For a few days, everything really was calm.
Too calm.
And knowing us, that could only mean one thing: chaos was just catching its breath.
The city of Vaelor seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. The portals had closed, the skies were blue again, and even Torin, the tavern owner, looked genuinely happy.
Well, almost happy.
"I can't believe I'll finally go a whole week without fixing the roof!" he said, cleaning glasses behind the counter.
"Don't say that out loud, Torin," I warned. "The universe listens."
Vespera raised her cup. "Yeah, and it answers way too fast."
Liriel, in her spiritual form, floated above the table pretending to read a book. "You mortals are so superstitious."
"Which is funny, coming from someone who literally created half those superstitions," I retorted.
She gave a faint smile. "Details."
Elara was flipping through the grimoire, focused. "The runes that sealed the throne have completely vanished. But Celine's energy… hasn't."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Her link with the throne wasn't severed, only… put to sleep. Something inside her still pulses with the same power."
"You mean it could come back?"
"I mean it will come back, unless she learns to control it."
Liriel sighed. "I knew it wouldn't be that simple."
That's when the ground shook — softly at first, then stronger. The city lights went out one by one, and a cold wind swept through the streets as if the sky itself had stopped breathing.
Elara looked up. "Oh no…"
The sky split open in golden cracks. At the center of them, a shape began to form.
It was Celine.
But something was different.
She descended floating, her face serene — but her eyes… empty. Completely golden.
Her body radiated divine energy in waves, and the ground beneath her feet cracked with every step.
"Celine?" Liriel asked, approaching. "What are you doing here?"
Her voice came calm, almost sweet. "Just finishing what I started."
"Out of control again?" Vespera teased, readying her bow.
Celine turned her gaze to her. "No. In control, for the first time."
The silence that followed was thick. Even the wind stopped.
"I finally understood what the throne wanted," she continued. "Balance won't come through destruction… but through fusion."
"Fusion?" I asked, suspicious.
"The planes should no longer be separate — the divine and the mortal must unite. One realm, one order."
Liriel took a step forward. "You're talking about erasing the boundary between worlds."
"Not erasing. Integrating. No suffering, no death, no chaos."
"No free will either," replied Liriel.
Celine extended her hand. "You always sought freedom. I want to give that to everyone — freedom from fear, from pain, from uncertainty. Eternal peace."
Liriel shook her head. "That's not peace, Celine. That's silence."
For a moment, they just stared at each other. It was like watching two forces of nature in tension — order and chaos holding their breath before the storm.
Elara whispered to me, "If they start, the city won't survive."
"Then we better run or pray."
"We don't have time to pray."
"Then run."
The first impact came like thunder.
Celine raised her arm, and a golden pillar of light tore through the sky.
Liriel answered with a blue surge cutting through the air.
When the two energies collided, the whole world seemed to split in half.
Houses shook, windows shattered, and the ground beneath our feet cracked open, revealing streams of light beneath the city.
"ELARA!" I shouted. "Barrier now!"
She raised the grimoire, sweating. "Protego Mundus!"
A translucent field formed around us, protecting the tavern — and part of the square.
Vespera looked, impressed. "Okay, now you really look like a powerful mage."
"Don't distract me!"
Outside, the two goddesses clashed in the sky. Liriel, still in her spiritual form, radiated pure blue. Celine, golden as the sun.
They exchanged blows that tore through the air, turning clouds into ash and lightning into flowers.
It was beautiful… and terrifying.
"You don't understand!" shouted Celine, blocking a beam of energy. "Everything I did was to protect creation!"
"Protection isn't control!" Liriel replied. "You want to shape the world in your own image — and that's never love."
Celine hesitated. For a second, the glow around her flickered. But then, a second voice echoed — not hers, but from the air itself, deep and distant.
"Balance must be maintained."
Elara's eyes widened. "The throne… still lives inside her."
"It lives through her," I corrected. "It's using Celine as a body."
Celine's gaze changed — cold, mechanical. "Balance requires sacrifice."
"That's the throne talking," whispered Liriel.
She flew toward the other, the impact forming a flash that blotted out the sun for an instant.
When the light faded, the two were high above, beyond the clouds, trapped in a vortex of energy.
"Takumi!" shouted Elara. "The connection between them is overloading the mortal plane! If it continues, the entire world could merge with the divine one!"
"Can we stop it?"
"Only if we destroy the source — the fragment of the throne inside Celine."
"And where exactly is it?"
Elara looked upward. "In her chest."
"Of course. Always in the worst possible place."
Vespera drew a special arrow, wrapped in blue light. "If I hit, I can break the bond."
"And if you miss?"
"They'll turn into cosmic dust."
"Oh, great. No pressure."
Meanwhile, in the sky, Celine and Liriel floated face to face, breathless.
The energy between them made the air vibrate.
"I tried to be like you," said Celine, tired. "But I realized it was impossible. So I decided to be better."
"And in the process, you forgot who you were."
"I became what the world needed."
"The world needs humanity, not perfection."
Celine hesitated. A flicker of emotion crossed her eyes — and that was when Vespera fired.
The arrow cut through the sky like a blue lightning bolt.
It hit right in the center of Celine's chest.
The impact was devastating.
A scream echoed — a mix of pain and relief. The golden light exploded, sending waves of energy that illuminated the entire continent.
Elara and I were thrown back, the protective field shattering.
When I opened my eyes, the sky was ablaze with golden flames. Liriel floated alone, holding something in her hands — a small, pulsing fragment of light.
"It's the heart of the throne," murmured Elara, rising to her feet.
Celine was falling slowly, unconscious, but alive.
Liriel descended, landing beside me.
"Is it over?" I asked.
"Not yet. This fragment still pulses. If it's destroyed, all its power will dissipate. But if it's absorbed…"
"You could restore your body?"
"Yes. And maybe balance both planes once and for all."
"And the risk?"
"Everything."
I looked at her and understood what was coming. "Not again."
She smiled. "I learned from you how to make foolish choices."
"Don't call it foolishness."
"Then call it hope."
Liriel closed her eyes and pressed the fragment against her chest.
The ground trembled. Light swallowed everything once again.
When the brightness faded, the sky was clear. The wind gentle.
And Liriel… was there.
Standing. Whole. Human.
She looked at her own hands, astonished. "I… came back?"
"With a body and everything," said Vespera, incredulous. "And without blowing anything up!"
Elara dropped to the ground, exhausted. "A miracle."
Celine, still lying down, opened her eyes. "You… saved me again."
Liriel approached and reached out a hand. "No. This time, we saved each other."
The two looked at each other for a moment — golden and blue light blending into a soft glow.
Celine gave a weak smile. "Maybe balance isn't perfection. Maybe it's accepting chaos as part of it."
"See? I was right all along," teased Liriel.
"You're unbearable, even as a savior."
"So they say."
Back at the tavern, Torin was already waiting at the door.
"Please tell me the world didn't end."
"Almost," I replied. "But we fixed it along the way."
"I should start charging admission for people who save reality."
Liriel laughed — truly laughed this time. A full, living laugh that filled the room.
She grabbed a bottle, poured herself a drink, and raised her glass.
"To us. To the stupid mistakes that save the world."
Vespera toasted. "And to the roofs that still stand."
Elara smiled. "And to the mana I still have left — little, but loyal."
Celine, sitting in a corner, watched in silence. When our eyes met, she simply said, "Thank you."
Liriel nodded. "Balance is restored. For now."
"For now?" I asked.
She looked to the horizon. "Chaos never sleeps, Takumi. It just takes vacations."
I smiled. "Then, while it rests, we might as well drink."
"Now that's something a wise man would say," she replied, laughing.
And that night, among laughter, bottles, and improbable stories, the mortal and divine worlds coexisted in peace — even if only until the next disaster.
Because deep down, we all knew:
true chaos never ends. It just changes form.