'Life used to be boring.'
The thought rolled softly through the mind of Nyala, goddess of the Plane of Light, as she sat cross-legged upon a smooth, sun-warmed stone at the shore.
Her eyes half-closed, her lips curled into a faint smile, she let the radiant sea-breeze comb gently through her silken hair.
The Plane of Light stretched endlessly around her: skies painted in a bright eternal dawn, sands as white as powdered pearl, and an ocean glowing faintly with divine sheen.
It was her dominion, her very essence woven into the fabric of this paradise.
Holy energy here was absolute.
If mortals from the church could even touch a fraction of this mana, they would ascend into myths.
And yet… the goddess, eternal and unchanging, had found herself long starved of thrill.
Centuries upon centuries of quiet perfection dulled into monotony.
Until him.
Her gaze drifted toward the young man beside her.
