Poll Driven Story: “The Freeing of Otyx”

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Suddenly the skeletal figure began to crumble. Both Ryvlull and the Angel gasped, taking a step back and watching in horror as the bones turned to dust and then the remains of the clothing the figure had been wearing turned to dust as well.

Before Ryvlull could say anything the Angel grabbed her arm, squeezing painfully tight and groaning in anguish. “My labor pains have begun,” she said through gritted teeth, holding her huge belly with one hand.

Ryvlull wrapped an arm around the women to support her. “Now?” she asked, looking at the throne as a sudden gust of wind blew the dust away.

“Yes,” the Angel said then groaned in pain again. “It is Otyx. He is being reborn. Please, help me through this and I’ll be forever in your debt.”

Ryvlull helped the Angel to the floor. The dungeon around them began to shake again, the winds of magic she felt blowing through the room turning into a violent gust. She knew at once the Angel was right: she was about witness the rebirth of a god.

She had freed Otyx but her divine mission was far from over. Whatever form the god took when it came out of the Angel she knew that it would be her duty to protect the reborn deity till it was ready to re-ascend to its godhood.


Some Years Later


Ryvlull stood outside the small cabin her, the Angel, and the reborn Otyx had spent the last few years living in, thinking about their time together. They had built the cabin up on the hill near where the dungeon lay hidden, allowing them to look down on the ruins that hid it as well as the beautiful vista of the large lake and the majestic snow-covered mountains that lay on the other side.

They had lived a simple life, living off the land and aided by her magic but Ryvlull sensed things were changing.

The Angel, who now went by the name of Eiael, had changed much since she had “birthed” the queer boy they called Otyx. She’d remained plump after the pregnancy, the feathers of her wings turning first gray over time then jet black.

She still wore the blindfold over her eyes and Ryvlull had never seen her take it off. There were times when the fallen Angel seemed to be completely blind while at other times she seemed to have sight that could see everything near her, even though walls.

Eiael never spoke of the “birth”. Ryvlull suspected that, like her, she had no memory of the event. She remembered the skeletal figure crumbling and recalled Eiael going into labor but after that she remembered nothing till the three had established themselves in the cabin. Otyx’s rebirth was not a physical thing and he had spent no time as a child. He had been as he now was: seeming to be a youth who had just come into his manhood. He was strange and powerful but not a God, not yet, at least.

No one seeing him for the first time would mistake him for being a “natural” being. His skin was a sickly gray color and his strange eyes glowed orange. He had a thin, wiry build that left him looking scrawny and at times malnourished. Long sharp horns sprouted from his forehead and his ears were pointed. But most noticeable were the large black feathered wings that sprouted from his back.

Ryvlull had used her magic to make him white robes that had wrapped around his body in a way that left his wings exposed. He’d thanked her for the clothing but he’d torn the top half of the robes off, fashioning the garment into a long skirt that had instantly turned black.

He had not consciously changed the color of the fabric, Ryvlull would have felt the magic at work. No, he did not use magic the way she did. Things simply changed around him, seemingly bending to his will. It happened most often without him noticing but as the years had passed he’d seemed to gain some control over the world-shaping ability.

When Eiael’s mood was dark his use of this power would terrify the Angel. When her mood was better she’d stay close to him, encouraging him to practice wielding and controlling the power.

Ryvlull did the same. Her devotion to the reborn god had only grown over the years. She was his protector as well as his most loyal servant. Eiael’s purpose was less clear and seemed to change with her mood.

Their life had been simple together so far, peaceful even. But that was all about the change. Ryvlull could sense it. Eiael could sense it. The only one who seemed not to be aware of it was Otyx…



What is going to interrupt Ryvlull, Eiael and the young Otyx’s peaceful life? (Choose up to 11 options)

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