There is a court above time.
A place where mortal names are spoken only in curses.
Where stars kneel and silence is enforced not by fear… but by law.
The Pantheon Court.
And today, it echoed with one name:
> "Aedric Valtoris."
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⚖️ The Summoning
The Court was a circle of thrones suspended in light.
Thirteen gods sat, cloaked in divinity.
Some shone like suns.
Others dripped blood into chalices of fate.
One wept continuously — for a world she could no longer feel.
But all of them turned toward the center.
Where a silver flame floated — and inside it…
Aedric.
Or rather, a mirror of him.
A memory-body, drawn from his soul.
Because he was not yet welcome to ascend in flesh.
---
The God of Order spoke first.
His voice was steel breaking bone.
> "This mortal has committed thirteen violations of divine design."
> "He has reclaimed the Fifth Flame."
> "Erased a Silence."
> "And rewritten memory."
> "Shall we judge?"
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🌩️ Arguments of the Gods
The God of Justice rose, blindfolded, golden scale in hand.
> "He has not broken the law."
> "He has exposed the truth — that we have none."
The Goddess of Flame, cloaked in burning chains, hissed:
> "He wields fire not born from us. He is an aberration."
The God of Shadows laughed.
> "Or evolution."
> "Perhaps it's time the fire chose a new bearer."
The Masked One said nothing.
Just watched.
As always.
---
🕯️ A Voice from Below
Suddenly…
A mortal voice pierced the chamber.
Lyara.
Her Eye of Fate bled through dimensions — a crack of violet in the divine sphere.
> "You do not own his story."
> "You tried to erase him — not because he's dangerous, but because he's free."
---
The gods trembled.
Freedom was the one word no immortal could bear.
---
👁️ The Verdict
Twelve thrones burned in silence.
One remained.
The God of Knowledge stood.
He wore no crown.
Only ink and wounds.
And he said:
> "I abstain."
> "Let the fire decide."
---
The silver flame at the center dimmed.
Then flared.
Inside it, Aedric's image smiled.
And vanished.
Not destroyed.
Dismissed.
---
💥 In the Ashlands
Aedric woke gasping.
Smoke surrounded him.
But he was whole.
Lyara stood nearby, still faintly glowing from the Eye's backlash.
> "They tried to chain your flame," she whispered.
> "But it refused to bow."
He looked at his hands.
A new glyph had formed.
Not on skin.
In air around him.
A living symbol:
> Storytouched.
He was no longer bound to the weave of fate.
He was writing his own.
---
🌌 Final Scene: The Pact of Embers
That night, far in the heavens, the God of Shadows descended into a forgotten library.
There, he found an ancient scroll marked:
> "The Ember Pact"
He unsealed it.
And signed a name.
His own.
---
He whispered:
> "The gods have judged."
> "But I… choose to rebel."
---