The library was eerily silent, the kind of silence that made Gabe's own footsteps sound deafening as he made his way through the towering shelves. The scent of aged paper and ink lingered in the air, mingling with the faint waxy scent of a single candle burning at the farthest desk.
Marisel sat hunched over a pile of books, her fingers resting against a thick tome bound in something suspiciously like animal hide. The flickering candlelight cast shifting shadows across her face, making her look even more exhausted than she had earlier that day. The rest of the library was swallowed in darkness, the only other source of illumination being the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the ceiling-high glass windows.
"Gabe, you made it," she exhaled, relief evident in her voice. Before he could say anything, she reached for his arm, tugging him down into the chair she had been occupying.
His gaze fell to the books in front of him, thick with dust and time. Some were bound in dried palm leaves, others in materials he couldn't even begin to name. They weren't books in the way he understood them, they were relics. Artifacts. Their pages held history far older than modern civilization itself.
"What is this?" Gabe asked, frowning as his eyes skimmed over the strange, looping script covering the pages. The language was ancient, unreadable to him.
"This," Marisel said, her voice low and careful, "is history. History written by the native tribes of the Gir forest."
Gabe's frown deepened as he looked up at her. "Why are you showing me this?"
Marisel took a slow, steady breath before meeting his gaze. "Because it holds the truth, about Deroki and... about you."
Gabe stilled. A strange chill crawled up his spine.
"Deroki and me?" He frowned, shaking his head. "What do you mean, me? I don't understand."
Marisel's expression was unreadable. "What I'm about to tell you might seem hard to believe," she admitted, "but I promise, it will make sense." She leaned closer, voice dropping into a near whisper. "Think about it, Gabe. Why do you think Deroki paid special attention to you? Why did he pursue you in a way he never did with anyone else? Why did he make you fall in love with him, only to shatter your heart?"
Gabe's chest tightened, memories threatening to resurface. "I don't... "
Marisel cut him off. "Do you think he does that to just anyone?" She shook her head. "There's a reason, Gabe. A history. A history that ties the two of you together, one that began long before you were ever born."
Gabe swallowed, his pulse pounding in his ears.
He listened.
Marisel's voice was quiet but steady, the candlelight casting flickering shadows on her face as she spoke.
"Deroki and you, Gabe, are bound by a history that stretches back thousands of years, back when civilizations were still primitive, when people lived in huts and caves. There were no kings, no kingdoms, no gods as we know them today. Back then, we weren't 'gods' either. We were simply beings from another realm, possessing elemental powers that humans mistook for divine magic.
Because we were far stronger than mortals, our elders foresaw the danger in our existence. What if we turned against each other? What if we became a threat to the balance of the world? To prevent such destruction, they forged a weapon, one so powerful that it could kill even us. Without it, the only way for our kind to die was to willingly unravel our own existence, to dematerialize into nothingness. But this weapon could bypass that, severing our connection to the reality itself.
This weapon was hidden within a colossal structure made by Gir tribe artisans with the help of elder gods, deep in the sacred forest, protected by the native tribes who lived there. Only they could access the tower. It became their sworn duty to guard the weapon, ensuring that no being, god or mortal, could wield it recklessly.
But as time passed, not all gods were content with peace. Some began to hunger for power, seeking dominion over the mortal world. They feared the existence of the weapon, for it meant mortals held power over them. And so, they plotted to claim it.
Our elders, who had lived for millions of years, eventually chose to fade away, leaving behind a younger generation of gods who did not share their wisdom. These gods devised a cruel plan. If the Gir Tribe would not surrender the weapon willingly, they would be forced to their knees.
And so, the gods unleashed calamities upon them, one after another. Famine. Plague. Drought. Storms that tore their homes apart. Crops that withered before they could be harvested. The suffering was relentless. Children starved. The elderly perished. The people of Gir had no idea how to end their misery. They prayed. They pleaded. But the gods remained silent, watching, waiting for them to break.
Then, amidst this despair, an omega boy was born.
He grew up witnessing the suffering of his people, watching his loved ones die one by one. When he reached maturity, he could no longer bear it. Determined to save his people, he left his home and took residence in the Swathil, vowing to seek divine mercy.
The structure, now a temple, known as Swathil, had been dedicated to one god in particular: Deroki, the god of fortune. His grandparents had adored Deroki, filling the temple with carvings and sculptures in his honor. Naturally, the omega boy prayed to him the most, whispering desperate pleas into the cold stone halls.
For years, he spent hours each day in devotion, calling upon the gods, begging for them to end the suffering. Eventually, the gods responded, but not in the way he had hoped.
They told him that if he wished for peace, he must give them the weapon. He refused. He knew the weapon was humanity's only means of defense. Instead, he made them a promise, one that he believed was fair. If they spared his people, he vowed that the weapon would never be used to strike first. It would serve only as a deterrent, to be wielded only if the gods attacked first.
But that promise was not enough for them.
So they devised another plan."
Marisel took a deep breath, her gaze dark with the weight of history.
"They sent Deroki, the most charming of all gods, the one the omega boy had prayed to the most, to seduce him."
Marisel exhaled softly, her fingers tightening around the edges of the ancient text as if steadying herself. "Deroki has always been a seducer, hasn't he?"
Gabe gulped. "That sounds about right."
"But this time, it backfired," Marisel murmured. "The seducer became the seduced."
She glanced up at Gabe, her voice lowering as she continued. "Deroki visited the omega priest every day. At first, it was simply part of his mission, to charm the mortal, to earn his trust. But something changed. Their conversations stretched for hours. They learned about each other's worlds, their dreams, their fears. What had begun as a manipulation turned into something real. The god of fortune, an immortal being who had never known true attachment, fell in love with his own devotee."
Gabe listened, enraptured, as Marisel's words wove a tale he could hardly believe.
"When Deroki pleaded with the other gods to stop tormenting the Gir Tribe, they refused. His failure to fulfill his task infuriated them, and in retaliation, they cursed the omega priest with an agonizing sickness, one that would slowly, painfully, steal his life away.
Deroki was beside himself with rage. He couldn't bear to see his lover suffer. In desperation, he begged the priest to reveal the weapon's location, swearing that he would never use it to harm a mortal. He promised he would only wield it as a warning, a deterrent to keep the gods in check.
The priest, trusting Deroki, finally revealed the weapon's hiding place.
Deroki didn't waste time. He turned the weapon to the gods but he wanted something more inexcharge. He not only wanted the omega to be healed. But also to make him immortal so he could stay by Deroki's side forever, to live with him in the immortal realm for all eternity."
Gabe let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Deroki... fell in love?" he whispered, almost in disbelief.
"Yes," Marisel said softly. "Madly. Desperately."
She turned a page, the ancient text crackling slightly under her fingertips. "They agreed to Deroki's demands readily. Deroki gave them the weapon.
And for the first time, Deroki saw a future where he didn't have to lose the person he loved. Where they could be together, without pain, without fear. But gods were a step ahead of him."
She hesitated, and Gabe sensed there was more. "What did they do?"
Marisel's expression darkened. "But the gods had hidden a cruel twist in their bargain. One cannot become immortal unless they choose to."
Gabe felt his stomach drop. "The priest... he didn't agree, did he?"
Marisel shook her head, the weight of tragedy settling over them. "The gods, in their cruelty, spread lies among the Gir Tribe. They told the people that the omega had betrayed them, that he had conspired with a god to trade away the sacred weapon in exchange for immortality.
The betrayal enraged the people. They stormed the tower, furious and heartbroken, and stabbed the priest to death before Deroki could reach him."
Gabe swallowed, his throat dry. "And Deroki?"
"When he arrived, he was devastated. He begged the gods to keep their promise, to bring his lover back, to make him immortal so they could be together. The gods did resurrect the omega's soul and asked if he would accept immortality."
Marisel's voice turned sorrowful. "But when the priest learned what Deroki had done, that he had traded the weapon, had placed the fate of his people in jeopardy for his sake, he was furious.
He refused."
Gabe's heart pounded. "And Deroki? What did he do?"
"He pleaded. He swore his love, promised they could still be together. But the priest would not change his mind. As his soul prepared to leave his mortal body once more, he turned to Deroki and made him a vow.
If Deroki could retrieve the weapon from the gods and return it to the Gir Tribe, the priest would take twenty rebirths. And in each life, Deroki would have a chance to convince him to accept immortality."
Marisel finally looked up, her eyes gleaming with something unreadable. "Clutching onto the only hope he had left, Deroki agreed."
A sinking feeling weighed heavily in Gabe's chest. He felt as though a thread was pulling at the very fabric of his existence, unraveling something long buried.
Marisel's voice was steady, but there was an unmistakable sadness in her eyes as she continued.
"Deroki fought relentlessly, almost brought the immortal real down to take back the weapon from the gods. He defied their wrath, their punishments, and their endless schemes, all for the sake of the mortal he had loved and lost. In the end, he succeeded. He tore the weapon from their grasp and returned it to the natives, to the very people who it belonged to. But they did not welcome him as a savior. They despised him. To them, he was not a god who had stolen the weapon gifted to them for their safety, he was the betrayer who had given their only defense to the very beings they feared. They cursed his name and turned their backs on him.
"The gods, watching from above, were neither merciful nor forgiving. They stripped Deroki of his godhood, banishing him from the celestial realm. They cast him into the void that lay between the worlds, a forgotten existence where neither time nor worship could reach him. As civilizations rose and fell, as mortals built temples and wrote scriptures, he remained a whisper lost in the wind. The gods ensured that his name would never be spoken in reverence, that no altars would be built in his honor. He became nothing."
Marisel exhaled, her fingers tightening around the edges of the book before her. "And yet, Deroki never gave up. He waited. Because he knew the omega would return. And he did, again and again. Lifetime after lifetime, the omega was reborn, always drawn back to Deroki, always falling in love with him. But the gods would never allow them to be together. Each time, they cut the omega's life short, ripping him away before he could ever truly choose his fate. And each time, when asked if he would take immortality and end this cycle, the omega refused. No matter how many times Deroki pleaded, begged, or tried to persuade him, the answer was always the same."
Gabe's breath came shallow as realization set in. His hands clenched into fists. "I... I'm that omega, aren't I?" His voice was barely above a whisper, laced with dread.
Marisel sighed. "Yes, Gabe. You are."
The weight of her words settled over him like a crushing boulder. But she wasn't finished.
"This time, however, things are different," she said. "Not only is this your final life, but Deroki... he's changed. He gave up on trying to convince you to become immortal two centuries ago. He stopped waiting for you to choose him."
Gabe looked up sharply, confused. "Then what does he want now?"
Marisel hesitated, then said gravely, "Vengeance. When the wife of the Kalika King prayed to Deroki, it was the first time in centuries that a human had uttered his name in prayer. She begged him for a child, and Deroki saw an opportunity. Not to be with you, not to find love again, but to bring destruction. He was reborn as a human not because he wished to experience mortality, but because he wanted to destroy everything, the gods, the mortals, the world itself."
Gabe felt his stomach drop. "Destroy everything?"
Marisel nodded. "Yes. The hatred and heartbreak he has carried for millennia have consumed him. Becoming a king has given him power, influence, and most importantly, a chance to reclaim the weapon. He has already found it, Gabe. He plans to use it. He will aid the Marcella King in destroying humanity, while he himself will bring ruin to the immortal realm."
Gabe brought his hand to his mouth, his fingers trembling. "He's going to wipe out both realms," he murmured.
"That," Marisel said softly, "is what centuries of betrayal, loss, and pain will do to someone."
Gabe swallowed hard. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "So... what do you expect me to do?" he asked, a sharp edge of frustration in his voice. "Do you want me to just become immortal? To... fix him? Make him happy?"
Marisel shook her head firmly. "No. You cannot do that. You cannot fake it. You cannot lie to him or pretend. If you do not truly desire immortality in your heart, it will never work."
"Then what?" Gabe demanded. "What do you want from me?"
Marisel took a deep breath, her gaze steady. "Do you know why you were raised in the monastery, Gabe? Even though you were born on the other side of the world, far from Hestros? It wasn't a coincidence. I took it upon myself to stop the disaster I knew was coming. I trained you, prepared you, because I knew that one day you would have to make a choice."
Gabe stared at her, heart pounding.
She exhaled slowly and finally said, "I need you to kill him, Gabe. Take the weapon from him and end his life."
Gabe felt like the air had been sucked from his lungs. His chest ached, his mind spun. "You... want me to kill him?" he whispered.
"You are the Truth Bearer," Marisel said firmly. "You are the native and few remaining of your tribe are still trying to kill him but he is way too strong for them. And you made a promise, long ago, when this all began. You vowed that the weapon would only be used for defense. Now is that time, Gabe. If you don't stop him, no one will."
Gabe's vision blurred for a moment, his thoughts a tangled mess of emotions. Could he do it? Could he truly end Deroki's life? No matter how much he hated him, no matter how much pain Deroki had caused, the idea of killing him made Gabe's chest tighten unbearably.
Gabe's breath came in uneven gasps as the weight of Marisel's words settled deep within him. His hands trembled, his chest tight with a conflict so fierce it felt like his ribs would crack under the pressure.
Kill Deroki.
He squeezed his eyes shut, as if doing so could block out the command. The man who had haunted his soul for lifetimes, the god who had once loved him so deeply that he defied heaven and earth for him... was now the monster he was supposed to slay.
"I can't," Gabe whispered.
Marisel's expression remained calm, but there was steel in her eyes. "You must."
He shook his head violently. "I can't!" His voice cracked, raw with emotion. "You think I don't understand what he's done? You think I don't know what will happen if he succeeds? But you're asking me to kill someone. I love... "
He stopped himself before the word could slip past his lips.
Loved.
He had loved Deroki in every lifetime, no matter how brief, no matter how tragic. And now, he was supposed to end him.
"Gabe," Marisel said softly, her voice almost maternal now, as if she saw the child in him, the scared, lost boy she had raised in the monastery, the boy who had searched for answers his whole life. "Look at me."
He refused.
She stepped closer, her warm hands settling over his shoulders. "I know it hurts," she murmured. "I know you want to believe there's another way. But tell me, do you truly think you can reason with him? Do you want to become an immortal? I know the idea of living indefinitely scares you. It has always scared you."
Gabe clenched his teeth, his breathing ragged. "He might listen to me," he insisted, though even to his own ears, the words sounded weak.
"Will he?" Marisel challenged, tilting her head.
Gabe's fingers dug into his palms.
Marisel let out a slow sigh. "I don't ask this of you lightly. You know that. You think I want you to suffer? That I want you to carry the burden of this choice?"
She stepped back, her gaze searching his, filled with something he rarely saw from her, regret.
"If I thought there was another way," she admitted, "I would have found it. As your memory would return of your past life so will your sense of betrayal that he committed towards you. You will only hate him more. You will not ever want to have a immortal life with him."
Gabe's throat felt tight, raw realising Marisel was right.
His hands curled into fists. "You said I swore to only use the weapon in defense."
Marisel nodded.
"Then tell me," Gabe murmured. "If I don't do this, if I don't stop him, how many will die?"
She didn't hesitate. "Everyone."
The word struck him like a knife to the chest.
Gabe closed his eyes, taking in a slow, shuddering breath. His heart ached, his entire soul felt like it was splitting in two. But in the end, he already knew his answer.
He had always known.
When he finally opened his eyes, there was no hesitation left in them.
"Where is the weapon?" he asked.
Marisel exhaled, her shoulders relaxing, just barely.
"It's with him," she said. "And you have to acquire it like he did with you."
Gabe squared his shoulders, his chest tight with unspoken grief. But he pushed it down. He had no more time to mourn what could have been.
He had a world to save.
Even if it meant breaking his own heart to do it.