Chapter 12 – Fractures in Heaven and Earth
In Breya
The battle's scars ran deep across the village. Roofs caved in, walls cracked, and the ground where Kaelith fell still smoked as if the earth itself remembered the clash.
The villagers gathered in the square, their eyes never leaving Eryndor.
"He saved us," one farmer whispered.
"No," another hissed. "He brought this doom to our doorstep."
Some looked upon him with reverence, bowing as if before a young god. Others pulled their children closer, fear twisting their faces.
His foster father stepped forward, voice shaking but firm. "He is my son. And he bled for you."
That silenced them—for now. But Eryndor saw it in their eyes. Doubt had taken root. Fear, worship, suspicion—seeds that would only grow.
Later, as he sat outside with Aethros, watching the stars, his voice broke.
"I protected them, but still… they fear me."
Aethros rested a hand on his shoulder. "Power divides as much as it saves. This is the curse of gods reborn. Do not let their doubt define you."
Eryndor clenched his fists. Then I'll prove it. Not just to them… but to myself.
---
In the Pantheon
The High Halls trembled with rage.
The God of War, towering and armored, shattered his throne with a blow of his fist. "Kaelith was forged to slay titans! And yet a child cast him back! Balance is a disease—one that must be purged!"
The Goddess of Silence spoke softly, her words like falling snow. "Perhaps the disease is not the boy… but our fear of him."
The Serpents of Fate writhed upon their coils, hissing in unison: "The scales shift. The thread bends. The boy walks toward a destiny neither light nor shadow can bind."
Murmurs filled the chamber until Solenya, the High Goddess, raised her hand. Her golden eyes burned with something sharper than fury—curiosity.
"Then we shall not strike blindly again," she declared. "If brute force fails, we will test his heart. We will send not soldiers… but temptations."
The God of War growled. "And if he resists?"
Solenya's smile was cold as dawn breaking over frost.
"Then we will break what he loves instead."
---
Between Two Worlds
Eryndor dreamed that night of golden chains binding the stars, of a shadowed hand reaching for his foster family, of his village burning under divine fire.
He woke with sweat on his brow, the weight of destiny pressing heavier than ever.
The Pantheon had not finished with him.
They had only begun.