Riel lay in bed, rotting from the inside. He didn't want to move, to try, to do anything.
This was what trying earned him: pain — pain he didn't deserve. Why was this his life?
He felt so weak. He was so weak.
Tears tracked down his cheeks; every scrap of courage he mustered was crushed and ground to dust.
He resented the world. He resented the gods. Why had he been cursed to feel this?
But he was too broken even for rage; his anger barely flickered. He was just empty.
Riel continued to stare at the ceiling, blank, dissociated from the world around him. The creatures only he could see writhed in the corners of his room, shadows twisting in silence. He paid them no mind.
Thud. A knock at the door.
He didn't move.
Another knock, sharper, impatient.
…
This time, there was no knock.
Kaelith barged in.
"Why are you lazing around?"
Riel kept staring, hollow.
"Oi!" Kaelith barked, standing over him. "What's wrong with you?"
Riel's lips barely moved. "How did you get in here?"
"Your mom let me in," Kaelith said with a mischievous grin. "Thanked me, actually, for dragging your sorry hide along. She's grateful, you know, unlike you."
He clapped his hands, voice bright. "It's time to train. No more sulking in bed." He grabbed Riel's arm and began hauling him upright.
Riel's voice cracked, listless. "I think you've made a mistake, Kaelith. I don't think I can do this. I don't want to hold you back."
"Pssh." Kaelith snorted, dismissing the words with a wave. "I chose you, Riel. Stop doubting yourself all the bloody time. I've known you since we were knee-high, and you've been my friend my whole life. Who else would I choose?"
The morning sun streamed in, catching Kaelith's golden curls until they seemed almost divine. His eyes, bright as starlight, locked on Riel's with silent encouragement.
And for a moment, the weight in Riel's chest eased. Not gone; but lessened. He couldn't let down the people who still loved him.
He let Kaelith pull him to his feet.
The two adolescents dressed and set off, walking together toward the empty fields at the edge of town.
Kaelith had always been talented, Riel thought. Top of the class, the closest one to godhood. He was, after all, a God's Chosen—destined for greatness since birth. An acolyte of the Silver Veil, yet touched by Infinite Dawn, he was a warm light that somehow carried the moon's glow within it.
Riel couldn't even remember how their friendship began. It felt as if Kaelith had always been there through every shadow, through every fleeting joy. A constant.
They reached the field, the sun hanging high, its heat pressing down on them.
Kaelith slipped into a fighting stance. "Show me what you've got."
And so they fought.
Acolytes were stronger than most in both body and soul. They hadn't yet begun their Ascension, but even so, they could brush against the supernatural.
Riel dashed forward, chain in hand—his weapon of choice. With a flick of his wrist, the links uncoiled like a serpent, hissing through the air to bind Kaelith.
Kaelith slipped aside, fluid, his claymore flashing free. He swung with terrifying force.
Clang!
The chain snapped taut, catching the blade and parrying it aside. Sparks bit the air as the two broke apart, circling, eyes locked in a cold standoff.
This time, Kaelith moved first. He dropped low and charged, bull-like, his claymore whistling. Riel lashed the chain at him again but Kaelith twisted past, closing the distance.
The sword came down, not with the edge, but the flat.
Thwack!
The blow struck Riel square, hurling him backward. His body slammed into the ground, dust rising around him.
Kaelith pressed forward, each swing of his claymore a tidal wave of force that sent Riel stumbling back, heels digging into the dirt just to stay upright.
Desperate, Riel snapped his chain forward, wrapping around Kaelith's wrist. For a heartbeat he thought he had him but Kaelith flexed, the steel links groaning before snapping free. The sudden yank nearly tore Riel off his feet.
Gritting his teeth, Riel retreated, fumbling for the talisman he'd crafted in class. The slip of parchment burned against his palm as it flared with silver light, fusing to his chain. Runes of no mortal tongue flowed across the links, each mark thrumming with borrowed divinity.
Kaelith only smiled. "Good."
He reached into his own satchel and pressed a talisman to his claymore. At once the blade blazed with pale lunar fire, silver tongues of flame licking along the steel.
Riel tried to outthink him, whipping the chain low, coiling it around Kaelith's ankle. The claymore wavered as Kaelith stumbled, one knee dipping. Victory sparked in Riel's chest—
—but it died just as quickly.
Kaelith drove his claymore into the earth to steady himself, then seized the chain with his bare hand. The runes seared his flesh, the heat burning into his palm, yet he didn't even flinch. With a single savage tug, he yanked Riel forward like a ragdoll.
White light exploded in Riel's skull as Kaelith's knee slammed into his face. He gagged, vision blurring.
Then Kaelith's fist crashed into his jaw, sending him sprawling across the field. Dust billowed as he hit the ground hard.
"You did well, Riel," Kaelith said, his voice calm as he extended a hand. "But we have a lot of work to do."
Riel clasped it, hauled to his feet. He dusted himself off, lips pressed tight in frustration. His chain hung slack at his side, the runes dimming back into silence.
"You didn't even break a sweat," he muttered, bitterness coating every word.
Kaelith's only answer was that same warm, maddening smile.
After the spar, the boys kept at it, hammering away at their bodies and refining their weapon skills until their arms felt like lead. The hours bled away with every strike, every parry, every breathless clash, until the sun fell from the sky. The last of its glaring heat slipped beneath the horizon, and in its wake came cool twilight. Exhausted and drenched in sweat, the boys dragged their aching bodies through the streets of town.
All around them, life carried on with careless ease. Their peers filled the streets, laughing, flirting, celebrating freedom. The school year, long, brutal and unrelenting, was finally winding to its end. Everyone else seemed to know exactly where their path led: some preparing to ascend and chase divinity, others resigned to mundanity, content with being something more than an ordinary Joe but never brushing the edge of godhood.
The moon rose, washing the streets in a silver glow. Its light caught the moonstone lanterns hanging from posts and balconies, the gems glowing faintly with a haze of pale light. Eternal Ocean of Silver, the god's patron gemstone, shimmered like captured moonlight, painting the town in a soft, divine sheen. Kaelith and Riel walked in silence through the town center, appreciating the beauty that blanketed their world.
But Riel's eyes shifted. He could not hold onto beauty for long. The longer he stared, the more the edges of reality twisted. From the corners of buildings, from the hollow gaps between alleys, from shadows that should have been empty—horrors slithered free. Eldritch shapes unfurled, twisting and writhing as though they had always been there, waiting for his gaze to catch them. More appeared than normal, it was if they were waiting for something.
The streets filled with them. Abominations no one else could see, populating the town with madness.
Then came the whispers.
At first, they were faint; a hiss at the edge of thought but soon they grew, louder, heavier, until they clawed at his skull. The sound wasn't quite a scream, wasn't quite a whisper. It was both at once. And beneath it all, he recognised the presence.
The behemoth. The same one from yesterday. Back again.
It shrieked.
The noise tore through the world, a sound no mortal mouth was meant to form. The very air rippled as if wounded by the sound. The countless horrors that had gathered screamed in unison, their agony bleeding into his own. Pain lanced through his head, sharp and merciless. His ears rang, his vision shook. He clutched at his skull as if it might split apart under the weight of that impossible voice.
"Riel, are you okay?" Kaelith asked, watching him clutch his head in agony.
"I'm fine," Riel forced out through gritted teeth. "I'll see you tomorrow, all right, Kaelith?"
"Are you sure you don't need my help?"
"I said I'm fine," he growled, though the pain only worsened.
He staggered toward his house, each step chased by the chorus of horrors shrieking in his mind—a symphony of agony only he could hear. From the shadows, the behemoth watched his retreat with a mad, glinting eye. Above, the moon hung aloof and cold, uncaring.
Neither the waking world nor his dreams would offer him salvation. Once again, he was utterly alone.