[Reception Hall, Dwelling of Hope]
The silence in the hall was almost tangible. The four chosen ones had gathered, their footsteps echoing lightly across the immaculate floor. Elyon's projections, luminous and ethereal, converged slowly toward the center of the room, merging into a single form — Elyon's true body.
Time seemed to slow as his eyes opened. A soft but powerful light emanated from his gaze, an aura that transcended mere strength and enveloped each of the chosen.
"Welcome, chosen children," Elyon said, his voice resonating like an echo between dimensions. "I am Elyon, God of Hope, and you were summoned here not by chance, but by the threads of fate."
The chosen exchanged brief glances before introducing themselves:
Adam, wary, stepped forward. "I… I'm Adam. I never sought this kind of… responsibility. But I guess I have no choice."
Sofia, calm and composed, nodded slightly. "Sofia Leclaire. I will follow your guidance, provided I understand each step."
Clayton, fists subtly clenched, a spark of defiance in his eyes. "Clayton Rumray. I hope you're not here just to test me unnecessarily."
Hana, reserved but resolute, gripped her hands lightly. "Hana Takeda. I… will do what is necessary."
From the shadows of an unseen corridor, a silent presence observed. A perception unlike any mortal's slipped through the walls of the dwelling, brushing against the splendor of light and shifting shadows. This entity was unseen, yet its curiosity had penetrated the sanctuary of the chosen — a spy whose identity remained hidden.
Elyon shivered almost imperceptibly. His divine senses detected the observation, the trace of an unknown gaze, but the source remained invisible, shrouded in mystery. He gave no indication, allowing the chosen to believe all was calm, while in the shadows, the intruder continued its silent watch.
Elyon inhaled deeply, his voice now carrying a weight of gravity yet still serene and majestic:
"You are in the world of Astra, more precisely in the divine dimension of Zephyrios, the divine realm where gods and those who serve them are assembled. The reason I have summoned you is simple. This world has fallen into chaos. Mortals and gods alike are at war. Most races are in conflict.
I have not brought you here simply to order you to conquer everyone. I have summoned you because you are the agents of change. You carry within you the seed of hope that even I cannot fully reveal. And this uncertainty… it is change. And this change is welcome, for peace may once again prevail in Astra.
Perhaps you do not believe me, but I am a god who loves peace. It is possible. I wish that most races… no, I wish that all could coexist peacefully, but that is impossible. I am not naive. I am also realistic. As a deity of hope, I wish that everyone could hold on to hope. But in these troubled times, the majority of my followers have fallen into despair. Some no longer believe in me. My divinity has been weakened, and I am not the only one who desires peace. A group of gods has aided me. They will also be our allies in this trial."
A soft wind stirred through the hall, as if the very air whispered promises of trials and mysteries to come. The chosen, each in their own way, felt the gravity of the moment. Their destinies had converged under the gaze of the one who bore Astra's hope, while in the shadows, an unseen figure continued its watchful observation.
Elyon's gaze swept across the four chosen ones, steady and calm, yet heavy with the weight of the task he laid before them.
"I know that for now, you feel as if you have no choice," he said, his voice echoing like a quiet tide of authority. "And indeed, you do not. I am certain your minds are racing with questions, but for now, even I cannot return you to where you came from. I am sorry to tell you this, but to my knowledge, there is no way to go back."
A pause lingered, the hall filled with the faint glow of shifting divine light.
"For now, I ask you to unite your efforts to save Astra. This task will not be simple. This is not a story in which the hero kills the demon king and all is resolved. Your enemies may even be humans, yet they seek war, conquest, and dominion."
The words sank into the hearts of the chosen, each reacting in their own way.
Adam felt a tight knot in his chest, the familiar surge of anxiety mixed with reluctant determination. Of course… it's not going to be simple. Nothing ever is. But if Abdi were here… he'd tell me to gather information first, act wisely, and never let despair take hold. I can't fail. Not now.
Sofia's mind spun, calculating and cautious. Enemies among humans? And gods in conflict? I need to understand their motives. Trust must be earned, alliances scrutinized. I cannot afford recklessness. But… there's no turning back. If I falter, others will suffer.
Clayton felt the familiar fire of challenge flare within him, tempered by skepticism. So even humans might oppose us? Good. Let them come. I'll fight. But I won't be a pawn in some god's game. I'll watch, I'll learn, and I'll act when the moment is mine. Still… Elyon's presence… he's no ordinary being. I need to respect that power, at least for now.
Hana's heartbeat echoed in her ears, a mixture of fear and reluctant resolve tightening her chest. I… I've always lived by rules, by careful planning. But now… nothing is ordinary. I must trust them, or at least trust myself to act when needed. There's no choice but forward. Peace… hope… can I even grasp what that means here?
Elyon observed their reactions silently, a faint sadness tracing the edges of his expression. He did not push them further yet; understanding would come with time, as would their unity.
"The path ahead is perilous," he continued, voice low but resonant. "You will face trials that challenge not only your strength, but your understanding of morality, trust, and hope. And yet, in these trials lies the possibility of change—true change, the kind that may restore peace to Astra. You are the vessels of that hope. And even if the path is shrouded in shadow, the light of your resolve will be the beacon that guides this world forward."
The divine aura in the hall pulsed gently, almost breathing in unison with their rising determination. Though the weight of Elyon's words pressed on them, each of the chosen understood—this was no ordinary summons. Their world, and the world of Astra, now rested partially in their hands.
And somewhere, unseen, the unknown observer's gaze lingered, measuring, weighing, and silently anticipating the first steps of these mortals who had been thrust into a realm of gods. Elyon felt the trace of that observation, but he remained silent, letting the chosen focus on their own dawning awareness of destiny.
The God of Hope spoke with confidence and calm, a faint smile playing on his lips.
"For this world to be saved, you must first understand it. But understanding alone is not enough: you also need power. To change things, one must have the ability to intervene. And this power, as a God, I will grant to you."
He paused, letting his words settle.
"But I cannot accomplish this alone. That is why, in the days to come, I will take you to meet certain allies. Through them, you will gain the knowledge and strength necessary to carry out your mission."
Adam raised an eyebrow, a mixture of disdain and challenge crossing his face. And you call yourself a God… he thought. Don't expect me to believe blindly. Are you truly here for peace… or to use us for your own ends?
He spoke almost provocatively, the words escaping before he could stop them:
"And you are a God. Will you not fight or use us for your own interests?"
It was impulsive. Yet beneath the action lay a subtle intention. Adam did not seek to offend without reason; he wanted to test the waters, to gauge the authenticity of the one who called himself the God of Hope.
Elyon showed no irritation. His smile remained gentle, almost paternal, as his penetrating gaze studied the young man. There was no anger, no judgment—only the infinite patience of a deity who had witnessed countless souls teeter between defiance and caution.
On the other side, Clayton and the two other chosen ones watched Adam as he tried to probe the deity. They all knew it was reckless, yet they, too, wanted to see how the deity would react. Even though Clayton had already tried, the deity had barely responded. Still, Elyon maintained that calm smile, as if every reaction they could give had been predicted.
"Yes, I know you might think I wish to use you, but I have no such intention. And as I told you, I am the God of Hope. In the realm of deities, I am classified as a positive god. But positive gods are not always so benevolent from the mortals' perspective. Yes, we also have interests for which we must contend. But I will not trouble myself with using you for that purpose."
After he spoke, the four chosen ones felt embarrassed. They were ashamed, as if their thoughts had been laid bare before Elyon.
The young French woman was perplexed by the God of Hope's declaration.
"How… how can he be so altruistic? Should we… should we trust him?"
Elyon continued, without mentioning their indiscretion.
"You are not my followers, but perfect strangers to this world. You are not my champions, but those of Astra.
For now, I will help you identify your talents in the days to come."
"Very well! We will follow your instructions. I step forward to be the leader of our group, as the eldest I hope to help everyone—do you accept?"
Clayton stepped forward, shouting loudly.
After Clayton spoke, the three other chosen ones gave their agreement.
Adam nodded, a spark of resolve in his eyes, agreeing without protest, his acceptance mirroring that of the others.
"All right. In any case, I doubt I could be wiser or more experienced than you, sir. I only hope that under your leadership, everything will go well. Let me reintroduce myself—I am Adam."
"Thank you, young man," Clayton replied, his voice firm yet not unkind. "I appreciate your courage. But do not be so reckless again."
"Yes, sir. It's just… on the way here, I lost my brother. His loss weighed heavily on me. It won't happen again."
At those words, Clayton's expression softened. The loss of a loved one was never an easy wound to bear.
"I agree as well," Sofia's gentle voice rang out. "After all, you are the eldest among us. I mean no offense, but I think in this situation, we would benefit from the experience of an elder. And judging by the weapon you carry, you're a former soldier. Am I wrong?"
"No, young lady. You are correct. I am a veteran," Clayton admitted. "But I will speak of my past another time. And you, madam?"
He turned toward Hana, who had remained silent in her corner.
"It does not trouble me," Hana said softly. "I have never been fit to lead. I doubt I could do better than you."
"Thank you. It is good that we can understand one another," Clayton replied, though his expression grew bitter. "I confess my feelings are complicated. Though we are told our mission is noble, that does not make it easier to accept. Still—we have no choice."
The other three glanced at him, and for the first time a thread of complicity passed between them, bound by the exasperated look they cast at their new leader.
"From your eyes," Clayton murmured, "I can see you share the same turmoil as I do."
A faint, ironic smile tugged at his lips, the realization dawning that he was not alone in his unrest.
"Who would not be troubled? I was foolish to think otherwise."
Sofia spoke next, her voice calm but edged with weariness.
"Of course it isn't easy. I was only on my way home from work, going to see my parents, and suddenly I was transported here. No—kidnapped, if you ask me."
"I see… that cannot have been easy," Clayton replied. He could hear in her tone the longing for family that lingered behind her words.
"And you, sir?" she asked.
"For me, I had just risen to visit some friends. Then the accident happened, without warning."
His gaze shifted toward Adam. "And you, my boy? How did you lose your brother?"
Adam fell silent. Seconds passed, heavy and slow, before he finally muttered:
"I'd rather not speak of it. I'm sorry… I don't like to talk about it."
"That is your right," Clayton answered quietly. "But know that if you ever wish to speak, I will listen."
Then his eyes narrowed, turning back toward Elyon.
"Tell me, Lord God of Hope—was it you who caused the loss of his brother?"
Though the question carried the weight of an accusation, Clayton already suspected the truth. He understood now that Elyon had never intended for there to be a fifth chosen one.
Hana and Sofia fixed their eyes on the deity as well. They, too, wished to know the truth of the tragedy that had struck their youngest companion.
Adam, however, kept silent. He did not wish to speak, nor to remember. Accepting what had happened was one thing; remembering it only tore the wound open again.
With the eyes of the three upon him—save Adam—Elyon finally spoke.
"I confess it. This tragic mishap was my fault. My divine power was not sufficient, nor strong enough, to bear the passage of two souls at once."
The God of Hope's face was marked with sorrow. It was already shameful to wrench mortals from their world—but to harm one by taking the life of his brother was a wound upon his divinity itself.
"Very well, let me show you your chambers."
"I believe everyone here will need a place to calm their minds and absorb all that they have just learned."
The God of Hope shook off the lingering bitterness, returning to the serene tone that had marked his first words.
The four companions nodded in agreement. Though newly awakened, each felt the need to retreat into their own space, to gather their thoughts and recover from the mental strain of their monumental task.
"Let us go," Elyon said, leading the way down a corridor slightly removed from the main hall.
Silently, they followed him. None, save Elyon, noticed the faint grey light lingering in a shadowed corner of the reception hall.
Once the group had departed, the grey glow stirred, coalescing into the form of a woman of arresting beauty.
She wore a simple white gown, unadorned, yet she radiated an aura of nobility unlike any the companions had yet encountered. Long silver-grey hair brushed the floor of Elyon's dwelling as she glided forward barefoot, settling into a chair with the casual ease of one accustomed to command. Her silver eyes were fixed on the corridor down which Elyon and his wards had vanished.
"Hmph! This God of Hope is far too arrogant," she murmured, the faint curl of a smile playing on her lips. "Does he truly believe that by using outsiders, he can alter Astra's turbulent course?"
She leaned back, her voice barely more than a whisper, though it carried the weight of amusement and calculation.
"Let me laugh, Elyon. It seems he did not act alone, from what I overheard. How could I have missed such a detail? Most… enlightening, compared to my own designs."
A sly, almost predatory grin curved her lips.
"It is time I join this game," she breathed, "and I have a token to play against you, my dear friend."
A soft laugh escaped her, rich and unrestrained. She felt a quiet thrill—she had glimpsed something Elyon could not, a subtle disturbance she might exploit. And though she did not yet know the full scope, she sensed a lever hidden within the very core of one of his chosen.
Unseen by Elyon, a storm was poised to stir, born from the blind spot of his divine perception.
Which instrument would she wield to tip the balance? Only time would reveal the answer.
Yet in the shadows of Adam's eyes, something flickered—a faint resonance of another presence, subtle and unspoken, waiting patiently within him, a seed of consciousness that might one day awaken when the time was right.
–––––––––
Half an hour later, Elyon returned. His once-calm expression and the serene atmosphere had completely vanished.
"What are you doing here?" His tone was sharp, tinged with irritation. The woman before him was clearly unwelcome. Despite her breathtaking charm, he remained unmoved.
"Oh, am I not allowed to visit a dear friend? Elyon, really!" she replied with a sly smile. "What you're doing… is rather interesting. And you see, I detest boredom. Had I not known better, I would have thought I was the only one active here, unlike you and your little group. But, well, it would have been impolite not to invite me, wouldn't it? Don't worry—I will help too, Elyon. This world needs beauty, peace, prosperity. Isn't that what you desire?"
Her voice was playful, teasing, deliberately designed to provoke.
"Inannael, I may be a god of positivity, but if you vex me… be prepared to face my wrath."
"I will not tolerate you disrupting the plans set for these chosen ones, understood?!"
Elyon, emotional and tense, momentarily lost control. The woman, known among the circle of gods as a troublemaker, savored the moment.
"Alas… I was foolish to believe that most deities wouldn't be too curious…" he murmured, bitterness in his words.
Noticing Elyon's faltering composure, Inannael softened her smile. She rose gracefully, standing before him, and spoke in a tone almost gentle, as if explaining to a child:
"Listen carefully, dear Elyon. I, Inannael, am a free deity. I do as I please. And truth be told… this war in Astra has grown terribly boring."
"Humans are starting to disgust me; they've been far too spoiled. So I want to play my part as well. If you wish for me not to bother you, you will allow me to speak to your wards. Agreed?"
Her tone wasn't a question—it was a statement, a declaration of what would happen.
Elyon drew a deep breath to calm himself, studying her intently for a long moment before he spoke:
"Inannael… do you truly intend to intervene? You know I am not alone. And more importantly, what is your true purpose?"
He knew, deep down, that she was not inherently malicious—but spontaneous, unpredictable, and driven by the very essence of her divinity.
It was not the first time they had clashed.
Elyon recalled how Inannael had once aided him in the snow-covered lands of the Dayn people, only to lead them into war against the human cities.
Humanity, proud of its might, could not tolerate such an affront and utterly annihilated the Dayn people. It was a massacre—until among the Daynians, one rose with immense resolve and extraordinary strength.
He made a sacrifice, driving back the human forces until he gave his life, becoming a barrier to protect his people.
The hope that had been kindled in this just conflict was a source of amusement for the goddess of wars and noble souls.
Her divine essence seemed intoxicated by the stirring of conflicts, nurturing noble heroes only to see them fall. The sight of their downfall was exhilarating—and even more so if they transformed into fallen champions.
Many heroes received her aid and succeeded in their quests, yet the majority despaired and succumbed to corruption.
Returning to his thoughts, Elyon sighed.
"Very well. You do not need to answer me. I will allow you to interact with them, but it will be under my supervision, understood?"
Inannael smiled, pleased with her friend's response.
"Not so difficult, my dear Elyon. Don't worry—I merely wish to observe how these outsiders might rise to heroism. And will they truly intervene in a foreign conflict? You remain as naive as ever, my old friend. But fear not, I am here to… help."
"I suppose I'll find a room to interact with them until they come downstairs," she said, smiling as always, and made her way down the corridor toward where Elyon had placed the mortals.
Without waiting for Elyon's reply, she opened a door at random, entering a room and slamming it shut behind her.
"Boom!"
Elyon exhaled a long sigh. He knew he had no choice. All he could do was watch Inannael, ensuring she did nothing truly troublesome.
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Adam sat on the edge of the bed, hugging his knees, his gaze wandering across the stark, pale walls of the room. The soft, ambient light seemed to exist without source, filling the space with a calm that felt almost unnatural. Everything was simple—no decorations, no furnishings beyond the bed—but somehow the emptiness made the room feel larger, as if it existed somewhere between worlds.
The window framed an endless expanse of twilight sky, faintly shimmering, giving Adam the strange sensation that the room was both nowhere and everywhere at once. The floor beneath his feet was bare, yet comforting, grounding him in a reality that seemed suspended.
Thoughts swirled in his mind: the sudden summoning, the God of Hope's presence, the heavy weight of responsibility, and the ache of losing his brother. The quiet of the room pressed against him, urging reflection. He breathed slowly, letting the surreal calm of the space seep into him.
Even in this simplicity, Adam felt a flicker of clarity forming within his thoughts. The room, though unreal, offered a fragile sanctuary, a place to gather himself before facing the trials ahead. He remained seated, eyes fixed on the faint glow outside the window, letting his mind wrestle quietly with the enormity of what was to come.
I need a bit of sleep. Then I'll explore this place in detail when I wake. And I should remind Clayton to ask Elyon if we need supplies—or toilets. And clothes too… maybe he's thinking about that as well.
Elyon really is a god. I haven't seen any toilets here. Funny, really, since he seems to forget that we're human—and that humans, well… need to relieve themselves.
Lucky for me, I don't need to go right now. Still… I feel like my body has been changing since I woke up.
Is that normal? I don't know. But it doesn't seem bad. If anything, I feel stronger, sharper. My thoughts, my reasoning… they feel clearer than before.
✦✦✦✦✦
Meanwhile, in her chamber, the goddess Inannael lay upon her bed, silver eyes gleaming with a faint gray light.
She was neither asleep nor idle. Even now, she communed with her divine disciples in her distant temple.
"Cease everything immediately. New plans are underway. And do not leave a trace—I will not tolerate interference from other deities. For now, I have other matters to attend."
Her eyes returned to their usual calm, the practiced smile fixed upon her face. Beneath that serene facade, excitement stirred. Soon, she would converse with Elyon's strange wards.
What would be different this time? Could heroism truly be within reach for mortals, or did Elyon conceal other schemes?
The thought sent a thrill through the goddess. The token she held—or almost held—remained unused for the moment. Inannael was uncertain if it would even serve her purpose, but who could say?
Zephyrios was merely a waypoint for these fledgling heroes, yet complications loomed on the horizon.
Soon, the four chosen would come to learn the history of Astra, and the forces upon which they must rely to endure the trials ahead.
Inannael's patience strained against itself, coiled and eager. Every tick of the clock brought her closer to the moment she would finally meet them. The game was about to begin, and she would savor every move.
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Hello, dear traveler.
Today, I felt a spark of excitement, so here is the third chapter, a little earlier than planned. I hope you enjoy the journey.
Someone reached out to me recently, but I must admit—I'm not one for promotion. As always, this story is a labor of passion.
For now, simply savor the adventure, explore the twists and wonders of Astra, and let your imagination roam.