As destruction is no object, nothing which is capable of being held in the hands of any mortal, or most gods, therefore it is no object which is capable of being bent to the will of anyone but Oisreve, yet it remains still to be no object, it is a reaction. Whilst destruction is all power in the eyes of all mortals, and terrifying to deities who witness their creation burn, it is still a reaction, nothing to be blamed on the one who controls it, at least in this natural state.
Simple boarder disputes can become full out wars, one man fighting another in a bar could turn into an entire city in flames. All conflicts cause destruction, therefore destruction is at the whim of mortal conflict. But Oisreve would not stand being the slave of someone else’s desire but his own, filled with rage and fire, he sought out a great smith, Regnarogal, housed at the very boarder of Oisreve’s domain, the ruined land.
He spoke of gifts to the master smith, things that the man could only dream to have, but he turned down the offer and simply continued hammering the iron blade in his hand, bending it to desire, forging it, crafting it to his wanted properties. Oisreve stood silent, looming over him. Regnarogal was no simple man, he was blessed by some entity unknown to him. But this knowledge remained untold, Regnarogal would not speak, he simply hammered, and so he did for seven nights through, only stopping for the occasional sleep and feast within his household.
But finally the deception ceased to work, and Oisreve’s patience ran to its limits. Through a magnificent chain of events, the entire village, one of the few not already charred to the foundation, erupted into flame. Regnarogal’s deception, the heinous crime of lying to the face of End would stop, and the properties that the blade, Logrin the Eater, were found out.
In an act of rage Oisreve’s mercy was nonexistent, and the small town was put through literal hell, the land itself splitting open, houses falling down into the crevices left behind. Regnarogal was put in place, Oisreve then told to him. ‘’Should you sacrifice your skills, your mind, and your hammer to me, then this town will once again prosper.’’
Regnarogal’s family was the only thing on his mind, desiring to save them, and help them into better lands, he agreed. Oisreve brought back the man to his own fortress, the central piece of one of the greatest empires of history, now only spires marked by the end, sheds and tents sitting within the great and tall walls whose once prideful dominance now was ruined, decayed. The sky bristled of malevolent energy, in fact, the sky itself seemed to follow a different color compared to beyond the walls.
But Regnarogal, the greatest smith of his time, followed obedient behind the back of this Devil. Inside the mind of Oisreve he knew that he had not enough time to act before he’d be put unto trial. Therefore, once atop the central spire, the Tower to Heaven, he forged a contract with the smith, granting him power, knowledge, and tools beyond his wildest comprehension, but only if he’d carry out the God’s task.
He accepted,
And at the moment his words were spoken, his mortal flesh was engulfed into fire, and before his eyes his hands, feet, his entire body, was remade in fiery brimstone. His character remained the same, but he grew remarkably upon his ‘ascendance’. He was given a new name Rydlyr, and he was the first Herald. He was the creator of the most heinous war machines, where he brought his knowledge, always war followed, and where he brought his hammer, an abundancy of weapons were always forged.
‘’Now you are mine, you are the first Herald.’’
He was engulfed in iron, his fiery stone skin merging with the iron, and soon, he was nothing more than an armored husk, mindless to his masters will. ‘’You will forge, those I bring you will bend, and mend their flesh with this iron, for this metal is carved from my own body.’’
And with his hammer he pledged, and began work upon the greatest vassal, much to his masters desire, forged from the body of a young maiden, a beautiful woman, he embedded a great tool, the Orb of Thes, and through this, Oisreve would no longer be bound to the will of any deity of conflict, his independence granted, now he was the master of his own desire. For through binding his power to this orb, this vessel, his power would arch above all his domain, and reaction could finally be caused without a cause, and destruction was now only in his own hands.
The maiden’s name was Gaian.
