The fury of a god is never frivolous.
Especially when he decides to punish someone.
The wrath of a higher deity is enough to devastate cities and rewrite ages. But... when does the supreme god himself rage?
The coming-of-age ceremony had been a spectacle of chaos. First, the revelation that a local god had twin sons — something already rare enough to leave any divine assembly on alert. Then, the fact that one of them has two Theiodesmos bonds, both ranking higher than his. And finally... the verdict: cursed. Rejected. Judged by the Herald himself.
That would go into the books. But not as an end.
It was just the beginning.
No one was allowed to leave the Temple of Erudition. The order was clear: to rescue the three young men — even if it meant contradicting the Herald's sentence.
"Does that make sense?", murmured a local goddess, amid the audience. "Why rescue someone declared unworthy?"
"Perhaps Ereghast sees it with good eyes?"
All turned to hear this name. The figure of Gaspar stood motionless before the statue of the supreme god. He did not kneel, did not retreat, did not look away from the higher gods sitting on their thrones. He stood there as a guardian before the empty throne, as if his soul belonged to Ereghast himself.
The higher gods were restless. Some murmured, others kept the features impassable, as if their masks hide thoughts too dangerous to be said aloud.
"This is nonsense!", Ruen grunted, clenching her fists. "Will you really challenge the Herald's judgment? The boy has been cursed. He cannot tread the divine path."
"The orders of the supreme god are absolute", answered Gaspar, his voice firm as the stone that supported the temple. "Will you contest them?"
"Don't be arrogant, wheat god. It's exactly that arrogance that got us into this mess."
Ruen's words had barely been silenced when the air began to vibrate.
The transport seal lit in the middle of the temple, and a crack opened in space as if reality was being torn from within. The energy that emanated from there was violent, unstable. Unlike any sacred portal known. That was not a return... it was a return.
Golden light mixed with purple mist escaped from the magic circle, accompanied by a heat that made the walls tremble. Krynt emerged from the portal — imposing, panting, eyes like glowing embers.
But he did not come alone.
Aries was in his arms, unconscious. His body carried deep cuts, the still fresh blood running between the plates of the broken armor. The other figure on his arm was Yvaine — equally unawake, the tunic torn, the skin marked by shadows that refused to disappear.
"Here they are."
Gaspar narrowed his eyes.
"Where is my son?"
The silence in the temple was immediate. Even the fire of the torches died down.
Krynt walked towards the altar without asking for passage. Each step echoed like a hammer — not only on the stone, but on the pride of all who still dared to raise their heads. Without looking at anyone, he knelt with the two young men in his arms and placed them in the center of the seal.
Yvaine was the first to react. Her body trembled as it touched the ground. A murmur of pain escaped from her lips before her golden eyes opened — and then everything around him seemed to hold his breath.
"He stayed behind" she whispered, her voice hoarse and weak, "You left him there..."
"Left him behind?", Gaspar clenched his fingers and looked up at Krynt, "What the hell happened, Krynt?"
No one answered.
The temple remained silent, as if everyone was waiting for the next condemnation.
Krynt kept his eyes down. He didn't apologize. He didn't justify it. And that said more than any word.
Yvaine tried to stand up, but her strength abandoned her. She fell aside, the silent tears marking her blood-stained face.
Gaspar approached slowly. His eyes rested on the two young men dropped as trophies of a war without glory.
"Cale Arkalis... was left behind." he murmured, as if reporting the fact to someone.
And then the temple groaned.
Not a common sound. Not the stone creak or the echo of steps. It was as if the world itself had held its breath, and when it let go, something broke.
A grey mist descended from above like a veil of mourning, touching the pillars and extinguishing the light. Ceremonial ribbons withered as flowers under winter. The stones vibrated under their feet. An invisible shock wave went through the structure, causing the stained glass to shatter without noise.
The Othea's sky, covered by a shadow without origin, seemed to collapse with a silence that hurt the ears.
The overwhelming divine presence made absolutely all bow before one who was not physically present.
The demigods fell to their knees. The local gods cried out in agony. Some priests went mad right there, muttering words disconnected as if they were with their eyes turned into their own destiny.
Ereghast had arrived.
Not in flesh. Not in voice. But in presence.
Immeasurable. Unstoppable. Absolute.
The higher gods collapsed in their seats, suppressed by a pressure that could not be measured. Ruen shouted, taking her hands to her head as if she was being torn from the inside. Quilyassa fell on her knees, blood running out of her eyes, nose, mouth. Krynt stood only by stubbornness and pride — but his fingers trembled.
And Gaspar...
It remained erect.
But tears flowed from his eyes.
The empty throne of Ereghast was no longer empty.
There was no body, no form, no shadow. But everyone knew. They felt. The supreme god was there — and he spoke in no words.
He was accusing.
And when finally the altar of the temple was broken in half like a cracked heart, no one dared to react. The statues of the higher gods exploded in fragments of marble, their faces reduced to dust. The structure of the Temple of Erudition gave way, collapsing as if it obeyed a sentence already written, slow, inevitable and merciless.
It was not an earthquake.
It was a trial.
And when it was all over — when the dust settled, when the sound returned to the world, when tears dried up on the faces of the survivors — there was only ruin.
And the absolute certainty:
Ereghast is watching.
.
.
.
The silence in the chambers was thick as smoke. Even the footsteps of the priests did not break the mood. Only the irregular sound of breathing and the poorly healed wounds filled the space.
Aries was lying down, still with parts of the damaged armor covering his chest. Strips of linen enveloped his arms and part of the face, where a deep cut still insisted on bleeding. But their eyes were open, stuck to the ceiling as if they were looking for answers that refused to come.
Yvaine sat in a nearby chair, her body firm but her soul far away. Her fingers rested on her knees, motionless, and her golden eyes stared at an undefined point on the ground, as if they saw another reality — a darker, more distant one. The loose hair fell on the shoulders, shaggy and dirty. There were dark spots on his robe, and it was not possible to tell if they were blood or shadow.
"This wasn't what I expected" Aries muttered, breaking the silence. "What, in the name of the gods, did we just survive?"
Could not take away from memory those purple eyes and the cry of pain of Cale. The scene in which Krynt used his sword to hurt a mere demigod... ah, it was a nightmare.
"We can't tell anyone about it", Yvaine muttered in response.
"How is it?! What is this nonsense?!"
Yvaine raised her golden eyes to him.
"We're not supposed to do anything until we get him back."
The door cracked. Alinys entered without ceremony.
She stood at the foot of the bed, staring at the two with a look too tense for the silence that dominated the environment. For a moment, only the three of them breathed in the same beat. Then Alinys broke through the void.
"Where is my brother?"
Nothing.
Neither Yvaine nor Aries answered.
"Don't make me repeat", her voice trembled, not of weakness, but of a rage that tried desperately not to turn despair. "Where is him. Where's Cale?"
Yvaine blinked slowly. Her lips opened, but no word came out. She just lowered her head. The shoulders fell as if they were about to collapse under an invisible weight.
Aries turned his face. Closed his eyes. He breathed a bitter sigh.
"He's still alive."
The sentence fell into the air like a stone.
Alinys took a step forward, chest gasping, but kept control.
"How can you be sure?"
"Because I feel." Aries turned his green eyes towards her. There was firmness. Pain, yes, but also something harder. "Because if he had died... I would know. And so would you."
Yvaine finally raised her face.
"The present is moving according to what was predicted. You may have been wrong to consider it a threat, but now we know that it is actually a key placed by the Universe."
"Key to what?" growled Alinys, more angry than scared.
Yvaine did not answer. She just reached out to where the small bright stars resurfaced, never having abandoned her before.
The world seemed to breathe with her.
The pain, the shadow, the chaos... for a second, everything was silent.
And then, as if that instant meant a promise, Yvaine whispered:
"He's still there. He's alive. I can check on him from time to time, and that will guide us for a while."
Sitting in bed, ignoring the pain of his own wounds, Aries clenched his fists.
"This is annoying. Being the Theiodesmos of a frail who was judged and exiled. And now we need to rescue him before he dies. Why can't things be simpler?"
"Are you guys serious?" Alinys asked, surprised, her voice pressed as if she had held the scream for too long. "Do you want to go back... to exile?"
"If you aren't helping, then don't get in the way", growled angry Aries. "This damn bond keeps pulsing as if pulling me towards him. It is suffocating not to be near him."
That feeling of incompleteness still existed inside Aries. Only now he knew very well the reason. Clenching his fingers tightly, he raised his eyes fiercely to Yvaine.
She just nodded silently. After all, they knew very well what had to be done.
Don't give up.