The Shattered Crowns

"The face I glimpsed was not a face," Eld began, his voice quiet, measured. "Faces have features—eyes that vary in shape, mouths that stretch into unique smiles. But what I saw… those elements weren't there. Where eyes should have been, there was only crystalline white. Not a blankness, but something alive. It covered the sockets, fractured like the shards of a thousand shattered mirrors. Each fragment reflected visions layered over one another. It could have filled the entire sky, yet I saw only the briefest glimpse… a flicker of myself standing in Reem."

Eld's gaze turned distant, his voice lowering as though he spoke more to himself than the others. "It was her smile that truly marked her as something divine. It was not a smile as we know it, but something more—like our shattered moon, Titan. Splintered, fragmented, as if showing a million futures all at once. Futures I could never comprehend. She studied me then, not as a god observing a devotee, but as something far beyond—watching a creature so insignificant it barely warranted her attention. And yet… she looked at me. Through me. It felt as though I had been dissected, peeled apart layer by layer until there was nothing left she did not know."

Eld paused, his fingers brushing against the edge of the table as if steadying himself. "In that moment, everything changed. Knowledge surged into me like a tidal wave, but with it came agony, as if my body was being burned from within."

A faint twinge of pain pulsed at the edges of Akash's mind, unbidden. "You minuscule creatures cannot even bear to look upon such gods…" Nakba's voice coiled like smoke in his thoughts, dripping with derision.

Akash shot back silently, "You're one to talk, trapped as you are in one of the creatures you mock so easily."

"For now," Nakba retorted before retreating into the shadowed corners of Akash's mind.

Eld's voice cut through the tension. "I pleaded with her, desperate. 'What are you?' I begged. But she didn't answer. She only… watched me. I begged until my throat burned, until my eyes could barely stay open as smoke filled my lungs."

His tone dropped to a reverent whisper. "And then… she spoke. Her voice was like a breeze brushing against the edge of a storm—soft, but impossible to ignore. She said, 'It would come at a cost.'"

The table fell silent. Even Vyn, usually quick with a quip, stayed quiet.

Eld's eyes glimmered with something between awe and sorrow. "Perhaps it was the fire, or my desperation, but I nodded. I told her I would accept the cost. I felt pride in that moment, foolish as it seems now. The god revealed herself then—her true form, if only for an instant."

His voice dropped to a trembling whisper. "She had four arms. Her body was whiter than the rings of Lorian, her form wrapped in fabrics lined with gold that looked as if it had been poured from the heavens themselves. One of her legs was crafted entirely from gold, shining brighter than the moons. It looked as though it had been forged from the hidden stars. Even in her human-like shape, her presence overwhelmed me. The visions she granted grew harsher, sharper. My mind absorbed too much at once, and the weight of it… it destroyed my hearing."

Eld tapped his ears softly, his expression somber. "That brief glimpse—those fractured visions—left me with scars I'll carry forever. I woke to the feel of cold water and the sight of Pureblood elves standing over me. The god Mentis had marked me, and she had imparted one command: find Reem. I obeyed, even without my hearing."

Vyn crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing in thought. "A divine being punishing their followers. Makes you wonder sometimes, doesn't it?"

Eld tilted his head, his gaze unwavering. "A divine being willing to show even a fragment of their form is humbling, Vyn. The punishment was not cruelty—it was consequence."

A silence settled over the table until Eld spoke again, his voice soft and inquisitive. "And what of you, Angel of the Red Sands? Surely, you follow the ways of Reem."

Akash's mind flickered to a flash of crimson hair and a warm smile, memories of his mother. He hesitated before answering. "Nothing so grand as meeting a god," he admitted. "My mother used to tell me stories of Kalla and their god, the one who forged the flaming mountains. I'd give anything to hear her talk about them again. The villagers, though… they spoke of the Great Shifters—giant snakes that protected us. But personally, I think I'll stick with the First God King. He's more of an ideal to strive for."

"Fascinating," Eld replied, his tone reflective. "Kalla and their gods are certainly unique among the pantheon of Lorian."

Before Akash could respond, a loud slam startled the table. A young woman with auburn curls and a face freckled like the sands of dawn planted her hands on the table, glaring. Fallen immediately stepped to Akash's side, his body coiled to strike.

The girl's half-lidded eyes narrowed. "Who do you think you are, bothering my Sovran with these pointless questions?"

Lyra's voice was sharp. "Zadeen, apologize before you anger the Ukari."

"And why should I?" Zadeen snapped, glaring at Akash. "He's the one monopolizing my Sovran."

Lyra's expression darkened as she gestured to Fallen. "Because he could crush you with one hand, and the saber-tooth tiger at his feet could finish the job."

Zadeen practically bristled but said nothing, her glare still locked on Akash.

"Enough," Eld interjected calmly, standing. "They've been pleasant company. That's all." He turned to Akash and gave a small bow. "It was an honor, Angel of the Red Sands. Let's speak again soon." With a nod to Zadeen, he guided her away.

Later that morning, Akash found himself in the center of the training yard. Jassin stood before him, his blade drawn, the light of the sun glinting off its edge.

Akash charged, his weapon meeting Jassin's in a sharp clash. Sparks scattered as steel ground against steel.

"Good," Jassin said, his tone measured as always. "Your swings have improved." He flicked his blade, expertly parrying Akash's attack and throwing the younger man off balance. A moment later, Jassin's shoulder rammed into Akash's chest, forcing him back.

Akash gritted his teeth, bracing his legs to stand firm, but a swift strike from Jassin's blade caught an exposed section of his arm. Pain flared as blood trickled down.

Sparks flew again as Akash retaliated, his blade cutting through the air in a smooth arc. His strikes were relentless, driven by months of rigorous training, but they were still predictable to Jassin's practiced eye.

"You spend too much energy in your blows," Jassin lectured, sidestepping another swing.

"If I don't press the attack, you'll cut me down," Akash countered, his breaths coming faster.

Jassin's expression didn't shift. "Then defend better."

Their blades clashed again, but Jassin's feint to the left broke Akash's rhythm. Another clean strike sliced across Akash's armor, biting into his side.

"You're impatient," Jassin chided. "Wait. Read the attack. Then move."

Akash scowled but refused to yield. His blade locked with Jassin's as he stepped in close, using the opening to press his weapon against Jassin's neck. A triumphant grin spread across Akash's face. "If I hadn't taken the opportunity, I'd have lost."

Jassin, however, remained unimpressed. "And yet, you did lose." His blade hovered behind Akash's neck, ready to strike.

Akash sighed, flicking his hair aside. "Fine. A tie, then."

Jassin shook his head. "The master…" he motioned to himself, "…always moves first."

"And you're starting to sound like Vyn," Akash muttered, earning a rare smirk from Jassin.

"Good," Jassin said dryly. "Then maybe you'll actually listen when I tell you to parry properly. Now again, Akash. Mount Pyre won't forgive sloppy swordplay."