Chapter 4:
The air inside Caelum's hideout was dense with the scent of parchment and ink, the walls lined with shelves of worn books, their spines faded from years of use. Candles flickered in iron sconces, casting long, wavering shadows that seemed to dance along the walls like ghostly figures. The dimly lit room was a sanctuary of sorts, a place of hidden knowledge and forbidden truths. Ashen could feel the weight of history pressing against him as he stepped inside.
Caelum motioned for them to sit at a large wooden table in the center of the room, its surface cluttered with maps, scrolls, and ancient tomes. The priest—no, warrior—moved with a quiet intensity, his every motion deliberate, as though he were always on alert, prepared for an attack at any moment. He did not look like a man who had once served in the high temples of Solis; instead, he looked like someone who had been scarred by battle, someone who had seen things the world was not meant to witness.
Ashen took a seat, feeling the weight of the situation settle around him. The shadows in the room seemed to grow darker as Lira joined him, her expression serious. Caelum stood by the table, his hands clasped behind his back, eyes calculating.
"You both understand what we're up against," Caelum said, his voice steady and low. "Malthor isn't just a king. He's a parasite, feeding off the fear and power of the people. His reach extends beyond Solis, beyond the borders of the kingdom. And his soldiers—his 'Templars'—are fanatical, unwavering in their loyalty."
Lira spoke next, her tone urgent. "We need a plan. If we're going to stop him, we can't do it alone. We need more than just us three."
Caelum gave a grim nod. "I've been gathering information from the shadows, but even my sources are limited. There's only so much you can do when you're outnumbered and outmatched by Malthor's forces."
Ashen leaned forward, feeling an unfamiliar restlessness stir inside him. "You said something earlier, about Malthor stealing power from the gods. How did he do it? And why me?"
Caelum's eyes narrowed. "That's the question, isn't it? Malthor's rise to power wasn't a simple one. He wasn't content to be a mere mortal king. After the fall of the gods, he sought something more. Through dark rituals and forbidden magic, he made contact with an ancient entity from the void—a being far older than even the gods themselves. Some believe it's the source of his power, the thing that grants him the unnatural strength he wields."
Lira shifted uneasily in her seat, her fingers tapping the edge of the table. "And what does that have to do with Ashen?"
Caelum's gaze turned to Ashen, his eyes filled with something akin to awe. "Azrael... you were more than just a god of light. You were the god of the balance, the keeper of harmony between the realms. If anyone could threaten the entity Malthor has made a pact with, it was you."
Ashen's mind raced, his chest tightening as Caelum's words settled in. Balance. Harmony. The weight of those concepts was something that had always been a part of him, but now they seemed so distant, so unreachable. "I remember fragments of my past—visions, echoes—but nothing clear enough to understand. The balance… I was supposed to protect it, wasn't I?"
Caelum nodded gravely. "Yes. But it wasn't just the balance of this world that you guarded. You were the one who maintained the delicate equilibrium between the mortal realm and the void—the realm of darkness, where that entity resides. Without you, the balance faltered, and that's exactly what Malthor wanted."
Ashen stood abruptly, his chair scraping across the stone floor. "So, I'm the key to stopping him?"
Lira placed a hand on his arm, her touch grounding him. "Not just you. But you're the only one who can access the divine power Malthor seeks. That's why he'll stop at nothing to find you."
The room fell silent, the gravity of the situation sinking in. Ashen's mind was a storm of questions and fears, but one thing became clearer with each passing moment: he had been given a second chance, not just at life, but at redemption. If the entity Malthor had bargained with was the source of his power, then Ashen—Azrael—was the only one who could challenge it. But could he?
"I don't even know where to begin," Ashen muttered, rubbing his temples as though to push the thoughts away.
"You begin with what remains of you," Caelum replied, his voice firm. "We need to unlock the divine power within you. Without it, Malthor's forces will be too much for us to handle. And the longer you wait, the stronger he becomes."
Ashen looked down at his hands, the same hands that once held the light of the heavens, now reduced to nothing more than fragile flesh. Could he truly reclaim the power that had been ripped away from him? Was there even a way back?
Lira's voice interrupted his spiraling thoughts. "There's a place. A temple hidden deep within the ruins of the old city, beneath the mountain passes. It's said to house relics of the gods, artifacts that could help unlock your power. But getting there won't be easy. Malthor's spies are everywhere."
Ashen looked up, meeting her gaze. "And how do you know about this place?"
Lira's eyes darkened. "I've been searching for a way to fight back ever since I left the clergy. The temple was one of the last places the gods held dominion over. If there's anything that can help you, it's there."
Caelum spoke again, his tone laced with caution. "But it's dangerous. Many have sought the temple before and never returned. The gods left their power behind for a reason—no mortal should be able to wield it."
"I'm not mortal anymore," Ashen said, the words leaving his mouth before he could stop them. The fire in his chest, the flickering of something long forgotten, surged within him. "If I was once a god, then I can be one again."
Lira looked at him, her expression unreadable, but something in her eyes flickered—uncertainty, maybe, or hope. "If anyone can do it, it's you. But be careful, Ashen. The temple may hold what you seek, but it could also be a trap. And Malthor won't let you go there without a fight."
Ashen's gaze hardened, his resolve solidifying. "Then we'll fight."
Caelum shook his head. "We don't have the numbers for an open war. Malthor's army is too powerful. But we can strike at the heart of it. If we can retrieve the relics from the temple, we might have a chance to turn the tide."
The plan was set—fragile, uncertain, but their only hope. As the shadows of the room seemed to press closer, Ashen felt a stirring deep within him. The path ahead was fraught with danger, but there was no turning back now. The god of light, once fallen, would rise again. And this time, nothing would stand in his way.
"Tomorrow, we move," Ashen declared. "We find the temple, and we take back what was stolen from me."
Lira and Caelum exchanged a brief glance, then nodded in unison. There was no more room for hesitation. The time for whispers had ended.
The echoes of the past were calling. And Ashen, the fallen god, was ready to answer.