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“You choose to protect these mortals! Then die like one!” Canaan’s voice silenced part of the battlefield as Aq’Ashem collapsed, her mind wandering to a long-concluded conversation:

………“Despite everything, you will die in the year 1224, during the first week of the seventh month. Your death could mean many things, and there are many pathways to it, Aq’Ashem.” Galmachis stated, with no judgment, only honesty, “However it cannot be avoided.”

Aq’Ashem, who had sat across from the god, sipped from a glass of water. “Will I have the choice of who to help should this plan succeed? Will people suffer less?” She asks, her tone serious as she studies the god for his response.

“It will not be your hand to ease the suffering of countless others; it will be the heroes you assist. Our faith in them and their faith in us will see this concluded.”.......

Aq’Ashem’s final breath, despite the pain she bore, was peaceful. She knew there was nothing to fear in death; she had met him many times, and she refused to greet him as anything other than an old friend. As her soul left her body, cradled by heroes, Galmachis’ scythe herded her towards his open hand. With him, she would reside, made again as an avatar. 

She would be rewarded for her faith in the mortals she served.

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Not all displays of faith are large. There is something unique about the Travancians gearing up to help Melta rebuild their village. They may not know it but the very beings that watch over lifes domains progress bolster their efforts.
 

The Monastery, which stood brave through the assault of Canaan’s forces still indeed stands, though damaged in some areas, Father Ephrem and those within sheltered through the onslaught, their faith ensuring the walls stood. They would soon be met with chaos as the control of the forces broke as the Travancians succeeded in reimprisoning the Highland King. Set with a new task, to help the innocent who had been displaced, quick work was ready to be done.
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Within the dark depths of this purgatory realm, the Corruptive Metamorphosis felt its body pierced. It had been hiding, its power enough to sometimes elude the hunters that Malyc and the Din Ori had set upon it in this prison.

With conviction, the Travancians gave “That Which Turns You into Not You” an identity. When they named it, they weakened it, illuminated to everyone the lies and the problems, and were able to forge solutions and answers with their faith. The unknown became known, and it was less powerful that way.

The lances of those whose faith was with the Primal Spirits were enough to pierce but not free the once clever Nyad. One by one, they ripped from it the pieces it had stolen. One by one, the Corruptive Metamorphosis was made to feel loss. It writhed as the power it so heinously wrested was returned to the plane and the beings that owned it, and slowly the amorphous being began to become smaller and more condensed.

When there was nothing more to take from the nyad but the masks it wore, it realized how alone it was within this realm. This peace would be short-lived, as the sound of predators within the deep water made it flee. The God of Hunting would, in solidarity with the Spirits of Arawyn, not forgive the actions of the Nyad, and here it would remain perpetually hunted.
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Deep within a dimly lit realm, chains echo as they move. The floor is slick with blood, and divine red light pulses like a heartbeat. The light illuminates the grand expanse, open and intended for many people, though one remains chained at its center. 

Canaan Ul Neira struggles against the chains, which tighten whenever he moves. He curses, bloodied from battle, as the beating of drums plays in the far-off distance, marching closer. The sounds of the Agaurans that placed him within this realm chanting, their faith resonating within the purgatory, deafening even the sounds of the chains that Canaan struggled against. Each chant and each action of dedication to Agaura manifests on Canaan’s body. Never healing wounds for a man that could not die.

As long as the faithful were strong and resolute with their faith,
Canaan Ul Neira would suffer.