Orion, immersed in thought, murmured to himself:
"Hmm... Should she really receive this?"
Beside him, Lyra—usually lazy and provocative—showed a rare interest. She knew Orion better than anyone. She knew that behind every relaxed smile and carefree gesture, there was always a hidden intention. He treated the Empire as if it were a board game, but every move, no matter how chaotic it seemed, concealed precise logic.
Many of the Empire's greatest geniuses had been torn from the natural flow of the Multiverse's River of Destiny by Orion's hand.
Not even Lyra, the personification of the Void, could see the end of the threads he wove. And that only reinforced her long-held suspicion: Orion had mastered the very Dao of Destiny.
She watched his calculating gaze until she noticed a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. And that was enough for her to understand: something grand was about to happen.
Then Orion, in a firm voice laden with intent, declared:
"Pyralis, Goddess of Cosmic Fire, I, Orion, Primordial God of Creativity, Reality, and Desires, by my authority create this and grant you what you have always desired but could never achieve."
Moments later…
Pyralis fell silent. Even with her impetuous, self-confident nature, something in that proposal made her hesitate. The aura of that place was oppressive and yet seductive. It was as if the space whispered to her flames, pulling her with promises and warnings.
She advanced through the palace corridors, the walls covered in indecipherable inscriptions. The glyphs pulsed with energy so ancient that she doubted any living being could still comprehend them.
Finally, after observing the two gods who waited for her for many long minutes, she made her decision. She walked toward Orion—and that was all they needed as an answer.
He simply smiled and turned, guiding her through the corridors as if nothing else of note were about to occur. Lyra followed them in silence, wearing that half-closed gaze of someone who already knew how the story would end, but feigned surprise for amusement.
Before a black door with crimson carvings, Orion stopped.
The wood seemed alive, and the symbols adorning it flickered like burning embers.
"What you seek lies beyond this door. The only question is whether you are willing to enter."
Pyralis stared at him for a brief second. Then she crossed the threshold without saying a word.
Inside the circular chamber, a colossal altar awaited. Made of a dark, glossy material impossible to identify, its surface absorbed Pyralis's flames as if it devoured them.
At its summit rested a sphere bathed in violet glow. Runes slowly orbited it, like planets circling a hidden sun.
Pyralis shivered.
An impulse called her to touch it.
But even she hesitated.
It was a power beyond anything she knew.
"What kind of force is this…?" she whispered.
With caution, she raised her hand and brushed her fingers against the sphere.
The universe exploded around her.
A torrent of energy burst forth from the altar, engulfing everything in cosmic fire. Pyralis lost all sense of time. She lost her body. She lost everything—except the flame.
And then, she awakened.
She was now in another plane.
An ocean of sentient fire stretched to infinity.
It was no ordinary fire.
It was the very Fire of the Cosmos—conscious, ancestral, alive.
In the center, an immense figure awaited.
Feminine.
Majestic.
Familiar.
It was like looking at an archetypal version of herself.
"Pyralis," said the entity in a voice so deep it sounded like thunder in a dead galaxy. "You have found your way to me."
"Who are you? How do you know my name?"
"I am the Primordial Flame. I am the fire that created the stars, that burns time and shapes the gods. I am that which you always were, but did not yet comprehend."
Pyralis took a step back.
The entity gazed at her with compassion and power.
She understood—everything she had been until then was only a spark.
A fragment of something much greater.
She knelt.
"I always believed I was the pinnacle of fire... but I was only an ember."
The entity touched her forehead with a finger made of incandescent light.
And the universe collapsed into knowledge.
Pyralis slowly returned to herself, feeling her body light yet brimming with power. She stood again before the altar—but something had changed.
Her eyes burned with a new light.
The flames within her were... different.
Deeper.
More conscious.
Now, she was not merely the Goddess of Cosmic Fire—she was the heir of the Primordial Flame.
As she passed once more through the immense door and left the chamber, she found Orion and Lyra waiting for her.
He leaned against a column of cosmic jade, arms crossed and an enigmatic smile on his face.
Lyra, with her chin resting on her hand, watched her with that lazy yet sharp gaze of a hidden blade.
"I see you found what you sought," Orion said without ceremony.
Pyralis remained steadfast.
She felt that she now understood, at least in part, what had happened there. And, above all, the kind of entity she now stood before.
"What you gave me… is more than I imagined. This power belongs to no one," she said.
"It's true," Orion replied. "The Primordial Flame chooses on its own. I merely created the path. You were the one who accepted it."
Lyra stepped forward, her voice low and purposeful:
"This power is both a blessing and a burden. The flames you now carry belong to the cycle of creation itself. They are not yours—you are part of them. Are you willing to uphold that balance?"
Pyralis looked at her own hands. Tiny filaments of golden fire danced between her fingers, obeying her will with an almost organic docility.
There was no fear in her gaze.
There was conviction.
"I understand. I am no longer just a warrior. I bear a mission... and I will be worthy of it."
Orion nodded, satisfied. But the expression in his eyes made it clear: this was only the beginning.
In the nights that followed, Pyralis began to feel the call of the Primordial Fire pulsing throughout the multiverse.
Stars greeted her.
Forgotten realms revered her in dreams.
A new cycle had begun.
High upon a mountain in the plane of Elysium, Pyralis knelt before an ancient tree of crystallized fire—a symbol of origin.
Across the cosmos, thousands of minor fire deities felt her presence.
A new sovereign had arisen.
In Orion's palace, Lyra watched the floating screen with genuine interest for the first time in ages.
"She's growing fast," she commented. "But how far do you intend to take her?"
Orion smiled without taking his eyes off the starry horizon.
"As far as she wants to go. My role was to ignite the torch. Now... it's up to her."
Lyra rested her chin on her hand, thoughtful.
"And if she goes too far?"
Orion closed his eyes for a moment.
"Then... I will have to extinguish her. But I prefer a free fire to a chained ember."
In the heart of the multiverse, the Primordial Flame shone intensely. And with it, the name Pyralis began to spread—not as a common goddess, but as a new pillar.
A symbol of rebirth, power, and balance.
And amidst infinity... the first star shone once more.