#8
The seasons changed in Sylvain.
From the classroom window, Aelia watched the silver leaves on the trees beyond the city slowly turn yellow — a sign that even in this foreign world, time still followed a rhythm. The children in front of her were learning to write, their small faces filled with endearing concentration.
"Teacher Aelia," asked Elara, an eight-year-old girl with pale blue eyes inherited from her Aether-Touched father, "are all gods evil?"
The classroom fell silent at once. Every eye turned toward her.
Aelia set down the chalk. "Not all. Only… lost ones."
"Like Devaros?"
"Like Devaros."
"Are there any good gods?"
Before Aelia could answer, a voice cut in from the doorway.
"That is a difficult question."
All heads turned. Standing at the threshold was a man — or something resembling one. His height was ordinary, his simple gray clothing unremarkable, his face plain except for his eyes: two pale blue crystal spheres slowly rotating within their sockets.
The children were silent, but not afraid. Only curious.
Aelia stood. "May I ask who—"
"My name is Kaelen," the man said, his voice calm yet somehow reaching every corner of the room. "God of Free Will. And I come in peace."
The teachers' room — really just a small storage space converted into an office — suddenly felt far too small to contain a god.
Kaelen sat on a simple wooden chair, hands folded on the table. He looked nothing like the image of a deity: no radiance, no grandeur, even his clothes were worn in places.
"You're not what I imagined," Aelia said as she poured tea.
"Most gods enjoy theatrics. I prefer practicality." Kaelen accepted the cup and inhaled the aroma. "Silverwood leaf tea. Good."
"What brings you here?"
"To observe. And perhaps… to help." His crystal eyes spun faster. "You and this community have done something unprecedented in the history of the strata: you created a place where humans can truly choose."
"We didn't create it. We only… continued what someone else started."
"Ghei Niruise." Kaelen spoke the name with understanding. "I observed him. From afar. He was like… a quiet storm. Moving straight toward his goal without wavering."
"And you didn't stop him?"
"Why would I? He was exercising free will. That is my principle." Kaelen sipped his tea. "Devaros was… both my friend and my opponent. He believed freedom must be guided. I believe freedom must be absolute."
"Are you angry that we killed him?"
Kaelen was silent for a moment. "Angry? No. Sad? Yes. But also… relieved. Devaros had suffered for a long time. Being a god is like a chronic illness — you cannot stop being what you are."
"He was human once. Davian."
Kaelen's crystal eyes stopped spinning. "You know."
"I touched his throne. I saw his memories."
"Then you understand." Kaelen exhaled — a strangely human gesture for a god. "Davian feared death. Becoming Devaros was his escape from that fear. Ironically, by becoming immortal, he trapped himself forever in the very fear he sought to flee."
"And you?" Aelia asked. "What do you fear?"
A smile appeared on Kaelen's face — small, sad. "I fear… that no one will choose freedom. That when given a choice, humans will choose to be ruled. That they will prefer the certainty of tyranny over the uncertainty of freedom."
Kaelen decided to remain in Sylvain for a while — "remain" in the sense that he appeared occasionally, observed, sometimes spoke with the people.
He was not worshiped. No one asked him for miracles. He simply… existed.
Strangely, the people accepted him easily. Perhaps because after Ghei, they were accustomed to strangeness. Perhaps because Kaelen demanded nothing.
One afternoon, he sat on a bench near the portal, watching a young woman who had stood before it for an hour without moving.
"She hesitates," Kaelen said as Aelia approached.
"Most people do."
"That is natural. Choosing between existence and non-existence is the hardest choice of all." Kaelen gazed at the portal. "This portal… is a work of art. Made of frozen Null Echo and pure desire for freedom. Even I could not create it."
"Are you jealous?"
"A little. But more… impressed." He turned to Aelia. "Ghei never realized it, but he created something greater than himself. He wanted to disappear, yet left an eternal mark."
The young woman finally stepped away from the portal, choosing not to leave.
"See," Kaelen whispered. "She chose life. But for the first time, it was truly her choice, not coercion."
Kaelen began helping in Aelia's classroom — not as a teacher, but as a "guest speaker."
The children loved him. Perhaps because he answered every question honestly, even the difficult ones.
"Can gods die?" a boy asked.
"Yes. But not like humans. A god's death is more like… a forgotten concept."
"Will you die?"
"One day. When no one believes in freedom anymore."
"I believe!" Elara exclaimed.
Kaelen smiled — warm this time. "Then I still exist."
After class, Aelia and Kaelen walked along the edge of the city.
"They aren't afraid of you," Aelia said.
"Because I do not demand fear. I ask for thought." Kaelen plucked a silver leaf from a tree. "Devaros was wrong about one thing: he believed humans needed gods. What they need is space to be themselves."
"And if being themselves means choosing death?"
"Then that is their choice. Freedom includes the freedom to stop."
Aelia halted. "You truly believe that."
"It is the core of my existence." Kaelen looked at her. "Just as Null Echo was the core of Ghei. We are all principles given form."
That night, Kaelen took Aelia to a special place: the top of an observation tower built from the ruins of one of Devaros' smaller temples.
From there, they could see all of Sylvain — the lights of homes, the softly glowing gray portal, and in the distance, the two eternal moons.
"Once," Kaelen said, "Devaros and I often met in places like this. We argued. He called me naive. I called him anxious."
"Who was right?"
"Both. And neither." Kaelen leaned on the railing. "Truth is like those moons — two sides, both real."
He fell silent for a moment, then spoke more softly. "I regret not helping Davian while he was still human. I existed back then. But I thought… let him find his own way. That was a mistake."
"You can't save everyone."
"No. But I can try." He turned to Aelia. "Like you did with the souls in the garden. You didn't have to. But you chose to."
Aelia looked down at the city. "It felt… right."
"Most good choices do. Not because they are easy, but because they align with who we are."
A few days later, an incident occurred.
A group of Devaros' remaining loyalists — from a distant village beyond the mountains — stormed Sylvain. They were furious that the "god-killing city" still stood, and they viewed the portal as an insult.
"Shut down that demonic portal!" shouted their leader, an old priest whose arms were covered in tattoos of Devaros' eye.
The people of Sylvain gathered, but this time not defensively. They simply stood between the priest and the portal, silent.
Kaelen appeared — not dramatically, simply stepping out of the crowd.
"Enough," he said. His voice was not loud, yet it cut through the noise.
The priest froze. "You… you are…"
"Kaelen. God of Free Will. And I say: let them be."
"They killed a god!"
"And that god imprisoned them without consent. That is called justice."
The priest trembled — not with fear, but with anger mixed with confusion. "You should defend us! You are a god!"
"I defend freedom. And their freedom includes choosing not to live." Kaelen stepped closer. "Leave. Pray to Devaros if you wish. But do not force others to live by what you believe is right."
Tension hung heavy. Aelia nearly stepped forward, but Kaelen raised a gentle hand — a sign to wait.
At last, the priest retreated. He and his followers left in fury — but they left.
After they were gone, Kaelen addressed the people of Sylvain:
"Freedom does not mean the absence of opposition. Opposition is what proves your freedom is real. If everyone agrees, perhaps you are not truly free — only unanimous."
The people nodded, then dispersed. No cheers. Just acknowledgment.
That night, Kaelen came to say goodbye to Aelia.
"I must go. There are other places that need the principle of freedom."
"Will you return?"
"Perhaps. But not as a god. As a… friend." His crystal eyes spun slowly. "Gods are outdated concepts. One day, I may choose not to be a god anymore."
"Like Ghei chose not to be human?"
"Similar. But more… voluntary." Kaelen looked at her. "You have done good work here. Continue. And remember: sometimes the hardest choice is choosing to stay, not to leave."
"I know."
"And if one day you choose to leave…" Kaelen gestured toward the portal. "…that is valid too."
He then handed Aelia something: a small blue crystal, warm to the touch.
"It contains the principle of Free Will. Not to be worshiped. But to remind you that choice exists, even when it feels like it doesn't."
Aelia accepted it. "Thank you."
Kaelen nodded, then turned away. With each step, his body became more transparent, until he vanished completely — not by teleportation, but by choosing not to be seen.
A few days after Kaelen's departure, Aelia sat alone in the empty classroom, holding the blue crystal.
Elara entered hesitantly.
"Teacher Aelia… I have a question."
"What is it?"
"If… if someone chooses to go through the portal, does that mean they are weak?"
Aelia inhaled. A heavy question from a child.
"No," she said softly. "Sometimes, choosing to leave requires a different kind of strength. And choosing to stay also requires strength."
"What kind of strength?"
"The strength to accept that life… is imperfect. That sometimes it hurts. That sometimes it is lonely." Aelia looked at the crystal in her hand. "But also the strength to see small beautiful things. Like warm tea. Like a friend's laughter. Like a clever student's question."
Elara smiled. "I choose warm tea."
"And that is a good choice."
The child ran off, and Aelia was alone again.
She looked out the window, toward the portal standing quietly in the city center.
Perhaps tomorrow someone would leave. Perhaps tomorrow someone would arrive.
But what mattered, as Kaelen said, was that the choice existed.
And in a world that so often takes our choices away, having a choice — any choice — is a luxury.
A luxury paid for dearly by a man who only wanted to stop.
But now, Aelia thought as she held the blue crystal, it belonged to all of them.
To cherish.
To use.
Or not to use.
Their choice.
X8
An unrecorded conversation between Kaelen and Aelia:
"Was Ghei happy in the end?"
"I don't know. But I know he was at peace."
"What's the difference?"
"Happiness needs a reason. Peace only needs acceptance."
"And did he accept?"
"He accepted that he wanted to stop. And that is more than most people ever do."