The mysteries that had once shrouded Pyris' world now lay bare before him—at least, some of them. As he sat alone on the worn couch, he could not help but marvel at the revelations that unraveled in his mind, stunning him into a contemplative silence. Song was absent, out on a mission at his boss's request, leaving Pyris to stew in the shocking truths he'd just uncovered.
The once-revered Virtue Phoenix race, whose legends spoke of celestial glory, now existed as mere echoes of their former brilliance, their grandeur lost to time. They had been a force so powerful that even gods, once united in their efforts, banded together to suppress them.
The name of the Phoenix, which had once evoked awe and reverence, now carried with it the weight of an unspeakable threat—a potential danger that even the gods feared. It was hard to imagine that such beings had once resided in the God Realm, only to be reduced to hiding in the mortal realm, their very existence obscured from all but the most determined seekers.
This grim revelation gnawed at Pyris. The Phoenixes' unmatched power had been branded as dangerous—too dangerous—capable of threatening not only the gods but the very balance between mortals and immortals.
Their power wasn't merely immortality; it was the ability to complete it—to master it beyond even the gods' grasp. Yet, despite all of this, Pyris couldn't deny that there was something even more terrifying than the Phoenixes.
The phantoms.
Even a child could answer that question. The Phoenix race was nothing compared to the sheer terror that the phantoms represented. These creatures could tear through cosmic reality itself with their bare hands, their raw strength so immense it defied comprehension.
While the Phoenixes were terrifying, they were, at best, a flickering ember compared to the inferno that was the phantoms' unrestrained power.
Although bound by ancient seals, the threat of the phantoms loomed large in the minds of the gods. How long could those seals hold? What would happen if the phantoms broke free from the cosmic chains placed on them by the gods of the beginning?
Questions that no one dared to answer—questions that haunted even the divine.
To prevent this unimaginable outcome, the gods had banished them to the Voids of Beyond—a realm so far removed that it existed outside of reality itself. Yet Pyris couldn't shake the irony of it all.
"I think the gods had loose screws in their minds," Pyris mused aloud, his voice dripping with cynicism. "How could they possibly think that banishing beings who can control the void itself to those very voids would work? It's no wonder they ended up in the mortal realm."
He shook his head, sharing his thoughts with Lia, the spirit who had been his constant companion. She too wrestled with the unsettling truths they had uncovered, though her role, as always, was to assist, not to lead.
The conversation continued in the unspoken bond between them, her voice whispering within his mind.
[The Voids of Beyond are unlike any other voids, Pyris. Their very existence defies understanding, beyond anything we could possibly fathom, let alone control. It's said that not even the phantoms, who were born of the void itself, can bend the Voids of Beyond to their will.]
These weren't just myths or bedtime stories to frighten children. The Voids were real. They existed beyond the known reaches of the godly realms, and only the ancient gods dared approach them.
The phantoms, the most dangerous beings in existence, had been cast into this ultimate prison used to by the gods on their criminals. Pyris shivered at the thought.
[The Phoenixes were lucky they didn't meet the same fate,] Lia continued, her tone darkening.
[It was only thanks to the few gods who were willing to rebel against the council that the Phoenix race avoided such a punishment. Had they not intervened, the Phoenixes would have been sealed away just the same, and a second civil war among the gods would've torn the heavens apart.]
Pyris smirked, amused by the thought of gods battling over such a decision. "So, the godly realm was about to descend into chaos over the Phoenixes. I wish I could've seen that." His grin widened, though his amusement was short-lived as Lia's tone became more serious.
[This isn't a game, Pyris. Your mother could be in danger, in more ways than she realizes. Her power in the mortal realm won't protect her from what's coming.]
"No, Lia," Pyris growled, his voice low and defiant. "Mother won't be in danger. Not while I'm here."
The air around him shifted, growing heavy as an ominous aura surrounded him, sending a chill through Lia. Even she, in all her centuries of existence, hadn't expected this surge of power from Pyris. Yet she could not let his conviction go unchallenged.
[You may believe that, Pyris, but you cannot deny the danger your mother faces. She's aligned herself with the phantoms, offering them sanctuary. There's no undoing that now.]
Pyris closed his eyes, his mind racing back to the stories of his mother;
It all began long ago, when Emberly, then a young lady of House Obsidian, embarked on daring adventures to escape the shadow of her family's fallen glory. On one such journey, she discovered a hidden portal deep within the forgotten ruins of her family's past, buried in the far reaches of the Dragon Empire. She wanted to stay away but curiosity had always driven her beyond caution.
The portal was dark and foreboding, a swirling mass of shadows that pulsed with an eerie energy. Without hesitation, she stepped through and found herself in an abyssal realm—where the laws of reality no longer applied. Time and space dissolved into a sea of darkness, and it was there she encountered them.
The phantoms—frightening beings of immense power, their forms almost indistinguishable from the void itself. Despite their fearsome reputation, they did not harm her. Over time, she returned, drawn to their mystery. Through her family's ancient books, she pieced together their story—beings once feared by the gods, now betrayed and cast into the abyss.
Without hesitation, driven by her own rebellious spirit and perhaps a need to restore her family's name, she offered them sanctuary. A safe place to hide from gods and immortals alike. No strings attached. No conditions.
Years later, Pyris still couldn't reconcile the mother he knew with this act of charity.
"Mother? Helping without expecting something in return? Impossible." He smirked, shaking his head. "They must've been tricked by her. No way she did that without gaining something."
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The notion gnawed at him, an idea too foreign to easily accept. His mother, the hardened matriarch who had taught him the brutal truths of the world, offering sanctuary without the expectation of repayment?