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"The gods created the heavens and the world beneath us." Vicar Morrel spoke straight from the parchment to the crowd of villagers that had come for his weekly preach. He stood at the far end of the chapel in his white robes that had purple silk hanging off of it. The crowd was respectfully quiet. It was sacrilegious to interrupt a member of the church. "When the world was desolate and unformed, the world shrouded in darkness, they brought light. They saw this and saw that it was beautiful. They separated it from the darkness, naming the light, day and the darkness, night."

"How many times do we have to come here?" Vargus whispered over to the otter that stood next to him at the back of the chapel. "He starts the same way every week."

Pavel shifted a little, his armor shifting more comfortably on his shoulders. "Every week. It's not so bad."

"I should be on patrol." Vargus sighed and rested his paw on the hilt of his steel sword. The silver and black wolf hated coming to the chapel every week. He knew the story of creation by heart, everyone in the Kingdom of Stelam did, most people in the world did and yet everyone was expected to come to church on the first day of every week to listen to it again and again.

"Don't let anyone else hear you say that." Pavel hissed into Vargus' ear. "You know how people get."

Vargus rolled his eyes. He knew, stake burnings were still a thing, though beheading was becoming the new favorite from of execution for heretics. "Just saying."

"Well, you can just listen to the Vicar." Pavel looked back forward and continued listing to the Vicar give his preach.

Vargus gave another sigh and sat down on a nearby bench that was occupied by the rest of the city guard. A few got to skip mass, since the city always needed guards on patrol, but those positions were a lottery and Vargus never seemed to win.

"Let the world be filled with all the creatures, each kind of livestock and crawling thing. The gods made each kind of creature, unique in its own way. They saw this and it was good." The Vicar wasn't just speaking, he was yelling with religious fervor, just like he did every week.

Vargus considered himself devout, just as devout to the church as anyone else, but he felt alone in his opinion that religion didn't need to be shoved down his throat every week, especially since he already knew the story.

The wolf looked down the rows of seats and pews that were filled with wide eyed citizens. They looked as if this was something that they had never heard before and Vargus wasn't sure if any of them were faking it since they were all like this every week.

"Although this was good in the eyes of the gods, they wanted more. To see the world filled with their beasts was good, but not good enough." Vicar Morrel raised his arms up to the heavens, or the stone ceiling in this case. "The gods blessed the land with fruit, fruits of knowledge to the beasts and they ate it and from it they were risen from their forms of labor and risen. They, under the guidance of the gods, built our great civilizations." Vicar Morrel wasn't reading from the scripture anymore, instead he was going on one of his famous rants.

"They allowed us to be what we are today, to build this great chapel, this great city and these great kingdoms, all under the gods, but they gave us free will." He pointed out at the crowd. "They trusted us to honor them, but we betrayed their trust. We waged war against each other and sinned, cursing them for our misfortune. They left us because of this, they went back to the heavens and left us to wallow in our misery."

Someone in the crowd began to cry. Sounded like a child near the front. Vargus couldn't see. The chapel was massive, the largest one in the city and capable of holding the entire north district which was home to two thousand people, now all in this massive stone structure that had giant stained glass windows depicting images from the scripture.

Images of the gods, great pale beings riding on gray beasts that spewed fire in their wake. It was a powerful image that even Vargus found chilling whenever he saw it.

"But do not fret dear child." Vicar spoke softly, his voice still echoing across the chapel, having been built to make it so anyone speaking at the front could be heard regardless of how loud or quiet they were. "We have not lost hope. We are all here to remember where we came from and to honor the gods, even as those around us lose faith. The cretins of the east, those vagabonds that have turned to the old magics will not deter us."

The was a reverberating "amen" across the crowd.

"We hold onto the old values that have allowed us to survive without the gods." He slammed his first on a nearby podium, a vase with a flower on it shook. "We will not turn to the dark arts as so many have. We will not let the armies that muster at our borders shake us, the gods will return and with them, we will bring faith back to the world."

The Vicar spoke for two more hours, riling up the crowd the entire time and Vargus was relieved when it was finally over.

"What watch do you have?" Pavel stretched once the Vicar dismissed the crowd. "I have the south wall all day. Should be easy."

"North wall, though I'll be heading home early." Vargus and Pavel walked out of the front doors into the grand walled city of Melur, named after the first god. It was the largest city built by man and therefore the capital and home of the Church. They walked down the chapel steps onto the courtyard that was filled with people, all coming from mass and heading to their shops to open up for business for the day.

"No fair." Pavel whined.

"Yeah." Vargus pointed to the east where there were storm clouds brewing, black and ominous. "Captain knows that I live beyond the walls, so she's letting go early to beat this storm."

"Okay." They walked across the courtyard to head over to the barracks for their midday chow. It was customary for people to eat after mass. "That makes sense and that storm looks big."

"I'll check in, do a few rounds then head out."

The wall was meant to stop sieges of all kinds, from trebuchets to those walking beasts that arcanists were concocting in their dens. Evil things that could break lose from their master's controls and tear apart the countryside.

They were mentioned in the scriptures and were called golems and it took either armies of other golems to defeat them. Magic was forbidden by the Church, but they knew the necessity of it in war, so they did hire from time to time.

The walls could stop a golem, fifty feet tall and made of pure stone, dirt, ice, whatever was at hand at the time of creation. Lesser cities were known to fall to a single golem that could simply walk through walls.

The walls of Melur were one hundred feet tall and eighty feet thick, built by the gods since Melur was also the first city as well. It was built by he gods in a single day and gifted to their children. It was a marvelous creation of architecture that had housed the faithful for over five thousand years since the departure of the gods. This was the reason why Vargus remained faithful despite his reservations about certain policies. No one could have built the city and its walls, not with magic, not with one hundred years. There were still homes that, although under the control of the Church, were barren. There weren't enough people to fill all of the buildings.

Vargus stood on top of the wall and gazed out across the flat fields that surrounded the city. Any incoming army could be seen almost a day in advance from this part of the wall. There were mountains to the south that were filled with rich ores, forests to the east and the ocean was several days away. Everything the city needed was close by.

The wolf leaned on his pike and watched the fields that were being worked by farmers as far as the eye could see. The land was rich and watching it all was calming.

"I never get used to it." Captain Fillisi, a lioness and captain of the guard, responsible for the defense of the city when not under siege, walked up next to Vargus who stood up straighter and got off of his spear.

"Huh?"

"The view, the city, up here." She smiled from behind her open face helmet that could be closed and leave a small slit to look through. "Marvelous."

"It really is ma'am." Vargus replied and took the view in. "It really is."

"The storm is getting close." She looked over at the storm clouds. "Making my rounds and sending those who live outside the city home, so go ahead and drop off your gear and get going before you're trapped in the barracks for the night."

Vargus liked that about her. She was fair and cared individually for each of her guards that were under her. He gave a quick salute which she returned and hurried down the vast and wide stairs that led to the pulleys that expedited the process of getting off the wall greatly.

At the barracks, which was mostly empty since it was still too early for any of the watches to be changed. He stripped off his armor and stored it in his locker that had his name engraved into a wooden plaque on the front.

"Chaplain said that this is going to be the storm of the year." Vargus overheard a few rookies, fresh from training talking as they sipped on cups of hot tea. He kept an ear open while he pulled off his cotton undershirt and put on his more comfortable wool tunic and leather vest.

"I heard. Said that this is no ordinary storm."

"Yeah. I wonder what he means by that. Can't be magic, can it? I haven't seen magic do anything to change the weather."

"How much magic have you seen before?"

"As a cub, a mercenary company stopped in my home village. They had a wizard with them who put on a show for the children. Did all kinds of tricks with fire and rock."

Vargus slipped off his breaches and winced at the smell. He needed to get them washed when he got home since he had forgotten a fresh pair at his house and was forced to wear this one for three days straight. He tossed that into his satchel and pulled out his civilian cow hide pants.

"That was just a show. No, I heard that them wizards, mages, magisters and such can do just about anything."

"Then why would someone be playing with the weather? Crops will be coming in soon and we can't be having a rain storm tearing up the fields."

"I don't know. I'm no magic user, if I was, Church would have picked me up. Maybe once the storm passes by, Chaplain or one of the Vicars could clear it up."

"S'pose so. Until then, we need to get to the wall, Captain's waitin on us."

Vargus heard the sound of wooden stools being pushed and then the clanking of light armor as the two left the barracks to go assume their watches.

The wolf threw his satchel and backpack over his shoulder and headed out as well. It was getting dark even though it was midday. If he wanted to get home before the storm got too big, he would need to hurry so he jogged towards the gate that would take to the road outside of the city and back home.

People were getting inside to wait out the storm, so there weren't that many folks blocking the path and Vargus made it to the gate in good time.

The gate was kept open at all times since merchants and weary travelers from across the world were constantly streaming in and out. Vargus nodded to a guardsmen as he passed by.

Outside the city was very different from inside. There was no small settlement at the base of the city since Melur was large enough to have everything inside. There was just flat farmland for miles immediately outside the walls.

The wind started picking up by the time Vargus reached a familiar fork in the road. One way led to the shore and the port town of Greensboro, the other led to the woods, which was where Vargus lived. It was still several miles away and looking back, Vargus could see that the storm was gaining on him.

It was times like this that he regretted not using his reenlistment bonus on paying for a house in the city. Members of the guard got a good deal from the church or he could just live in the barracks. There were more than a few who called the barracks home all year long, but that wasn't the life for Vargus, he needed a home to call his own.

The wind was howling, whipping at the trees around Vargus by the time he reached the woods. He could see rain falling less than a mile away as the world turned a shade of gray. He pulled his arms tightly around him and hurried forward.

It was pouring already when Vargus got to his home, a log cabin that had belonged to his father before he passed away. It wasn't large, but he didn't need much room. There was a log with an axe buried in it and a shack full of fire wood for winter off to the side and Vargus could see light coming from inside.

The chickens had fled into their coup. He reminded himself to collect their eggs once he got the chance.

Vargus burst through the door that squeaked in protest. He was soaked from head to toe and chilled to the bone.

"I'm home." Vargus hollered out and slid his packs onto the ground where they made a squishy noise from the moisture they had absorbed.

"Daddy!" A shrill voice called from deep inside the house and then a small wolf came darting around the corner. Petrus looked almost like a perfect copy of Vargus, except smaller.

"Hey there." He knelt down and to hug his son, but the eight year old pup stopped just shy.

"Your wet." He poked his dad's nose. "I'm not hugging you." He giggled and ran off when Vargus made a swipe at him, trying to pull him into a hug anyways.

"Come back, here." Vargus laughed and chased after the quick miniature version of himself. "Your getting a hug."

"NoOOooOO." Petrus yelled, already out of site and no doubt hiding now. "I don't want to be wet."

Vargus entered the main living space. It wasn't much, a table, a wood stove that Petrus had vigilantly kept strong and shelves filled with books, scrolls and other knick knacks that he had collected.

"I'm going to get you." Vargus said, but got no response. Petrus was too smart to give away his position, having learned that the other times that he had been caught, being tricked into saying something when he thought his father was in another room.

Vargus looked around, there weren't many places to hide. The cabin only had a few rooms. There was the bedroom, which both he and Petrus slept in, the kitchen and the living space which he was in now.

"Can't hide forever." Vargus went over to a pile of skins that he had been tanning and peaked under them. Nothing. He went over to the shelf and looked behind it, but alas, the child was not there either.

Vargus crossed the room and stopped when he heard a squeak in the floorboards under the rug he was standing on. There was a cellar where the meats where kept and that was often one of Petrus' favorite hiding spot, but the trap door under the rug had rusty hinges, making it impossible to get to without making any noise, bur Petrus was crafty.

"I'm going to get youuuuu." He peeled back the rug and there was a odd square piece of wood with a metal ring attached to it. He pulled on the ring and the trap door opened with some give all the while the hinges screamed at him. There was no way that Petrus had gone down there, he would have heard.

There was a set of wooden stairs that led into the small cellar that was just a big hole under the cabin, but was still a constant, cool temperature all year long.

It was empty, minus the few pieces of salted meat and jars of mean on the shelves.

"Hmm." Vargus rubbed his chin. There was nowhere to hide in the kitchen, that left the bedroom.

Vargus tiptoed to the bedroom and heard a small gasp.

"Gotcha!" Vargus went prone and as he fell onto his stomach, he threw his arms out under the bed that had been carved by his father from a massive tree trunk and grabbed the small wolf before he could scurry away.

"You're wet!" He yelled while laughing as Vargus big fingers tickled him. "I don't like being wet." He fought back halfheartedly until he was pressed up against his father's chest, then there was no more fight and he hugged back. "Welcome home daddy."

"Good to be home." Vargus let go and stood up. "Now let's get something cooking, I'm starving." Petrus nodded in agreement and ran off towards the kitchen, no doubt to cut some potatoes. He loved the starchy stuff, even if most wolves tended to not.

Vargus was about to follow him when there was sudden boom from above and outside. It wasn't thunder, this was something else.

"What was that?" Petrus yelled from the kitchen.

Vargus didn't know and he was about to ignore it when suddenly there was a massive, ear bleeding, shriek the shot over the cabin. Vargus covered his ears with his paws and was almost sent to the ground, it was so loud. The shriek only went away after there was an earthshaking crash.

"Daddy." Petrus ran back into the bedroom and grabbed onto Vargus. "What was that?"

Vargus held onto his son, disorientated from the headache he had now. "I don't know, but I'm going to go check it out." It didn't sound smart, but he needed to make sure that it wasn't a threat to his son.

"Don't go." Petrus pleaded as Vargus grabbed his raincoat and a scabbard with a short blade. His issued longsword was in his locker back in the city, so he had to use this sword which was blunt and meant to just train with, but it was better than nothing. He also grabbed a hunting bow and his quiver.

"I need to make sure that you're safe." Vargus went to the door, being trailed by his son. "If anything happens, or someone gets close that isn't me, hide in the cellar." He turned around and gave Petrus a quick kiss on the forehead before he went out into the storm.

The rain was pelting Vargus, but his rain coat, which went all the way to his knees, kept him mostly dry except for when the wind caused the rain droplets to come at him horizontally.

Vargus looked up and saw a black streak in the sky. It looked like smoke and it went over his house and towards further into the woods in the same direction as the noise from earlier. He followed it with the bow drawn and an arrow already notched.

The land was full of strange creatures. Tales of ogres in the Nomads, treacherous mountain passes, they were half the height of a golem, but lustful for flesh and blood lust. Dragons were known to roam in Outlands and occasionally make ventures into populated lands, but never this far and they didn't leave trails of smoke in the sky. Vargus didn't know what to expect as he got close to where the smoke dropped from the sky and fell to the ground.

The smoke trail went into the trees that no longer had tops and slowly grew shorter as whatever had come streaking through went thought the oaks with ease. Some of them were on fire or smoldering, having been lit only moments ago before being put out by the rain.

Then there was a crater, a massive pit in the ground that was steaming, some of the rocks around it were still glowing red from the heat.

Vargus approached the crater slowly, ducking behind trees to hide himself, but slowly he got to the edge of the crater and peered down.

There was a large rotund object there, not some creature. None the less, it was an unknown and Vargus was very afraid.

"It crashed over here!" A voice called out and Vargus heard the sound of hooves. He went prone in the mud, making himself as small as possible as four horses and their riders came out of the woods on the opposite side of the crater.

"Hah! Look's like we're the first one's here." They were armed and wore leather, but they didn't have any markings that Vargus could identify. They looked like bandits to Vargus.

"What is it?" One said as they dismounted their horses. "Never seen anything like it."

"What does it matter?" One went to the edge of the crater, his paw on the hilt of his sword that was on his hip. "It fell from the sky, wizards would pay anything to get something that fell from the sky."

There was a wolf, a boar, a horse and some other kind of feline and they all stood on the edge of the crater. Vargus kept watching, not wanting them to see him if he moved.

"Bird shit falls from the sky." One snorted.

"Does bird shit light tree's on fire and dig pits the size of your mother in the dirt?" The wolf poked the boar in the chest who didn't reply. "Didn't thinks so. Now let's get down there and take what we can before someone from the Church shows up."

They slid down the bank, one after the other, following the wolf who drew a sword at the bottom and hit the object with it. It gave off a metal clink and the wolf's ears perked up.

"My my." He grinned and shook his head to get loose water out of his eyes. "I think we've got a fallen star or some sort. Will most definitely fetch a pretty penny." He turned to the others. "Get rope and the pickaxes. We're taking all we can!"

The boar and the horse, turned around, shoulders slumped at having to climb back up the bank that they just went down and began to climb.

The wolf along with the feline whose tail was fluttering nervously inspected their prize.

"What are the chances?" The feline purred. "That this comes falling out of the sky right when we're passing through."

There was a loud popping noise that shocked everyone as the top of the object shot into the sky and landed far out of sight. The wolf and the feline both held their swords. The boar drew a bow and the horse held onto a war hammer as steam rose from the hole that was created from the object.

Everyone waited in silence until a figure appeared, crawling out of the object.

Vargus couldn't make out what it was. It had some sort of gray clothes on, or was it skin, it was shiny like metal, but flexed like wool. The figure had a large head with no features on it, except for strange things coming out of the jaw that went behind it and into its back that had a lump.

"Who goes there?" The wolf shouted, taking steps back and away.

The figure stood up, it was smaller than Vargus, but not by much. It turned around and looked at the wolf and the other bandits. It twisted its head sideways. It looked confused.

"Get down from there." The wolf commanded. The feline was already making his way up the embankment.

The figure ignored the wolf, instead it tapped on something on its wrist. A light shone from it, creating some sort of image.

"It's magic!" The boar yelled. "Kill it."

The boar shot his arrow which went wide, but the figure hunched over at being fired at. He pulled something from his hip and pointed it at the boar. There was a loud cracking pop and a small flash came from the device the figure had.

The boar's head shot backwards and he fell the ground, his body unmoving.

Everyone was silent, even the wolf.

The figure stood up straight and pointed the device at the bandits who flinched. The horse dropped his hammer and crawled on top of his feral horse and rode off.

"Coward!" The wolf called after him and when the figure wasn't looking at him, he threw a dagger he produced from his boot. The dagger hit the figure in the arm who screamed out in pain.

The figure hunched over, holding his arm where the dagger had hit him. He dropped his device, instead pulling out a different one that was hung on his back, this one was longer and more menacing looking. The wolf realized his mistake and made a run for it.

There was a flash and something that Vargus could only describe as a ray of light came out of the device and hit the wolf in the back, The wolf grunted and fell face first into the mud. He didn't move either.

The feline was long gone, having taken a horse as well and ridden off.

Vargus was petrified with fear at what he had seen. This was indeed magic of some sort. He needed to get home and make sure Petrus was safe, but he didn't want to move and be spotted.

The figure dropped the long device into the object and grasped his wounded arm. He gripped the handle of the dagger and let out a scream as he pulled it out. The figure looked at the dagger for a moment before falling off of the side of the object.

Vargus could see that the figure had fainted. If he was to leave, then now was the time, but something kept Vargus from fleeing. The figure had only become violent when he was attacked and let those that didn't attack him leave. The figure was injured and years on the guard had taught Vargus to help those in need, even if the one that needed help had just killed two people in ways that Vargus didn't understand. He was also curious. The figure had come out something that had fallen from the sky. He would never get an opportunity like this ever again since the Church was undoubtedly on its way to grab everything.

Vargus crept down into the crater, his boots were sloshing from the water that had pooled into them. He was shivering, but he didn't feel it as he passed the body of the wolf.

There was the smell of burnt flesh and fur which made Vargus retch.

The figure was sideways in the mud, half sunk into the dug up, wet soil and was surrounded by a pool of blood. The figure looked frail and thin compared to the wolf, but seeing what it was capable of, Vargus knew not to underestimate it.

Close inspection revealed that the figure's head was in fact a helmet of some sort, made of metal, but the faceplate was made of some kind of glass, the type of which, Vargus had never seen.

The figure's chest was rising and falling which assured Vargus that it was still alive.

He ran his paw over its chest, the material of the clothes, he was pretty sure it was some kind of clothes since the crotch had no genitalia, but had a bulge under it. It was spongy to the touch, but smooth and tight, holding onto the figure's body like a glove.

"What are you?" Vargus whispered.

A hand shot up and grabbed Vargus' paw. He yelped and scurried backwards, the hand that had grabbed him with long fingers let go easily.

The figure's hands went up to its helmet and pulled the faceplate back.

Vargus could only stare as he saw a pale, furless face stare at him, a face that resembled the one on the stained glass window, the face of one of the gods.

"I..." It whispered. "I need your help." It reached out to him before falling back into unconsciousness.