"You know, Noen, back then there were many like you…"
Many years earlier:
The morning fog lay heavy over the river, and the damp cold crept through every fiber of the soaked clothes. The village had gathered along the riverbank. Men, women, children — all of them stared at the unfinished structure stretching shakily over the raging water.
"Slowly… now!"
A young man pulled on the rope while two others heaved the final piece of wood into position. For a heartbeat, the world seemed to stand still — then the crossbeam locked into place, and the bridge held.
An excited murmur passed through the crowd, followed by relieved cries. An older gentleman with a weathered face stepped forward. His hands trembled as he reached out toward the young man.
"Thank you so much, boy ! Without you, I never would have finished this bridge!"
The bearer of the mini god's power shook his head and gave a faint smile. "No, we thank you for your trust — in the name of Elionis."
Other bearers of these special powers stood beside him. Their posture was upright, their eyes clear, almost solemn.
Suddenly, a desperate cry broke the atmosphere.
"Please! Help me!"
A woman staggered through the crowd, a small, motionless child in her arms. The girl's face was pale, her lips almost colorless.
"She's dying… she's slipping away…"
One of the bearers knelt down in the mud in front of her and gently placed his hands on the child's chest. A soft, warm light began to glow, pulsing calmly, like a second heartbeat.
The girl twitched slightly. Coughed. A faint sound escaped her lips. Then her eyes slowly opened.
"She… she made it… my baby…" The woman burst into tears. "Only thanks to you and your healing powers! How will I ever repay you?"
"Do not thank us," the bearer said calmly. "Thank our lord Elionis."
A reverent silence spread. Heads bowed, some people fell to their knees.
"The powers of the minigods strengthened the people," Rhuven said. "They gave them healing, helping abilities…"
He paused briefly.
"And thanks to Lum, no one could ever misuse those powers."
"But then, exactly twenty-one years ago…"
The wooden sword now lay whole in the boy's hand again, as if it had never been broken. No crack, no mark. He turned it in the light in amazement and broke into a wide grin.
"Thank you so much, mister!" he called happily, and ran off, waving the sword through the air as he went.
The bearer of the minor god's power watched him for a brief moment. A gentle smile was on his face.
"Don't thank us, thank El—"
He broke off in the middle of the word and collapsed to the ground.
Instantly. Motionless. Dead on the spot.
Silence fell over the square, heavy and unnatural.
"What… what's wrong with him?" someone whispered.
A second bearer knelt down beside him, placed his hands on his chest — and slumped over in the very same moment. A third ran up. Half-kneeling, he tried to help... and also fell forward.
Panic broke out.
People screamed. Mothers grabbed their children. Some ran. Others stood frozen, unable to look away.
Not all of them died that day.
Many lived on. For hours. For days. For months.
But one by one, they collapsed. Dead. Without warning. Without any visible cause.
Over a period of four years, every single bearer of the mini gods powers died.
"All... dead...."