Kael's eyes flew open, his body jerking awake with a ragged gasp. His chest heaved, each breath sharp and desperate, his heart hammering in his ears. Wildly, his eyes darted around, taking in the familiar surroundings — the faded curtains, the old wooden floor, the soft creak of the house settling in the early morning quiet.
Home.
He was home.
For a moment, Kael just stared, blinking in disbelief. His pulse still raced, the remnants of the nightmare clinging to him like a cold sweat. Slowly, he gulped, his throat dry and tight.
It had all been a nightmare.
Then, from below, a sound drifted up — soft, fragile, like a whisper carried on the wind.
A melody.
Her melody.
Kael's breath caught in his throat, a sob choking his words. The familiar hum, that sweet, simple tune she always hummed while knitting, while cooking. It reached him like a thread of light in the darkness, pulling him down the stairs, faster, nearly stumbling in his haste.
He reached the bottom, and there, in the dim glow of the living room, sat his grandmother. Her back was to him, her shoulders hunched slightly as she leaned forward in her old rocking chair, knitting needles clinking softly in her hands. The familiar, rhythmic motion. The hum.
For a moment, the sight of her, so ordinary, so peaceful, overwhelmed him. Tears welled in his eyes, spilling over as his knees buckled. He could barely stand, the relief so sharp it nearly brought him to his knees.
"Grandma…" His voice came out broken, small — like the boy he thought he had left behind long ago.
She didn't answer. Didn't turn.
She didn't stop humming.
A chill ran through him, icy fingers tightening around his heart.
He took a step toward her, his legs unsteady, as if the floor beneath him might give way. He wanted to rush forward, to fall into her arms, to sob into her lap like he had as a child, to beg her to never leave him again. His throat burned with the weight of everything he couldn't say.
But just as he neared her, just as he reached out, his hand trembling with the need to touch her, to feel her warmth — it happened again.
The barrier.
An invisible wall slammed between them, hard and unforgiving, forcing him back. Kael staggered, his breath catching in his throat. His fingers grazed the air, but it was like trying to reach through stone.
"No… no, please," Kael whispered, his voice trembling. He slammed his fists against the unseen force, his sobs tearing from his chest. "Not again. Please, not again. Grandma, answer me!"
The humming stopped.
Her hands stilled. Her knitting needles fell silent. The soft creak of her chair as it rocked came to a halt. The silence rushed in again, heavier, darker than before, pressing down on his very soul.
"Everything happens for a reason, Kael," she said, her voice calm, almost serene.
Kael's breath hitched. She still didn't turn to face him, her back stiff and her voice distant.
"I will always be grateful to the deities for blessing me with you," she continued, her tone warm, but laced with a sadness that twisted something deep inside Kael. "For allowing me to raise you."
Her words were a knife to his heart. He didn't care about reasons, about fate. He just wanted her. He took a shaky step forward, and then another, desperate to break through whatever kept them apart.
"Grandma…" His voice cracked, tears streaming down his face as he begged. "Please, look at me. Please…"
She stood slowly, her movements gentle, unhurried, as if time had no meaning here. Kael's breath caught in his throat as she finally turned to face him. Her eyes — those soft, loving eyes — met his, and for a brief, agonizing moment, he felt the warmth of her gaze again.
She stepped toward him, and this time, the barrier didn't stop her. Her hand reached out, brushing lightly against his cheek, and Kael froze, terrified that if he moved, if he even breathed, she would disappear.
Just like last night.
Just like his mother.
He was ready to be a statue his entire life if that meant his grandma would be with him.
Her touch was soft, so real, and Kael's heart nearly shattered under the weight of it.
He didn't dare move.
But then, as quickly as that warmth had come, it began to fade. A shadow passed over her face, darkening her soft features. Her eyes flickered, and Kael saw fear, deep and consuming, fill them.
"Help," she whispered, her voice trembling.
Kael's heart stopped. His stomach dropped. He took a step forward, but she took several back, the fear in her eyes growing.
"Grandma?" His voice was barely a breath, his chest tight with terror.
The room darkened around them. The warmth, the light, all of it faded, replaced by something twisted, grotesque.
The walls were no longer the familiar wood of their home, but covered in dark, creeping vines that snaked across every surface. The house looked wrong — warped, decayed, as if time itself had abandoned it. The air smelled of damp earth and rot, the darkness pulsing with an unnatural energy.
Vines shot up from the floor, wrapping around his grandmother's ankles, climbing her legs, binding her wrists. They slithered over her like living chains, pulling her back, pulling her away from him. Her eyes glowed red, bright and furious, as the vines coiled around her mouth, silencing her once again.
"No!" Kael screamed, pounding against the barrier, but it held firm.
Her body was lifted off the ground, suspended in the air like a puppet, her limbs contorted in unnatural angles. The vines tightened around her, squeezing, constricting, dragging her toward him — closer, closer — until she was just inches from his face.
And then everything went black.
Kael gasped for air, his body lurching violently as he woke, the world spinning around him. He coughed, rain pouring down on him, soaking his clothes, the cold biting into his skin. His lungs burned, his chest heaving with every breath as he tried to make sense of where he was.
The mountain. The Temple of Zarae.
Kael lay at the base of the temple's steps, his body limp against the cold, unyielding stone. Every bone ached, his muscles heavy as if gravity had doubled in strength.
For a moment, all he could do was stare upward, blinking through the downpour as the sky wept with him. His mind was slow to catch up, to process the silence, the stillness.
It was over.
The nightmare, the vision — whatever hellish torment had seized him — was gone. But the pain wasn't.
His grandma was gone.
The realization hit him like a blade to the heart, and the agony ripped through him so violently he doubled over, clutching his chest as if trying to hold the pieces together. But it was too late — the dam had broken, and with it, Kael shattered.
The sobs tore out of him, raw, jagged, as if each one was being dragged from the deepest pit of his soul.
His chest heaved, throat burning as he gasped for air between the sobs that came faster, harder, and more desperate. His fingers dug into the earth beneath him, but there was nothing solid left for him to hold on to.
The storm raged around him, the rain battering his body, soaking through his clothes, but he barely felt it. The cold numbness in his heart was far worse.
He lowered his head, forehead pressing against the stone, his tears mixing with the rain that poured endlessly from the heavens. The sky itself seemed to mourn with him, a vast, unfeeling expanse that cried out its own grief.
Every drop that splashed against him felt like a reminder — a reminder that he had lost everything. His home. His grandma. His world.
He thought of her — his grandma. Her smile, the warmth in her voice, the way her hands had always been steady, always there to hold him when the world seemed too vast, too cruel. The smell of her stew, the sound of her hums, the way her eyes crinkled when she laughed. All of it was gone, ripped away like pages from a book that could never be rewritten.
A scream built in his chest, but it wouldn't come out — it stayed lodged in his throat, choking him, as the rain pressed down harder, as if trying to crush him into the stone.
His soul felt like it was slipping away, crumbling into dust beneath the weight of his grief.
And still, the world kept spinning, uncaring, relentless.
"Why?" he gasped, his voice a whisper, barely audible over the storm. "Why me? I did everything so why —"
He wept, his body trembling with the force of it, the sobs wracking his frame so violently that he could hardly breathe.
Kael's tears slowed, not because the pain had lessened, but because there were no more tears left to give. He was empty. Hollow. His sobs faded into quiet, broken gasps as he lay there, his body utterly drained.
The night was thick with shadows, creeping closer, as though even the darkness wanted a piece of him. And Kael, kneeling there in the rain, offered no resistance.
What was left to fight for?
What deity could one worship when to reap the fruit, he had to sow his soul?
The shadows drew nearer, and the world spun darker. He didn't fight it, didn't resist when the void threatened to swallow him whole. He closed his eyes, letting the darkness seep in, willing it to take whatever was left of him. His heart, his mind, his soul — all of it could go.
He had nothing left to give.
Just as the last flicker of hope dimmed, a voice pierced the storm.
"She loved you more than anything."
Kael froze.
Kael froze, the voice deep and ancient, reverberating in his very bones. It was not cruel, but neither was it kind. It held the weight of centuries, a power so vast that Kael felt insignificant beneath it.
His heart pounded in his chest as he glanced around, searching for the source. But there was no one, nothing but shadows.
"She fought everything to save you then," the voice continued, its tone commanding, almost fatherly, "so why, instead of avenging her, do you break now?"
Kael's breath caught in his throat. His eyes darted across the storm, searching, but all he saw was darkness. In the distance, two gleaming eyes watched him from the shadows, their gaze cold, unblinking.
"Who are you?" Kael's voice trembled, both in fear and defiance, but no one answered.
The eyes narrowed, and the voice came again, this time, from deep within him. "You bear the weight of the Pantheon now. You fear it, you perish. You accept it, you live and rule. The choice is yours, Kael."
His head throbbed painfully as the words echoed in his skull, each syllable pounding in his mind like a war drum. The storm, the rain, the world around him — all blurred together, leaving only the voice. And the choice.
Was he losing his mind?
He didn't know. But when the thunder finally quieted and the storm's rage began to settle, he knew one thing. He had nothing left to lose.
His grandmother had fought to save his life. Now, he would destroy everything to bring her back.
He vowed to himself.