Once, he was Kael—the God of Balance, guardian of harmony between light and shadow. But envy breeds betrayal, and the gods he trusted shattered his divinity, casting his soul into the void.

Instead of vanishing, Kael awakens in another world—reborn as a mortal child named Eryndor. For the first time, he feels hunger, weakness, and fear… but also love, friendship, and the warmth of a family he never knew as a god.

Yet fragments of his divinity linger. Beasts bow before him. Ancient ruins respond to his touch. The heavens whisper of his return. When a test of magic reveals powers beyond mortal comprehension, the truth can no longer be hidden—a fallen god walks among men once more.

As new gods rise and old enemies stir across dimensions, Eryndor must decide:

Will he embrace mortality and protect those he now calls his own?

Or reclaim his throne as a god and risk repeating the cycle of betrayal?


The fate of two worlds lies in the hands of a child who was once a god. And this time, Balance may bring not only judgment… but a new dawn.

The moon was sharp that night—white, unblinking, cutting through the clouds like a blade.


Seliora stood alone by the riverbank, the same place she'd first met him. Her reflection shimmered on the dark water, golden eyes dimming to human brown as she whispered an ancient hymn.


"I had to," Eryndor said, his voice steady but heavy. "Because you keep making me question everything."


Her lips curved faintly. "Isn't that what truth does?"


"No. Truth sets you free. You… you're chaining me in doubt."


She finally turned, the air bending faintly around her as her wings—hidden for so long—unfurled in spectral light.


"I was sent to guide you," she said softly. "But not by your enemies."


Eryndor's eyes narrowed. "Then by who?"


At her words, the river trembled. Mist coiled around them, taking the faint shape of symbols older than the stars.


"The Pantheon fears your awakening. But Balance—your former essence—fears what will happen if you stay mortal too long. The world bends around you, Eryndor. Every choice you make tears at the laws of magic and fate alike."


He shook his head. "You're lying. You want me to abandon them—to become what I was."


"I want you to remember why you fell," she whispered. "Not all gods fall from pride. Some fall because they loved too deeply."


Eryndor saw flashes—memories buried deep—of fire, betrayal, and a woman with golden eyes weeping as his divinity shattered.


Seliora's expression softened. "The one who begged the heavens to spare you."


Silence hung heavy, the air charged with sorrow and confusion.


Eryndor took a step back. "You… were there. You knew everything. And still you lied to me."


"I had to," she said. "If I told you the truth too soon, your mortal soul would've broken under it."


He clenched his fists. "Then maybe I deserve to break."


The river surged, glowing faintly with his power—raw, uncontrolled, and divine.


Seliora's wings trembled. "Eryndor, stop—!"


But he didn't. His aura cracked the stones beneath his feet, and for a brief moment, the heavens themselves seemed to tilt.


Above, in the unseen realm, something ancient stirred. The Pantheon had felt it—the rebirth of a god no longer sleeping.


Chapter 17 - The Veil of Truth