The afternoon sun painted lazy strokes of gold across the quiet hillside, where two ancient oaks stood like weathered guardians. Their branches, heavy with autumn's touch, shed leaves that danced on the breeze before settling into the tall grass below.
Kayden sat with his back pressed against the rough bark of the larger tree, feeling every groove and ridge through his thin shirt. His dark brown hair fell messily across his forehead as he tilted his head back, squinting at the patches of sky visible through the canopy above. When he raised his hand toward the light, the sun filtered through his fingers in thin golden streams, and for a moment, his red eyes caught the glow like polished garnets.
'Still nothing,' he thought, clenching his fist. 'No powers. No bond. Nothing.'
The familiar weight of disappointment settled in his chest. Three times now. Three ceremonies, three failures. At thirteen, most people had already bonded with their patron god. At thirteen, he was running out of chances.
Most people would have already bonded by twelve. But here he was, godless and running out of chances.
"Darian!"
The distant call made him sigh. He knew that voice. Shrill, demanding, and completely unwilling to be ignored.
"Darian! Where are you?"
He didn't move, hoping she'd give up and go home. But Verael had never given up on anything in her fourteen years of life, least of all when it came to dragging him back to face reality.
Her footsteps thundered up the hill before he saw her...a blur of bright red hair and fierce determination. Her blue eyes blazed with the kind of righteous anger only an elder sister could muster, her fists clenched at her sides.
"What do you want, Verael?" he muttered, not bothering to look at her.
*Thwack!*
"Ow!" Pain shot through his skull as her hand connected with the back of his head. He rubbed the spot, glaring at her. "What was that for?"
"Where have you been?" She crossed her arms, her stance wide and uncompromising. "Mom's been pacing around the house for hours. She's worried sick about you."
"Since when do you care what I do?" The words came out more bitter than he'd intended.
The words came out unusual. He would never talk to her that way if something wasn't wrong...and she knew.
Verael's expression softened, just a little. She knew what today meant. The third bonding ceremony.
She settled onto the grass beside him, tucking her legs beneath her dress. "Do you think..." Kayden's voice was barely above a whisper. "Do you think I'll ever be able to bond?"
The question hung between them like smoke. Verael stared out at the village below, where cooking fires sent thin ribbons of smoke into the evening air. When she finally spoke, her voice was gentler than usual.
"I don't know," she admitted. "It is your third time, and that's... unusual."
The honesty stung, but he'd asked for it. In this world, bonding with a god wasn't just important...it was everything. It determined your place in society, your future, your worth. Those who failed to bond were called Godless, cast out to live on the margins of civilization. And with each failed ceremony, Darian felt himself drifting closer to that fate.
"But," Verael continued, reaching over to squeeze his shoulder, "that doesn't mean you should give up."
'Easy for her to say.' He glanced at his fourteen year sister, remembering the day she'd bonded with Lyralei, goddess of the wind about a year ago. The way her eyes had glowed, the way the air itself had seemed to dance around her...she'd been chosen. She belonged.
"Do you still hear them?" Her voice dropped to barely audible.
Kayden hesitated. The voices were his secret shame, something he'd never told anyone except Verael. "Yeah," he said finally. "They're always there. Whispering, screaming... I can feel their anger, their pain. It's like they're trapped somewhere, trying to claw their way out."
Verael frowned. "I've lived here my whole life, Kayden. None of the other villagers have ever mentioned hearing anything like that. Are you sure you're not..."
"I'm not imagining it!" The words came out sharper than he'd meant. "You think I'd make up this type of nightmare?"
She held up her hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. I believe you." Standing, she brushed grass from her dress. "But right now, voices or no voices, you need to come home. Mom's probably wearing a hole in the floor by now."
Reluctantly, Kayden pushed himself to his feet. His problems would still be there tomorrow. The voices, the failed bondings, the growing certainty that he didn't belong in this world. But for now, he could set them aside.
The walk down the hill was quiet, their shadows stretching long across the grass as the sun began its descent toward the horizon.
---
**Kingdom of Celestia — Aboard the Skyship *Divinity's Wrath***
High above the clouds, the massive airship cut through the sky like a blade through silk. Its white hull gleamed in the afternoon sun, adorned with golden symbols that caught the light with every slight movement.
"Divine Inquisitor," called a man in pristine white robes, his clipboard held with reverent precision. "Our forces have successfully secured the Eastern Kingdom of Aegis."
Aegis, a kingdom of what remains of the demon clan. It stood beyond the eastern territory of the Humans Borders. As of today it's walls and cities had fallen to ash and dust.
At the ship's railing, a figure turned slowly. Divine Inquisitor Lyanna Vox was everything the Celestial Kingdom represented...perfect, untouchable, and utterly convinced of her righteousness. Her golden hair moved like liquid sunlight, and her white tailcoat, trimmed with threads of real gold, fluttered in the high-altitude wind.
"Excellent," she said, her voice carrying the chill of winter morning. "Those black-blooded devils had no right to share the same earth as the gods' chosen."
"There's more, ma'am." The aide's voice wavered slightly.
"Speak."
"We detected another anomaly during the recent bonding ceremonies. A failed bonding in a small village near the Noxvale border. The readings were... Unusual."
Vox raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "Another failure?"
"Yes, Divine Inquisitor. The third recorded failure from the same individual."
She turned from the railing, her boots clicking against the polished deck. "Well," she said with the casual cruelty of someone who had never known want, "not everyone can be chosen by the gods. Some are simply born to serve... or be removed." Her eyes glittered dangerously. "Set course for this anomaly. I'm curious to see what manner of defect produces such readings."
---
**Village of At The Border Of Noxvale**
"Where have you been, Kayden? I've been worried sick!"
His mother's arms enveloped him the moment he stepped through the door. Emily was a small woman, but her hugs could make any problem seem smaller. Her brown hair, streaked with premature gray from years of worry, was pulled back in a simple bun, and her blue dress—her best one—was protected by a flour-dusted apron.
"I'm sorry, Mom," Kayden said, breathing in the familiar scent of bread and lavender that always clung to her clothes. "I was up at the hill and lost track of time."
Emily pulled back to study his face, her warm brown eyes searching for signs of the pain she knew he was carrying. After a moment, she cupped his cheek with one flour-dusted hand.
"I know you like exploring sweetheart," she said softly. "But please, next time, don't wander so far. This old heart of mine can only take so much worry."
"I promise," he said, managing a small smile.
"Ha!" Verael's voice cut through the tender moment like a knife. "We all know that promise won't last a week."
Kayden spun around to glare at her. "What's that supposed to mean, huh?"
"Just being realistic. You've never kept a promise to stay close to home in your life."
"Want to settle this outside?"
"Any time, failure."
The word hit like a physical blow, but he knew she didn't mean it in a hurtful way. But before Kayden could respond, their mother's voice cut through the tension.
"That's enough, both of you." Emily's tone brooked no argument. "Verael, your brother is going through a difficult time. Show some compassion. And Kayden, your sister loves you...she just has a terrible way of showing it."
The siblings glared at each other for another moment before the absurdity of it all broke through. Soon, both were trying not to smile, and Emily was shaking her head with the long-suffering patience of mothers everywhere.
Outside, the sounds of evening life drifted through the windows—children playing with their newfound powers, adults calling to one another, the general contentment of a village at peace. For a moment, Kayden let himself imagine this was enough. That he could be happy here, even without a divine bond, even with the voices whispering in his head.
---
That night, silver moonlight streamed through the small window of the bedroom Kayden shared with Verael. She slept soundly in her narrow bed across the room, her red hair spread across her pillow like spilled wine. Her breathing was deep and even, the sleep of someone whose conscience was clear.
Kayden lay on his back, staring at the ceiling beams. The voices were quieter when Verael was near. He'd noticed that years ago. Something about her presence seemed to muffle their constant whispers of violence and rage.
'Kill... destroy... break them all...'
The words scraped against the inside of his skull like claws on stone. He pressed his palms against his temples, trying to block them out.
'Soon... so soon... the barrier weakens...'
"Shut up," he whispered into the darkness.
But as he watched his sister sleep, peaceful and untroubled, a small smile tugged at his lips. For a moment he felt a sense of duty. One to protect. Whatever was wrong with him, whatever the voices meant, at least he had this. At least he had family.
'There's always tomorrow,' he told himself, closing his eyes. 'Maybe tomorrow will be different.'
He had no way of knowing that tomorrow would change everything...and not in the way he'd hoped.
---
**BOOM.**
The explosion shattered the night like a hammer through glass. Kayden jerked awake, his heart hammering against his ribs as smoke poured through the window.
**BOOM. BOOM.**
More explosions, closer now. The sky outside had turned from silver to orange, painted with flames that shouldn't exist in their peaceful village.
He threw off his blanket and rushed outside, bare feet slapping against the cold ground.
"Verael!" His voice cracked as he called for his sister.
"Kayden!" Her answer came from the direction of the village center, where the glow was brightest.
He found her standing in the middle of the square, her nightgown ghostly white in the firelight. Around them, their neighbors ran in panic, some carrying children, others clutching whatever possessions they could grab.
"What's happening?" he shouted over the chaos.
"I don't know!" Fear made her voice small and young again. "These people came out of nowhere and started destroying everything!"
For an older sister she was acting pretty young. And Kayden couldn't blame her.
"What people?"
A voice answered from the smoke. Calm, controlled, and utterly without mercy.
"You all may count yourselves fortunate...."
Through the haze stepped a figure that seemed to glow with its own light. The woman's white coat was immaculate despite the destruction around her, its golden trim catching the firelight like captured stars. Her blonde hair moved as though touched by a divine wind, and her face held the serene cruelty of someone who had never doubted their own righteousness.
"...to be visited upon by a messenger of the gods"
The remaining villagers fell silent, their panic replaced by a deeper, more primal fear.
"A Divine Inquisitor," Verael breathed, the words barely audible.
Kayden's blood turned to ice in his veins. Divine Inquisitors were the Celestial Kingdom's enforcers, sent to root out heresy and eliminate threats to the divine order. Why were they here?.
"Kayden! Verael!"
Their mother's voice cut through his spiraling thoughts. She emerged from the smoke like an angel of mercy, her arms reaching for them even as tears streamed down her soot-stained cheeks.
"Mom!" They both ran to her, letting themselves be pulled into her fierce embrace.
"Are you hurt?" Emily's hands moved over them frantically, checking for injuries. "Thank the gods, you're both safe."
"What's happening?" Kayden asked, his voice muffled against her shoulder. "Why are they here?"
For a moment, his mother said nothing. When she finally spoke, her voice was steady, but he could feel the tremor in her arms where she held them.
"Everything's going to be alright," she whispered. "I promise, everything will be fine."
But Kayden had always been able to read people, especially his mother. And what he read in her voice, in the set of her shoulders, in the way she held them too tightly, told him a truth she couldn't speak aloud.
She was lying.
And if his mother...his strong, honest, never-tell-a-lie mother...was lying to him now, it meant that it was about to end.