to some... disagreements, the Old Trinity of Goddesses (consisting of Lanae, Zola, and Ánh) cut out his heart and split it into seven pieces.

[princeoftrashy]

And Yet

At the terminus of the war, two things were certain:

The Old Gods were dead, and you can’t kill a god.

But, as the smoke dissipated and the battlefield cleared, it became apparent that they could be turned into something else. The Fates called this The Return, for all gods come from nature or mortal thoughts. So to “die” is to return to the spirit of the world, and the magic from whence they came. It was not something to be feared, nor was it something to expect. Only something that was known.

The younger of the gods, however, had come up with another name. A new name. A name for the perversion of what was known. Of what was natural.

They called it the “True Death.”

And they were afraid.

And perhaps they were right to be afraid.

Of course, to us mortals, at least, we might think it’s obvious to be afraid. Sensible even. But we know death. We understand it. It’s the great inevitably that comes to all of us someday. And one way or another, we will all come to bear witness. But to gods? Ageless, divine beings created when the world was still new? To beings older than this mortal world and such concepts?

It is one thing to understand, it is another to know.

And none of the gods had known “True Death.”

Not until the moment that Ánh, Champion of the Rebellion and newly crowned Queen of the Gods, had ripped Ahmontae’s heart from his chest and torn it asunder.

But now they knew, and they were terrified. After all, if it could be done to Ahmontae, the strongest of them all, it could be done to anyone.

And to think of what had become of poor Ahmontae! He had betrayed them all, or so it was said, but did he really deserve such a fate? Was there no other way?

These were the questions and worries that hung over the crowd on the day of Ánh’s coronation. The air was still and frigid, and the sky was a dull gray. And the people were silent as the crown was placed upon her head, its metal holding nothing in its gaze.

 This should have been a happy day. They should have been celebrating. They had won. They had overthrown the old order. Begun anew. Stopped the destruction of everything. Saved all of existence.

They had won.

And yet…

And yet.