Mortals cannot gaze upon them, nor welcome them, only bow in deference as the Great Ones pass through the dense forest to the clearing's edge.
The old man with the lantern leads the way, followed by a youth clad in a silver robe, and lastly a woman in a black robe.
The Guardian attempted to rise from the far end of the long table, but his body could not move.
"It's been several millennia since I attended such a feast."
The three deities seated themselves at the table, and the benevolent old man placed the oil lamp upon it, causing tiny fireflies to dot both the table and the woodland. Their faint yellow glow was not bright, yet sufficient to illuminate the place.
Silently, the black sludge receded under the sun's radiance, while green grass and fresh flowers spread around the long table's center, and the earth temporarily returned to normal due to the deities' powers.
