The very essence of the world shuddered. Dark clouds formed funnels over the cities; the earth trembled; whirlpools swirled in the oceans. An ancient god has been resurrected! A terrible god. Priests, mullahs, rabbis, and other clergy shuddered with terror—they understood all too well what to expect from the return of the higher power, betrayed and slandered.
Because they were to blame themselves: for him to be resurrected, he had to be executed—an innocent great master. A master of sword, hammer, or pen. A master who, on the pyre, renounced people, Light, and Darkness. Once he had accepted Fire—in that one condition—only then did he come down into the world, becoming a single whole with the soul that called him. The Soul Master. The Black Smith.