Far above the realms of existence sits the exalted. Zenobios rests upon a throne not of this world—a seat of gold and diamond unknown to any reality. To mortals it would be nightmare or revelation, but to him it is routine. His cheek leans lazily on his palm. He looks bored. Or amused.
He turns his gaze to the right. A girl stands there—once human, now something more, admitted among the exalted. She has been staring into the Pool of Reflections, entranced by the oath-taker below, and barely notices him.
"What is your name, child?" Zenobios asks.
Startled, she turns, struggling for words. "I… I…"
He repeats, voice gentle but firm. "What is your name?"
"I… I don't remember," she admits, ashamed. Whether from the overwhelming vision or some higher will erasing her past, she cannot say.
Zenobios chuckles softly. "You may have forgotten, but I haven't. I merely wanted to see if fate is still at work."
He looks back into the pool. "I am meant to know all things. Yet there are gaps. I know everything, yet somehow, I do not."
The paradox only deepens her confusion, but she stays silent.
"Tell me," Zenobios continues, "why did the relic choose you, and not…" He almost says *son*, but stops. "Not him?" He gestures toward Vyrian's reflection.
She glances between them, unsure. "Sire, I—"
"Sire?" he interrupts with a soft laugh. "So formal."
Her cheeks flush. Once clothed in rags, she now wears a robe of white and gold, celestial and regal, yet it feels strange upon her. Stranger still is how this god's warmth unsettles her.
She finds her voice. "Am I… dead? Did I die?"
Zenobios smiles faintly. "Death is only a phase. You have surpassed it. You are no longer bound by mortality."
"But—"
"I know. It is sudden. You were never meant for this. Yet here you stand beside me, watching what no mortal was ever meant to see."
He stares into the pool, where Vyrian raises his sword in defiance. "They once held thrones. They defied the code of gods. Pride, envy, wrath, greed—consumed by sin. I stripped them of their rights, but gave them a chance to reclaim them. This one," his eyes remain on Vyrian, "may have failed."
The girl begins to understand. Slowly, the pattern forms.
Zenobios's tone sharpens. "The Piece of Eden chose you instead. Perhaps fate favors drama."
The pool echoes with Vyrian's vow: *Father, I will strike you down.*
The girl watches Zenobios carefully. Now she sees it—their connection. And with it comes guilt. Was she the reason?
Zenobios raises his hands, studying them. "I am not a reliable judge. The Piece of Eden sees clearer than I. I had hoped to see him redeemed. Perhaps I was too… affectionate."
Memories stir—days before enmity, when Vyrian was only a son.
Zenobios rises from his throne with measured grace. He steps toward the pool and lifts his hand, pointing at Vyrian's image. "I admire the courage to defy the heavens…"
His eyes darken. "But you are still eons away from even my smallest gesture. Fool."
The pool goes black. The vision ends. Without another word, Zenobios leaves the chamber, abandoning the girl in silence and unanswered questions.
***
Below, Vyrian still stands with his sword aimed at the sun. His vow complete, his strength wanes. The pain surges. His vision blurs.
"Argh!"
His body collapses forward into the sea. The storm swallows him whole.
Has death finally come?
[Prologue End]