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The Forgotten God

Elara had forever been common. She worked at a dusty little book shop in the core of an unassuming community, where nothing at any point appeared to change. Her life hushed up, unsurprising, and she preferred it as such. That is, until the fantasies started.

It began one night after an especially weighty rainstorm. Elara nodded off under a flashing light, the musical patter of water against her window calming her into sleep. Yet, that evening, her fantasies were unique. She remained in an old sanctuary, its walls canvassed in gleaming runes, and before her stood a figure of unbelievable magnificence — a divine being, yet not one she perceived. His eyes were vast pools of obscurity, and his voice was a murmur that vibrated in her bones.

“You are mine,” he said. “You are my beneficiary.”

Elara woke with a beginning, her heart dashing. The fantasy was so clear, so genuine, yet she forgot about it as simply one more bizarre night’s rest. That was until the subsequent dream came. Then, at that point, the third. What’s more, the fourth. Each time, the god’s presence developed further, and his words more obstinate.

“Stir to your power.”

From the get go, Elara thought she was flying off the handle. In any case, the fantasies brought something beyond secretive messages. Abnormal things started to occur. Objects around her — books, knickknacks, even the very air — appeared to move inconspicuously when she thought. She ended up remaining on roofs effortlessly, like she were attracted to the level. Her brain could order the breeze to mix, her hands could call forward sparkles of light.

It panicked her.

One morning, while at the same time working at the book shop, an elderly person moved toward her, his face fixed with age and stress. He didn’t express anything from the outset, just took a gander at her with eyes that appeared to see through her. Then, at that point, he talked delicately, “The god you long for is genuine. You are his relative, Elara. You convey his blood.”

The man’s name was Hiram, and he was one of the remainder of the old Request of the Shroud, a mysterious society committed to safeguarding the tradition of the failed to remember divine beings. He made sense of that hundreds of years prior, a pantheon of divine beings once governed, yet one was projected into lack of clarity. His supporters blurred into history, his name eradicated. What’s more, presently, the bloodline had reemerged in Elara.

She attempted to appreciate. “In any case, why me? Why now?”

Hiram moaned. “You are the divinely selected individual to reestablish harmony. Once more, the neglected god’s power is rising, yet his supporters are lost. You should have your spot, embrace the legacy inside you, or the world will be consumed by the dimness that was once his.”

A shiver ran down Elara’s spine. Everything felt excessively. She was only a savant. A peaceful young lady. How is it that she could be the main successor to a divine being?

Yet, as the days passed, she felt the change inside her. Her fantasies developed more extreme, and she could never again deny the power flowing through her veins. The murmurs of the failed to remember god filled her waking hours now. “The time is close, Elara. The world requirements you.”

Thus, Elara confronted her predetermination. She figured out how to control the old power, opening recollections from a long time ago — of tempests she could call, of shadows she could order, and of light that could recuperate or obliterate. She wasn’t simply the girl of a failed to remember god; she was the gatekeeper of his inheritance, the manager of his old insight.

Yet, with power came liability. Once more, the powers that had once dissipated her god’s adherents were blending — dull creatures from the profundities of failed to remember domains, who looked to recover the power Elara currently held.

The night came when they went after, arising out of the shadows to guarantee her life, her power, and the tradition of the failed to remember god. Elara remained solitary at the edge of a bluff, the breeze whipping around her, as they progressed.

“I won’t allow you to return him to the haziness,” she murmured, her eyes gleaming with divine light.

With a last flood of energy, Elara came to inside herself, gathering the tempest. Thunder broke, and lightning struck from the sky. The ground shook, and the sky became dark as she released the overwhelming power of her legacy.

She stood tall, as the tempest seethed around her, it was simply the starting to know this. The failed to remember god had returned. Also, presently, it was her obligation to safeguard the world from the shadows of its past.