"A god does not die when their body breaks. Or when their power fades. Or even when another god strikes them down."
Lazarak seemed truly unnerved now. Damon was not sure if it was the nature of this place, the trial of truth, or maybe the mirror seraph's power still lingering in the air, but Lazarak seemed terrified even with his calm expression.
"We live as long as someone believes we matter. That is our heartbeat. That is our breath."
He swallowed. He was here before man, before people, so why did being remembered even matter to him? It shouldn't.
"And that is why I am terrified."
The darkness around him flickered.
"I am the god of peace, Damon. Peace is not loud. It is not worshipped. It is not sung in temples. It is not carved into monuments. Peace is the thing mortals want… until they have it. And then they forget who gave it to them."
He clutched at his chest as if something inside was hurting.
