Chapter Text
Taph remained kneeling long after Telamon disappeared beyond the sanctuary’s inner halls.
For a long time, they did not move at all.
The polished marble beneath their knees had grown cold, yet their body barely seemed to notice anymore. Their hands rested limply against their lap, fingers still trembling faintly beneath the oversized sleeves of their robes. Around them, the sanctuary slowly began breathing again, like some enormous creature cautiously recovering after holding its breath too long.
At first, nobody spoke.
The priests who had frozen during Telamon’s presence now resumed their quiet duties with careful, measured movements. Sandaled footsteps whispered softly across marble floors. Incense smoke drifted lazily beneath golden ceiling arches. Somewhere deeper inside the temple, distant hymns resumed once more, though quieter now, almost uncertain. Even the sacred music sounded strained, as though the sanctuary itself had overheard something it should not have.
Temples like this were built upon discipline, reverence, composure. But Taph noticed the subtle hesitations. The way conversations stopped whenever Telamon’s name was spoken. The way older attendants avoided looking toward the inner sanctum halls entirely.
They knew something was wrong.
Or perhaps worse:
they suspected.
Eventually, Taph forced themself upright.
The motion felt difficult, their legs weak beneath them as though all strength had quietly leaked from their body while they knelt there. A dizzy wave passed through their chest immediately afterward, sharp and hollow all at once, forcing them to steady themself briefly against one of the nearby stone pillars.
A younger attendant noticed.
The priest hesitated before approaching carefully, clutching folded ceremonial cloths tightly against his chest like a shield.
“Taph?” he asked softly.
The sound startled them badly enough to make them flinch — Their shoulders jerked violently, breath catching hard in their throat as though the voice had physically struck them.
The attendant immediately looked horrified by his own mistake.
“I… apologies,” he murmured quickly, lowering his gaze. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
Taph looked away immediately, ashamed of the reaction.
The priest shifted nervously before continuing in a quieter voice.
“Builderman requested to see you before evening.”
Builderman?!
The name alone twisted painfully inside Taph’s chest.
Not fear.
That was what made it worse.
Telamon’s name brought dread. Pressure. Suffocating inevitability.
Builderman’s name hurt… differently.
Because part of Taph still wanted to run to him. They swallowed carefully before giving a faint nod.
The attendant offered a small, relieved bow before leading them through the sanctuary halls.
Normally, these corridors felt comforting to Taph.
Safe.
But now…
…Now they felt wrong.
The marble passageways seemed narrower than before, their towering walls almost oppressive beneath the dim lanternlight. Gold-lined murals depicting ancient gods watched silently from above while candle flames flickered weakly against polished stone. The soft echo of distant prayers carried through the halls like whispers underwater, distorted and heavy.
Every sound made Taph tense.
Every turning corridor felt too enclosed.
Even the scent of incense suddenly smelled suffocating.
And beneath it all, buried deep inside their chest like a splinter beneath skin, Telamon’s voice still lingered.
Tell Telamon the truth.
The words would not leave them alone.
By the time they reached Builderman’s private garden chambers, Taph’s pulse had become painfully uneven.
The great doors stood partially open.
Warm light spilled gently through the entrance, golden against the cold sanctuary stone outside. Inside, water flowed softly through narrow marble channels weaving between flowers, ivy-covered pillars, and climbing vines heavy with pale blossoms. The air smelled of rainwater and jasmine instead of incense.
Peaceful.
Builderman always made places feel peaceful.
He stood beside the central fountain with one hand resting lightly against its edge, his reflection fractured quietly across the moving water below. His robes hung loosely around him today, simpler than usual, and exhaustion lingered visibly beneath his eyes despite the softness in his posture.
When he noticed Taph entering, relief crossed his face immediately.
“There you are.”
The words were gentle enough to make guilt stab sharply through Taph’s chest.
They lowered their gaze at once.
Builderman approached slowly, careful as always. Unlike Telamon, his presence never consumed rooms.
It softened them.
Even now, despite the panic clawing endlessly through Taph’s ribs, some small part of their body instinctively loosened near him. The terrible tightness in their chest eased slightly, like muscles remembering safety before fear crushed it down again; Builderman stopped a short distance away, studying them carefully.
His expression shifted almost immediately.
Concern?
“You look exhausted.”
Taph signed automatically before even thinking.
Sorry.
Builderman sighed softly.
“You apologize too often.” The kindness in his voice nearly hurt more than anger would have.
Taph looked away quickly.
Builderman remained silent for a moment after that, observing them with growing concern. His eyes lingered on the tension in their shoulders, the trembling in their hands, the way they seemed ready to recoil from every movement around them.
“What happened out there?”
The question settled gently between them.
Not sharp.
Not accusing.
…Just worried?…
And somehow, that made it harder. Taph’s fingers twitched faintly beneath their sleeves.
For one terrible moment, they almost sign him everything.
The hidden temples.
The Poisoned.
The fear constantly gnawing through their mind.
The unbearable panic tightening around their throat every waking second.
Builderman waited patiently, giving them room to speak at their own pace.
…
Tell Telamon the truth.
The memory slammed violently through their mind.
Their stomach twisted so sharply it nearly hurt.
Builderman noticed immediately.
“Taph?”
They stepped backward instinctively.
His expression shifted faintly.
“You’re frightened.”
Taph shook their head far too quickly.
Builderman’s concern deepened now, something troubled surfacing behind his composure.
“Did Telamon say something to you?”
Silence.
Builderman exhaled quietly through his nose before glancing briefly toward the distant sanctuary beyond the garden walls.
“…I warned them not to corner you immediately.”
Taph blinked in surprise.
Builderman’s shoulders seemed heavier suddenly, exhaustion slipping more visibly through the calm mask he normally wore so effortlessly.
“The recent incidents within the temples have unsettled everyone,” he said carefully. “And Telamon’s patience has become… strained.” The way he chose the word strained felt deliberate. Careful; As though even here, inside his own chambers, he feared saying too much aloud.
Taph’s pulse quickened violently again.
Builderman noticed — And slowly, painfully slowly, understanding began forming across his face.
Not full understanding.
But that’s was enough.
Enough to frighten him too.
“…Taph.”
The softness in his voice nearly shattered them.
“You know something.”
Taph froze completely.
Builderman stepped closer again, lowering his voice further, as though afraid the garden walls themselves might overhear. “If there’s danger surrounding you…” he said gently, “you need to tell me.”
The fountain water suddenly sounded deafening.
Taph wanted to speak.
Gods, they wanted to. They wanted to tell him everything before the fear swallowed them whole.
But then another memory surfaced.
The Poisoned standing beneath silver moonlight.
Live with me instead.
And afterward:
He’ll kill you.
Taph’s breathing became uneven almost immediately.
Builderman noticed the panic returning and carefully reached one hand toward them without thinking. The movement alone made Taph recoil hard enough for his expression to visibly falter; Not anger of frustration.
Something quieter, wounded. The silence afterward felt devastating.
Builderman slowly lowered his hand again.
For the briefest moment, hurt flickered openly across his face before composure buried it once more beneath calm restraint.
“…I see.”
Regret hit Taph instantly.
Horribly.
Their hands moved quickly.
I didn’t mean—
Builderman shook his head softly before they could finish.
“No,” he said quietly. “You don’t need to explain yourself right now.”
But something had changed.
Only slightly,a tiny fracture.
A fragile new distance resting carefully between them now, thin as glass and somehow sharper than any blade.
Builderman stepped aside near the fountain afterward, giving Taph space once more.
“You should rest before evening.”
Evening.
The word alone made fear surge violently back through Taph’s chest; The inner chambers…
Telamon waiting.
The sanctuary suddenly felt colder again.
Builderman noticed immediately.
And this time…
for the first time since Taph had entered the garden…
he looked afraid too.
Night arrived far too quickly.
By the time Taph reached the inner sanctuary halls, the temple had already fallen into that strange, sacred quiet that only came after evening prayers. Most priests had long since retreated behind closed chamber doors, leaving the corridors nearly empty save for the occasional attendant crossing silently through the shadows with lowered heads and dim lanternlight trembling against the marble walls.
The sanctuary felt hollow at night.
Not peaceful.
Empty.
The towering pillars seemed taller in darkness, disappearing into vaulted ceilings swallowed by shadow. Thin trails of incense still drifted through the halls, but the scent had grown colder now, mixed with old stone and extinguished candles. Even the hymns echoing from distant prayer chambers sounded far away, muffled beneath layers of marble and silence.
Taph walked slowly through it al— Every step felt wrong.
Their heartbeat had become painfully loud inside their chest, uneven enough that they could almost hear it echoing beneath their ribs. Their hands remained hidden deep within the sleeves of their cloak, fingers curled tightly into trembling fists as they moved through the dim corridors toward the inner chambers.
Every instinct screamed at them to turn around.
Run.
Leave the sanctuary behind.
Find The Poisoned somewhere beyond the mountains before Telamon could reach them first.
The urge nearly overwhelmed them at times.
Taph could already imagine it:
moonlit forests.
cold air.
freedom.
The Poisoned’s voice saying:
Live with me instead.
But another part of them still clung desperately to hope.
Maybe this truly was only a conversation! Maybe Telamon suspected less than they feared!MaybeBuildermancouldstillcalmthingssomehowbeforetheyspiraledbeyondrepair-
The thoughts sounded weaker with every passing step.
At the end of the corridor stood a pair of enormous gilded doors. The sight alone made Taph slow instinctively.
Two attendants waited beside the entrance in complete silence, faces carefully blank beneath the flickering lanternlight. Neither looked directly at Taph for long. One simply stepped forward the moment they approached and pushed the massive doors open without a word.
Warm candlelight spilled outward immediately.
The inner chambers beyond were enormous.
Far larger than most sections of the sanctuary. And strangely dark.
Heavy curtains covered the towering windows completely, drowning the room in deep shadows broken only by dozens upon dozens of candles scattered across polished black stone floors. Their flames flickered softly against marble pillars veined with gold while shallow streams of glowing water wound silently throughout the chamber like veins of liquid starlight.
The room smelled faintly of incense.
And parchment, something older beneath both.
At the far end of it all sat Telamon.
The god rested upon an elevated marble platform surrounded by shallow luminous pools that reflected candlelight across the chamber ceiling like fractured constellations. Six enormous wings shifted slowly behind their silhouette, feathers glimmering gold and ivory whenever the light touched them. Jewelry draped elegantly across pale robes and bare hands alike, each movement soft enough to resemble flowing water.
Enough to make lesser beings kneel willingly.
Enough to almost forget what they truly were.
Almost.
“Taph enters at last.”
Telamon’s voice drifted smoothly through the chamber.
The great doors shut behind Taph with a heavy sound that echoed throughout the room like the sealing of a tomb.
Their stomach dropped immediately.
“Come closer.”
Taph obeyed at once.
The polished black floor reflected faint fragments of candlelight beneath their feet as they approached the marble platform. The chamber felt impossibly large around them now, every step echoing softly into the silence while Telamon watched from above without blinking.
By the time Taph finally stopped before the platform, their hands were shaking badly enough to hurt.
Telamon noticed instantly.
Golden eyes drifted briefly toward the trembling hidden beneath the sleeves of Taph’s cloak.
“Still frightened.”
Taph lowered their gaze immediately.
Silence followed.
Long silence.
Telamon said nothing for a while, merely resting one elegant hand against the edge of the throne while tracing slow circles across the marble surface with one finger. Candle flames crackled quietly throughout the chamber. Water flowed softly somewhere beneath the platform.
The stillness itself became oppressive.
Then finally:
“Builderman remains far too gentle with this creature.”
Taph stiffened faintly.
Telamon tilted their head slightly as though studying a disappointing piece of art.
“He comforts weakness instead of correcting it.”
The god’s voice remained smooth, yet irritation lingered quietly beneath each word now like silk wrapped around a blade.
“Taph grows more unstable each year,” they continued. “Disobedient. Secretive.”
Taph shook their head quickly.
Too quickly.
“No?”
A faint smile touched Telamon’s lips.
“Then perhaps Telamon imagined the destroyed sanctuaries.”
The temperature in the room seemed to drop instantly.
Taph’s pulse hammered painfully in their ears.
Telamon rose slowly from the throne.
The movement alone changed the atmosphere of the chamber.
The candles suddenly felt dimmer.
The room smaller.
Pressure settled invisibly against Taph’s chest as the god descended the marble steps with unhurried grace, pale robes spilling behind them while their wings unfolded slightly wider across the darkness.
“You know,” Telamon murmured softly, “these temples once belonged to Telamon personally.”
Closer.
“Long before Builderman built these sanctuaries.”
Closer still.
“Every stone carried devotion.”
The glowing water rippled faintly beside their feet.
“Every prayer strengthened order.”
Taph could barely breathe now.
“And something has been erasing them.”
Telamon stopped directly before them.
Close enough for Taph to see gold reflected within their pupils like burning stars.
“Look at Telamon.”
The command slipped into Taph’s mind like a hook.
They obeyed instinctively.
Golden eyes met theirs beneath the shadow of the hood. “Tell Telamon,” the god said softly, “why witnesses describe magenta stars inside the flames.”
The question shattered whatever fragile hope Taph still carried.
Silence swallowed the room.
Their hands twitched helplessly at their sides.
Telamon waited patiently.
That patience felt unbearable.
If the god had shouted, perhaps Taph could have survived it easier. Anger was simple. Rage was predictable. This calmness felt monstrous!!
Finally, with shaking movements, Taph reached for the wax tablet hanging from their belt. Telamon allowed it this time.
The stylus trembled violently between their fingers as they wrote.
I never wanted to betray you.
Telamon read the sentence carefully.
“Taph admits guilt immediately.”
The god sounded almost amused now.
“How honest…”
Panic surged violently through Taph’s chest.
They hurried to write again, letters scratching unevenly into the wax.
The temples were abandoned.
No one used them anymore.
Telamon’s expression darkened slightly.
“And that grants permission to destroy them?”
Taph froze.
The stylus slipped faintly against the tablet beneath trembling fingers; Telamon stepped closer once more.
“Taph was given life by Telamon.”
Their voice lowered. Far more dangerous.
“Shelter. Purpose. A name!”
Golden eyes narrowed slightly.
“And this is how the creature repays divine mercy!?” The shame hit harder than fear. Because some part of Taph still believed it.
They lowered their head immediately and wrote only one word.
Sorry.
The word looked painfully small scratched into the wax. Telamon stared at it in silence for several long seconds. Then suddenly—
One hand seized Taph’s jaw hard enough to force their head upward.
The movement happened so quickly Taph barely processed it before pain shot sharply through their face.
Telamon held them there effortlessly; And the god’s expression had changed completely.
The calm beauty remained.
But beneath it now lurked something ancient and cold enough to freeze the air itself.
“You smell of another god.”
The chamber went still.
Not quiet…
Still.
Even the water seemed motionless.
Telamon’s grip tightened slightly against Taph’s jaw.
“Taph has been speaking with someone.” Their voice dropped almost to a whisper— “Someone foolish enough to wander through Telamon’s territory.”
Fear exploded violently through Taph’s chest.
The Poisoned.
The realization flashed across their face before they could stop it.
Telamon saw it instantly— And smiled— lingered far too long.
It remained there even after silence swallowed the chamber again, calm and patient and impossibly composed while Taph stood frozen beneath the god’s grasp. The cracked wax tablet trembled violently against their chest now, their fingers gripping it so tightly the edges bit painfully into their skin.
Dread spread slowly through them.
Not sudden panic.
Something colder.
But...Heavier?
Like icy water steadily filling their lungs.
The words drifted through the candlelit chamber with almost curious amusement, as though they were observing some disappointing flaw in a beloved creation rather than condemning a living being.
Taph hurriedly lowered their gaze and began writing again, the stylus scratching frantically across fractured wax.
It isn’t like that.
Telamon barely looked at the tablet this time.
“Attachment breeds disobedience.”
Their voice echoed calmly throughout the chamber while they turned away once more, pale robes trailing elegantly across polished black marble. Candlelight shimmered against the golden jewelry hanging from their wrists and throat while the six massive wings behind them shifted slowly through the shadows like living curtains of ivory and gold.
“Disobedience breeds corruption.”
The glowing pools surrounding the marble platform rippled faintly as Telamon ascended the steps again.
“And corruption spreads.”
Each sentence landed heavier than the last.
Taph’s stomach twisted so violently they nearly felt sick.
“No,” Telamon continued, quieter now, almost speaking to themself while gazing into the glowing water surrounding the throne. “Telamon understands perfectly!” The god rested one hand lightly against the arm of the marble seat before finally turning back toward Taph again.
Cold in the way ancient statues were cold.
“Taph was always fragile.”
Fear surged harder through Taph’s chest. They quickly wrote again, hands trembling so badly the letters carved unevenly into the wax.
Please.
The single word looked desperate.
Small.
Pathetic.
Telamon finally looked directly at them.
And for the first time since Taph had ever known them…There was absolutely no warmth left in their eyes.
Not disappointment.Not irritation. Nothing gentle at all. Only judgment.
“Did the creature truly believe betrayal would go unanswered?”
Taph’s breathing became shallow instantly. Their hands shook violently as they tried writing again.
I never meant—
“Enough.”
The word cut through the chamber like a blade striking stone. Taph flinched so hard the stylus nearly slipped from their grasp.
Silence crashed down afterward.
The candles flickered softly against towering walls while Telamon simply stared at them from above, expressionless once more. The pressure inside the room had changed now. The air itself felt sharp enough to choke on.
Then, slowly, Telamon raised one elegant hand.
The massive doors behind Taph opened instantly.
Some temple guards stepped inside.
Taph’s blood turned to ice.
No…
No no no—
The guards moved carefully at first, uncertainly almost. These were sanctuary protectors, not executioners. Some refused to look directly at Taph as they entered the chamber. Others looked visibly tense beneath their ceremonial armor, hands tightening uneasily around silver spears engraved with sacred symbols.
“Taph,” Telamon declared calmly, their voice echoing throughout the chamber with terrifying clarity, “has violated divine law repeatedly.”
Each word struck harder than the last.
“Desecration of sacred sites.”
The guards slowly approached.
“Alliance with hostile entities.”
Taph stepped backward instinctively.
“Conspiracy against order itself.”
The chamber suddenly felt impossibly small.
Everything pressed inward around them until breathing itself became difficult.
The guards kept approaching slowly, cautiously, like men nearing a wounded animal they feared might suddenly lash out.
“The creature’s existence,” Telamon continued, “has become unstable.”
Fear became full panic then.
Overwhelming.
Taph could hear their own pulse roaring inside their skull now.
Then Telamon spoke the final sentence.
“Execution shall occur at sunrise.”
Everything stopped.
The world itself seemed to freeze around the words.
Execution.
Taph stared upward blankly at the god upon the marble platform, unable to fully understand what they had just heard. The word echoed endlessly through their mind, detached from reality somehow, too enormous to process.
Execution.
Sunrise.
Death.
One of the guards stepped closer carefully, lowering his weapon slightly.M“Taph…” he said quietly, almost apologetically.
Taph stumbled backward immediately.
Another guard shifted to block the chamber exit.
Panic detonated completely inside their chest
No no no no—
The walls suddenly felt like they were collapsing inward around them. Their lungs refused to pull enough air. Their hands had gone numb. The candlelight looked too bright now, blurring painfully across their vision while the chamber itself warped beneath terror.
Sunrise.
They were going to die at sunrise.
Telamon watched it all with horrifying calm.
“Do not make this uglier than necessary,” the god said softly.
Taph couldn’t breathe. Then suddenly another voice shattered through the chamber.
“Wait!!”
Builderman?
Every head turned immediately.
Builderman stood near the entrance now, one hand still braced against the partially opened doors as though he had forced them apart himself. His breathing sounded uneven, rushed, and for perhaps the first time in Taph’s life, he looked genuinely horrified.
“Telamon…” he said sharply, stepping into the chamber, “this is unnecessary!”
Telamon barely reacted.
“The creature committed treason.”
“They’re frightened!!” Builderman snapped back immediately. “Not malicious.”
“Taph aided an enemy!”
Builderman moved forward again without hesitation, candlelight flashing across his expression.
“And you’re sentencing them to death over abandoned ruins?”
“Over betrayal.”
Silence crashed through the room once more.
Taph stood frozen between them, eyes darting helplessly from one god to the other while tension spread through the chamber like approaching lightning. Even the guards looked uncertain now, shifting uneasily where they stood.
Builderman’s expression tightened visibly.
“You raised them…”
“And Telamon can unmake them.”
The words struck the chamber like ice water.
Even Builderman looked stunned for half a second.
Tiny; But enough.
And something inside Taph finally broke completely after hearing it. Because suddenly they understood something horrible:
Telamon truly meant it.
Telamon turned toward the guards again.
“Take the creature below the sanctuaries until sunrise.”
Taph backed away immediately.
Another guard moved closer from the side.
Fear drowned thought entirely now. The Poisoned’s voice suddenly echoed violently through their mind.
Run.
The nearest guard reached toward them—
Taph reacted instinctively.
One of the subspace tripmines slipped from beneath their cloak before they consciously realized what they were doing.
The small device struck the marble floor.
And exploded.
Brilliant magenta light erupted through the chamber like a dying star.
The blast shattered marble instantly.
A deafening shockwave tore across the room while glowing fractures raced violently through the black stone floor beneath everyone’s feet. Guards were thrown backward with startled cries as candlelight vanished all at once beneath smoke and flying debris.
The chamber exploded into chaos.
Water from the glowing pools surged violently across broken marble while massive cracks split apart the elevated platform itself. One of the towering pillars fractured with a thunderous sound overhead, raining shattered stone across the sanctuary floor.
Loud.
Endless.
Panicked.
Taph ran.
Not thinking.Not seeing clearly. Only running.
Smoke burned violently in their lungs as they sprinted through collapsing corridors beyond the chamber, half-blinded by tears, dust, and terror while shattered marble crunched beneath their feet. Their body moved entirely on instinct now, survival drowning everything else beneath raw panic.
Behind them, guards shouted frantically through the smoke.
More tripmines slipped accidentally from Taph’s trembling hands as they ran.
Another explosion thundered through the sanctuary halls.
Then another.
Magenta light flashed violently against sacred walls while cracks raced across murals and towering pillars alike. Candles burst apart from the shockwaves. Marble ceilings splintered overhead.
The sanctuary itself sounded like it was dying.
“TAPH!”
Builderman’s voice echoed somewhere behind the destruction.
“TAPH STOP!”
But fear had become larger than reason now.
Larger than trust.
Larger than thought itself.
Taph sprinted through smoke-filled corridors while priests fled screaming from collapsing temple halls around them. Dust filled the air so heavily it resembled fog beneath the flashing magenta light of continuous explosions.
And somewhere deep behind the chaos—
“There,” Telamon’s voice roared through the collapsing halls, echoing across every corridor at once.
“Now the creature finally reveals itself.”
Taph ran until it felt like their lungs were tearing apart inside their chest.
Branches ripped against their cloak as they stumbled blindly through the forests beyond the sanctuaries, boots slipping across wet roots and loose stone while panic drove them forward harder than thought ever could. Their breathing had become ragged now, uneven gasps clawing painfully through their throat as cold night air burned through their lungs.
Behind them, somewhere far beyond the mountains, the sanctuary bells still rang.
The sound echoed faintly through the forest like a warning carried by the wind itself.
And sometimes, beneath the bells, came something worse. Distant explosions.
Muted now by distance, but still powerful enough to make the ground tremble faintly beneath Taph’s feet.
Their hands would not stop shaking.
Execution.
The word repeated endlessly inside their skull like a curse.
Execution at sunrise.
Death at sunrise.
Telamon’s voice still clung to the inside of their mind, cold and smooth and absolute. And Telamon can unmake them.
Taph nearly tripped over tangled roots hidden beneath the dark grass. Their body pitched forward violently before they caught themself against the rough trunk of a massive tree at the last second.
Pain shot through their shoulder.
They barely noticed.
For several seconds they remained there, half-collapsed against the bark while trying desperately to breathe through the panic crushing their ribs. Their entire body trembled uncontrollably now. Sweat mixed with cold mist against their skin while tears blurred their vision badly enough the forest itself seemed warped around them.
The woods had changed.
Taph noticed it slowly.
The deeper they ran, the stranger everything became.
Moonlight barely touched the ground anymore beneath the enormous twisted branches overhead. The trees themselves looked older here, their bark blackened and warped like something half-rotten yet still alive. Pale fog drifted low across the earth in slow curling waves while the familiar warmth surrounding Telamon’s territory had long since vanished behind them.
The air itself felt wrong.
Unnatural.
Like the forest existed between two breaths of reality.
Taph knew this place.
The borderlands.
Very few mortals crossed here willingly.
The territories between gods were dangerous in ways most people could not explain properly. Even silence behaved strangely here. Sounds arrived distorted. Shadows lingered too long. The air carried the constant sensation of being watched by something ancient hiding just beyond sight.
Behind them, distant golden lights flickered weakly through the trees far below the mountain paths.
Taph’s stomach twisted violently.
They forced themself away from the tree again.
One trembling step.
Then another.
Then another.
Until finally the forest opened.
The sight before them stopped Taph completely.
A massive black lake stretched silently beneath the night sky, its waters perfectly still despite the wind moving through the surrounding woods. Pale dead trees rose from the dark surface like skeletal hands clawing upward from beneath the depths while thick fog drifted endlessly across the water in slow ghostlike currents.
No stars reflected there. No moonlight.
Nothing.
The lake swallowed light itself.
Taph stopped breathing for a moment.
Someone stood waiting at the shoreline.
Dark fabric shifted softly around her body beneath the cold wind while faint magenta light glowed beneath the hood shadowing her face. The fog curled around her feet without touching her, as though even the lake itself knew better than to approach too closely.
The Poisoned.
No.
Not anymore.
Taph understood immediately now.
1x1x1x1.
The god of chaos watched them quietly from the edge of the water.
Not surprised or alarmed.
If anything, she looked almost entertained.
Like she had known this moment would happen long before Taph ever reached the borderlands.
Taph’s breathing faltered again. For several long seconds, neither of them moved — The only sound came from distant wind moving through dead branches overhead.
Then slowly, 1x smiled.
Like someone watching a prediction unfold exactly as planned.
“Took you long enough.”
The arrogance in her voice would have irritated Taph under any other circumstance.
Now it nearly made them collapse from relief.
They stumbled forward through the wet grass before stopping uncertainly several feet away from the shoreline. Their legs felt weak enough to give out entirely. Fear still clung violently to every part of their body, sharp and suffocating and impossible to fully escape.
Magenta eyes drifted slowly across the scratches covering their cloak, the trembling hands, the terror still written openly across their face.
“…So…He found out.”
Not a question.
Taph nodded weakly.
1x exhaled softly through her nose; A dry sound.
“Wow. Shocking.” Her mouth curved slightly. “The paranoid control god discovered his favorite little devotee was sneaking around behind his back. Truly unforeseeable.”
Despite everything, guilt stabbed sharply through Taph’s chest again.
They hurriedly reached for the wax tablet hanging from their belt, fingers trembling so violently the stylus nearly slipped into the grass. Cracks still splintered across the wax surface from earlier explosions.
Execution at sunrise.
1x read the sentence.
Just bitter amusement sharpened into something ugly.
“Of course he did.” She shook her head faintly. “Telamon always did adore dramatic punishments. Can’t just exile people like a normal unstable deity. No, it always has to be executions, speeches, divine tragedy…” Her glowing eyes lifted toward Taph again. “He really loves an audience.”
Taph lowered their gaze shakily.
The words hurt because they felt true now.
Behind them, deeper within the forest, distant voices suddenly echoed through the trees.
Searchers.
Closer this time.
Golden lights flickered faintly through the mist.
Taph flinched immediately, shoulders tightening hard enough to ache.
1x noticed.
Enough to make her look less like a predator and more like something exhausted beneath all the arrogance.
“Come here.”
Taph hesitated only briefly before stepping closer.
The wet grass darkened beneath their boots as they approached the shoreline. The lake water remained perfectly still beside them, black enough to resemble an endless hole carved into the earth itself.
The moment Taph reached her, one cold hand closed gently around their wrist.
And instantly—
something shifted.
The fear inside Taph’s chest did not disappear.But it cracked apart somehow.
Shared.
Split between them.
The panic became quieter at the edges, no longer crushing them completely alone.
Taph looked up at her in surprise. 1x turned her gaze toward the distant golden lights moving through the trees behind them. Her expression darkened with visible annoyance.
“They’re persistent,” she muttered. “That’s new. Usually Telamon’s followers only excel at kneeling and crying.”
Then she looked back toward Taph again.
The magenta glow in her eyes reflected faintly across the black lake between them.
“Well,” she murmured, lips curving into another small arrogant smile, “looks like you belong to me now.”
The words should have terrified them!
Should have sounded like another prison.
Another god sinking claws into them.
Instead—
for the first time since fleeing the sanctuary—
Taph no longer felt completely alone in the dark.
Taph followed 1x deeper through the dead forest in exhausted silence, their boots sinking softly into wet black earth while cold mist coiled endlessly around their legs like living smoke. Every step carried them further from the sanctuaries, further from the gods they had once belonged to, further from the version of themself that had existed only hours ago.
Trees twisted unnaturally toward the sky above, their trunks spiraling together like bodies fused in agony. Crimson flowers bloomed directly from dead bark, petals wet and dark like fresh wounds beneath the pale moonlight. Fragments of ancient statues lay scattered throughout the swamp-like forest floor, half-submerged beneath stagnant black water.
Some still had faces.
Others looked deliberately destroyed.
Arms ripped away.
Heads shattered.
Wings broken from stone backs.
Nothing here felt alive correctly.
Even the silence felt damaged.
1x walked slightly ahead the entire time, one gloved hand still loosely wrapped around Taph’s wrist as though she expected them to vanish into the fog if she let go for too long. Her pace remained calm, unhurried despite the distant searchlights still flickering faintly far behind them through the mountains.
Occasionally screams echoed somewhere beyond the mist.
Distorted.
Not human sounding for very long— Neither of them acknowledged the noises.
Eventually the dead forest opened into ruins.
Older than the sanctuaries.
Broken pillars surrounded a massive circular altar carved from black stone veined with glowing magenta fractures pulsing faintly beneath the surface like veins beneath skin. Deep cracks split apart the ground around it while old scorch marks covered nearly every visible surface, layers upon layers of destruction burned permanently into the ruins.
The air felt heavy there. Sacred in the worst possible way. Like standing inside an old wound that had never healed correctly.
Taph stopped walking immediately. 1x finally released their wrist.
For a moment she simply stood there beside the altar while cold wind moved through the ruins, carrying fog between broken pillars and shattered statues. Then slowly she stepped forward and rested one hand against the cracked stone surface.
Magenta light flickered beneath her fingers instantly.
“This place existed long before Telamon built his sanctuaries,” she said quietly.
Her voice echoed strangely through the ruins.
“Before Builderman’s temples. Before most gods decided mortals belonged beneath them.”
Taph watched her carefully.
Something about her felt different here.
The sharp arrogance she carried like armor had softened slightly beneath the ruins’ pale light. Not gone. Never gone completely. But quieter somehow.
Honest.
1x lowered her gaze toward the altar beneath her hand.
“When a mortal devotes themself completely to a god,” she continued softly, “something is always taken.”
Taph’s stomach tightened immediately.
Sacrifice.
The word settled heavily into the silence between them.
1x glanced sideways toward Taph.
“You already know this.”
Slowly, instinctively, Taph touched their throat.
The place where their voice used to exist.
The scar still hidden beneath skin.
1x noticed immediately. Something dark flickered across her expression.
Anger.
“That should never have been taken from you.”
The words came out colder than before.
Silence followed afterward.
The wind moved softly through the ruined pillars around them while fog curled endlessly across the cracked stone floor.
Then 1x stepped closer again.
“If you stay with me,” she said quietly, “Telamon will never stop hunting you!”
Taph lowered their gaze.
“They’ll call you corrupted. Dangerous. Unstable.” A bitter smile touched her mouth faintly. “Eventually they’ll stop pretending you were ever mortal at all.”
The words hurt because Taph already knew she was right.
Their body trembled harder.
Taph looked slowly toward the altar.
Then began signing carefully.
What would I have to sacrifice?
1x’s eyes immediately flickered toward the small wings hidden beneath their cloak.
Taph followed her gaze.
Understanding struck instantly.
Their entire body stiffened.
One trembling hand moved instinctively toward the remaining wing folded against their lower back beneath the fabric.
1x noticed the fear immediately.
“I won’t force you,” she said quietly.
The words surprised Taph enough to look up at her.
1x held their gaze steadily.
“I am not Telamon.”
Something inside Taph’s chest twisted painfully at that.
Because she meant it.
There were no commands in her voice.
No divine pressure clawing into their mind.…No demand for obedience.
Only choice.
Taph lowered their head shakily.
The wings had always been part of them.
Even after losing one years ago, the remaining feathers still carried fragments of identity. Proof they belonged somewhere. Proof they had once been loved. Proof they were still recognizable as something sacred.
But then came the memories.
Telamon’s hands.
The blade.
The pain.
The ownership hidden beneath every act of affection.
Creature.
Unmake them.
Taph’s breathing became uneven again.
1x stepped closer carefully, close enough now that Taph could feel cold air radiating from her skin.
“If you stay…” she murmured softly, “you stay because you choose to.”
The realization nearly shattered them.
Slowly, trembling violently, Taph reached upward and unclasped the fastenings holding their cloak closed. The heavy fabric slipped from their shoulders and pooled against the ruined stone floor beneath them.
The remaining wing unfolded slightly in the cold night air.
Small.
Scar tissue surrounded its base where the other had once existed, pale ruined flesh hidden beneath black feathers. The wing trembled faintly with every uneven breath Taph took.
1x remained silent.
Watching. Waiting.
Taph’s hands shook violently as they touched the feathers.
Tears blurred their vision almost immediately.
Not fear, but grief.
Because this was the last piece of the person they had once been.
Their fingers tightened weakly against the wing.Then stopped. They couldn’t do it.The realization hit them instantly; Their breathing broke apart into panicked gasps while their body locked completely in place.
1x noticed immediately.
Then slowly, carefully, she reached beneath her cloak.
Metal glinted faintly beneath the moonlight.
A blade.
Its edge pulsed softly with magenta light.
Taph stared at it in horror.
1x stepped closer.
“I can help.”
The wind howled softly through the ruins.
Taph’s entire body trembled violently now, tears spilling freely down their face while panic and mourning twisted together inside their chest hard enough to hurt.
1x stopped directly in front of them.
“If you want this,I won’t let you do it alone!”
Taph looked down at the blade in her hand.
Then slowly nodded.
The movement nearly broke 1x’s composure completely.
She exhaled shakily through her nose before stepping behind them carefully. One hand rested against Taph’s shoulder to steady them while the other raised the glowing blade toward the base of the wing.
“Bite down on something,” she murmured.
Taph barely had time to grab the sleeve of their cloak before the blade pierced flesh.
Pain exploded instantly.
A silent scream tore through Taph’s entire body as the blade cut deep beneath feathers and muscle alike. Blood spilled immediately across black stone in hot crimson streams while the wing jerked violently beneath the blade.
1x held them firmly upright.
“Stay still,” she whispered harshly. “Stay still, stay still—”
The blade carved deeper.
Taph nearly collapsed.
Agony burned through every nerve inside their body while feathers ripped free in bloody clumps against the altar floor. Their scream remained trapped soundlessly inside their throat, body shaking so hard 1x had to physically hold them against her chest to keep them standing.
Blood soaked everything.
Their hands.
1x’s sleeves.
The altar.
The ruined stone beneath their feet.
The final cut severed through bone with a wet crack.
The wing tore free.
Taph collapsed immediately.
1x caught them before they struck the ground, dropping the blood-covered blade as she pulled them tightly against her while crimson poured endlessly from the ruined flesh along their back.
The severed wing rested atop the altar.
Small.
Broken.
Still twitching faintly.
A final piece of Telamon.
Magenta light erupted violently through every crack in the altar while thunder rolled across the dead forest beyond. Fog twisted upward in massive spiraling currents around the ruins as though something enormous had awakened beneath the earth itself.
The altar drank the blood greedily.
1x stared down at Taph in shock.Not at the sacrifice.At them.
At the fact they truly chose her.
Taph shook violently in her arms, face buried against bloodstained fabric while sobs wracked through their soundless throat.
Then slowly, carefully, 1x lifted one crimson-covered hand toward their neck.
Her fingers touched the old scar.MWarmth spread instantly beneath her fingertips.
Something buried deep inside Taph’s chest loosened suddenly.
Snapped open.
Then—
a sound escaped them.
A sharp gasp.
Real.
Audible.
Taph froze completely.
Their voice.
Broken from years of silence.
But real!
Their hands immediately flew toward their throat in shock while tears spilled uncontrollably down their face.
1x stared at them silently.
Completely stunned.
Then, almost awkwardly, she lifted one trembling hand and brushed bloodstained fingers gently against Taph’s cheek.
“There…” she whispered.
Her voice carried no arrogance at all.
Only something unbearably soft beneath the ruins and blood and fog.
“You’re finally yours.”