A Bored Lich

The legacy's activation shot a pillar of mana into the sky. It swept through the world; it pierced through sea-storms, choked out deserts' sunlight, and casted shadows upon grassy plains. Mortals stood upon their world, gasping in awe.

Maker watched a spec within the universe become a blind-spot. She floated outside the planetary veil, its existence an offense to her all-seeing gaze. She stretched her arms far and wide. Her radiance flared brighter than the sun behind her, yet the veil remained, unimpressed. Her eternal smile tensed, untensed, then tensed again. 'It's the same as the last two times,' she thought, reverting to her original form.

"You seem to be holding back," a voice called out from behind her.

"Child, I did not come here to break it," Maker said, recognizing the voice of her son. She turned, welcoming the God of Evil with a bright smile.

The God of Evil chose a humanoid form with slick, black hair hanging over his red, crusty skin and yellow eyes. Blue blood still flowed from his face, dampening his black toga. Maker could never comprehend why he chose such a decrepit garment to clothe himself. She told him countless times to change it, yet seeing it soaked with his blood birthed a small-yet-surprising twinge of guilt within her.

The God of Evil glared at Maker: "Don't act as if you haven't seen the wound already, or that it isn't your fault." He gestured to the fractured moon on the other side of the veil.

"I wasn't planning to claim otherwise," Maker explained. "I came here because I wanted to meet with my children once more."

The God of Evil chuckled: "And if it wasn't for the rules, would you have still come then?"

Maker shook her head.

The God of Evil smiled sadly.

Maker added, "If not for our rules, neither of you would come. I'd have no reason to be here."

The God of Evil opened his mouth to disagree, paused to think, then finally chose to remain silent.

A few moments passed where neither spoke. They gazed at the damnable veil while droplets of blood floated off the God of Evil's face.

"You could have covered the wound at least, not that it would help," Maker suggested.

"I could have," The God of Evil agreed.

Maker waited for an explanation, but he returned to a moody silence. 'Did you want me to see what I've done?' she thought.

Maker took a breath and faced him again: "Are you thinking about what to say when your sister arrives?"

The God of Evil broke his silence only when Maker faced his grievous injury, confirming her theory: "What is there to say? I can already see her smiling and spitting out passive aggressive insults about "righteousness" and "Justice" and whatnot. How long did it take for her to heal anyway?"

"Only a few centuries," Maker mused. "Have no fear. The balance will be restored, eventually. If all goes well, maybe never."

The God of Evil narrowed his eyes. "Don't tell me you actually believe that your champion can stop all of this?"

"He already sealed your champion." Maker tried not to sound condescending. "You could have stopped all of this centuries ago. As a newly born Lich, Doevm could have been your next Demon King. Maximus Draken even tipped the balance in your favor."

"Maximus Draken was precisely the problem," The God of Evil said.

Maker smiled, neither agreeing or disagreeing: "Of course he was."

Both heads turned as a third god took shape. The Goddess of Good smiled radiantly in her white dress, like her mother, albeit less mature in appearance. She greeted them both with curtsies; first she curtsied to her mother then, with a subtle sneer, curtsied to her bleeding brother: "I apologize for the delay. I had to remember the process."

"Was it completed?" Maker asked, prompting the Goddess to hold up a game piece. Maker nodded in satisfaction then gestured towards the game board.

Floating behind the three gods was a stone slab; unremarkable upon a glance yet more smooth and level than anything in existence. A map of Enloa sprawled across the top of the slab, the foundation for the game pieces - chunks of rock and precious metals suspended within glass shapes. The shapes varied from large or small, winged or horned, thick or thin, and one was broken.

The Goddess floated towards the board but the God of Evil stopped her and held out his hand: "May I examine it?"

"As long as it doesn't break," the Goddess said. With her free hand she swept the broken piece off the game board, then handed the God of Evil the new piece. "I spent a lot of time preparing."

The yellow in the God of Evil's eyes deepened. "Preparing for this piece you mean, yes?"

"Also yes," the Goddess said, shooting a glance towards Maker.

The God of Evil snorted, plucked the piece out of her grasp, and held it up to the sun. Although the game piece's glass was as clear as any on the board, the light refracted gray. He cocked his head to the side. "Interesting," he said. "Where were you both hiding it until now?"

"It did not exist until now," the Goddess explained, and Maker nodded.

"Even after this?" the God of Evil asked, pointing to his wound. His grasp around the piece tightened. "The Grand Shaman is no more because of Doevm, and you mean to tell me that he wasn't a piece?"

Maker's radiance flared, emphasized by the black veil behind her. "Relax your grip, child! The absolute truths for us are the rules. A soul has to be chosen but also willing. Does the piece pass your inspection?"

The God of Evil reluctantly tossed the piece back to the Goddess of Good. "It looks fine."

"Fine for an enemy of paradise," the Goddess added.

Maker shook her head. "Not everyone is against you, my child."

"Not for long, for my time has come," the Goddess let a portion of her godly arrogance slip through her smile. She floated towards the board and placed the piece onto it. As she retracted her hand, the piece shifted on its own accord, stopping around the middle.

"Vilbar," the God of Evil noted.

"So that's where Doevm was hiding," the Goddess turned away from the rest and put a finger to her chin.

A minute later, the veil vanished as did the Goddess. Half of the game pieces shifted towards the new piece as if to welcome it into their ranks, but Maker knew better. The other half remained in place. 'I hope you've prepared, Doevm,' she thought. 'You've finally taken up your role.'

The God of Evil pondered over the board. "How did you manipulate Doevm into joining you? He was so stubborn as a Lich. He would never leave his library."

Maker didn't blink: "Manipulate him? I did no such thing."

"Sure you didn't," the God of Evil sighed.

"What will you do?" Maker asked.

The God of Evil didn't respond, vanishing like his sister. Maker's smile twitched as half the game pieces shifted south of the new piece, towards the Acrin Kingdom. 'I can't fault him for being predictable,' she thought. 'I'd do the same for my champion.'