Chapter 14: The Journey Beyond

Narathion stepped through the infernal gate, the scorching heat of hell still clinging to his cloak, as if reluctant to let him go. The cold winds of the mortal realm hit him like a slap, sharp and biting, but he welcomed it. He had faced the darkness in its deepest, most twisted form, and yet, the truth he carried felt heavier than any burden he’d ever borne. With a single motion, he conjured a portal, the shimmering rift a fleeting crack in the fabric of reality. It was the only way forward.

His destination: Wreich, the ancient city of gods. Its towering spires and gleaming structures stood at the center of the realms, where the air itself hummed with divine power. The gods of old resided there, overseeing the delicate balance of the world. Narathion knew he had to reveal the truth to them—no more hiding, no more playing the games of the gods. The time for deception had passed.

He stepped through the portal and into the heart of the divine city, greeted by the towering gates of Wreich. A mix of suspicion and reverence hung in the air, the gods always watching, always judging. Mortals rarely crossed into their sacred domain, but Narathion was no ordinary mortal. His place had been earned through sacrifice, through strength, and now, with the weight of his revelation, he would find out if it was enough.

As he walked toward the high council of gods, his footsteps echoing in the tense silence, the familiar faces of those who once called him their equal watched him with unreadable expressions. At the center stood Stannard, the god of peace and justice, his sharp gaze fixed firmly on Narathion. “You’ve returned, but not with good news, I sense,” he said, his voice a quiet rumble.

Narathion met his gaze, his voice heavy. “The truth about Arthur’s death is darker than you realize. And Nyxar—the god of darkness—was not the traitor you thought him to be. I ordered him to retrieve the Pendant of Omnipotence from Valhira.”

A collective murmur rippled through the gods at the mention of the pendant. It was a relic of unimaginable power, something spoken of only in whispers.

“Valhira?” Iris, the goddess of light and wisdom, asked, her brow furrowing in confusion. “That name has not been spoken in centuries.”

Narathion’s gaze hardened. “Yes, Valhira—once the land of the gods, now lost to storms and shadows. It was there that Nyxar was sent to retrieve the pendant, before it fell into the wrong hands.”

The gods exchanged uneasy glances, but Narathion’s next words silenced them all. “But Arthur died in the process. The pendant’s power was too much for him to control. And the force behind it... is something we cannot ignore. The cover-up, the mission to send him to the Forest of Yiet—none of it was by chance.”

A quiet fell over the room. The gods of Wreich had witnessed countless conflicts, wars of light and dark, but this was something else. Something deeper. A force beyond their understanding, neither of light nor darkness, and its tendrils stretched far farther than they had realized.