THE CRIMSON PANTHEON

Chapter 2

A Scavenger jumped from a broken statue, landing heavily on Olivia’s back. Its sharp claws dug deep into her shoulder. Olivia screamed in pain. She dropped to one knee but managed to reach back, grabbing the small demon by the hair and slamming it onto the ground in front of her. She drove her sword through its head.

But the moment she did, the Abyssal Troll moved.

The giant monster stepped forward, raising its heavy stone club high into the air. Olivia looked up, her green eyes wide. She crossed her arms, holding her sword up to block, but it was useless.

The club crashed down.

The impact did not hit her directly, but it struck the ground right next to her. The sheer force of the blow shattered the stone floor. A shockwave of broken rocks and heavy dirt blasted into Olivia, throwing her violently across the courtyard. She hit a marble pillar with a sickening thud and fell to the ground, entirely still. Her sword slid out of her hand, the last spark of her magical fire dying out completely. The blade turned cold and dark.

"No!" Ronan screamed. Or, he tried to scream. All that came out was a wet, bloody gargle.

The sanctuary fell quiet, except for the crackling of the burning wood. The Scavengers hissed, slowly creeping toward Olivia's still body. The Abyssal Troll grunted, turning its huge, ugly head back toward Ronan.

Ronan’s vision was getting darker. The edges of his sight were turning black. The pain in his chest was fading, replaced by a terrible, freezing cold. It started in his toes and fingers, slowly creeping up his legs and arms toward his heart. He knew what this meant. He was dying.

He stared at Olivia’s body. Was she breathing? He couldn't tell. He felt hot tears slide down his cold cheeks. “I am sorry,” he thought. “I am so sorry, Olivia. I wasn't strong enough. I couldn't protect you.”

The Troll stepped closer. It stood right above him, a giant shadow blocking out the purple sky. The monster raised its giant foot, getting ready to stomp down and crush Ronan’s head like a ripe fruit.

Ronan did not close his eyes. He stared up past the monster, looking at the bleeding, purple sky one last time. He wanted power. He wanted it more than he had ever wanted anything in his entire life. He didn't want power to rule, or to be a king. He just wanted the power to save the woman lying broken in the dirt. He wanted the power to tear these monsters apart with his bare hands.

Suddenly, the sky tore open.

High above, far past the purple clouds, a deep, blinding crimson red light appeared. It was a falling star. A comet.

But it was not falling randomly. It was streaking straight down, moving impossibly fast, leaving a trail of pure red fire behind it. It looked like a drop of glowing, angry blood falling from the heavens.

The Troll did not notice. It brought its massive foot down.

But before the monster’s foot could touch Ronan’s face, the crimson comet crashed into the earth.

It did not hit the ground. It hit Ronan.

The comet struck him directly in the center of his crushed chest.

There was no sound. There was no explosion.

Instead, the entire world simply stopped.

Time froze completely.

The burning flames on the broken statues stopped moving, frozen like orange glass. The falling ash hung in the air, perfectly still. The Abyssal Troll was frozen like a terrible, ugly statue, its giant foot just one inch away from Ronan’s face. The smaller demons were frozen mid-step.

The cold feeling of death inside Ronan vanished. In its place was an intense, burning heat. It did not hurt. It felt like standing too close to a warm fire on a freezing winter night. The heat soaked into his skin, his muscles, and deep into his soul.

The ruined sanctuary faded away. The purple sky, the monsters, Olivia’s body—everything disappeared into darkness.

Ronan found himself floating in an endless, empty space. It was completely dark, except for a slow, pulsing red light that surrounded him. He looked down at his body. He was no longer covered in mud and blood. His clothes were gone, and his body was glowing with a faint, golden light.

“Where am I?” He tried to speak, but he had no mouth here. He only had his thoughts. “Am I dead?”

"Not yet, little mortal."

The voice echoed from everywhere and nowhere. It was a woman’s voice. It was soft, smooth, and incredibly beautiful. But it was also terrifying. It held the weight of oceans and the heat of thousands of suns. It was ancient. It was a primordial sound, older than the dirt, older than the sky. It wrapped around his mind like a warm, silk blanket, but he could feel sharp needles hidden inside the fabric.

"You are dying," the voice whispered, sounding amused. "Your mortal shell is broken. Your bones are dust. Your blood is painting the mud. In a fraction of a second, that beast will crush your head, and you will become nothing."

“Who are you?” Ronan thought, trying to push his will against the heavy presence of the voice.

"I am a fragment of what was. I am a Seed of the Old Pantheon. The gods of your world are dead, boy. They fought, they lost, and they shattered. Their seeds rained down upon this broken earth, looking for soil to grow again. Looking for a vessel."

The red light around Ronan pulsed faster. It felt like a giant heartbeat.

"Most mortals die when a Divine Seed touches them. Their bodies cannot hold the power of a god. They burn into ash. But you... you are interesting. Your desire... it is very loud. You want power."

I want to save her, Ronan answered honestly. He pictured Olivia in his mind. Her silver hair, her green eyes, the way she fought so hard for him. I want to kill the monsters that hurt her.

The ancient voice let out a low, dark laugh. It sent a shiver through Ronan’s floating soul.

"Such simple, mortal desires. But passion is passion. I am the Seed of Primordial Eros. The power of wild, untamed desire. The power of the flesh, of life, of creation, and of beautiful destruction. I can give you the strength you beg for. I can make you a god amongst these crawling insects."

Ronan felt a sudden rush of hope. Give it to me. I will do anything.

"Careful, mortal," the voice warned softly, the tone turning deadly serious. "The power of a god does not come for free. If you accept my Seed, you will change. The condition of my power is absolute. You will not gain strength through silent prayer. You will not gain strength through simple meditation."