Ever since the time of the gathering—since the moment the Mother Tree of Desire had mercifully said 'She' would save his parents' life, since the space of darkness and cast him back into his body—Derrick had waited.
He waited with bated breath for several minutes. He tended to his parents with the same diligence, but with a feverish edge now, as though salvation would descend the moment he blinked.
A terrible thought then clawed into his mind: What if she cannot come because of the symbols of the Creator! Perhaps 'She' couldn't enter a house consecrated to another god. 'His' power must be blocking out 'Hers'
He looked to the wooden symbol hanging on the wall—a crude carving of the Creator's sigil, the one he had kissed almost every night until he realized 'He' had abandoned the City Of Silver.
And his eyes filled with guilt.
But also showed defiance.
So he burned them.
The old little devotional book. The topaz pendant. He took them outside in silence and lit them ablaze, watching the fire consume his childhood, his education, his faith. The smoke carried the scent of ink, old leather, and betrayal.
Then came a rumble.
Low at first, like the purring of something ancient beneath the earth. The windowpanes began to tremble. Derrick froze in place, his heart a wild animal in his chest.
He stepped outside.
The wind howled—not in fury, but in exultation. The sky above was stormy, churning with steel-black clouds that offered no rain, only menace. It appeared as if the end of the world had come, but that appearance was something Derrick had saw everyday.
And there, in the blackness between thunderclaps, ravens circled his home in an ever-tightening spiral. Their feathers were ink against the lightning, their eyes glinting faintly with pinkish-purple light.
Then they descended.
Hundreds of them in formation, diving not in chaos but in rhythm, in unity. They landed at the front of his house. Next, the birds began to shift.
Feathers melted into silk. Talons into toes. Wings folded inward, becoming slender arms.
And before Derrick now stood a young woman.
Her beauty was unearthly. Platinum hair fell in soft cascades down her shoulders, parted neatly by a long blue ribbon that shimmered like a dream of the sea. Her eyes were vast and ocean-deep, the slits in them vertical and precise—like a demoness dressed in perfection.
She wore a white cloth dress, simple yet impossibly clean, lined with fine blue stitches and tied at the front with a deep sapphire ribbon. Another azure ribbon adorned her hair, trailing in the wind like the banner of a forgotten kingdom.
Derrick felt the breath catch in his lungs. His face flushed, the blood rushing so quickly to his cheeks that he nearly staggered. His legs felt like reeds in a storm.
He tried to form words, but only silence clung to his tongue.
In all his anticipation for 'Her' miracle, nothing had prepared him for this moment. She stood like a painting made flesh, a goddess carved from reverie and temptation.
'She is beautiful', he thought numbly. ' Probably the most beautiful thing I've seen in my life.'
'But this beauty does not compare to 'Her's'. I suspect that 'she' might be the Goddess of beauty so that's perfectly normal no living creature's appearance could compare to 'Her's'. But this woman is a close second.'
Then, treacherously, another thought rose from his mind like a whisper from the crevices in the void of his heart:
'Even God himself would hesitate to lay a hand on her.'
She smiled gently, just a subtle curl of her lips, like she had knew his thoughts and found them… acceptable.
The surroundings felt like the storm itself had paused, waiting to see who this young woman was.
The strange girl with the platinum hair stepped forward, her bare feet silent on the earth. The storm outside pulsed softly, as if waiting for her voice.
"I am Pandora," she said, her tone melodic yet unreadable. "A believer of 'Her', the One who desires and devours, the One who reigns from beneath the roots. I have come at her bidding, to heal what your world could not."
Her words seemed to ripple through the air like ink dropped in clear water.
Derrick swallowed his awe and quickly stepped aside, gesturing toward the entrance. "Please, come in… before the neighbors see."
He opened the door wider and she stepped inside with an almost weightless grace, her presence making the lamplight tremble and the wooden floor seem to hush beneath her.
They moved to the room where his parents lay, fragile bodies sunken into worn bedding, their breathing shallow, their skin nearly translucent. Death had one foot through the door.
Pandora took a breath of the air around them and let it linger on her tongue like wine.
"So much sickness… " she murmured. Then she turned toward Derrick, her eyes catching the flicker of the candlelight. "Since my Lord wills me to heal them, they shall be saved."
She knelt between the two beds, her hands moving with ceremony—one to each of them, palms pressed gently against clammy foreheads.
The moment her fingers made contact, the room pulsed with something unseen. The candle flames flickered wildly. The very shadows seemed to shift with anticipation.
Their bodies began to tremble.
First, a soft twitching in the fingers. Then, color returned to their cheeks like blood flowing backward through time. Their chests expanded fully with breath—true breath, deep and whole. Muscles that had wasted away for weeks swelled beneath their skin, taut and alive once more.
In a span of seconds, the dying had risen.
Felix and Lilith—once bound to deathbeds—sat upright. Then, with a small gasp, they stood on their own feet, their limbs sure, their pain forgotten. They turned to Derrick, recognition dawning alongside tears.
"My son!" Felix said, rushing to embrace him. "You did it—you never gave up on us."
Lilith followed, wrapping her arms around both. "Our brave, brilliant child… you saved us. My little survivor!"
But their gratitude did not stop with him.
They turned to Pandora—still serene. They then knelt and fell to their knees. Their foreheads touched the floor before her as they trembled with reverence.
"Are you… are you an angel?" Lilith asked, her voice choked. "Are you sent by the Creator? To perform this miracle?"
Pandora only smiled softly.
She gave a quiet laugh—like the sound of glass wind chimes in a deep forest—and tilted her head. " Perhaps." She paused, her expression teasing but distant. "But not from your god."
A thick silence proceeded to follow her words.
Then, she turned back to Derrick, her eyes glowing ever so faintly with an unspoken truth. "We'll be seeing each other again very soon."
Derrick then slightly bowed also, expressing his gratefulness yet again. With a sincere tone, he resolutely spoke: "Thank you."
Pandora then looked at him with a motherly expression of love, and calmly responded. "It is not me who should be receiving thanks, but 'Her'. I am just an instrument who is played as my owner sees fit."
As she spoke, something shifted behind her. In a graceful unfurling motion, three sets of white feathered wings burst from her back, pristine and glistening with faint iridescence. The room flooded with their glow.
Without another word, she crouched slightly, then surged upward in one fluid motion. The wings beat once—twice—and she shot through the house like an arrow of divinity, shattering the upper window as she vanished into the storming lightning sky.
Glass rained down like falling stars.
Derrick, Felix, and Lilith stood together in the silence, lit only by the candlelight and the fading shimmer of wings. Outside, the angelic figure had vanished, leaving behind a sky booming with lightning, yet darker and quieter than before.
At this moment, in lands far, far away from the City Of Silver; certain divine figures had noticed the course of fate had been thrown off its correct trajectory.
And a man sitting inside of a large illusionary castle, who had noticed a brightly shining red star in the space above a gray fog, now saw it dimly lighting up and blinking. Just moments before it fully extinguished and went out.
The man's face was blurred by a gray fog, but one could still tell by his shifting demeanor that his emotions were running wild inside of his mind.
...
High above the shattered earth of the Forsaken Land of the Gods, in the ever-brooding skies that loomed over the City of Silver, Capella—still cloaked in the form of Pandora—soared like a divine specter through the lightning-laced clouds. Her six feathered wings spread wide, trailing shimmering particles of white and blue, each beat of their movement disturbing the silence of the storm.
The sky cracked with a deafening roar as arcs of silver lightning webbed across the heavens, illuminating her figure like an omen in flight. The wind howled against her face, yet she remained untouched, her expression serene—almost solemn.
Beneath her, the towering spires and bleak rooftops of the City of Silver passed in a blur, distant and pale under the flickering stormlight.
She wasn't flying aimlessly.
With a sense of purpose, her gaze turned East. What lay toward the Eastern region beyond the City were numerous rigid plains filled with small mountains and hills. Beyond those however, was...a city!
The City was almost an exact copy of The City Of Silver. Except this version of it had an intense fog that surrounded the part of the Northern parts of it and all of the Eastern parts.
'Finally, my new bargaining chip!' A widespread grin came onto her face and she then turned and cast her sight in opposite direction.
What entered into her eyes was the vision of a huge mountain with ruins teeming all over it. What lie after the mountain was beyond her line of sight.
She then turned to the South, and a disappointed look spread across her face. As far as she could see, there was nothing there. Literally nothing - no mountains or plains, just...ground.
She inwardly lampooned at the suspenseful build-up of what she thought would be a new shocking discovery in the South direction. She then mentally prepared herself for more disappointment as she slowly looked over to the North.
But such disappointment never came! In the North, a desolate City was present with no aura of having any living creatures in it. It seemed like the perfect place to be turned into a base of operations.
Capella's mind was already thinking of all of the ways she could use this beneficial information to her interest, the first option being a path onto The Six-member council.
She then began to morph into countless ravens once again, and started her descent to the ground.
...
After descending back to the earth, Capella began her quiet journey toward the Twilight Orphanage—a place named after the city's most well-known beyonder pathway - the Twilight Giant.
She had since shed her divine guise, returning to her original form, though now adorned in a modest yet elegant black noble dress. The garment was chosen with care, a concession to the sensitivities of her next audience. When among children, even she understood the necessity of appearing more demure—something the world might label as "appropriate."
Basically, she had to make herself more pg.
The orphanage itself was a sanctuary for the broken and forgotten—children whose parents had been consumed by monsters, lost to madness, or corrupted by the shifting powers that plagued this land. It stood proudly as a three-story mansion, once fit for a duke or minor royal, now repurposed into a cradle of survival and fractured joy.
Sprawling across the estate were lush gardens, playful structures, and whimsical contraptions—swings that sang in the wind, slides that spiraled like shells, and shaded nooks and tubes for children to hide inside.
Behind the main residence, another building stood: quieter, older, and cloaked in ivy. It served a different purpose—perhaps a place for study, or for the caretakers to hold the burdens the children should never bear.
As she walked onto the property, numerous caretakers of the front gardens greeted her with friendly smiles and waves, recognizing her as their newest benefactor's lovely daughter.
She then gracefully walked onto the doorsteps and hit the doorknocker rhythmically three times.
After a few seconds of waiting, a maidservant dressed in a nun's clothing opened the door and embraced Capella at first sight.
"Little Capella, its a joy as always to see you come and help the children here! Today will you be spending time in the library as usual or would you like to join them outside on the playing grounds?" She said with a smile.
"After I finish conversing with my mother inside, I shall go to the library per usual Madame Irene. And it is as joyous for you as me to spend time with the orphan kids." She said expressing a gentle and soft smile.
Women who acted as nobility in this city and held lofty positions were often addressed with the moniker 'Madame'.
Madam Irene's eyes then softened even more, with tears building up out happiness. "Oh Dear Capella...you really are the future of our City Of Silver. It's no wonder the Creator hath chosen you with your mature demeanor and kind actions."
She then stepped beside the entrance, allowing Capella to walk inside. The inside was as majestic as the outside, with twinkling chandeliers and glass-stained paintings depicting previous epochs everywhere.
She then walked down the lobby flashing tender smiles towards the staff and wandering children. Once she got to the ascending spiraled staircase, she elegantly walked up them gazing at the paintings.
One of them, showed a lady with pointed ears helping a small boy up. Behind the lady was a tree that shined with light and vitality.
After finishing her journey on the steps, a long hallway lay in front of her.
Numerous doors were on each side with different names and numbers hanging above them.
Finally, she arrived at the biggest door at the end of the hall, with an overhead plaque titled "Madame Beatrice 101" .
This was the room of the orphanage head, as well as the place Lara was currently inside.
When Capella slowly opened the door, she saw her mother and Madame Beatrice were sitting on a scarlet couch right next to each other indulging in fine winery. Madame Beatrice was also a beautiful lady with tied up brown hair, and hazel eyes, wearing an elegant green noble dress.
Her lips were adorned with red lipstick and she seemed to be leaning awfully close to Capella's Mother.
Suddenly, she firmly pressed her lips against Lara's! Madame Beatrice's tongue began exploring her's with an uncontrolled finesse.
Lara then softly put her hand behind Beatrice's head pushing themselves closer together.
Having to stop herself from indulging in the scene in front of her thanks to herself fully merging with the 'Mother Tree Of Desire's' fragment in her soul, she felt that she had seen enough and cleared her throat with a fist in front of it.
"Ahem..."