Atlas rose to his feet, his movements steady and deliberate, the faint smile on his lips hiding the venomous thoughts stirring within. "Now then," he said, his tone laced with authority, "it's time for you to fulfill my second condition."
Luminaria's golden eyes softened. She gave a quiet nod, and then, as though the fabric of reality itself bent to her command, the world shifted. The walls of the bedchamber dissolved into cascading light, the air thickened with the scent of parchment and ink, and before Atlas's very eyes, the room transformed into a vast library.
The ceiling arched into infinity, supported by marble columns inscribed with runes that shimmered faintly with divine energy. Thousands upon thousands of books lined shelves that stretched beyond sight, each volume glowing faintly with the resonance of knowledge too vast, too sacred, for any mortal library to contain.
Atlas's eyes widened despite himself. He tilted his head back, drinking in the sight, his chest tightening with both awe and envy. This… this power. A flick of her will, and the world obeys. To wield such authority… no wonder mortals kneel before her kind. His lips curled, masking greed with admiration.
"I figured it would be easier to give you access to the knowledge of my mind," Luminaria said gently, gesturing with her hand toward the shelves.
Her voice carried with it the resonance of truth, the weight of eternity. "Every book here contains what I know—about Deities, Constellations, and Gods."
Her hand waved again, and faint golden threads shimmered, weaving through the shelves, arranging themselves into a sequence.
"You are to read them in order," she continued. "Begin with the Deities—understand the nature of divinity itself, its ranks, its essence. Then proceed to the Constellations, for they shape the myths and sustain the domains of the gods.
Only once you grasp these can you approach the knowledge of Gods themselves."
Atlas's gaze flicked between the shelves as the threads pulsed faintly, marking the path of study. He said nothing, his mind already calculating the depth of this gift.
"And heed me, Atlas," Luminaria's tone sharpened with rare gravity. She stepped closer, her presence pressing down on him like a gentle but unyielding tide. "Do not attempt to absorb all this knowledge in a single swoop.
Even with your soul refined, the centuries I have lived cannot be digested at once. To rush would overwhelm you, and the burden of wisdom would shatter your mind, leaving you unable to retain even the smallest truth."
Atlas forced his lips into a faint smile, bowing his head in feigned gratitude. "Your caution is noted, Luminaria. I will… pace myself." His voice carried a convincing earnestness, but his thoughts swirled darker. Shatter my mind, is it? Then I'll take my time, until your every secret is mine.
But as his gaze returned to her, another thought sprouted. Her effortless command over reality, the way she summoned this vast ocean of knowledge—it tempted him more than the books themselves.
Atlas's eyes softened, his voice lowering to a tone almost reverent. "Luminaria…" He hesitated just enough to sell sincerity.
"I have one last request. This knowledge, these truths, they are invaluable. But what I desire most…"
He stepped closer, tilting his head, allowing his eyes to reflect a rare vulnerability. "…is to learn from you. To wield my divine power as you do, to shape it, to master it. Teach me… as your disciple."
The air grew still.
Luminaria regarded him silently, her expression unreadable at first. Then she shook her head, her flowing hair gleaming in the golden light of the library.
"No, Atlas." Her tone was gentle, but unyielding. "I cannot accept you as my disciple. Do not mistake my kindness for blindness—I can sense it within you. Chaos burns in your soul, restless and unrefined. Only a being of harmony, whose heart and will align with the order of life, may walk as my disciple." Her gaze pierced him, sharp as a blade cloaked in silk. "You… are not that being."
Atlas let his expression falter, his lips parting as though her words had cut him deeply. He lowered his head, his fists trembling faintly at his sides—whether from rage or pain, he made sure she could not tell.
"I see…" His voice cracked ever so slightly, enough to press against her guilt. "Then it's true. Even after all I've endured, even after all that was taken from me… I'm still not worthy in your eyes."
Luminaria's eyes softened, sorrow flickering across her features. His words struck the raw wound of her guilt.
Atlas slowly raised his gaze, meeting hers with a pained half-smile. "But perhaps… even if I cannot be your disciple, you could still guide me. Even a little. After all…"
His eyes glimmered faintly with hidden malice. "…you're the reason I'm here. The reason I suffer. If I am broken… then shouldn't you at least help mend me?"
The Goddess of Life's heart tightened.
She said nothing, but the silence itself betrayed her wavering.
Perfect, Atlas thought, his mask of sorrow never slipping. Her guilt is my leash.
Luminaria stood silent for a long while, her golden eyes fixed on Atlas as though weighing his very soul. Her aura rippled faintly, soft but heavy, like the breath of the world itself deciding whether to embrace or cast him aside.
At last, she exhaled, her expression softening into reluctant resolve. "Very well, Atlas," she said, her tone calm yet edged with hesitation.
"I will not take you as a disciple. That path is closed to you. But I… will guide you. I will help shape the foundation of your divinity, so that you may walk more firmly upon the road you have been forced onto."
Atlas bowed his head deeply, hiding the sly smirk tugging at his lips. Disciple? What care do I have for titles? She will teach me regardless, and that is enough. Every spell she shows me, every secret she parts with, will become mine.
"Thank you, Luminaria," Atlas said aloud, his voice softened with a genuine-seeming gratitude. "You don't know how much this means to me."
Her gaze lingered on him, searching for something deeper, but finding only a veil of sincerity. At last, she nodded, lifting her hand.
With a gesture, the golden light of the library shifted and condensed, forming into a luminous parchment that floated between them. Words etched themselves upon it in glowing script.
"This is the schedule I have prepared for you," she explained.
Her voice grew deliberate, every word precise, as though she feared he might misunderstand even the smallest detail.
"First half of the day will be devoted to Mana Sensitivity Training. You will cultivate through meditation, refining your awareness of divine currents and your own reservoir of power. A Deity must first be attuned to their essence before they can command it."
Atlas's eyes followed the glowing script as it adjusted, each line sharp and steady.
"The second half of the day will be Spell Casting Training. You will begin with the healing and restoration arts, the purest application of divine magic. They will teach you control, restraint, and the ability to mend instead of destroy."
Atlas fought to keep his lip from curling. Mend instead of destroy? Foolish woman. I'll bend these spells to my will—if healing can restore, then surely it can also corrupt.
"Half of the night will be devoted to Mental Training," Luminaria continued, her tone firm. "This will strengthen your will, sharpen your thoughts, and help you resist the chaos within. Only with discipline can a Deity keep their power from consuming them."
Finally, the script blazed with its last directive:
"The other half of the night will be for study. You will read from my mental archive, the knowledge I have laid before you. Begin with the nature of Deities, then progress step by step into higher truths."
Atlas gave a slow nod, his heart racing at the thought of how much ground he would cover. Every waking moment dedicated to power… good. With this pace, it won't be long before I surpass even you, Luminaria.
Her golden eyes fixed on him one last time, soft but unwavering. "Know this, Atlas. Deities have no need for sleep. Their essence sustains them, and their divinity renews them. Rest, in time, will be a choice you no longer require. And so… from now on, you will not waste a single hour. Every moment will be bent toward your growth."
Atlas clenched his fists subtly, the smirk within him hidden beneath a mask of determination. Perfect. Not even the relief of sleep. Every hour, every breath, devoted to the one thing I crave—power.
He bowed once more. "As you command, Luminaria."
But behind his lowered gaze, his eyes burned with ambition. Not as my guide… not as my teacher. As my stepping stone.