"Ma'am, something's been bugging me about our records of the war between the first demon king and the gods." Avideen raised her voice to get the attention of her professor.

"Yes, what might that be?" Professor Mirra stopped what she was saying to allow Avideen's question.

"Previously, it was believed the war was against another group of races, but we later uncovered records that proved that it was a war against the gods. All things indicate that the first demon king took the life of one or more gods during this war." Avideen reiterated the information from the book in front of her. "That's where my issue is." Avideen looked up from the book toward the front of the room. "I thought it was impossible to end the life of an individual who'd obtained a divine seed. All other records say the worst you can do is force them into a weakened sleeping state or seal them in some fashion. How could the first demon king kill them?" Avideen's question seemed to spark some form of discussion among the other students. A series of hushed whispers filled the classroom.

"That's a great question, and it has lead to an interesting theory among some scholars." Professor Mirra waved her hand and produced an image of several well-known scholars for the class to see. "We know it's a fact that at least one god died in that war, the exact circumstance notwithstanding." Some of the class chuckled at the joke around professor Mirra's identity. "But, many noticed the inconsistency with other accepted knowledge. Because as we all know, typical methods cannot kill those with a divine seed; they almost always come back." She waved her hand to produce an image of a seed crumbling in one place, only to show up again somewhere else. "So what this group sought to determine is this." The faces of the scholars returned with a question below them. "What stops you from killing someone with a divine seed? Does anyone have a theory of their own before I explain what they concluded?" Professor Mirra looked out at her students.

"Isn't it because the seed houses their soul and prevents it from returning to the cycle?" A boy Avideen didn't know the name of responded.

"That's close, but not quite right." Professor Mirra said. "Anyone else?" She looked around to see if anyone else wanted to speak up. When no one did, she continued by producing another image for the room to see. "The divine seed doesn't house the soul." The picture showed the standard representation for both the soul and the seed. "What it does do, is attach itself to your soul." The seed seemed to take root in the displayed soul. "From there, it grows and produces what's commonly referred to as divine mana." The budd sprouting from the shown soul started dripping a fluid every so often. "For anyone looking in at this structure, that's the final step; however, to the individual looking in at themself, it is very different." The image changed to a representation of what it'd be like to peer at your own soul.

"To the individual who houses the seed, it never appears to stop growing." The image showed a gold, black, and silver tree growing out into the empty void above. "This is a surprisingly relevant part to why the seed stops the holder from dying under normal circumstances." Professor Mirra cleared away the image to make sure the room was focused on her. "What the holder is seeing is the seed trying to anchor them to reality and leverage the soul of the holder against any potential damage their existence might cause. This is what would stop the god of the sea from causing floods wherever they went. Or the god of shadows from blotting out the sun just by speaking. The seed allows them to exist without their might poisoning the world around them. And, in exchange, each branch acts as an anchor to prevent them from dying. Any questions?" Professor Mirra said, but Avideen could tell she was trying to avoid the initial question.

"Professor, that only gives context to my question; you still haven't explained how the first demon king could circumvent the holder immortality," Avideen said, trying to make it clear what she was after. The job of goading professor Mirra on like this was one the rest of the class had decided to give to Avideen after all.

"Haah," Professor Mirra sighed. "Your right." Her voice was filled with resignation. "The first demon king used a method to cut the holder off from the branches. That is, the first time he killed a god." She waved her hand, producing the image of the tree once more. "When someone has a divine seed, using any of their strength causes more of these branches to grow away from them. But they don't all exist at the same time. Sometimes half the tree is gone, anchoring against an action they haven't taken yet. And other times, the entire tree is as small as the original seed." The image of the tree grew thousands more branches before they started flickering in and out at random. "The first demon king appeared to have a fantastic understanding of what connected someone to the branches, and it allowed him to cut the holder off from them without raising his hands." The branches stopped flickering, all of them withering away in an instant.

"I wish I could explain what he did. I wish it were something as simple as, he talked and he forced your soul to listen. But, the reality is that putting it that way is a gross understatement about what he did the first time he killed a god. So, the only way I can demonstrate this to you is showing you my own recollection of its use because I don't understand what he did myself even to this day." Professor Mirra waved her hand again, this time producing an image of what the class had to assume was her memories.

"It would be in your best interest to surrender," Mirra said to the man in front of her.

"Funny, that's what your war spirit said." He sneered back.

"Don't you dare mention them!" Merahd bellowed at the man.

"Or what?" The man almost snarled. "Are you going to kill me?" His words and tone were mocking, but his face showed an unending rage. "I was under the impression you'd do that regardless."

"Your assumption is correct. But if you surrender, we will make this painless." Mirra readied herself for a fight with those emotionless words.

"HAHAHAHA" The man's laugh was grating like he only made the sound to irritate the two in front of him.

"What's so funny, finally realize how hilarious it was for you to fight us?" Merahd said, his fists still by his sides.

"No, I find it funny how you two think you're in charge here." The man scoffed back a response.

"Ther's nowhere to run," Mirra stated flatly. "You can't escape this as you did in the forest."

"Oh, how I pity the mind of someone so dim." He mocked her words. "You think I let you choose where this conflict would happen. Your hubris is so prominent you told me which of you was going to kill me." His voice echoed across the space, drawing Mirras gaze away from him to take in the environment.

They'd descended in what Mirra initially thought was a cave. The only light source around was a small fire at the man's feet. Something Mirra hadn't noticed because her eyes were never without light. There were no apparent paths out of the area, but it was ample open space. The vast space was something Mirra had written off as a tactical choice to allow for more significant movement during combat but now was unsure about. The empty stone room had no apparent entrance or exit. It was, for all purposes, a sealed coffin with only one source of light right between the three of them. That light source cast long flickering shadows out from the three of them. They twisted and writhed, seemingly alive, but Mirra knew that couldn't be the case.

"What of it, you build yourself a tomb?' Merahd mocked the space around them.

The man's only response was a face-splitting grin. His teeth were gleaming in the light of the fire, his eyes shining in the dark. His features were so striking for an instant that Mirra's naturally illuminated vision faded for a moment to show the reality of his expression. His eyes glared at the two in front of him, a rage permeating outward from the center of the orbs. That anger faded before reaching his mouth, where he wore a smile so wide and gleeful that it split his lips at the edges. And for the first time, Mirra noticed that he had no weapons with him, and his posture was as exposed as it could be without him laying on the ground. So, when he opened his mouth to speak, Mirra realized what he'd done, and at that point, it was too late to stop him.

"The light in this space is mine; I own all its radiance. I harvested the source of this light myself and created the flame with my own hand." Pain filled Mirra's soul, an agony that she couldn't understand. "I stoked the flames to grant myself light in this dark place beyond the sun." Mirra tried to lunge at him, but the pain in her chest crippled her ability to move. "This light is for me and me alone. I did not build it for another, nor do I permit others to use my light," The pain doubled, causing Mirra to fall to the ground, her vision flickering in and out. Her eyes landed on Merahd, who appeared to be in nearly as much pain as herself. "As I cannot stop the radiance of the light from reaching another, I snuff out the flame and remove its radiance from this space." His words rang out, agonizingly resonating against Mirra's soul. She didn't understand what was happening, nor could she find a way to stop it. The fire flickered, the burning logs sputtering and spitting sparks before its flame responded to his will, vanishing from the world, drowning the place in darkness.

"This place is devoid of light, the flames of my own creation extinguished, returning this space to the darkness." Mirra's soul screamed, a sound ringing out into her mind and preventing any thoughts. She saw him standing, perfectly still with a charred pile of logs at his feet when she looked around. His eyes were wide open; his arms spread wide like he was welcoming something into his arms. "With the darkness returned, the sight of all is lost. For none may see the true shape of the darkness lest it drives them mad." Mirras sight faded at his words, her soul unable to resist the current his first statement had created. For the first time in her memory, Mirra was blind. "With no light and no eyes to see an illusion, Mirra, goddess of both, is banished from this place, her only ability to return being as an observer." Mirra felt something wrap around her soul. It tugged and pulled, trying to remove her from that dark place, and her soul complied. When she tried to resist, the force became aggressive, tightening around her soul, threatening to shatter the structure. When it stopped pulling her, She found her eyes functional again and the light of the sun coating her skin. But, when she attempted to descend to the same location, she found that only her senses could penetrate the dark space.

"So, now we're alone." The man mocked while pacing around the space, apparently unperturbed by the lack of sight. "How's it feel to be so powerless, oh god of war?" He mocked while making sure he was a reasonable distance away from Merahd.

"Your parlor tricks mean nothing!" Merahd yelled while looking around, sightless. "You still can't win this war!" He continued yelling out without knowing where his opponent was. The pain that had stopped him from acting had faded at the same time Mirra was banished.

Mirra saw the man's face split again, his teeth showing even more than before. His horrendous maw of teeth appeared almost hungry rather than humored. And for the first time, Mirra came to regret not learning his name, for she recognized that expression and the intention behind it. She remembered the maw of the first leviathan as it ate the souls of its victims, and she saw that same hunger in the face of the man in front of her. "NO, NOO NOOO," Mirra screamed, desperately trying to enter the space. But, the binding that prevented her entry held fast, and what he planned was already set in motion by Merahd's words.

"But this isn't a war." His words resonated out again, using Mirra's soul as a way to give them more power. "I obtained revenge, and you sought the same." Mirra's soul responded to the truth, adding energy to the flow created by his words. "You did not come here to fight." Another truth, another boost to the pain in Mirra's chest. "You came here for an execution." Mirra's chest burned in agony, and from his expression, Merahds felt the same. "And that's what will occur." His words hurt so much that Mirra barely registered what she was seeing. But when she did, she resumed her attempts at entry. She threw herself at the force stopping her from entering that space. She tried, again and again, to descend into the room, to force her way past what barred her entry. But, no matter what she did, she could not enter.

"Merahd, god of war and conflict," His words caused so much pain for Mirra that she felt like she was splitting in two. Merahd collapsed onto his knees, a bewildered look of agony on his face. "You came here for an execution, and so one will occur. However, against your plans and will, the one to die today will be you, not me. The execution will be your own. I grant you this chance to speak your piece before I end your life entirely." His words forced Mirra to watch, forcing her to be a witness so that this was an execution instead of a murder. She tried to close her eyes, but doing so caused her soul to shudder. She tried to look away, and she felt her soul rebel, forcing her to watch. When all else failed, she reached a hand up to gouge out her eyes. But when her fingers entered the socket of the first orb, she felt her soul crack. She would either be a witness to this or die under the weight of her own soul. So, against her will, Mirra watched the execution of her friend play out.

A look of pain flashed across Merahds face for an instant before bliss overtook his expression. His arms fell to his sides, weak, powerless. His head fell backward, his eyes starring up at the ceiling and his mouth open. When he moved his tongue, the only words that escaped from his mouth were. "Warn them, Mirra. Warn them about him." The instant he stopped speaking, a thin line of red flashed across his neck. An invisible blade having taken his head.

Mirrah screamed as she saw his head fall from his body. She screamed from the pain in her chest and the agony of watching a friend die while she could do nothing but watch. Her soul felt weak, used, like she'd been in combat for days. Her body refused to move no matter how much she wanted it to. But still, she ran, fleeing back to the pantheon to warn the others of what she'd seen.

The image faded away as the scene came to a close. Professor Mirra stood silent for a moment, and the class was the same. No one dared speak about what they'd witnessed, nor did they have the courage to break the silence. Eventually, however, professor Mirra did speak.

"That was the first time someone with a divine seed died, permanently." She looked out over the class, eyeing each student down to make sure they understood her words. "It wasn't the last, but the method he used after that was different and much more immediate. Any questions? please restrict these to questions you honestly believe I will be capable of answering." She looked around the room again, the hard light in her eyes fading to the calmer one the students were used to.

"Ma'am," Avideen spoke up again. "Do you have any theories as to why the first time was different than the rest?" She asked the question she felt was in the minds of several of the other students.

Professor Mirra was stunned for an instant, clearly not expecting a question of this nature. But, ever the professional, she recovered quickly and gave her response. "Yes, I do." She replied flatly before producing another illusion of the seed with its roots ripped out of the soul beneath it. "My theory as to why this first time was different, and why he didn't try to kill me that day is this. I believe his goal was not merely eliminating an enemy but the acquisition of a divine seed." The soul beneath the seed crumbled inward before a smaller form of it shot off into the distance, leaving behind the uprooted seed. "That would be my only explanation for the shift in tactics. Any further questions?"

Avideen didn't have any other questions, and the eyes of her classmates weren't pleading for her to goad their professor any further. So, she sat back and waited for the lesson to continue. "Ma'am" However, another student apparently had a question of their own. "Do you regret the war?" They asked, an evident lack of tact coming through in their tone.

For her credit, Mirra didn't balk at this question, or maybe she expected this one; Avideen didn't know.

"I regret the death of my friends, those I considered family." Her voice was level, but most people in the room could tell she was restraining herself. "But, do I regret that war and its conclusion?" Professor Mirra looked around the room one more time before responding. "Not a chance. I can look back and say with certainty, the first demon king was right. The pantheon had to fall." Her tone was stronger than anyone had ever heard. "Now, we've run out of time, so your homework for today is this. " She waved away the illusion and produced a written version of the assignment to go with her words. "Between a tier four archery focused class, and a tier four gun focused class, who would win? I want a short essay on the topic." Most of the students started packing away the materials they'd brought to the lecture. "And don't just write down; it depends on the amount of prep time they're given. We all know that. I want a better explanation." With those words, the lesson ended as everyone filed out of the room for the day.