WE DON'T FEAR ATLAS

Petunia's boot smeared at the W.
"Graffiti." She snarled.

"Petunia-- I don't think we should stay here," Crayg said, wringing his hands. "That says--"

"I don't care what it says, Crayg. It's just dirt." She grunted. "Lets camp. I'm tired."

"Petunia, I really don't think," Crayg said, holding out a hand in protest as she dropped herself to the ground and began gathering rocks for a firepit. "I don't think we should-- I mean--"

"Tent." She said sternly, pointing off into the edge of the darkness. Crayg whined quietly, but didn't protest further, beginning to set up camp for the evening.

The next morning, Crayg tore down the tent faster than he ever had in his life, for the writing in the dirt had vanished mysteriously, wiped away with big, wide strokes. Petunia took her time getting up and ready to go, but eventually the pair were on the road to-- "Where are we going again, Crayg?" Petunia yawned, stretching her arms and rubbing her eyes with the backs of her hands.

"A place called Greatwyrm Grove," Crayg said, nodding a bit as the pair of adventurers walked. Crayg extended the crudely drawn map out in front of him, looking over it idly as they followed the trail. "A large city  that was once a place that dragons enjoyed terrorizing, it seems. It should have a library so I can read up on finding the location of the Gem we're looking for."

"Right." Petunia grunted softly. "Do they have a tavern? I could use a drink." She muttered, eyeing her axe with feigned interest. It gleamed in the light; Crayg had done a good job wiping it clean of the black sludge before bed last night, it seemed, though she'd never tell him that.

"Looks like a few-- would it kill you to help me look around?" Crayg rolled his eyes in response, waving a hand ceremoniously.

"Yes," Petunia responded, "It would." She grunted. "Besides, don't underestimate the power of tavenspeech. You can learn a lot over a game of poker." She rolled her eyes. "Not that you'd know, ya goody twoshoes."

The city peered over the horizon, sun gleaming off windows and roofs as it peered over the tops of the trees ahead. Despite its name, no dragons loomed above the resplendent town; only wispy clouds and joyful pigeons which swooped down to the streets below. 

Quest for Ascension

"Thank you for your hospitality." Crayg bowed his head as the pair stood, and Petunia brushed the back of her trousers free of dust as Crayg nodded. "And it was very kind of you to make us aware of this--"

Petunia cut him off. "Stop being a jackass and let's go. I've got a diamond to shatter." She shoved her backpack-- their wrapped tent-- into his hands. He frowned at it, but said no more. Petunia nodded. "Thanks for the info, Lady. What's your name, anyway?" She looked the woman over.

"Silviya," the elder woman responded. "though most call me grand elder, these days." She scoffed softly. Petunia nodded. "Well thanks, Sil." She mounted her axe to her back and took two steps toward the exit.

"Oh, and Miss Petunia--" The woman held out her hand, pausing Petunia before she made it to the tree- wall. "Please, do take this seriously. This could destroy everything we know and care for."

Petunia sighed as the wall in front of her slid open. "Yeah yeah." She waved a hand. "Don't worry, Sil. We'll be fine."

They exited the building. The sky was a brilliant orange above the treetops, and the streets were quickly growing empty as the elves scurried into their homes and locked the doors to their businesses. Night was quickly falling, and Petunia stretched and yawned, rubbing her eyes. "Let's go Crayg-- I want to make it to the next town by midnight."

Crayg groaned, shaking his head a little as they set off into the forest. 

Under the treetops, the light was even dimmer, and it quickly became harder and harder to see what was going on. The forest was unbelievably quiet, and their footsteps in the underbrush were loud and ungraceful as they made their way back to the road. When they once again arrived at the fight scene, however, Crayg was once again struck with fear and anxiety.

The body of the creature had vanished, as well as its wares and its cart. All that remained was a puddle of black sludge, and the words scrawled out in the dust: "WE DON'T FEAR ATLAS." 

Upgrades

"So whadda ya expect me to do about it?" Petunia huffed loudly, crossing her arms over her chest. "Should I just, y'know, go around killing every random person I see in case they're an alien?" She rolled her eyes. "There's no feasible way that I would know."

The Elf Sighed. "Ah, but you can." She reach down, touching the small jewel that rested at her sternum. gently and slowly, she removed it, pulling the chain over her head and holding it out. It hung in front of her, for a moment, swinging perilously over the pool of light.

"This will allow you to see their true forms. it is how we have protected our small village over the centuries. While it may not show every creature to you, you may be of use."

"And what do you want me to do?" She took the necklace, holding it up in front of her, watching it swing back and forth in front of her. "What do you think I need to do, then? Hunt them? find the gem?"

"That is the plan, yes." Petunia slipped the chain on as the woman replied.

"And what's in it for me, then?"

"Godhood, of course." The room seemed to freeze at the words, and once again all eyes settled on Petunia, but this time, instead out of anger, it was instead in interest. Petunia herself straightened up again, holding herself a little higher, as ambition and excitement sparked in her eyes.

"Godhood, hm?" Petunia inquired, raising her scaly brows. Crayg had gone pale with fear, and he trembled slightly at the idea of Goddess Petunia. But Petunia leaned in with a pointed grin, her tail swishing contentedly as she addressed the elf. "And how exactly will you give me my reward, then?"

"Simple. When you find the gem, you will shatter it. Atlas's soul will merge with the missing fragment, and will mingle with yours. You will ascend with the Soul of Atlas mixed with your own, and you will become a God."

Petunia leaned back. She grinned, and chuckled, and touched her axe with the tips of her fingers. "Wonderful... just... wonderful." She hummed. "Let's get started."

The Gravity of the Situation

"So you're saying," Crayg started, "That these things want to steal gravity??"

"Precisely that," The elder said, waving her left palm ceremoniously. The other elves in the room had returned to lounging on the nearby furniture, napping away in peaceful bliss, as the tale of the Soulseekers was recounted. "To return their planet to orbit around its sun."

Crayg hung his head with a sigh, and Petunia groaned.

"So the Soul of Atlas keeps our planet in orbit around the sun." Crayg continued. "And these things, these-- aliens-- are here to try and take it away from us? Why don't they just move out, or something?" He sighed again. She chuckled in return.

"Moving an entire species to another planet is not an easy feat to accomplish, Mr. Craygory." She responded. "Dispatching many small search teams to find a new gravitational source is much more accomplish-able than finding a new, habitable world for a massive population like the Soulseekers."

Petunia sneered. "And I'm the only one that can kill them? You're sure?"

"Yes-- For you have the soul fragment it takes to slay the beasts." She nodded. "You see, your soul's presence possesses what these creatures want-- they follow behind you, in your footsteps, always. But what they desire also easily destroys them. Magic is their weakness; and though you use no true magic, the very magic of your soul can burn them alive." She held a small portion of light up in her hand; a few tiny bugs began to swirl around it, before disappearing into its mass, burning alive in the heat. "Like moths to a flame, they will always fly too close to the sun."

"So-- what do you want me to do about it?" Petunia scoffed. "I don't know where that gem is, and I sure as hell don't feel like looking for it. Why should I stop these things from just ravaging cities? They don't seem smart enough to find that gem themselves, if they just willy-nilly throw themselves into my blade."

"Perhaps the weaker ones are likely drawn to your soul-- they want it for themselves, to hold the power you have. but there are many stronger creatures that you face, and with far more intellect than I think you can imagine. And these creatures crawl the planet, searching for the gem. When they find it, the world will tear itself apart."

Suspension of Disbelief

"So you're telling me, that you think that because I killed that weird thing, on the road back there, that I-- that I'm a God." Petunia spat the word with contempt, wrinkling her nose, pacing back and forth with vigor. Every move she made was an extension of her frustration. "You're saying-- that I--" She turned and faced the woman, Nose wrinkled, brow furrowed. "I, Petunia Mariner, am the direct descendant of-- this figment of your imagination." 

"I'm glad you understand." She smiled. Nearly every elf in the room was staring her dead in the eyes now, glaring, but not a single one moved from their place. Crayg shrank under their gazes, white-hot shame consuming him. "Petunia, please, just calm d--"

"NO!" Petunia turned her Axe on Crayg. He fell backwards to avoid its swing and scrabbled backwards. Finally, the others in the room stirred, standing, pulling weapons from sheaths that had otherwise gone unnoticed. But when the elderly Elven woman raised a hand, they once more sheathed their swords.

"It's horse shit, Crayg! Gods aren't real! This-- is all a fairy tale to get us to do their dirty work for them!!"She gestured around with the blade, spinning wildly. "They just want to cheat us out of our work!! Well-- I won't stand for it. Lets go, Crayg." She turned her back on the crowd, and stormed off towards the exit. She promptly stopped short when she realized that the door had closed behind them. She turned with fury towards the elves, her axe raised.

"Let me out." She commanded, a sour look branded to her face. "before I cut my way out of your stupid prison."

"Miss Petunia," The Elven matriarch responded softly. "How exactly do you know that gods are not real, if you've never seen one?"

"What do you mean-- that's the exact reason!!!" Petunia hissed through her teeth, exasperation clear on her face. "Do you understand how many times I have prayed to them for help? How many times I tried to-- ask for your stupid, arbitrary, no-good divine assistance?"

"Have you considered, Miss petunia," The elven woman's smile was mocking and snide as she spoke. "That every god I've mentioned, thus far-- has been dead?"

Petunia fell silent. Her shoulders slumped, and her fists clenched, and her teeth ground together in her mouth as she glared at the woman with a mix of anger and realization. "Fine." She spat, dropping her axe to the floor with a clatter. "Fine-- you win. If your stupid-- Atlas, is truly real, then-- fine."

"I'll sit here and listen to your-- drabble."

"Please, sit down." The elven woman gestured. Petunia approached, defeated, and slumped to the floor. "I'd like to inform you of what your soul allows you."

You are our Atlas

"Ma'am, no disrespect, but I'm not sure you understand just who Petunia is--"

"Oh, I quite understand." The elven woman's sunken gaze was accompanied by a small smile. She looked, for just a moment, very, very tired. "Only one soul can slay the demons of Azkabaster. Only one has the power to take their lives. Your friend is the descendant of the god Alas, who once held the earth upon his shoulders, and bore the weight of her burdens."

"You're making a mista--"

"That's bullshit." Petunia interjected. "Gods aren't real. I've never seen one, and neither have you. That thing was just a monster, and your god, but a fairy tale." Petunia crossed her arms. Others were staring now, rousing from their blissful sleep, eyes falling upon the pair of outsiders with a mix of curiosity and anger.

The elderly woman smiled gently. "Believe what you'd like. But I can see it on your face. You are the one we have long-awaited, Miss Mariner." She reach down to touch the pool of light before her. from it sprang a near-copy of the deadly creature, and she gestured to it. It lurched, and growled, but no sound was emitted. "See before you, the demons themselves. They come in the night, into the homes of the innocent. They claw at the victim's throat and mouth while they are sleeping, and they seep into the hosts's lungs, devouring them from the inside out and assuming their identity."

She sighed, brushing away the light. It blurred, and then reformed into a muscular man; he bent, crumbling under the weight of the earth on his back. He melted away into a gemstone, radiating bright light as it receded into the core of the earth. "They seek the soul of the god Atlas. Trapped within a brilliant ruby, and lain to rest within the center of the earth. Many believe that it is what keeps the very planet we live upon turning, and what keeps the sun and the moon rising and falling from beyond the horizon."

Petunia scowled again. "This is too much. Crayg, do you believe this horse shit?" Petunia swatted at the light, which drifted around like fog and re-condensed into a new shape. Petunia, with a gem set deep into her chest, standing with her axe at the ready.

"But when Atlas's soul was trapped in the center of the earth, a small whisp escaped. It was Mother Earth's thanks for carrying her for eternity. She sent it sailing through the clouds, and down to earth, to touch a mortal. This mortal became the earth's protector, his soul intertwined with Atlas's. And from this man, the soul followed his bloodline for many centuries, thousands and thousands of milennia until it settled upon you."

The old woman smiled gently. "You are our Atlas."

Godless Goddess

There were naturally gasps of fear and disgust as the two outsiders entered the small elven village. One was covered in an unholy amount of spit, from head to toe reaking of monster breath and death and adrenaline. The other was saturated in the monster's blood, black ooze that dripped off of her mail and mixed unceremoniously from the wound in her shoulder, which still gushed blood now and again but overall didn't seem to bother her. No one in this little village had ever seen a lizardfolk before, either, it seemed, because children cried out in fear at the scaly monsters, running away from the dragon attack.

They were lead through the town for but a short while before they approached the base of an enormous tree; it stretched upwards into the sky with branches ever-bathed in autumn yellow. At its base, however, not a single stray leaf  could be seen; as if the tree was trapped in that moment of autumn where summer melts into the cold crisp air and everything begins to die.

The elven man who had accompanied them paused at the base of the tree. He stood, looking at it a long moment, before muttering something in elven and gently pushing open a small door that had risen from the bark. Petunia's nose screwed up, and she squinted gently at the darkness into which their guide receded, before plunging in herself.

Within was a large, open room. The center glowed softly, flickering as if there was a fire burning in the pit there; but no heat came from it. The room was outfitted in ornate rugs and beautiful curtains cascading down the smooth wood walls in vibrant colors like a waterfall of fabric. Many elves lay about, scattered around on large, plush pillows of satin, nonchalantly draped across one another in graceful sleep. Within the center, an elf with silvery hair that fell about the pool of light in front of her sat staring, vacantly ahead. Their guide was on his knees, bowing before her.

"I dare not waste your times with lies, Madam," He was muttering into the dirt. "It's true. The daughter of Atlas has returned. She has slain a soul seeker."

"Come forth, Child of Atlas, and kneel before me."
Petunia grimaced again. She crossed the room and stood before the woman, but did not kneel.
"I suppose that will do. It is very nice to meet you-- may I have your name?"

"Petunia Mariner." She replied proudly. "And this -- is my servant, Crayg."

"Petunia-- a beautiful name." she smiled warmly at the pair. Her eyes, however, never met the pair; they stared past them, at a distant point on the horizon, glazed and empty of attention. "I am humbled to be before she of a celestial line."