Kain woke with a start, the taste of dirt in his mouth and a sharp pain radiating from his side. He was lying on his back in the middle of the forest, the faint light of dawn filtering through the trees. The events of the previous night came rushing back like a flood—Seris, Orin, the gods, and that terrible figure cloaked in light.
"You're alive," a familiar voice drawled.
Kain turned his head and saw Orin leaning against a tree, his dark leathers torn and streaked with blood. His mismatched eyes gleamed with a mixture of exhaustion and triumph.
"What happened?" Kain asked, struggling to sit up.
Orin tossed him a waterskin. "You passed out. Again. Do you make a habit of fainting during life-or-death situations, or is this just a new thing?"
Kain ignored the jab and took a long drink. The cool water soothed his parched throat, but it did nothing for the questions swirling in his mind. "The figure... the one in the clearing. Who was that?"
Orin's expression darkened. "A god," he said simply.
Kain's hands tightened around the waterskin. "Which one?"
"Does it matter?" Orin asked. "They're all the same—powerful, manipulative, and dangerous. And now, thanks to that little stunt you pulled, you're on every one of their radars."
Kain shook his head. "I didn't ask for this. I didn't choose—"
"Doesn't matter what you chose," Orin interrupted. "The moment you touched the Luck of Gods, you became part of their game."
"Game?" Kain spat, his frustration boiling over. "This is my life! Not some game for them to play with!"
Orin's gaze softened, just a fraction. "I know," he said quietly. "But the gods don't see it that way. To them, mortals are pieces on a board, tools to be used—or discarded."
Kain stared at the ground, his fists clenched. "Then what am I supposed to do? Fight them?"
Orin let out a bitter laugh. "You? Fight the gods? That's a quick way to get yourself killed."
"Then what?"
Orin sheathed his blade and stepped closer, his tone serious. "You survive. You learn the rules of their game, and you use them to your advantage. It's the only way."
Kain frowned. "And you're going to help me?"
"For now," Orin said with a shrug. "I've got my own reasons for keeping you alive."
Kain didn't like the sound of that, but he had no choice. He was in over his head, and Orin seemed to be the only one who knew what was going on.
"Fine," Kain said, pushing himself to his feet. "What's the first step?"
Orin grinned. "Now you're asking the right questions."
---
They traveled in silence for hours, the forest growing denser as they moved further from the cavern. Orin led the way with an ease that suggested he had walked these paths a hundred times before. Kain followed close behind, his thoughts racing.
The gods were real. Not just stories told to keep children in line, but real beings with power beyond comprehension. And somehow, he had gotten tangled up in their world.
"Where are we going?" Kain asked eventually.
"To find someone who can help," Orin replied without looking back.
"Another one of your friends?"
Orin smirked. "Something like that."
They emerged from the forest into a rocky clearing. At its center stood an ancient stone altar, its surface cracked and weathered by time. Strange symbols were carved into the stone, similar to those on the tablet Kain had touched.
"What is this place?" Kain asked, a sense of unease creeping over him.
"Safe," Orin said, though his tone lacked conviction. He knelt by the altar and began tracing the carvings with his fingers, muttering words Kain didn't recognize.
The air around them grew heavy, and a low hum filled the clearing. The carvings on the altar began to glow, the light spreading across its surface like fire catching on dry wood.
"What are you doing?" Kain asked, taking a step back.
"Calling in a favor," Orin said, his voice strained.
Before Kain could ask what he meant, the light from the altar flared, forcing him to shield his eyes. When the glow faded, a figure stood atop the altar.
It was a woman, her form shimmering like heat waves on a summer's day. Her features were sharp and elegant, her eyes like twin stars. She wore robes that seemed to shift and flow like liquid gold.
"Orin," she said, her voice resonating with power. "I didn't expect to see you again so soon."
"Desperate times," Orin replied, standing.
Her gaze shifted to Kain, and a faint smile played on her lips. "And who is this?"
"The mortal who awakened the Luck of Gods," Orin said.
The woman's smile widened. "Interesting."
Kain shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. "Who are you?" he asked.
"I am Eira," she said, inclining her head. "A servant of balance. And you, young mortal, have upset it in ways you cannot yet comprehend."
Kain scowled. "I didn't mean to."
"Intent is irrelevant," Eira said. "What matters is what comes next."
"That's why we're here," Orin said. "He needs your help."
Eira raised an eyebrow. "And why should I help him?"
"Because if you don't, the gods will tear this world apart to get to him," Orin said.
Eira considered this for a moment before nodding. "Very well. But know this, mortal—there is always a price for meddling in the affairs of gods."
Kain met her gaze, his voice steady despite the fear gnawing at him. "What kind of price?"
Eira's smile turned cold. "That remains to be seen."
---
End of Chapter Three.