Everin groggily awoke in a strange room that he definitely had never seen before, with its elegance and natural beauty of leafy pnts, blooming flowers, and wood paneling along the walls. It was much more expensive, welcoming, and alive than his borrowed room in the Temple of the Rebel.

  At the thought of his goddess and what he had just done, he shot up straight in the bed he had been put in and immediately regretted the action. The dull ache he hadn’t quite registered yet became a roar of protest behind his eyes, the instant headache causing him to fall back onto his bed in apology.

  “Careful, Avatar Starrk. You’ve been unconscious for a couple of hours now,” a young man’s voice said from nearby. He thought he should know who it belonged to, but his mind felt scattered.

  He groaned as the throbbing reduced, and his mind tried to repy everything that had happened. Ignoring his goddess, making an insane deal with another goddess, becoming a puppet to her will with no choice in anything his body did, feeling the ritual at work with those heightened divine senses, and realizing the exact moment things had gone wrong.

  He had felt the sense of disappointment from Schor as she realized that whatever it was she had learned earlier wasn’t fully complete. It was both an enlightening and horrifying revetion to discover the gods didn’t always have the truest answer. While seemingly omnipotent and omnipresent, at least to an extent that no mortal could ever accomplish, they weren’t omniscient, not even Schor, and they sure as fuck didn’t know the future.

  Everin could feel his lips curl into a silent snarl as his anger over the outcome began to eclipse his disappointment of failure. He had thought that if anyone could predict exactly what would happen, it would have been the Schor—the one who learned everything.

  “I can’t learn something that has never happened yet,” the child’s voice said within his mind, and he could sense the tiny new sliver of divine presence nestled in his soul ready to whisper to him… or consume him should it desire.

  A fsh of multi-colored light on the other side of his very heavy eyelids followed by the presence of a divine aura that he very much recognized forced him to open those tired eyes, but he couldn’t bring himself to sit up as he tilted his head to look at Rebel who was sitting in a chair opposite the voice he had heard coming from his right.

  She was as beautiful as ever, and his heart broke a little at the thought of her hating him now.

  “I thought this would be better than a whispered conversation,” she said, and he figured that meant he was definitely in trouble. That was why it was so confusing when she smiled and continued, “You rebelled against me. A bold and beautiful move.”

  “He saved my mentor’s life,” the other visitor in the room growled like an angry kit, and he finally connected the name Dazien to the voice.

  “His life, yes, but not his soul,” the goddess retorted. Her gaze never left Everin as her smile vanished to be repced with the disapproval he had originally expected, “You trapped a man within his own body, never to be free to make his own choices, completely under the absolute authority of another’s will.”

  “I—” his voice broke. How could he expin that he didn’t know what would happen when he absolutely suspected it the moment he first saw that evil contraption lying in the slush? What else would a Soul Cage do? “I thought it would be worth it.”

  “It was,” the young kit interjected, “Paul’s alive, and we can fix this eventually. We can’t fix the dead.”

  “Schor was right. I should make you Fall for turning my Chosen into a tyrant,” the goddess practically spat the st words, her disgust obvious, and he had to agree. That had not been his intention in the slightest, but he had rushed at the glimmer of hope like a foolish mothlet to a smoldering cinderstone.

  Rebel fell silent and the room became eerily still as she seemed to contempte exactly what to do with him. He couldn’t even speak in his defense. Schor had warned him that it may happen, and he thought saving his friend was worth this moment. He couldn’t try to run away from it now.

  When she finally spoke, it was as if time restarted, “I will give you a choice. For your transgression, you can choose to leave my service for good. Not Fallen but never welcome upon my doorstep again. Go frolic with the librarians and researchers in their dusty halls and stuffy studies.”

  The thought of being locked in a room to read forever made him bnch. He loved traveling and exploring, meeting new people, and pying games. There was no way he would survive the life of a cloistered schor withering away in some b or ancient library.

  His thoughts were interrupted by Schor’s whispers again, “Not all of them are like that. I like it when you learn about new people and pces just as much.”

  Well, that was a relief at least. Rebel continued, not paying mind to her sibling’s counterpoint, which he could only assume the other goddess had heard within him.

  “Or you become my Avatar as well.”

  Everin blinked, his mind stuttering to an abrupt halt. Surely he misheard. There was no possible way that the goddess would want—

  “You have proven yourself capable of withstanding the strain. For quite a while, in fact, which is impressive at your Caste. If you’re willing to rebel against me, a deity, then you have proven your dedication to my purpose,” she said, gracing him with an expnation, then gave another small smile that almost seemed mischievous, “Plus, we can’t have my aunt stealing my clergy now, can we? I’ll never hear the end of it.”

  Everin looked back at the ceiling, needing a moment to sort through his racing thoughts, which shouldn’t be this hard at Emerald Caste, but this was too much, and his head still hurt.

  He had agreed to become an Avatar of the Schor out of desperation, not fully considering the risks and the future beyond that moment. After experiencing that feeling of complete surrender that he had to go through… though, it wasn’t a complete surrender. His soul had to constantly fight back the entire time in order to contain the divine power. A battle of wills that would result in his annihition should he falter.

  His body hadn’t been his, but the goddess’ magic hadn’t been completely hers either. It was a dangerous partnership that so few could accomplish without quickly burning out. That was why Avatars of a deity were so rare in the world… and so important in critical times.

  “You don’t have to decide right now,” the goddess said as if in response to his jumbled thoughts, and he let out a sigh of relief, “I know you have undergone a lot, but I want to make your options known. You need only decide before returning to my temple.”

  “So either I bow out completely or get a promotion?” he summarized, “I thought you’d make me leave for what I did to Phoenix. For not letting Paul die.”

  The goddess gave a smile as she shook her head, “My concern before was that my Chosen would not be able to grow quickly enough to help the rebellion you left to come here, remember? Paul Waynd was beginning to hold her back from battles to py it safe. While there is still time, the people of Tyrand cannot wait forever. It is not that I truly desired his death, but it was the quickest way to unchain my Chosen from his overprotectiveness.”

  Her grin twisted into more of a smirk as she added, “It also pleased me to hear Avenger compining about his new favorite Padin rebelling against him after it pyed out like he had warned. Paul Waynd may not be a completely lost cause in his newfound purpose.”

  Everin gave a bark of ughter that caused pain to shoot behind his eyes again. Of course, Rebel would actually like Paul. He knew this wasn’t the first time the Padin had stood against a god, and he doubted it would be the st, even with this temporary setback.

  He idly wondered if he would be there beside the stubborn man to see the next time.

  “You’d have to get stronger,” Schor whispered, “Phoenix will need to get much stronger.”

  He wanted to see that.

  He wanted to be there for it. He wanted to help her fight for the freedom of the nation he had come to care for.

  “I’ll become your Avatar,” he answered, “Not right this moment, though, please? I’m fairly sure if I have to endure another one of those hugs right now, my mind will fracture completely and stumble off the edge into madness from this accursed headache.”

  Uriel sat beside Phoenix’s bed in a plush chair that he had once pondered the pcement of, but now he wondered if it was for when Paul would have been in his pce—sitting and waiting for her to wake up fully alive once more.

  Orebe had come to their rescue, apparently not as affected by the Caged effects as Paul was, but she couldn’t go far from his side. She managed to fly Paul back to his estate where elder Puani Waynd took over, the old woman issuing orders and arranging a pce for their incapacitated lord.

  Saiya and Dazien had managed to carry Everin back to the camp while he and Rayna killed anything that hindered their path. They had been quickly reinforced by Patric and Padma Waynd’s team, making their journey quicker and safer.

  He had been grateful for the non-combat Sapphire portalist the main camp had on hand to get them back to the estate with the Cleric-turned-Avatar. The director had agreed that it would likely be the safest pce for Everin until she could return to the AOA building or he woke up.

  Dazien and Uriel had opted to be the escorts while Rayna and Saiya decided to stay and help with the ongoing battle against the remaining monsters. Even though the greatest threat had been handled, this war was far from finished.

  Daze had chosen to stay with Everin, assuming he would awaken first, while Uriel had decided to wait for Phoenix, but he had not been remotely prepared for what he witnessed upon his arrival.

  He gnced up again at the light that had been slowly getting brighter and shifting the silhouette to be more human-like with each passing hour. In the center of the white light was a sparkling spherical core that looked vaguely like a Crystal Caste Seed, but it was being orbited by five miniature Aspects, which in turn had a miniscule gem orbiting each one. There were also glowing sigils of the deities that had marked the Wayfarer spread out and surrounding all of it. It was both lovely and terrifying, and he found himself mesmerized by the sight of it.

  Phoenix’s soul was beautiful.

  He had taken off his earrings while waiting. It seemed to make her happier when he didn’t wear them, and he didn’t want this feeling of awe to become dulled. What he wasn’t sure he wanted to feel, however, was the dark and selfish thought that, in this state, she seemed like a monster spawning. Like he often thought of himself as.

  Perhaps, she would understand. Perhaps, she wouldn’t completely hate him…

  His cheeks began to heat when her form began to finally solidify on top of her bed, and he realized that her clothes wouldn’t be spawning with her. Even if she didn’t hate him for seeing that, he would hate himself for watching without her consent. He quickly stood to walk to the other side of her room and drop himself on the couch facing the hearth opposite her bed.

  She’d tell him when she was ready to talk, and he would be there to listen.

  Phoenix blinked at the book glowing above her, gd that the pain had stopped, at least.

  You have died.

  All equipment has been returned to your collection.

  [Waypoint] has guided your soul back to your designated location.

  You have been reconstituted to a state of full integrity.

  Twenty-four hours remain until this effect can be triggered again.

  It was the usual welcome message of revival, but this time it was followed with a quest update that, while technically successful, still left the bitter taste of failure in her mouth.

  Quest: Assistant of the Avatar

  Objective complete: Participated in the ritual.

  [Abyss Spirit Gem] has been added to your collection.

  Quest completed.

  10 [Crystal Mana Bits] have been added to your collection.

  Why couldn’t she be one of those overpowered superheroes where everything magically always went perfectly right for them? Why did she always feel like she failed even when she won? Why couldn’t she have at least this one thing go right? Why did she have to fail the person who mattered the most?

  So many more questions kept running around in her mind, but she finally remembered that her friends were probably waiting for her, and she wanted to see Paul—wanted to make sure he really was alive, at least.

  She sat up and gave a squeak of surprise at the presence of Uriel’s back facing away, sitting near the unlit hearth. A shimmer of silver starlight ter and she was fully clothed in a simple, soft, long-sleeved green dress that covered her from neck to ankle.

  Uriel didn’t speak about her undignified yip of fright and simply readjusted in his seat. He was obviously waiting for her to come to him, which she did after reassuring herself that she was completely clothed. She walked across the cold floor with bare feet to stand beside him for a moment. He simply held his arm out in a welcoming gesture, and she accepted the silent invitation by burying her face into his tunic.

  At least he wouldn’t try to give her empty words as she wept in a bout of self-pity at the unfairness of the universe. He wouldn’t try to force her to feel happy about the silver lining they managed to salvage. He wouldn’t tell her to stop crying because it wouldn’t solve anything. He wouldn’t judge her for hating herself.

  She was fairly certain the only thing he might do was keep her from jumping off the nearest ledge to try and end her misery permanently within the next twenty-four hours.

  At least, she thought he would, until he asked, “Do you want to go to the roof with me?”

  Her sobs had trailed off a bit by that point, but she could only look up at those fiery eyes with confusion in her gaze.

  “I think some fresh air and the beautiful flowers up there might be better scenery than a cold empty room, don’t you? We can still cry together up there if you want.”

  Phoenix thought a cold empty room was the perfect pce for her to wallow in her sorrows, but she did like the garden… She nodded, and he surprised her by abruptly standing while taking her hand to lead the way. It strangely reminded her of the time he led her up through the temple of the Warrior to spar her shame away.

  Uriel had been right; the fresh air helped immensely. As they wandered through the garden, getting lost within it, she felt her pain ebb and took soce in the waning sunlight reflecting off the recently watered petals.

  She let her mind wander with their path, contempting everything that had happened not just in the st few hours of her consciousness but over the days of battling what seemed like an unassaible enemy.

  “You were amazing out there, you know?” she finally said as they got closer towards the center of the garden.

  “What are we talking about?” Uriel asked in surprise as he paused to look towards her, having simply been walking beside her as a comforting presence since entering the flowering hedges. He had never let go of her hand, much the same way she had become accustomed to Saiya doing.

  “When we were fighting on the frontlines with everyone. Your AOEs are insanely good for that scenario. I saw people watching you in awe as if you were a battle god,” she said with a soft chuckle at the imagery.

  He didn’t return her smile though, grimacing instead as he said, “I think what you saw as awe was more like fear.”

  “Even if it was, you were still impressive and completely awesome. You saved so many lives by handling so many monsters.”

  “What if…” he paused, making small circles on the back of her hand with his thumb while he looked at the ground as though debating about something. She idly wondered if her hand was currently a stand-in for the earrings he would often rub, and she found herself being completely okay with that swap.

  “What if they had good reason to fear me?” he asked quietly, “What if they knew I—”

  His words were cut off by a bright fsh of Radiant light filling the area and another divine aura pressing in around them. The light diminished another moment ter to leave a deity she didn’t recognize standing in the very center of the small clearing where Paul had first shown her the wonder of watering the garden.

  A tall woman—even taller than Uriel, who she guessed was around six foot four—was glowing softly while dressed in shiny silver armor that clung to her form and moved like rge dragon scales. She had dark topaz skin and almond-shaped eyes that were a deep brown bordering on bck. They matched her hair that fell past her chest in elegant waves. A white cape with a blue sheen to it flowed off her shoulders to just above the ground and seemed to gently sway in a non-existent breeze.

  The divine being was staring at her with amused pity, and she couldn’t help rolling her eyes as she muttered, “Another deity.”

  Phoenix turned to fully face the goddess and crossed her arms in front of her, subconsciously protecting the Soul Mark on her chest from getting further damaged or decorated, and asked with a hint of annoyance, “So, which one are you?”

  The deity gave an indulging smile and answered, “Champion.”