The Storm Tower | Vol.4, The Eldenarian Artifacts ✓

4.

Those two words felt like a punch to the throat. Madame Alizeh's words had barely registered in Makaela's head. A million different questions swarmed around inside her brain like angry bees.

Lumi was a god. Gods don't just fade.

Right?

She shook her head. "I...I don't understand."

"Sit down, child," Madame Alizeh ordered as she took a seat at the table, "and let me tell you about the gods."

Trembling slightly, Makaela sat down across from her. Something told her she wasn't about to be told the same story her father once told her when she was young.

The woman across from her pressed her hands on either side of the eldricite orb in the center of the table. Within seconds, the dull, grey orb lit up with a fluorescent, silver hue. Through the glossy surface, Makaela could see minuscule images floating in the center.

"What's—"

Madame Alizeh pressed a finger to her lips.

Gulping, she did as she was told.

"Billions of years ago, this planet was discovered by seven otherworldly beings with great amounts of power," the woman explained. "Where they come from, no one exactly knows. Even the founders of the Eldenarian Council, the chosen champions of these beings we call the gods, weren't aware of their true origins—"

"Wait a minute...." Makaela squinted at her teacher. "So they're not gods?"

"If we want to get specific, no," Madame Alizeh answered, "they are not."

What?!

She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

For as long as she could remember, she had been taught that the gods were the creators of the world and everything in it. The story had been that after they finished creating the planet, they formed human beings out of clay and water to inhabit it—along with the various other creatures who existed before them. Eventually, the gods picked seven of these humans to carry on the spark of magic that lived within them.

Thus, magicians were born. The rest was history.

But if what Madame Alizhe had begun to tell her was true, then that story might not have been as accurate as she thought.

If she didn't know any better, she would've accused the woman of heresy. But she did know better. And so did the Vayan monk. In fact, she knew everything about the history of magic. If anyone would know the truth about the gods, it would've been her.

Remy, her cousin, would have loved the woman. She smiled at the thought of them obsessing over the subject.

Makaela shook her head, as her disbelief and confusion came flooding back tenfold.

"What did you mean by 'Lumi is fading' then?" Her eyes widened. "Is she dying? No, that can't be. She can't die. She's...she's Lumi!"

A wave of nausea crested over her. Sweat beaded on her forehead as her vision swayed for a moment.

Lumi couldn't be dying. Especially not now.

The Vayan monk sitting across from her rubbed the deep creases on her forehead while grumbling her displeasure under her breath. "Get a grip, child. She's not dying. Not yet, anyway. But she is getting weaker. I can feel it in my bones. Before, she would speak to me every couple of weeks. She would show me visions of you and the other members of the prophecy—"

"You know who they are?"

"Stop interrupting!"

Flinching at the sudden noise, Makaela shrunk into her seat and nodded sheepishly. "Sorry."