Corven found himself standing upon clouds.
Literal clouds.
How? He wasn't entirely sure.
The Sun shone brilliantly overhead while beneath his feet stretched an endless sea of white, like an ocean made of cotton. Wisps of cloud drifted lazily around him, forming a thin, ever-reaching mist, while the blue heavens above were eternally painted in shades of orange, pink, and even faint purple. The sky was as annoyingly bright as ever to Corven—but for once, he barely cared.
No. Something else had completely stolen his attention.
A woman sat upon a white-and-golden throne before him.
She looked strangely familiar. Painfully so, even, though Corven couldn't place where he might have seen her before.
Golden-blond hair flowed around her, carrying pearl-pink and white iridescent undertones that shimmered whenever they caught the light. Her eyes were even stranger, their irises an almost otherworldly mixture of pearl-pink, white, and gold. Light-tan skin seemed to glow beneath the surrounding radiance, while enormous golden-white wings—practically angelic in appearance—stretched majestically behind her, formed from radiant light itself.
Her aura shone with brilliant golden light. She wore a flowing white-and-gold dress embroidered with intricate golden lining, while upon her head rested a crown of gold and white light, elegant and unmistakably fit for a queen.
Yet despite everything about her appearance screaming divinity and royalty, Corven felt no arrogance from her.
The air surrounding the woman was peaceful. Tranquil. Yet undeniably regal and noble. Her light seemed all-enriching and all-welcoming, bathing everything around her in a warmth that invited rather than demanded reverence. There was an unexpected humility to her presence—something that contrasted almost completely with Aether's self-aggrandizement and ego-fueled pride.
Corven understood almost immediately what kind of person stood before him.
She was peaceful by nature.
A nurturer, not a show-off.
And somehow, that remained true even as the nearly 4.7-meter-tall woman rose from her throne and floated before him, her enormous wings spread behind her as feathers of golden-white light gently broke away and fluttered upon the celestial winds.
'She reminds me of Celeste…,' Corven thought, distractedly. 'Maybe older…?'
"I would hope so, little brother," the lady smiled brightly at Corven and he had to remind himself to breathe, for it was so similar to Celeste's smile that his mind momentarily saw no difference between the two. "Hello, Corven. I am Hemera — Goddess of Day, of Hope, of Light. Lady of the New Dawn, the Breather of Life and the Beacon of the Rising Sun Even After A Night In Darkness."
Hemera tilted her head in the way Celeste typically does when she was amused by something only she seemed capable of seeing or comprehending.
"You can just call me Hemera or Older Sister. I am Celeste's mother,"Her grin brightened somehow even more, before sharpening like a blade. "We need to talk."
Corven gulped.
He wasn't sure what they needed to talk about, but he had a feeling it wasn't going to be all sunshine and rainbows even with the progenitor of light itself.
[Jabari Ausar]:
ROARRR!
Jabari raced through the forest, using the surrounding shadows to conceal their retreat as best he could while carrying the unconscious and heavily wounded J.C. with Marxes' help.
So much had happened within the last five minutes that Jabari could scarcely keep track of it all.
First, there had been the Darkness—something so immense that it had blotted out the Sun itself before mysteriously retreating only minutes later. Then came the beasts hunting them, a problem that was very much still happening. Four Tier SS Shadow Wolves had pursued them straight into an ambush by three Tier SS Shadowflame Bears, and the resulting clash had left J.C. so severely wounded that Jabari genuinely wasn't sure whether he would survive the night.
They had no nectar drops left.
Celeste was nowhere near them.
And J.C. was getting worse.
The wounds covering his body were already becoming infected, and Jabari could smell it. His sharp canine nose—one of the many traits inherited from being a jackal-like son of Anubis—picked up the foulness spreading through J.C.'s wounds with horrifying clarity. Every passing minute made the scent stronger.
And somehow, the bastard still hadn't woken up.
Thankfully, Cimon had found them during the chase and immediately used his dream powers against their pursuers, flooding the beasts with supernatural exhaustion. Jabari was fairly certain nearly half of them had fallen asleep from Cimon's abilities alone—an absurd feat, especially for someone only at Chaotic rank.
Unfortunately, Jabari didn't exactly have time to stop and appreciate the accomplishment
'Half of them stayed asleep, but those three bears and four wolves are still chasing us,' Jabari thought as he tore through the darkness, his shadow affinity concealing what little remained of their trail.
He glanced sideways at Marxes, who was helping him carry J.C.'s limp body.
Every jolt of their movement disturbed his wounds.
Every second J.C. remained unconscious made Jabari's stomach tighten further.
'He won't survive much more of this movement. And if he doesn't wake up soon… he might never wake up at all.'
Jabari clenched his jaw and forced himself to run faster.
'This is bad. This is so, so bad. We need to find Celeste. She can heal him—even with the infection. She has to.
Overhead, Cimon followed close behind, his silvery-grey wings beating through the night air as streams of silver miasma poured from them in his wake. The strange mist washed over their pursuers, steadily dulling their movements. Each breath they took seemed to make the beasts slower, sleepier, more lethargic.
But they were still coming.
And J.C. was running out of time.
Yet still, Jabari and Marxes ran. They did not stop. They knew stopping meant sudden death. They kept running. They had to. So they did.
They ran.
Tp Celeste.
To Corven,
To help.
[Coven Umbrovante]:
'I am Celeste's Mother. We need to talk."
Two sentences that seemed to make the moisture inside his mouth dry up, the beat of his heart to increase and gave him pause.
Corven has battled his way through countless monsters. He's overcome immeasurable odds. He's faced a literal god before in confrontation and survived. Hell, his own brother was the literal creator and embodiment of Death itself…
Yet none of that made him quite as nervous as meeting with Celeste's mom, who seems to have caught on to such nerves, given her slight head tilt and amusement in the eyes.
There's no need to be nervous in my presence, dear brother. I only want to talk," Hemera's voice was like a melody, soothing, with a slight giggle in her harmonious voice. She radiated a natural calming effect that also seemed to affect Corven somehow, making him more relaxed, more centered, more comfortable. He became less nervous, less antsy, more at ease the longer she spoke. "I'm not my brother-husband; I have class, but that's not why I've called you here.
"No, I've called you here for a few things.
"First, to look upon the man who has captured my daughter's heart."
Hemera's gaze became ever studious, with Corven's heart racing despite Hemera's passive calming effect. The hairs on his arm raised as the goddess looked upon Corven with a searching gaze.
Corven wasn't sure what the goddess could've possibly been searching or. His ideals? His beliefs? The type of person he was? His past? Corven wasn't certain, but, whatever it was that she was searching for, she must've found, as she soon then smiled, turning her searching gaze into a pleased one. She smiled — A genuine smile, which Corven was beginning to see a blur of difference between her and Celeste's, despite his eyes knowing this was Celeste's mother.
It was…disarming… And slightly embarrassing.
"You truly are our father's son," her words startled Corven, causing him, briefly, to balk a bit before he reigned in his shock. "That's good. Means Peter's choice in betrothals weren't in vain nor idiocy… You will face great threats, experience both triumph and tragedy. You must overcome what trials come your way, brother, becoming stronger in the process — especially if you intend to protect my daughter."
"I will always protect Celeste,"Corven said in unflinching conviction. "You have my word on that, just as Peter has it."
"Hmm…," the goddess merely hummed thoughtfully.
"Speakaing of Peter," Corven verbalized a thought, causing Hemera to raise a brow. 'He was important to Celeste — He was her father. He's…sick. You're the goddess of Health, right? Celeste's mother? Can't you heal him?"
Hemera looked physically wounded by the question, releasing a heavy sigh as she seemed to consider her words. "Gods are restricted from too many direct interactions with mortal fates, little one —- And Primordials, even more so. Gods can interact through descensions, avatars or through our most devout followers. For us primordials, though, because of our power, we don't necessarily need followers, we can do pretty much the same but with much greater restrictions. We have more freedom to do these things through and to our primordial spawns but that is the limit for the mortal domain…At least for us. If Peter Luminaris were one of my children, then I would be permitted to aid him. Sadly, he isn't."
Corven's hope shattered."Well, that's stupid rule," Corven muttered.
"Yes, well, I won't argue with that," Hemera stated, with a sigh. "What I will say, however, is that you can still save him. It's not too late."
"How?" Corven was all ears.
"The Golden Fleece of Chrysomallos—or, rather, one of the winged golden rams from which such a fleece originates—has somehow found its way onto the Mortal Plane," the goddess revealed with a smirk, her features somehow managing to appear bright, innocent, and mischievous all at once. "There will soon be an auction held somewhere in your world. You will find the creature there… Or what remains of it, anyway."
"Golden Fleece…Got it," Corven said, mentally making a note in his head of it, before looking back at the goddess. "And what was the other thing you wanted to talk about?"
"Your enemies are accumulating, Coven Umbrovante," Hemera said, suddenly serious, all mischief from before gone in an instant. "From the Devil Worshippers of the Infernal Guild to the one known as Peter Luminaris and his followers. Your once-bully of a cousin plots against you even now — He may well end up being your greatest foe, but they aren't all.
"The House of Lycaon—the Original Family of Werewolves—has caught both your scent and Celeste's. They have already sent their mortal hunters after you. And you would do well to remember that Pallas Lycaon was a reincarnated and resurrected soul. When you faced him, he possessed nowhere near the power he wielded during his first lifetime."
Her gaze hardened upon Corven.
"The wolves who follow will not share that weakness. Eventually, they will come for you. They will come for Celeste. And they will not stop simply because you survived the first hunt."
"You must become stronger, faster, more powerful than at the rate you are now. You both must. Or neither of you will survive long enough to ascend, even with father's blessing.'
Nodding, as ig to himself, Corven realized that he could no longer hold off on raising his cultivation. "I see," was all he said. 'When I return, I'll go into seclusion… Maybe, right after the Auction, I should break it into Peak Demigod rank, and then, before the Shadow Conclave, I could make it to Chaotic rank…'.
With this plan in mind, he planned to follow through with it, too. He could no longer get caught lacking from a lack of power. In this world, strength was everything and he had no desire of being pushed around by stronger opponents.
"Good, you seem to gasp the importance of progression. Perhaps there's hope for you yet," Hemera had her hand to her mouth as she giggled, before fixing Corven with a brightened expression that sharpened with focus. 'Now that that is sorted, its on to my main reason for summoning you here; blessings. Its finally my turn to bestow them upon you. Come closer, little brother."
Corven wordlessly took a steep forward, his heart racing faster and faster in anticipation. With a simple hand to Corven's forehead, light blossomed at Hemera's point of contact.
"I gift you 3 blessings, my child — three blessings and a boon," Hemera spoke, her voice carrying an almost ethereal resonance that ricochet against the eternally bright and cloudy skies, as if spoken by a goddess, which, ironically, it was. "I gift you Life Generation and Life Storage — Both blessings will remain mostly sealed until your ascension to godhood, by which time you'll have complete usage of said blessings. I gift you a third blessing — A drastic boost in you natural healing factor — And that of your Shadowborn as a species in whole. It will be passive and will grow with you.
"Andmy boon is this," with a simple touch to Corven's forehead, a scroll was etched into his very soul. "With this scroll, you will gain a one-time access to the Spirit Realm, where you'll be able to contract one elemental spirit. I have a few to spare, so I'm sure you could make use of at least this one, no?"
Corven was shocked.
He hadn't expected such gains from one encounter with a divine being. Hell, with Aether, he was sure he'd have to defend himself. Yet, with his wife, it was…different. A good different but different nonetheless.
She was generous in her gifts. Aether was, too, but Corven was sure that guy just did the bare minimum out of some sense of responsibility or whatever tradition this family had. That said, Hemera's gifts were no doubt greater in worth than anything Aether had dredged up for him.
Corven could feel the blessings—and the purposes behind each of them—etching themselves into his mind, soul, and very being. Though two remained beyond his reach for now, he could still feel their presence buried somewhere within him, dormant but undeniably there. The third, however, was different. Corven realized it had already woven itself into the more accessible parts of his being, seamlessly integrating with his existing abilities as though it had always belonged there.
Only then did Hemera slowly lift her palm from his forehead.
Life Generation essentially allowed Corven to create life from nothing, though what form of energy he knew not, as he was not yet privy to it in reason that it was a sealed blessing.
Similarly the Life Storage ability seems to store life essence and maybe souls, from what little Corven was able to perceive of what of it wasn't sealed. He was sure there was greater use to the ability, but he also knew that as he was now, he didn't nearly have enough power to perceive its purposes nor access the uses of at full potential. And he wouldn't have it either, not until he ascended, according to the goddess, so Corven tried his best not to really worry about it too much at the moment.
Furthermore, his healing factor had been drastically enhanced, alongside with his Shadowborn species. Now he was certain he could tank hits from low to mid level Legendeary ranked beings as a Demigod ranker and still survive…or he won't instantly die from a few hits from them, anyway. He wouldn't yet be able to beat one single-handedly — At least, not by himself, anyways, but that hardly mattered at the moment, especially considering Corven had no intentions of staying at the same level for much longer.
"Be well, my littlest brother," Hemera's words brought Corven from his thoughts, making him realize he had zoned out from the weighted depth of his own thoughts. The realization caused him to redden. Hemera merely giggled at Corven's blush of embarrassment. "Keep your promise. Get stronger alongside my daughter. Oh, and your circle is currently in danger. I would advise you to return right now if you don't want them to die."
"ok…Wait, wha—?" Corven began, but Hemera cut him off.
"Well, this was fun…..Mmm-kay,bye!" and, with a wave her hand, Coren fell beneath the clouds, jolting awake with a sudden gasp — And even before he gathered his barrings, he knew something was up, for, before him, were the beaten and bruised unconscious forms of his friends.