Ughhh… finally.
The last of the festivities from last night are cleaned up. All the food was stored away, but the decorations took forever to dismantle and return to storage. It was fun—worth it—but exhausting. It's late in the day now, though I did sleep until late morning.
For once, I have spare time.
My thoughts drift to the book Kaelith gave me.
"Well… might as well read it," I mutter.
I head upstairs and pull it from the shelf in my room. Books line the walls—dozens of them. Each one holds a memory, a different time, a different version of me. I sit at my desk and stare at the book for a moment.
Whatever this is, I probably shouldn't share it. Kaelith made sure no one saw him give it to me.
I open the cover.
It's written in Common. He did say it was translated. Judging by the clean pages and fresh binding, this must be a recent copy.
On the first page, handwritten:
Well, Nyra. You have no idea who we truly are. This book explains our origins, our purpose, and what to expect if you join us.
I wish you the best.
— Kaelith
I smile despite myself. Of course he'd think of me while giving me this.
I turn the page.
An illustration fills it—figures gathered on the earth beneath a vast sky and a much bigger cloaked figure above them sitting on a throne looking at them.
In the beginning, God created the earth and humanity, and all was at peace. But as human existence expanded and their power grew, God realized his children needed guidance, lest they rebel against him.
The next page shows a woman with long silver hair, a faint purple aura surrounding her. She kneels before the cloaked figure.
Thus, he created a child from his own essence. The Goddess of the 25 was made to walk as human, to ease the hearts of mankind, and peace continued to reign.
I flip the page.
The goddess is crying now. Where her tears fall, flowers of purple and white bloom.
After spending time among humanity, the goddess came to pity them. She was destined to live forever, while their lives were fleeting. From her tears, a flower grew.
Humans discovered these flowers, consumed them, and learned that those who ate them no longer aged.
Immortality… for humanity? That can't be real.
I turn the page.
The goddess stands within a temple engulfed in flames. Amid the fire stands a lone figure.
In their greed, humanity sought both the flowers and the goddess who birthed them. As her temple was besieged and terror gripped her heart, one man stood against the crowd, urging them to stop. He declared that she was a being like them—that her gifts were hers alone to give.
A pit in my stomach forms. How could humans be so greedy? Another page.
The man kneels before the goddess.
This man moved her heart more than all of humanity. She bestowed upon him the very thing others sought—immortality and power—so he might stand beside her and help guide mankind.
The next page and illustration shows the goddess seated upon a throne, the man at her side. Four figures kneel before them, with countless others behind.
Together, the goddess and the man ruled, and for a time, the world prospered.
I turn the page.
The four kneeling figures now wear twisted smiles as they kneel before the cloaked god.
But in the ultimate betrayal, four lords chosen to govern the world went before the Creator. They claimed the goddess sought to make all men immortal, that with her at their side, God would no longer be needed.
The next page is chaos—fire, shattered land, destruction. It's a horrible sight to behold—screaming figures trapped in the flames, surrounded by unimaginable pain.
Enraged, the god descended upon the earth. In his fury, fire consumed the land and continents broke apart, all so he might reclaim his daughter.
My fingers tremble as I turn the page.
The goddess reaches for the man as she's dragged away.
As she was taken, the goddess did not beg for rescue. Instead, she asked him to rebuild humanity, to guide them toward peace—and when the time came, to save her from a father who showed no sympathy for human suffering.
My hand now shaky flips to the next page
It shows the man wearing a ring—just like Kaelith's—with twenty-four figures behind him.
Thus began the duty of the 25, blessed by the goddess herself, to rebuild humanity and one day free both her and mankind from the god who abandoned them.
That's… their mission?
I flip the page.
Blank.
Another page—blank.
All the way to the back.
At the center of the back of the book rests a large black gem, embedded into the book itself.
I set the book down slowly and grab the dagger Kaelith gave me. The purple hue along the blade seems brighter now. Warmer.
Why are so many pages empty?
What's already here is overwhelming enough.
Chosen by the goddess… the same goddess who pitied humanity. Someone who wanted to help everyone.
In a way… aren't we similar?
I've always tried to help where I can—just on a much smaller scale.
Is it wrong to refuse a calling like this? Especially when it could give answers about my parents?
The dagger grows warm in my hand. The glow intensifies.
Maybe I should stay here. Live quietly. Make a difference where I can.
But the 25… they try to change the world itself.
This is too much.
Suddenly, my window slams open.
I spin toward it, heart racing. There's no wind—none strong enough to do that.
A chill followed by a breeze brushes my neck.
Then a faint woman's voice whispers:
"Who are you?"
"What the—"
I jump back from the desk, scanning the room. Nothing. No one.
The dagger goes cold in my hand. The glow fades.
I drop it onto the desk, goosebumps prickling across my skin, and rush to shut the window.
Just hallucinations.
Just the wind.
I repeat it to myself over and over, hoping—desperately—that I believe it.