"The gods built temples to be worshipped. But who prays when gods themselves begin to fall?"
---
In the sacred city of Elarith, atop the floating isle of Skyspire, the Council of Twelve gathered.
They were not gods, but high-blooded descendants — vessels and seers bound to each divine house.
And they were terrified.
The bell had rung.
Not in ceremony. Not in ritual.
It had screamed.
> "The seal on Vaeren is weakening," one whispered.
> "It cannot be. His name was forbidden."
> "His sword has chosen a wielder," another said grimly. "The Ashreaver lives."
> "And the girl…"
Silence.
Even the stars above the dome dimmed.
---
Back in the mortal realm, Rhaelor and Siyara traveled deeper into the Cradlewood, a cursed forest where time frays and visions bleed into waking life.
Siyara's eyes burned with images that weren't hers.
> "I see temples of me," she murmured, gripping her forehead.
> "Me — as a goddess."
She stumbled, and Rhaelor caught her.
> "You were one," he said quietly. "In a time no one remembers."
But not even he knew how deeply her past ran.
---
They reached the ruins of Ael'Veyr, the lost temple of Vaeren's final rebellion.
There, beneath the broken archways, waited a figure cloaked in deep violet — face shadowed, scent of blood thick around him.
> "Took you long enough, Rhaelor," the man drawled.
Rhaelor froze.
> "Kael."
His sworn brother.
His killer.
---
Kael stepped forward, sword still sheathed.
> "I died for you. You remember that much?"
> "You betrayed me," Rhaelor snarled.
> "No," Kael said calmly. "I saved you. You just weren't ready to see it."
He tossed a scroll at Rhaelor's feet.
Bound in old crimson wax. Marked with Vaeren's sigil.
> "The gods are coming," Kael said. "Not their avatars. The real ones."
> "They've sent the First Silencers. Their blades don't kill the body — they erase the soul."
---
Siyara bent down, touching the scroll.
Flames pulsed through her hands. Memories of being hunted. Slain. Reborn.
She looked up at Kael.
> "Why are you helping us now?"
Kael's smile faded.
> "Because I saw what comes next. And no one survives it. Not kingdoms. Not gods. Not even you."
> "Unless you become what they fear most."
---
In that moment, lightning split the sky.
Three cloaked figures descended into the ruins — faces veiled in starlight, each one silent, each one holding a curved blade of unmaking.
The First Silencers.
Siyara clutched her chest — her heart was seizing, memories flooding too fast.
Rhaelor lifted the Ashreaver, fire rippling across his shoulders.
> "You'll have to go through me," he said.
The First Silencer raised a hand and time shattered.
---
For a heartbeat, everything froze.
Even the birds mid-flight. Even the wind.
Only Siyara could move — because she was outside time now.
She stepped forward, her body burning.
Her eyes glowed gold, her voice deeper — layered with something ancient.
> "You dare touch my flame?" she spoke.
The First Silencers hesitated.
Not out of fear — out of recognition.
> "She's not just the girl," one of them whispered.
> "She's the Judge of the Unmade."
---
The ground cracked.
The spell shattered.
Rhaelor's blade ignited in black fir
e, and the First Divine War in 3,000 years began again — not in the heavens, but in ruins, among mortals who dared to defy fate.
---
End of Chapter 20: When Heaven Forgets to Pray
---