The Goddess of Life walked beside Selindra as they left the prayer chamber, their footsteps echoing softly against polished stone.
The temple was still, its silence broken only by the faint crackle of a torch that burned low against the far wall. Outside the tall stained windows, the faintest light of dawn pushed its way into the world.
Selindra bowed briefly before glancing toward the grand entrance.
"It is early, my Lady. No prayers yet. If we leave now, there will be no questions."
She moved gracefully to the great wooden doors of the temple, pressing her palm against their carved surface. A faint green glow seeped from her fingertips, sinking into the wood. The locks turned with a soft click, and the heavy doors sealed tight.
"There," Selindra said, dusting her hands. "No one will disturb this place until I return."
The Goddess nodded, her gaze shifting to the horizon where faint strands of light cut across the forest canopy. "Then it begins here." She looked back at the elf, her voice calm yet carrying the weight of certainty. "First, we follow the mortals. Their bodies carry traces of what I seek."
Selindra tilted her head, curious. "You can feel them?"
"I felt them the moment I descended," the Goddess replied, her tone steady, almost detached. "Faint, diluted threads of divinity—clinging to mortals like dew on leaves. They should not carry such power… not unless they've consumed something divine." Her eyes narrowed. "It cannot be coincidence. They are drinking it."
Selindra's brows knitted. "You mean… the divine wine?"
"Yes," the Goddess answered simply. "That is where we start. A human settlement, about a hundred kilometers from here. The traces are strongest in that direction."
The elf looked uneasy at the mention of humans, her lips tightening. "That far from the forest… we will have to cross the outer rivers and fields. The villages there aren't kind to elves."
The Goddess studied her for a moment, then laid a reassuring hand on Selindra's shoulder. "You will not be harmed. Walk beside me, and none will touch you. This I promise."
A small breath escaped Selindra's lips, half relief and half disbelief. "To have your protection… I cannot deny the comfort it gives. Still, I should lead the way. The paths of the forest are unkind to outsiders."
The Goddess gave a slight nod, her golden eyes glimmering faintly in the dawn light. "Then guide me, Selindra. Together we will weave through these threads. Each mortal who carries a spark of this false divinity brings us closer to Atlas."
Selindra hesitated, her mind circling the thought. "And if these mortals do not speak? If they deny us?"
"They won't," the Goddess said with quiet certainty. "The divine cannot be hidden from me. I will feel it in their veins, whether they wish to share the truth or not. Their bodies betray them."
For a moment, silence lingered between them, broken only by the rustling of leaves as the morning wind slipped through the high temple windows.
Finally, Selindra adjusted the strap of her cloak and glanced toward the forest paths beyond the Elven Territory. "Then our first step is clear. We follow the humans."
The Goddess's lips curved into the faintest of smiles. "And through them, we will find the Son of Fate."
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The Goddess of Life and Selindra moved through the shadowed paths of the Elven forest, guided by the soft glow of moonlight that filtered between the canopy.
The air hummed with the sound of cicadas, and the rustle of unseen creatures echoed between the trees.
Selindra, light-footed as all elves were, glanced up at her companion with something between awe and quiet curiosity. The Goddess walked without effort, every step so light that not even a single twig snapped under her feet. Wherever her gaze shifted, the wild monsters hidden in the forest shrank back—not out of fear, but reverence.
They bowed their heads, or slunk into the brush, the natural instinct of creations in the presence of their maker.
"It seems," Selindra murmured as they walked, "that even the beasts know who you are."
The Goddess smiled faintly. "Of course they do. Their souls carry pieces of me. Recognition is written in them from the moment they're born."
Hours passed in silence. The forest felt endless, stretching in every direction like an eternal wall of green. But finally, after a long night's travel, the trees began to thin. The wildness receded into softer hills, until the last cluster of branches gave way to open air.
Selindra paused, taking in the view.
A single road lay stretched before them, cutting across the plain like a scar. It was the only road, narrow but well-trodden. Beyond it, fields of wild grass swayed under the first light of dawn.
The Goddess tilted her head. "It seems Fate has chosen the path for us."
Selindra gave a small smile. "Then let us follow where it leads."
They walked.
The road wound across low hills, and by the time the sun had fully risen, the smell of tilled earth reached them. Smoke rose in soft threads ahead, curling from chimneys. A small village sat nestled by the road, its fields already alive with farmers working the soil.
Selindra slowed her pace, her sharp eyes taking in the humble houses, the barns, and the handful of villagers bustling about with baskets and tools. "A farming village. Modest, but alive."
The Goddess's gaze softened. "Every settlement, no matter how small, holds threads of life I've given. This place is no different."
Selindra looked to her. "Shall I ask around? We may hear whispers about this… Son of Fate."
The Goddess shook her head gently. "I'll remain here. You know mortals. My presence draws too much attention. You'll learn more alone."
Selindra bowed slightly, a hand over her chest. "As you command. Please rest, my Lady. I'll bring back anything useful."
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Selindra made her way through the quiet village streets. People greeted her politely, their eyes curious about a lone elf traveling so far from the forest. She offered them warm nods in return but did not linger, instead directing her steps toward the largest building she could see: a small inn at the center of the settlement.
The door creaked as she entered. The smell of baked bread and wood smoke filled the air. A few villagers sat at tables, speaking in hushed tones over their morning meals.
Behind the counter stood the innkeeper, a stocky man with a balding head and a tidy apron. He looked up when he saw her, surprise flickering across his face before he straightened and forced a polite smile.
"Well, now… an elf in these parts is a rare sight. What brings you here, traveler?"
Selindra returned his smile faintly, inclining her head. "A road brought me here, good sir. And perhaps, if Fate is kind, so will answers. Tell me… have you heard of the Son of Fate?"
The innkeeper blinked, his brows furrowing. "The… Son of Fate, you say? Aye, I've heard the tales. Everyone has. Divine wine flowing from a temple far away. They say it heals the sick, grants vigor, makes old bones young again."
He leaned closer, lowering his voice. "Folk say it comes from him. A child of the Goddess herself."
Selindra tilted her head, feigning casual curiosity. "Have you ever seen this wine yourself?"
The innkeeper chuckled softly, scratching the back of his neck. "Not with my own eyes. But travelers speak of it often enough. Pilgrims, merchants, wanderers. Always the same direction—they come from the east, glowing with health, singing praises. I figure if there's truth to the tale, that's the way you'll want to go."
At that moment, the soft strum of a lute floated through the air. Selindra turned her head to see a man seated near the hearth: a traveling musician, slim and dark-haired, his fingers dancing across the strings as he sang.
His voice carried clearly, low and smooth:
"Oh, hear the tale, the Son of Fate,
A gift divine, through temple gate.
Blood of Goddess, flowing wine,
Blessings endless, life divine."
The innkeeper sighed with a weary smile. "That's Harven. Been here two days, singing the same song. Folks seem to like it. Says he heard it in the capital, spreading fast. They all believe now."
Selindra stepped closer to the musician, her keen eyes narrowing. When he finished the verse, she spoke softly.
"Minstrel. This song you sing—where did you hear it?"
Harven looked up, startled by the sudden question. His eyes lingered on her pointed ears, then widened slightly in recognition.
"Ah, an elf. Not every day I get such an audience." He cleared his throat. "
The song's been circling everywhere. Started with pilgrims returning from the eastern temple. They swore the Son of Fate himself blessed the wine.
Thought it was nonsense myself… until I saw a sick child drink it and stand on his own feet again."
Selindra's gaze sharpened. "And this temple… where exactly?"
Harven's lips curled into a knowing grin. "Far east, near the Silver Plains. Everyone's talking about it. If you're chasing legends, that's where you'll find them."
Selindra inclined her head politely. "Thank you. You've given me more than a song."
The minstrel laughed softly. "Then may your steps find the truth you seek."
Selindra turned back toward the door, her heart beating faster. She had heard enough. East. Always east.
Selindra returned to the Goddess, finding her in the middle of the farming fields. The dawn's first light broke over the horizon, scattering a golden haze across the land.
The Goddess of Life stood barefoot upon the soil, her hands raised gently, her touch unseen yet felt. The crops swayed though there was no wind, their stalks gleaming as if kissed by dew from another world.
Each plant seemed to breathe with renewed vigor, their roots tightening with strength, their fruits swelling as if ripened by the presence of their creator. Farmers in the distance whispered among themselves, not daring to approach but bowing from afar, their hearts stirred with reverence.
Selindra's steps were careful, hesitant even, as though she did not wish to interrupt a divine act. Yet the Goddess turned with a soft smile before Selindra spoke a word, her presence radiant and calm.
"My Lady," Selindra said, lowering her head, "I have found something of importance."
The Goddess tilted her head slightly, her hair catching the glow of dawn. "Then speak, child. Your voice carries more weight than silence."
Selindra bowed deeper, then relayed what she had gathered from the innkeeper and the traveling musician—the myth of the Son of Fate sung in song, the whispers of divine wine given by a stranger cloaked in mystery, and the tale of a presence that could only be traced eastward.
As the last words left Selindra's lips, the Goddess's smile brightened. Delight glimmered in her emerald eyes, and for a fleeting moment, the heavy burden she bore seemed lighter.
"At last… a clear path," the Goddess said, her tone hushed but filled with warmth. "No longer shall we wander blindly."
Selindra looked at her uncertainly. "My Lady, should you not preserve your strength? You mentioned that your power must be reserved for the portal."
The Goddess chuckled softly, like the trickling of a brook. "Yes, but now that we know the way, a small indulgence is allowed." She raised her hand, her fingers tracing a pattern in the air, weaving lines of light that shimmered like threads of morning frost.
Before Selindra could ask what she was doing, she felt it—an immense but gentle force washing over her, lifting her as though the world itself embraced her. Then, behind her, she felt something bloom: a sensation not of flesh but of pure magic unfurling.
She turned slightly, gasping when she caught sight of herself reflected in the faint shimmer of the spell—a pair of white, glistening wings stretched from her back, radiant yet weightless, glowing faintly in harmony with the Goddess's own.
The Goddess of Life stood before her, wings equally radiant, majestic in their span and purity. No words could capture the beauty of it—she looked less like a figure of worship and more like a vision of the dawn itself.
"My Lady…" Selindra whispered, awe dripping from every syllable. "This… this is…"
"Flight," the Goddess said, her smile gentle. "It is not often I share such gifts. But today, you and I shall walk the skies together."
Selindra's throat tightened. She wanted to fall to her knees and weep, not from sorrow but from the sheer overwhelming honor of it. She dared not, though, for fear of disrespecting the gift. Instead, she bowed low. "I… I will treasure this, my Lady. Even if it lasts but a moment."
The Goddess reached out and touched her shoulder lightly. "Then let us not waste that moment."
Together, they ascended.
The ground fell away in a rush, the fields and village shrinking until they were no more than painted strokes upon the earth. The air grew cooler, sharper, carrying with it the scent of clouds and freedom.
Selindra's wings moved instinctively, each beat propelling her forward, the magic flowing as naturally as blood in her veins. Below them stretched an endless canvas—the rolling forests, rivers that glittered like silver serpents, mountains piercing the heavens.
Selindra's eyes widened at the splendor. "It's… it's beautiful beyond words."
The Goddess glanced at her with a serene smile. "The world is always this beautiful, Selindra. But mortals rarely see it from the sky. Perspective changes all things."
For hours, they flew, the land shifting beneath them like the pages of a story. Villages turned into dots, rivers into threads, forests into oceans of green. The sun climbed and waned, casting the land in hues of amber and rose.
Finally, as dusk approached, a vast shape broke the horizon—a city unlike any Selindra had ever known. High walls gleamed like polished stone infused with light, towers crowned with banners of gold and silver. Even from afar, the city radiated a pulse, an invisible heartbeat that carried power with every thrum.
They descended slowly, landing upon a nearby hill that overlooked the grand sight. Selindra's eyes widened, her breath stolen.
"This city…" she whispered, clutching her chest as if steadying herself. "My Lady, the very air is heavy with divinity. It presses against me… it feels as if every person here holds a spark of a god."
The Goddess nodded, her gaze calm but serious. "You are not mistaken. The mortals of this city are drenched in divine essence. If they were to awaken it, to shape it into strength, this city would rival even the oldest nations."
Selindra swallowed hard. "And at the center… there is something greater. Stronger. It nearly drowns out the rest."
"Yes." The Goddess's voice softened, reverent and certain. "That presence belongs to no mortal. It should belong to him. Atlas."
Selindra's eyes widened further. "Then it's true… the Son of Fate is here."
The Goddess's wings folded gracefully as she turned her gaze upon the glowing heart of the capital. Her smile was faint, but her eyes burned with something rare and bright.
"At last," she said. "Our search ends here."