The Fallen God's Redemption

Chapter 2: A Weakness of a God

From the throne room to the forgotten passageways of the realm, the trip seemed like entering my own tomb. Every stone, every echo, murmured recollections of a life and strength I would have once used unrestrained. Now every stride seemed heavy, every shadow dragging down me with the mocking power of my own mistakes.

In the silence, my breath sounded hollow-a mortal sound not suiting a god. That was the purpose, though-unfit, unwelcome, deserted. I have turned into exactly what I used to reject.

Still, I could sense the faint draw of something older than my godhood someplace in the bottom of my chest-above the bitterness and sadness. The promise Lyra still had left behind. One could not erase either death nor weakness. And it by itself would have propelled me ahead.

A black-clad lady emerged from the shadows as I walked across the dark corridor, her appearance a juxtaposition of enticing grace and terrible horror. Her eyes gleamed with a darkness more than night, and shadows appeared to slink around her as though pulled to her very being. Though I had not sensed it in years, I knew right away.

Nyx is goddess of death and shadows.

"Kaelan," she whispered, her voice floating across the stillness like silk over steel. "I never expected to see you crawling across the ruins of your own making."

I straightened, meeting her with what dignity I could produce. And I never imagined I would see you slumming among humans, Nyx. Should you not be running the underworld?

Her lips rounded into a smile. "I'm here exactly because of the underground. You see, your fall has disturbed more than only your royal dignity. Both gods and mortal are experiencing the effects; I have come to ensure that equilibrium is reinstated.

I laughed, a sharp noise amid the stillness. "Balance?" Since when did gods like us concern balance?

"Since you decided to break it by quitting your post for love," she said sharply, her eyes hardening. "Your choices have repercussions, Kaelan. They always possess. It is now time to pay the cost.

Her comments stung, but I would keep her from seeing that. Nyx, you are wasting your time here trying to evaluate me. I need not another reminder of what I lost. I'm here looking for Lyra and will do anything necessary to get her back.

Her voice softened momentarily, a glimpse of something almost empathetic, but it disappeared just as fast. Then, she added, you will need more than just resolve. "Your weakened, bound by death, any force you face now will see you as prey."

I choked hard, resentment rising within me. "Thus, what then? You came to gloat? Alternatively is there more to your presence here than just passive threats?

She stepped in closer, staring hard. "Kealan, I can assist you. It will not be free, though, nor simple. You have to walk a road of difficulties, suffering, and sacrifice. You have to prove yourself worthy if you want to recover even a fraction of your power.

"Worthy"? I laughed incredulity. Nyx, I was a god of war. I have no need of proving anything.

" Not anymore, you're not," she responded firmly. You will have to fight for your strength if you wish it back. Though you will face the ugliest sides of yourself, the bits you buried even before you fell. I can help you.

I got shivers running down my back. I realized Nyx wasn't lying. Her gaze promised something black and terrible, something that would either ruin me or bring me whole once more.

"What's the cost?" My voice firm but little above a whisper, I asked.

Nyx's eye turned deliberate, almost mechanical. "Your past self." Kaelan, the darkness you carry are not gone. They have waiting. You have to face what you were and what you are ready to become if you wish my support.

I passed over a flutter of doubt. My past self was merciless, savage, a god created in fire and war. Could I really face that part of me once more?

And what if I fall short?

"Then the gods will have what they want," she answered simply. "A weakened, mortal-bound Kaelan, meant to be eaten by the shadows."

I inhaled, the weight of her words soaking into my skeleton. She was proposing no little chore here. But the idea of Lyra, alone and powerless, overcame the anxiety wriggling inside me.

"What have I got to do?" I asked, resignation hanging over me like a cloud.

She grinned, a dark, terrible look that made me shudder. "The first trial finds place in the Hall of Shadows. Here the echoes of earlier actions are enhanced. Every soul you acquired, every life you passed will have faces. And you have to face them all if you are going through it.

Ahead loomed the Hall of Shadows, an old portal throbbing with a black, otherworldly energy. I moved forward, but Nyx halted me with a chilly touch on my arm.

"One more thing," she remarked with an unclear tone. "Once you are in, you cannot turn around. This test is binding. The instant you face it, you either come out reborn or you hardly come out at all.

I nodded, my determination growing stiffer. I had taken many lives and fought many wars. How various could this experiment be?

But I entered the Hall and suddenly I was surrounded in black. Shadows slithered down the walls, creating forms, faces-some recognized, others I would have long buried deep within my memory. And every face showed agony, wrath, treachery.

As they murmured my name, voices blending in a terrible, haunting chorus, my heart hammered.

Kaelan... Kaelan... Kaelan...

The first figure advanced-a warrior I had slain in my early years as a god. His eyes blazed with wrath, his face contorted with hate. Rising his weapon-an ethereal blade glistening in the night-he looked at

"You snarled and took my life without mercy," he said. "Do you have mercies now, fallen god?"

Feeling the weight of his stare, his agony, the life I had killed without second thought, I closed my fists. Every life, every soul, and the dreadful cost of the authority I had possessed felt to me like weight. This was not a test of aptitude or will. It was a trial of guilt, confronting the atrocities I had produced.

Their screams got louder, accusing, denouncing as more people stood forward. Their wrath felt to me like a thousand arrows weighing down.

Still, a faint voice emerged from the darkness-a voice I knew right away even as the shadows closed in.

"Kaelan... "

Lyra. Her voice sliced across the darkness, faint, far-off, yet definite. I had a flash of strength, a reminder of the reason I was here-what I was fighting for.

Her voice soon dropped, though, and a frigid, nasty laugh took front stage.

The shadows moved, and there stood Aramis, his triumphant eyes shining. "Did you really think it would be so easy?" he said. "Did you believe love could be sufficient to pull you out of the darkest of your own sins?"

Feeling the weight of the shadows and of every soul I had ever offended, I stepped back. The challenge was still under way, and immediately I felt my strength fading.

But when I locked eyes with Aramis, a fresh will blazed within me. I would bear this, without regard to cost. I would greet every soul, every shadow. Lyra was waiting somewhere outside this gloom.

I would also not fail her.