The sun rose over Aramoor like a slow-breathing giant, its early light gilding the rooftops and market streets in sleepy gold. But beneath that warm glow, the city trembled with a secret it did not yet understand. Mortals felt uneasy without knowing why. Priests hesitated in their morning prayers. Gods, even the smallest among them, paused in their unseen shrines and frowned toward the earth.
Something old was stirring under Aramoor's cobblestones.
Something very old.
In the upper room of the inn belonging to Aelus, the minor god of Hearth and Comfort, disguised as a simple innkeeper, Dream sat quietly, using the face he had chosen for the mortal world: Varos. He poured warm tea into two cups. Across the table, Erias wolfed down bread and dried fruit with the ferocity of a boy who had never known abundance.
Aelus hovered by the window, wringing his hands.
"Something comes," he murmured, more to himself than to Dream.
Dream didn't look up from the tea.
"Yes," he said simply.
Erias glanced between them, brow furrowed. "Varos… what's wrong?"
Dream offered him a small, harmless smile. "Nothing you need fear."
Aelus turned sharply toward the door just as three firm knocks echoed through the inn.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Aelus's shoulders tensed.
Dream placed his cup down gently.
"Allow me," he whispered, rising to his feet.
Erias followed him instinctively.
Dream opened the door.
Standing outside was a young priest in red-and-grey temple robes, with the mark of flaming scales Torvas's symbol embroidered at his chest. His face was pale with purpose and tension.
But the moment his eyes fell on Aelus behind Dream, he froze.
Then dropped into a deep bow.
"L-Lord Aelus," he stammered. "Minor god of Hearth and Comfort… forgive the intrusion. I had no idea this inn was yours."
Aelus grimaced softly. "Priest, rise. You need not bow like that here."
The priest rose, though reverence still held him.
"I come under direct order from the Temple of Torvas," he said. "We seek two individuals who entered the city yesterday; a man… and a boy."
His eyes shifted to Dream. Then to Erias.
"I believe they are you."
Erias stepped back instinctively, placing a hand on Dream's sleeve.
Dream spoke calmly.
"And why does the Temple of Torvas summon us?"
The priest swallowed.
"When you entered the city," he said, voice trembling with restrained awe, "the sacred fire within Torvas's altar… reacted. Violently. It has only done so five times in recorded history."
He looked at Erias again.
"And it reacted to both of you."
Dream's face revealed nothing.
Erias looked confused and frightened.
The young priest's voice dropped to a near whisper.
"There is something inside you. Both of you. Something I cannot name. Not divine… not mortal... something older."
He bowed again to Aelus.
"Lord Aelus… the High Priest commanded that these two be brought to the temple. I must fulfil my duty."
Aelus exhaled, troubled. "Priest… these two are under my protection. And you ask too much."
"I understand," the young priest said urgently. "But I must obey."
Before Aelus could answer, Dream stepped forward and placed a hand gently on Aelus's shoulder.
"It is all right," Dream said softly.
Aelus hesitated. "Varos…"
Dream only nodded once.
"We will go."
Relief washed over the young priest's face.
"Then please follow me."
Dream and Erias stepped out into the street. Aelus watched with worried eyes until the three disappeared around the corner.
The city was waking now, vendors opening stalls, pots boiling, birds darting between rooftops, but as Dream and Erias passed, the crowd's mood shifted. People lowered their voices. Some stepped aside unconsciously. Others looked over their shoulders, as if sensing storms wrapped in flesh.
Dream walked with effortless calm.
The priest went ahead, glancing back frequently as if unable to help himself.
At last, as they passed under stone arches draped in banners of fire red and smoke grey, the priest asked quietly:
"Do you… know what it is that lives within you?"
Dream answered with a faint smile that held no warmth.
"Some things," he said, "are not meant to be known."
The priest shivered but said no more.
Eventually, the great statues of Torvas came into view, two giants carved from obsidian, holding scales of flame high above the city square. Beneath them sat the monumental Temple of Torvas, its black-stone steps perfectly worn by worshippers over centuries.
The young priest stopped at the base of the steps.
"This is where I must leave you," he said, bowing deeply to Dream and then to Erias. "I am only a low-rank priest. Only those summoned by the High Priest may cross further."
He pulled a short iron chain hidden in the stone.
The temple's colossal doors slid open with a grinding thunder.
The priest stepped aside.
"You must go alone. Someone will meet you inside."
Dream entered the temple without hesitation.
Erias swallowed and hurried after him.
The heavy doors closed behind them with a resounding boom.
A long hall stretched ahead, lit by rows of blue fire. Murals of Torvas prophet`s great battles lined the walls.
The air smelled faintly of incense and burning metal.
Before they reached the second arch, footsteps echoed from deeper within.
Another priest emerged a man older than the first, with sharp, intelligent eyes and a staff crowned with a softly glowing ember. His crimson robes bore a silver lining, marking him as a mid-tier priest.
He bowed with measured respect.
"You were expected," he said. "The High Priest has prepared for your arrival."
Dream nodded once.
Erias stared at the tall priest, unsure whether to bow or speak or run.
The priest turned and began leading them deeper into the temple.
As they walked through corridors carved with flame motifs, he spoke without looking back.
"Torvas's fire roared when you crossed into Aramoor. Even the High Priest was shaken. Something in you stirred the sacred flames."
He paused, then added:
"Not just in the man… but in the boy as well."
Erias flinched and looked quickly at Dream, who continued walking in silence.
The priest's steps echoed sharply across the stone floor.
"We have seen mortals touch divine power before," he said. "But never has Torvas felt compelled to awaken so suddenly."
He slowed as they approached a towering pair of stone doors twice the height of any mortal king, etched with runes of justice glowing faintly beneath layers of dust.
"This is as far as I go."
He placed one hand gently on the door. Runes flared to life, shimmering gold, pulsing as if responding to something deep within Dream.
Slowly, heavily, the doors parted.
Warm light spilt from the chamber beyond.
The priest stepped aside and bowed deeply.
"The High Priest of Torvas awaits within," he said. "May the scales judge you fairly."
Dream entered the inner hall with steady footsteps.
Erias followed, heart pounding, spine tingling as if he walked into destiny itself.
The doors closed behind them with a hollow, final echo.
Inside, beneath a colossal statue of Torvas holding his flaming scales, stood a man in gold-woven robes, his eyes burning like embers.
The High Priest.
He watched them silently.
For a long moment…
Nothing moved.
Then he spoke:
"Welcome."