[ Etheome ]
In the vast chamber of Etheome, where golden pillars rose like frozen waves and the ceiling shimmered with constellations unseen by mortal eyes, the true god of Fame, Mirathis, stood alone, save for the voices in his mind.
The divine radiance around him pulsed softly, yet his brow was furrowed, shadows falling across his sharp features as he communed in silence.
A voice spoke within his thoughts. Not just any voice, but that of his chosen: Enren, a Zeten blessed by Mirathis himself.
"Enren, is everything going well for you?
Mirathis's tone was calm, yet beneath it lay tension.
The response came not with sound, but through the sacred bond that allowed blessed to commune through prayer.
Magma is in Sanatria," Enren's voice was steady, precise. "Word has reached me, he wants me at the trial immediately. I was forced to rush my training to catch up, but I've done it. Omen and I will both take this trial... and Dune, Atlas, and Ned will die by our hands."
A slow smile crept across Mirathis's face. "Good," he murmured aloud, "I like how this is going. Magma planned it well."
But then came the words that twisted the god's expression into something dark and dangerous.
"I'm sorry, Mirathis... it wasn't Magma's plan. It came from the prince of Sanatria. His name is Damion Asus Murderthrone."
The chamber trembled. A deep vibration crawled along the walls, and silver dust fell like snow from above. Rage burned behind Mirathis's eyes.
Damion... That cursed child... What is he scheming now?
He looked down at his hand, at the strange mark etched into his skin. He exhaled slowly.
"Alright, Enren... be careful. I wish you and Omen good luck."
"Thank you, Mirathis. I won't disappoint you."
And with that, the connection faded.
A heavy silence followed, but not for long.
Without warning, the two colossal doors at the far end of the chamber groaned open. A presence swept in like a quiet storm.
Clothed in pure white, with wings folded behind him like marble curtains, Bethel, the god of Knowledge and Wisdom, entered. His very being seemed untouched by time, his eyes, lips, even his robe and skin were all white, as if carved from divine thought rather than flesh.
Mirathis straightened. "Bethel? What are you doing here?"
The god of wisdom halted a few steps in, serene as always.
"I came to wish you good luck," he said simply.
Mirathis raised an eyebrow. "Good luck?"
Bethel gave a slow nod. "To your blessed. The ones entering the trial."
The god of fame narrowed his eyes. So he knows.
His voice dropped slightly. "What's your true purpose here, Bethel?"
There was a long pause. Bethel closed his eyes.
"I respect you, Mirathis," he said at last. "But you are still young... and inexperienced. Out of that respect, I offer you a helping hand, In the trials, there will be someone. Not a Blessed, someone else. Someone who will cause your two much more trouble than you expect. Be careful."
He turned to leave.
"Bethel."
The word escaped Mirathis before he could think. The other god stopped and turned his head slightly, waiting.
But Mirathis couldn't speak. His jaw clenched. He glanced at the mark on his hand once more, eyes burning with frustration.
Damn it. So it's true... I'm affected by Damion's ability.
The thought sent a chill through him.
How is this possible? I am a god... I exist worlds above that human. And yet, I can't read him. I can't sense his intentions. I can't even speak of this mark. It's as if it's only visible to me.
He inhaled deeply, pushing the thought down.
"Wish your blessed good luck for me," he muttered.
Bethel gave a solemn nod and vanished, his form dissolving into threads of white light.
Left alone once again, Mirathis lowered his gaze to his hand. The mark pulsed gently, its black glow a silent mockery.
And so, the god of Fame stood still in Etheome, surrounded by eternal light, yet consumed by an invisible shadow.
[ Rendely ]
The chamber was dim, lit only by the golden light streaming through the stained glass above. On the throne of obsidian and crimson, King Aramir Murderthrone sat, one hand resting on the hilt of his sheathed sword, the other supporting his heavy crown.
Before him, kneeling with his head lowered, was Cassius Ceresey, the iron-willed head of the Ceresey family.
Aramir's voice echoed across the hall, calm but weighted with finality.
"It's inevitable, Cassius... Soon, I will die."
Cassius slowly raised his head, his cold silver eyes burning with defiance.
"As long as I breathe, Your Majesty," he said, voice sharp like steel drawn in anger, "you will not die. If fate itself dares to reach for your throne, I will sever its hands."
Aramir didn't flinch. He studied the man before him, his most loyal hound, his silent sword.
Cassius continued, "Whatever happens, I will remain at your side. And whoever dares to go against you... their end will be worse than death." He pressed his fist to the floor. "Say the word, and I'll go now. I'll tear Magma apart before he takes another breath."
Aramir's eyes narrowed, then drifted to the colored glass overhead, scenes of war and sacrifice painted in light.
"No," the King said. "Magma's arrival was unexpected... but we can't act now. Not here."
Cassius clenched his teeth, frustration visible in his posture.
"If we strike," Aramir continued, "he could destroy half of Rendely's population before we lay a finger on him. He is not a foe we face recklessly." A pause, then he looked directly at Cassius. "Even if it results in my death... I'd rather fall than see innocents burn for my sake."
Silence followed.
Cassius slowly stood, his voice lower but still fierce.
"I hope you're right, Your Majesty." He bowed his head once more. "But I won't wait in the shadows. I'll search every family, every corner of Rendely. I'll find the rats crawling between our walls."
He looked up, gaze cold and resolute.
"Give me your order. I'll kill anyone suspicious without hesitation."
King Aramir stood, his towering figure casting a long shadow down the chamber.
"Do it," he said. "Make sure they remember who we are."
Cassius smiled for the first time, a cruel smile, promised only to traitors.
"As you command."
And with that, the hound was unleashed.
[ Important information about the families of Rendely ]
Amelia Family (Rendely)
Head: Richard Amelia
Lady: Helen Amelia
Children: Hazel, Ana, Leonard Amelia
Neba Users under:
Purple Neba: 0
Blue Neba: 1
Red Neba: 5
Orange Neba: 35
Yellow Neba: 50
Green Neba: 350
Rodeny Family (Rendely)
Head: Sarazel Rodeny
Lady: Kassie Rodeny
Children: Raves, Azrael Rodeny
Neba User Breakdown:
Purple Neba: 0
Blue Neba: 1
Red Neba: 14
Orange Neba: 45
Yellow Neba: 245
Green Neba: 650
Neville Family (Rendely)
Head: Alger Neville
Lady: Laura Neville
Children: Lucas, Seraph Neville
Neba Users:
Purple Neba: 0
Blue Neba: 1
Red Neba: 3
Orange Neba: 25
Yellow Neba: 55
Green Neba: 450
Ceresey Family (Rendely)
Head: Cassius Ceresey
Lady: [Not specified]
Children: Silvie, Atlas Ceresey (adopted)
Neba Users:
Purple Neba: 1
Blue Neba: 0
Red Neba: 5
Orange Neba: 80
Yellow Neba: 50
Green Neba: 550
Murderthrone Family (Royal Family of Sanatria)
King: Aramir Murderthrone
Queen: Neathel Murderthrone
Children: James, Damion Asus Murderthrone
They command a personal army loyal only to Murderthrones. Also supported by the Grand Four Families (Amelia, Rodeny, Neville, Ceresey)
Even without the Grand Families, the Murderthrones' forces outnumber them by a vast margin. Sanatria's total population exceeds 500 million
Murderthrone Neba User: (Excluding Non-Warriors):
Purple Neba: 2
Blue Neba: 50
Red Neba: 250
Orange Neba: 3,000
Yellow Neba: 15,000
Green Neba: 50,000+