The God's killer

Echoes of the First Word

Chapter 31: Echoes of the First Word

The storm above the Celestial Deep had not lifted since Kael tore through the veil of the Skyward Vault. Thunder churned in golden swells, the sky a whirl of prismatic fire—signs of the world recoiling from the awakening of forbidden truths. But below the chaos, in the shadows of the forgotten lands where even time hesitated to tread, Kael and his companions stood before the gates of the lost divine library—Yll'tanir, the Archive of the First Word.

Carved into the mountain's heart, its obsidian doors were etched with scripts no mortal tongue could shape, breathing in an ancient rhythm that pulsed like the heartbeat of a slumbering titan. Lira stepped forward, her eyes shining with the afterglow of her celestial form. Her wings flickered with violet fire, a remnant of her now fully awakened soul.

Kael’s fingers brushed the glyphs. This place remembers me… but not fondly.

Behind him, Seris, now wielding the mirrored blade once belonging to the traitor-god Veyr, narrowed her eyes. “We’re running out of time. The divine scent of your covenant with Lira has stirred more than just the gods. The Old Things stir in their deep burrows.”

Kael gave her a knowing nod. “Then let’s not waste it.”

With a breath laced in divinity, Kael whispered in the tongue of creation, and the doors of Yll’tanir moaned open.

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Within the Library of the First Word

The interior was beyond vast—an infinite cascade of floating walkways and drifting memory stones suspended in golden starlight. Living flame shaped like serpents slithered between vaulted shelves, illuminating secrets untouched for eons.

As Kael moved, memories surged from the walls. Visions of his past life as Kael’tharion, Firstborn of Flame, Destroyer of the Red Moon, and Heir to the Infinite Cycle. He saw his kin—gods in splendid ruin—plotting his end. A knife in his back. A whisper in his mind. The cold nothingness that followed.

Lira walked beside him, her hand brushing his. “Do you remember it all now?”

“Almost,” he said, voice like cracked thunder. “But what I need most is still buried—the location of the Godslayer Shard. It was hidden here… sealed away.”

As they ventured deeper, Seris stayed alert. She noticed how Kael and Lira moved in rhythm now, their bond no longer restrained by uncertainty. And though she would never say it aloud, the sight of them together—Kael’s black-eyed calm, Lira’s luminous wrath—made even her question her loyalties.

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Far Beyond – The Court of the Ancient Ones

In the Hall of Hollow Stars, where light and shadow convened with no time to bind them, the ancient gods gathered.

Not the gods Kael once knew, but their precursors—creatures of concept and creation. The Three Nameless, The Weaver of Time’s Breath, and the Stone-Faced Judge.

“He is becoming what he was,” rumbled one.

“He has already become something more,” whispered another.

The Stone-Faced Judge finally moved. “Do we aid the god who defied his kind, or do we wipe clean the slate of divinity and let this world begin anew?”

Their council crackled with conflicting truths. One vision showed Kael as a flame that devours—another as a beacon that frees.

“Then we watch,” said the Weaver. “And test. Should he survive the next trial… we may yet speak with him ourselves.”

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Back Within Yll’tanir

Kael and his allies reached the core—a sanctum made of solidified starlight. At its center floated a sealed vault wrapped in chains of divine judgment. The moment Kael approached, the library screamed—an alarm against a god reborn.

The chamber trembled.

From the shadows, spectral guardians emerged—sentient echoes of divine scribes. Their bodies made of scripture, their hands wielding pens sharper than swords.

Lira stepped forward, voice ringing. “We seek truth, not domination.”

But the scribes struck.

Kael stood firm, his hand raised. Ashbringer blazed to life, its fire not of this world.

The battle unfolded in a dance of radiance and ruin—Kael moving like a storm of order, Lira guiding him with light and memory, and Seris striking from the edge of void and vengeance. Each echo fell, but not before revealing fragments of the truth: The Shard was beneath the world, in the Temple Between Lives—only accessible to those bound by love and legacy.

As the dust settled, Kael turned to Lira. Her gaze met his—full of defiance and devotion.

“You once saved me from fate,” she whispered. “Now I’ll stand with you to break it.”

Kael, heart heavy with memory and hope, took her hand. “Then let us burn the path forward—together.”