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In hindsight the God watched the battle, trying to figure out what went wrong. These were memories he hadn't accessed for ... well, to say years would be an understatement. Grumbling, his senses reminded him that he was not alone. With a grunt, the God struck the ground and seemingly shattered the very fabric of reality. A tear opened, and through it rushed what appeared to be a river, composed of time rather than liquid.
"Watch." He grunted without emotion, sliding his stout frame over to make room for his daughter to stand at his side. What they saw, obscured slightly by ripples in the stream waters of time, was this:
The world looked far different, so unlike anything in Helovia that they could have been looking at another planet. Trees that grew in colours almost unimaginable were buffeted by winds which were visible. Magic ran rampant in these days in a way that the Gods had stopped before any of the original generation had arrived. Flickers of multiple dimensions bled through the sky, and the world was cluttered by every aspect of both the visible (and the invisible) light spectrum. Radio waves, x-rays, gamma rays - all could be seen. The world was a chaotic jumble of magic and beauty, and it was being destroyed.
The scene suddenly shifted, focusing. It was through the eyes of the God that they watched. His kin fought at his side, though their targets were different. His Earthen brother was focused on the earth, and the diseases that the monsters had introduced. Great worms and landsharks devoured all they encountered, and were seemingly fixated on reaching the core of the planet. His fiery counterpart was busy fighting off entities who tried to combine all light into one massive ball of energy. Different light particles were bound together in a way that defied physics. Finally, his sister was being dealing with the demons who came from alternate dimensions: doppelgangers and shape shifters.
But the God of the Spark was focused solely on her. The great bitch who had manipulated all of the lessor demons into doing her work. Drolgatha, like the man who had visited Ros in the forest, had no form. Her face constantly shifted behind a black cloak, which was somehow both dingy and unimpressive, and yet highly reflective and textured. Only her crimson eyes and wicked smile remain fixed.
In the stream, Sparkmarrow came into view. Wielded by a hand of electricity, the blade opened a rift between the worlds. Like a black hole, the rift began to pull and devour all within its pull. The God's kin forced their demons into the rift while he tried to ensnare Drolgatha.
Knowing pride would be her downfall, the God doubled down on a plan that would either win this war, or lose them everything.
He proceeded unafraid.
The hand of electricity holding the blade suddenly flung the sword forward. Carried on visible currents of electricity, it hurled towards the rift. As it grew nearer it began to move faster until finally its trajectory was guided by the rift, rather than the God's electricity. With a hiss, Drolgotha lunged for it. Her hands talons gripped it just before it would devoured by the darkness, a smile of success and triumph appearing beneath the folds of the cloak. She hissed her dominance as her red eyes turned towards the God.
Although his smile could not be seen through the time river, it could be felt. Lightning flashed from the sword, binding and freezing Drolgotha. Every fibre of her being was being simultaneously over stimulated by the current flowing through the sword, as well as fixed in time. Without her magic to hold her in place, the bitch flew into the rift. With an exhausted rear, the God's hooves struck the ground forever closing the rift.
Narrowing his eyes, the God leaned forward. Although in the memory he had turned away, the God adjusted the time stream so that both he and Ros could focus on the closing of the portal, rather than the sounds of jubilation from he and his kin.
The blackness closed, with a sound that resembled a giant zipper. At its base, hardly larger than the size of a pebble, remained dark. A red eye, knowing and wicked peered through that hole, before pulling back and disappearing all together. Time raced by quickly as the time stream sped up. Decades raced past, and Helovia began to look more and more like it did now. The vision remained stationary on where the rift had closed, and once it had slowed down into present day, can you guess what it showed?
Those mother fucking icebergs.
The infinitely small cracked which was left open, was just visible through the time stream if you knew where to look. And through it, after all those decades, that same red eye appeared.
And it was smiling.
"It didn't close." The God breathed breathlessly, raising his muzzle from the waters. His lips were tight and thin, and for a moment his body wavered with electricity so fiercely that it looked as though he might explode. "I am a fucking idiot." He concluded after a moment, grinding his teeth together. Spitting into the time stream, it suddenly dried up and disappeared, as the God looked at the broken pieces of sword.
"She used it to hold the rift open ... But if that's what the sword looked like when it came through .. I can only imagine how she looks."
Turning to Ros with a deadly and unquestioning seriousness, he regarded his child now. It didn't matter if she was ready, it didn't matter if he was reckless by asking this of her. She was the child of fucking time, and her time had come.
"We have to find her."
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