253. A Conversation with a God

Secret Proscenium Stage, Somewhere In between space and time, outside the realms of realitySolious, watching the surreal display of domestic discord interrupting the fate of the cosmos, let out a deep, exasperated sigh.

“What are you sighing about, huh?” Umbra snapped, giving Solious a sharp, accusing glare as he paused his attempts to placate Isabella. “As if you never fell in love with a mortal before?” He returned immediately to convincing his wife that he was simply maintaining political necessities, not indulging in romantic intrigue.

Finally, Isabella relented with a resigned nod. “Fine, we will discuss the definition of ‘diplomacy’ later.” Isabella’s gaze immediately sharpened, pointing toward a specific area of the stage that remained utterly, unnaturally pitch dark. “The Saintess seems to be praying specifically to you, so I came to inform you.”

“Ha! So it’s finally time she seeks answers to her blessings, huh?” Umbra chuckled, a dark, satisfied sound. “This Saintess was quite late in figuring this logical path out.” He started walking toward the deepest part of the shadow. “Isabella will keep you entertained and restrained while I have this long-awaited conversation with the Saintess,” Umbra instructed Solious, before vanishing into the darkness without waiting for a reply from the Goddess of Light.

Once he was gone, Isabella moved to the center of the stage and settled onto the edge of the cool, black stone where Umbra had been. She looked directly at Solious, her eyes filled with cool assessment. “So, Goddess of Light and Justice? What exactly do you want with my husband?”

Inside the Pitch Darkness, In Between Space and Time

The sensation was one of absolute sensory deprivation: darkness, infinite and oppressive, where boundaries dissolved and the only perceptible sound was the incessant, unsettling murmur of hundreds of stirring, whispering voices. Marie floated aimlessly within this void, a single, insignificant blob of faint light disrupting the uniformity of the eternal shadow.

She realized her prayer was going unanswered; the sheer density of Umbra’s domain was overwhelming the fragile thread of her consciousness. She was about to give up and attempt to will herself back to reality when the whispering chaos was instantly quelled by a voice that boomed, powerful and chilling, cutting through the void like a physical force.

“So you finally figured out that you should talk to me, Little Saintess?” the voice resonated.

Marie instantly snapped to attention, her voice steady despite the awe she felt in the presence of divinity. “Greetings, God Umbra, Lord of Misfortune and Shadows!”

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“You do have proper manners,” Umbra’s voice replied with a low, amused chuckle, the resonant sound sending subtle vibrations through the darkness. “So, little Saintess, what urgent secret might you seek my help with?”

“Oh, Lord of Secrets! Please heed my prayer and reveal to me the hidden nature of my divine blessings!” Marie replied, her tone perfectly respectful, adhering to the formality befitting a mortal addressing a God.

A sudden, sharp burst of laughter thousandfold and unnerving echoed out, instantly followed by Umbra’s own deep, resonant voice. “You do realize that if luck is truly on your side, you possess the raw potential to kill all twelve of us with your own two hands? That inherent power makes you an equal, does it not?”

“Even so, the Lord of Shadows remains a God, and I am merely a mortal vessel,” Marie replied with humble defiance. “I would never disrespect your eternal position with such base familiarity.”

“Ha! Ha!” Umbra’s voice boomed with warm resonance, the sound vibrating the very air around her. “That is quite the command over courtesy! I quite like you, Saintess!” Even though Marie could not see him, she felt an immense, ancient pleasure emanating from the darkness. “Very well. I shall help you.”

“So… will you really tell me all my blessings and abilities?” Marie asked, her voice alight with eager excitement.

“An impatient one, aren’t you?” Umbra chuckled, the sound amplified by the countless whispering voices of his domain. He continued, his tone shifting to one of subtle, political limitation: “Unfortunately, even though I hold all the secrets that you seek, I cannot simply bestow them upon you.”

Marie’s excitement instantly deflated. Though she couldn't show a face in the darkness, the disappointment was clear in the pitch of her voice.

“Because if I did, there would be considerable friction among the gods for sharing information of their unique blessings without their approval,” Umbra explained patiently. "The delicate balance of the Pantheon's power is not easily disturbed, even for a Saintess."

There was a silence for a few seconds as Marie absorbed the political complication among the gods, then Umbra chuckled, a deep, conspiratorial sound, and continued, reigniting her hope. “Which is precisely why I shall reveal them in this elegant, roundabout manner.”

“Rather than just receiving the knowledge, you must formally find the Apostle of each God and have them pray to their respective deity in your immediate presence.”

“That act,” Umbra finished, his voice gaining a subtle weight of legality, “will be deemed sufficient permission for me, the God of Secrets, to then reveal that specific God’s blessing to you.”

“Wait… won’t that mean I have to find twelve Apostles?!” Marie asked, the sheer magnitude of the task hitting her all at once.

Umbra’s voice was utterly indifferent. “Indeed, little Saintess, that is exactly what it means. As the Saintess of this era, you are destined to rally the Twelve Apostles to your side anyway to face and defeat the Witch. This is merely a minor inconvenience, a proactive step toward fulfilling your destiny.”

“With that, I have answered your prayer. Go now, little Saintess. May my domain of misfortune not grace you with its presence too soon,” Umbra finished. Before Marie could utter another word or process the enormous task set before her, the profound darkness dissolved.

She gasped, opening her eyes to find herself back in the quiet, familiar space of her room, sitting in the prayer position she had begun in. The conversation was over, but the enormous task of finding the Apostles had just begun.