Chapter 3: The Blood of Betrayal
The sky above was a muted canvas of grey and gold as Elira and Mari made their way through the woods, each step heavy with the weight of unspoken words. Elira's mind was sharp with focus, the divine energy within her stirring, still weak but growing stronger with every breath. The forest was eerily silent, save for the occasional rustle of leaves beneath their feet.
The path ahead was twisted and treacherous, the ground uneven and full of jagged stones. Mari struggled to keep up, her legs unsteady, and her breathing labored. Elira had insisted they travel swiftly, even though every step left her feeling the strain of her weakened state.
"We should rest," Mari said, her voice thick with fatigue. "You—you're not fully recovered."
Elira shook her head, her silver eyes glinting with determination. "No rest. Not until we reach the ruins."
"Ruins? Why the ruins?" Mari's voice was tinged with confusion. "You know what's waiting for us there."
Elira's gaze softened for a fleeting moment, but her resolve remained unwavering. "There is something I must do. A piece of the past I need to confront."
Mari fell silent, unwilling to argue further. She had seen the fire in Elira's eyes, the unyielding strength that radiated from her, and she knew better than to try and sway her.
The ruins lay just beyond the ridge, half-hidden by the overgrown forest. Elira had once walked these grounds as a child, unaware of the dark secrets buried beneath the ancient stone. She had been the daughter of House Dawnmont, noble and untouchable. But that was before the prince's betrayal—before everything had burned to ash.
They arrived at the edge of the ruins, the crumbling remnants of a once-proud temple now barely standing against the forces of time. Elira stood at the threshold, her breath catching in her chest.
"This is where it all began," she whispered, her voice distant. "The place where my fate was sealed."
Mari stepped beside her, her gaze somber. "But it doesn't look like anything is here. No one has come this way in years."
Elira turned to face her, her expression unreadable. "That's because they don't want anyone to find it. Not even the gods."
The divine shard in her hand pulsed once more, its light flickering like a dying star. Elira's heart raced as she stepped forward, her footfall steady but filled with purpose. She reached out, her fingers brushing against the cold stone of the temple's altar.
> System Alert:
Karmic Energy Surge Detected
Memory Fragment Location: Unstable
Warning: Divine Entities Approaching
Time Until Contact: 00:14:32
Elira's breath hitched, and she withdrew her hand as a sharp pain lanced through her mind. The shard's light flared brightly before dimming again. She staggered back, her knees buckling slightly. The memories were coming faster now, images flashing through her mind.
A battle. A war of gods and mortals. Blood everywhere. Betrayal. A figure cloaked in shadows—its eyes glowing with malice.
"Elira?" Mari's voice was tinged with fear. "What's happening?"
Elira blinked, shaking her head to clear the swirling visions. "It's... nothing. I'm fine."
But deep inside, she knew it wasn't nothing. The memories were fragmenting, and with each one, she was losing more control over her own mind. The gods were testing her, forcing her to remember the terrible truth of her past. She had been betrayed, yes. But she had also been complicit in a much darker act—one that even now threatened to consume her.
Mari stepped closer, her brow furrowed with concern. "We need to get out of here, Elira. This place is dangerous."
Elira shook her head, her silver eyes flashing with determination. "No. This is where I must stand. I will face what awaits me here, no matter the cost."
Before Mari could protest, the ground beneath their feet trembled, sending a ripple through the air. A low, guttural sound echoed from the depths of the ruins, as if something ancient and powerful was awakening.
> Hostile Entity Detected:
+1 Sealed Apostate
+3 Blessed Wardens
Threat Level: High
Suggested Action: Evade or Eliminate
Elira's pulse quickened. She could feel the presence of the divine entities closing in. But she wasn't about to run again. Not this time.
"Stay behind me," Elira ordered, her voice cold and commanding. She stepped forward, drawing the blade at her side. It felt heavier now, as if the weapon itself recognized her divine nature.
Mari nodded, her face pale but resolute. "I'll stay close. Just—be careful."
The temple shifted before their eyes, the walls groaning as if in agony. The air crackled with dark energy. Then, from the shadows emerged a figure—tall, cloaked in tattered robes, its face obscured by a mask of pure gold.
"Elira Dawnmont," the figure intoned, its voice echoing like a thousand whispers. "It is time to face your past."
Elira narrowed her eyes. "I have no past to face. Only enemies to defeat."
The masked figure stepped closer, its form rippling like smoke. "You are mistaken. Your past is not behind you—it is what has shaped you. And it will be what destroys you."
Elira's grip on her blade tightened. "Then let it try."
With a sharp movement, she lunged forward, her dagger cutting through the air. The figure moved with unnatural speed, its hand snapping out to catch her wrist.
> System Alert:
Skill Activation: Truthsight
Duration: 3 seconds
In that brief moment, Elira saw through the mask, saw the figure's true form. It was not a mortal being, nor a mere shadow. It was a god—one of her own kin.
Her heart pounded in her chest. "You. You are one of the gods who abandoned me."
The figure tilted its head, as though amused. "Abandoned? No, Elira. We merely watched. You failed your trial once, and you will fail again."
Elira's lips curled into a cold smile. "We'll see."
With a burst of divine energy, she broke free from the figure's grip. The force of the release sent the figure stumbling backward, its mask cracking slightly under the pressure. The wound was a sign—her power was returning. But it wasn't enough. Not yet.
"Run, Mari!" Elira shouted, knowing the enemy would target her first. She had to buy them time.
Mari hesitated, but Elira's stern gaze left no room for argument. "Go!"
Mari turned and fled, her footsteps echoing in the distance. Elira stood her ground, her mind racing. The time for hesitation was over. She was a goddess, and the gods would learn that she would never kneel again.