Dominion NES

Shizen had been just a normal bakemono.
Had been.
The years and years of magical research had finally paid off - he was immortal! And now he was going to enjoy it. All of it.
It wasn't hard to get into a position of power as an immortal - you just had to let someone stab you, and when you didn't die, they would practically revere you as a god.
He wasn't bad at his new job. His immortality had successfully convinced most on the island - bakemono and humans, and whatever else - that he was, if not a god, at least worthy of allegiance. The rest were not powerful enough to maintain their existence.
And then - the cataclysm happened.

It hadn't really affected anyone in Shinuyama as much as it certainly did elsewhere, but everyone felt that something was missing in the world. Shizen, however, saw it as an opportunity. He gave this speech to his people:

'Shinuyama no bakemono! Shinuyama no ningen! Kami ga shinda! God is dead! It seems that even God is mortal! And yet - I am not! Even God cannot cheat death - but I can! Does that make me more powerful than him? Perhaps it does, perhaps it does not. But I can say that in a world without God, who will protect you? He cannot - he is dead! But I can. Follow me, and I will lead you to far greater heights than God ever would have!'

By the end of it, the crowd was shouting 'Kami! Kami! Kami!'*
Shizen smiled. Now for the rest of the world... he thought.

*(Kami means god.)

Stheran looked out the window of his palace and sighed. “Are you sure he’s gone Kyzarc?” He asked sadly.
“Yes, I’m afraid so. Kathnesjac just left without a word. What do you want me to do?”
“Find him, we must know where he went, people would lose faith in our unity if we start disappearing. I’ll do my best to keep this country going, but without you two it will be more difficult. Kyzarc, I will need your power in order to allow Arshnoc to survive.” Stheran turned to face Kyzarc and placed his hand on his head. Kyzarc bowed his head and placed his own hand on Stheran’s head and a strange light filled the room. Kyzarc began to age past his original 20 years. Lines drew themselves across his face as his energy poured into Stheran. Kyzarc collapsed onto the ground, breathing shallowly.
“Kyzarc, it is up to you to find Kathnesjac. I place a Geas upon you to not return until you find him, now go.” Kyzarc staggered to his feet and walked to the door.
“I will not fail you Stheran,” were his last words and then he was gone.
“I know you won’t” Stheran replied softly and he left to meet his advisors with something surprising, a tear rolling out his eye.

As he wandered through the streets of Arshnoc, Kyzarc started thinking of when they first came here. Over a decade before they had wandered into this province, a place filled with pointless bureaucracy and nonstop backstabbing. They had enforced peace between the nobles and overthrew the reigning emperor. They went among the people and set up a local democracy in the towns, becoming an oligarchy higher up, topped by them. They had stopped the Ancestor Worship, turning the potential power onto them instead. Magic had been allowed into the lives of the commoners, a fact that had saved them during the initial rebellion. Nonstop war had destroyed much of the incredibly fertile land and drove the peasants into the dirt. They had put a stop to this. Allowing weapons to be used, massive projects that cut unemployment, using the army for the benefit of the people by stopping bandits, and more were all reforms they had forced upon this land. And now this; Kathnesjac leaving just when they had finally triumphed. He had asked everyone who knew him but nothing, the Mages weren't able to scry him, the Thieves had lost track of his going, the only possibility was that he had gone out into the world, the alternative Kyzarc didn't dare think of. This would be harder than he had thought. Kyzarc resolutely marched into the setting sun, turning to countries unknown.

Kyzarc wandered through the Arshnocian countryside, asking everyone he met whether they saw a 20 year old man his height, carrying a staff, dressed all in green. Everywhere he went he got the same answer; No. Kyzarc passed through a town and heard cheering accompanied by recruiting drums. He waded through the crowd until he reached the main street. The street was packed with smiling men with packs. They were being followed by a dozen carts packed with supplies.
”What’s going on?” Kyzarc asked a cheering bystander. The bystander said something that Kyzarc couldn’t hear. “What?” He asked louder.
“I said we’re forming our own regiment! The Three Brothers will unite us with our brethren countries! Archnoc will become an empire again!” The man yelled at him and went back to cheering.
Kyzarc read one of the banners. “Stheran’s Spears is recruiting! Join the glorious army! The Three Brothers need YOUR help in making Arshnoc great again.” he read to himself and laughed derisively. “I see Stheran is keeping himself busy, only five years since the revolution and already he’s building an army.”
Kyzarc stopped at a local inn that was serving free beer to government employees, mostly soldiers, and showed his badge. “One beer please.” He asked the barkeep and moved to a table by himself. A man approached him, grinning.
“I hear you’re looking for a man about yeah high wearing green?” He asked.
“Yeah?” Kyzarc replied, an ember of hope kindling itself.
“Well, he’s been heading north last we saw him.” The stranger said.
“Why are you telling me this?” Kyzarc said, standing up.
“Patriotic duty!” the man said, Kyzarc looked dubious so he leaned over conspiratively. “Well, if you must know, he owes me some money.”
“Thank you, north you said?” Kyzarc said, finishing his beer.
“Yeah, north. And when you find him tell him that he owes me, Jan C’ar, 2000 yen.” and the stranger walked out the door.
Kyzarc marched out the inn and went north purposefully, confident that he had his first lead in weeks. Jan C’ar crossed the town and went to the town hall. He spoke casually to a shadow “he’s going north, now can I have my money?”
The shadow replied “let’s see, we agreed on… 1000 yen?”
“It should be more than that, that man looked dangerous. 2000 at least” Jan retorted. “Of course that man hasn’t left town yet…”
“2000? You think that lying to him was worth 2000 yen? Fine” The shadow tossed Jan a bag of coins. Jan caught the bag deftly and turned to leave. “Oh, and Jan? Before you leave…” Jan turned to the shadow and a sword appeared out of the darkness, piercing his heart. “No one blackmails me, especially two-bit criminals”
Jan stared at the sword in his chest and tried to scream but nothing came out. The shadow pulled its sword out of Jan’s body and grabbed the bag of money. The figure left the shadows and contemplated the newly recruited soldiers in the street. “Such a waste of young men, thank goodness I’m well out of it.” And Kathnesjac turned south, wiping the blood off his sword.

Stheran looked proudly out over a training field filled with men stabbing dummies, shooting targets, and blocking blows. The new regiments formed for the Arshnocian army were being trained with extreme alacrity. The cavalry was already ranked as some of the best in this corner of the world, outstripping the famous Seul riders. Stheran only wished his brothers were here to witness this triumph of his; he would have to stick with honoring them through less direct means. A figure approached Stheran from behind and coughed quietly. “Milord Stheran, the preacher you wished to see is here. He seems very impatient to meet you sir.” Stheran turned and smiled wearily at his trusted servant, and left with him to the audience chamber.
“All hail Stheran! Foremost of the Three Brothers! Lord Commander of Arshnoc! Uniter of the People!” the servant proclaimed loudly and he left the chamber. The preacher bowed worriedly, not knowing what to expect from Stheran. Stheran observed the preacher; shapeless grey clothes that spoke of poverty, a grey hood covered his face, a beaten staff made of scarred wood showed that he had traveled far; the hands that gripped said staff were shapely, almost feminine in their shape.
“What is your name, you who would preach in our names?” Stheran asked solemnly.
The figure quivered in fear, “My name is Deyna milord Stheran.” The preacher said in a high pitched voice. Stheran was taken aback; the preacher was a woman!
“Deyna you say? You preach for those you do not know, to those you have never met. You preach based on faith in us and faith alone. You preach for us as if we were gods, when we have always said we were mortal. I must ask why.” Stheran said, curiosity tingeing his otherwise calm composure.
“Because, milord, only the gods could have thrown out the corrupt bureaucracy. Only a god could have pulled together the people as you and your brothers have.” She replied, fear leaving her voice. “And only the gods would have the humility to deny their divinity.”
Hah, this is the kind of blind faith our people will need for the upcoming times Stheran thought. “Okay, you shall be allowed to live on the sole condition that you continue to preach, that you spread this religion of yours to the serfs and the peasants. This is the command of your lord, you are dismissed” he intoned and signaled that she was dismissed.
‘This is an interesting development, godship huh?’ Stheran thought derisively. ‘I hope this doesn’t go to my head’ and Stheran returned to the balcony overseeing his army.
Another courtier approached swiftly "Milord, there's a diplomat from Man Ch' wishing to talk to you about something called 'Ceramics', he is waiting outside."
One damn thing after another... Stheran sighed. "Allow him in."