A/N - Thank you, miracle sanford, Shakyamunie, & Jonathan, for becoming God of Velmoryn's Patrons!
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I won't be able to dodge this.
My instincts screamed at me. Every part of my body wanted to curl in, to shield the vulnerable spots with my arms and brace for impact. But I forced that reflex down and kept running, eyes locked on the stone arc ahead. It wasn't far. Just a few more steps. If I could reach it, I would survive.
But the dragon's fire was almost on me.
I tried to use Phantom Step. I reached for it, but the skill refused to trigger. The torrent of flame barreling toward me was too wide, too bright. It erased every shadow in the range of my skill, making it impossible to blink.
There was only one way I could survive this.
Please work. Please work.
I kept repeating the words like a chant, a desperate rhythm in my head as the heat pressed in around me. The temperature spiked with every heartbeat. The fire wasn't just close anymore, it was right behind me.
I risked a glance back from the corner of my eye.
All I could see was a roiling mass of orange flame. The dragon's form stood behind it, distant and yet undeniably present. Its gaze met mine - there was no excitement in those eyes, just a cold, indifferent focus.
Then the fire swallowed me whole.
I winced, clenching my teeth as I expected pain. But instead of burning, I felt something else - a sudden, enveloping sensation. Crimson energy erupted around me, shielding every inch of my body. A magic barrier formed just in time to save me from the claws of firebreath as the heat slammed into the magic shield, rolling off harmlessly.
The necklace Aria had given me was glowing now, floating slightly above my chest, its enchantment finally triggered.
I didn't know how long the barrier would hold. Maybe seconds. Maybe less. But I didn't need much time. The arc was right there. If I could just reach the exit, if I could touch it, I'd be gone.
Behind me, the dragon moved again. It didn't hesitate, didn't roar, didn't show frustration. Just acted.
It leapt.
The room had felt massive to me, a cavern of stone and echoing space. But to a creature that size, it might as well have been a bird cage. There was no space for flight, no room to maneuver, and spread its huge wings. However, the dragon did not care. It launched itself across the chamber, wings folded against its sides.
But that lack of space gave me something.
As it soared overhead, the massive body cast a shadow, and in that shadow, Phantom Step finally answered.
I blinked to the side, reappearing just beyond its landing point. It crashed behind me with a sound that shook the stone beneath my feet. By the time it turned, I was already gone again, another shadow-warp carrying me farther, and then a third.
I didn't waste time looking back. The arc was in front of me. I slammed my hand against the center, practically pounding on it like I could force it to activate faster.
Come on, come on… open!
The dragon must have sensed it. Maybe it knew what the stone arc did, or maybe it simply recognized my desperation. It reared back, mouth opening wide, and unleashed another blast of flame.
But the arc responded before its breath could reach me.
The stone shimmered and turned transparent as I dove through the opening the instant it appeared, without sparing a glance for what lay beyond.
Whatever was waiting on the other side couldn't have been worse than what I'd just left behind. But even inside the room, I wasn't safe.
The door isn't closing.
The fire was still coming. It would spill through the open entrance any second now.
I kicked off the ground with my hands, pushing myself upright, and ran along the wall, trying to get as far from the entrance as possible.
But as I moved, I realized the room was circular. Dozens of stone arcs were scattered around the perimeter, etched on the wall. Running in a straight line wouldn't help. The dragon's breath could cover the entire chamber with ease.
I glanced at one of the stone arcs, considering diving into it, but then the fire surged through the entrance behind me, powerful and fast. Activating the stone arcs would have taken too much time.
That's when I saw it.
A fountain in the center of the room.
I dove toward it without a second thought, not even managing to hold my breath properly before plunging in.
Fully submerged, I turned over in the water and looked up. Within seconds, everything above was painted crimson, the dragon's breath slamming into the surface.
The water was cold, at first.
But not for long.
Heat seeped in fast. The deeper it burned, the hotter it got, until my skin started to sting and redden. My eyes burned so badly I had to squeeze them shut, pressing my eyelids together to dull the pain.
Staying under became harder with every second. The heat. The pressure. The rising urge to breathe. I clenched my nose and mouth with both hands to stop myself from inhaling water.
I can't hold it any longer…
I finally gave in, bursting out of the fountain, gasping like I'd never breathed before. My lungs screamed. I kept my eyes shut, bracing for the burn - but it didn't come.
Carefully, I opened them.
The fire was gone. There was nothing flammable in the room, and without fuel, the dragon's breath had vanished almost as quickly as it came.
I survived.
I exhaled in disbelief, slowly relaxing my fists as I turned and confirmed that the entrance was sealed shut.
The smile of relief and happiness appeared on my face. This was the closest I had ever been to death. But sadly, the danger was not over yet - this dungeon itself was threatening my existence.
I should rest a little…
I stepped away from the fountain that had just saved my life, casting one last glance at it with something close to admiration. Now that I wasn't scrambling for air or dodging fire, my eyes caught the fine craftsmanship that had gone completely unnoticed before.
The outer stone was etched with spiraling patterns, curving around the basin like creeping vines. They meant nothing - no letters, no symbols, no hidden runes. Just decoration. But even so, there was something calming and beautiful about them.
I followed the contours upward, past the basin, along the figure rising from its center.
My breath caught.
"The Goddess?" I murmured without thinking.
I couldn't look away.
The statue towered above the water, sculpted from pale stone marbled with veins of gold. Not real gold, but something close. Her face was carved in a moment of grit and defiance, eyes forward, mouth set with purpose. The armor clinging to her form was damaged, split in places, cracked and battered like it had seen war. I knew that scene. I'd seen that scene.
The memory stone.
It was her.
I circled the base, eyes hunting for the same inscriptions I'd seen near the stone arches. If this dungeon was elven-made, then the Goddess had to be marked somewhere. But no matter how close I looked, there was nothing. No text hidden in the curves of her wings, no symbols engraved into her chestplate. I even checked the folds of her cloak and the feathers along her back.
Nothing.
Until I reached the sword.
At first glance, it looked like part of the sculpture, just another stone weapon clutched in the statue's hand. But up close, the blade's surface was different, almost on purpose. And across its edge, silvery runes shimmered faintly.
ⴠⴈ, ⴠⴓ ⴈⴌⴠⴄⴐⴈⴒⴄⴃ ⴋⴀⴈ ⴅⴈⴊ, ⴘⴄⴊ ⴅⴈⴄⴊⴃ ⴋⴀⴈ ⴑⴍⴐⴃ
I had no idea what the inscription meant, but I'd figure it out eventually. Once I reunited with Aria, I'd make her teach me the language.
The more I explored this world, the more I thought that the Goddess wasn't just some ancient figure etched into the past. She was likely tied to me. Every path I took, every door I opened, something of hers was already there, waiting. I needed to learn more about the Goddess.
But for now, all of that could wait.
I needed food and rest. If the next chamber held anything like the dragon I'd barely escaped, I had to be at full strength.
I reached into the Veilspace and pulled out the roasted meat from the green room. The scent alone was enough to make my mouth water, but the moment it hit the air, it disintegrated between my fingers, collapsing into ash.
I stared at it, heartbroken and disappointed.
Sighing, I brushed my hands off and grabbed a strip of meat jerky instead. Dry, tough, flavorless, but at least it stayed intact. I sat down beside the fountain, chewing in silence.
I'll rest. Just a little.
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I watched as my vessel entered the dungeon. The moment the purple glow consumed him, our connection weakened, no longer stable, yet still present enough to assure me he was alive.
I could feel the pain he endured, the panic that consumed him, and then, just as suddenly, a strange quiet. Whether he had passed out or found his footing, I couldn't say.
The weakened divine link and my inability to control what was happening annoyed me, but the fact that I could still sense him meant Avenor hadn't perished. Staring at the dungeon's threshold would solve nothing, and I had a tribe to manage, so I willed the Window to move back toward the village…
Visually, it remained the same - crude shelters barely holding together, a so-called perimeter fence that served more as a symbolic border than any kind of defense. It was still the least developed among the six tribes, still frail in both structure and status.
But the Velmoryns were different. They carried my mark now.
I hadn't fully grasped the weight a priestess held among the Velmoryns until Tekla demonstrated her blessing by regrowing one of their limbs - a miracle even I hadn't realized was possible through her. That single act shattered whatever hesitation remained. Almost the entire tribe bowed their heads, surrendering themselves to me. A few of the elders resisted, their minds too rigid, too anchored to the old ways. But the rest gave me everything.
Eighty-six Divinity Points in an instant.
And now, even after blessing ten bronze-ranked Velmoryns, I had more than 150 points left - enough to act, to build, to reach beyond this shallow foothold.
I already knew what I had to do next.
I willed the Window to zoom in on Tekla.
She stood before the Oak Guardian, speaking with two young Velmoryns. Roy lingered behind her, his hand hovering near the hilt of his blade, quiet and watchful.
"Priestess, he insulted my mother…" the silver-eyed youth began, his voice brimming with restrained fury.
Tekla raised a hand, cutting him off without raising her tone. "This shall be the final time I speak on this matter. The God of Velmoryn does not wish to see His children harm one another. All conflict shall be judged through me, following His will."
Her voice was calm, almost gentle, but there was no mistaking the firmness in her eyes. The young Velmoryn looked like he wanted to argue, but one glance at Roy, standing like a drawn blade behind her, changed his mind.
I watched them depart, then focused on the glowing crimson star and allowed my voice to pass into her thoughts.
"When the winter arrives, the monsters shall descend. Let them be met with worthy blades. Seek out those whose strength and spirit have earned My blessing. Choose carefully, for I shall raise them."
No more saving my Divinity Points. I would spend them freely - on warriors who showed promise, on those capable of withstanding the winter's horrors. If Velmoryns feared the beasts that roamed in the cold months, then those creatures must carry Soul Essences unlike the beasts I had seen thus far.
I will turn winter into a harvest.
Tekla flinched as my voice echoed in her mind. She fell to her knees without hesitation, bowing her head deeply before the Oak Guardian.
"As You command, Lord," she whispered with quiet fervor.
I lingered a moment longer, curious to see whom she would choose. I had already decided who my elite would be, of course, but watching her judgment would be a test of her understanding. To name them all directly would feel… unworthy of God of Velmoryn.
But then, the blue flashed before my eyes as Avenor's status window opened before me on its own.
The connection hadn't changed. It was still faint, still weakened by the dungeon. So why did the system bring him to my attention?
I narrowed my focus and shifted the Window back to the dungeon.
I froze.
Three divine traces pulsed from the dungeon - mine, the lingering shadow of the Goddess…
And a third. A new one.
It was unfamiliar. Not dormant. Not fading.
Active.
It's another God's presence.
My mind raced, considering the implications.
If they recognize Avenor as my vessel…
**
A/N -
If you haven't picked up on it yet, the Elven language I'm using isn't random. It's fully translatable :3
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