-----Chapter 23.1: The Nameless Stigma-----
The gods did not look back.
They did not hesitate.
They took their followers and left, their golden forms vanishing beyond the horizon, moving with a purpose none could understand. The mortals who knelt before them followed without question, their eyes filled with reverence, their footsteps guided by something unseen.
But not all had followed.
Sofia stood among those who remained, her fingers curling into a fist. The wind whispered across the broken earth, carrying with it the last remnants of something divine. Yet it was not comforting. It was hollow.
She had been raised to follow. To listen. To kneel.
So why hadn't she?
Beside her, Samantha stood unmoving, arms crossed. Her gaze followed the retreating gods, but there was no devotion in her expression—only something unreadable, something restrained.
The warriors, priests, and survivors who remained shifted uneasily. A few still whispered prayers under their breath, but they sounded uncertain now, as if they were reciting them from memory, rather than belief.
They should have left.
They should have followed.
Yet they remained.
Because something wasn't right.
The silence stretched. It was heavy, pressing against their skin like unseen hands.
Sofia exhaled, barely above a whisper. "Let's go."
Samantha hesitated for only a second, then gave a slow nod.
Without another word, they turned.
The gods were gone.
Now, they had to decide what came next.
---
The chamber was silent.
Not the kind of silence that came from stillness, but the kind that felt unnatural—like something unseen had coiled itself into the air, waiting.
Seven figures sat around the worn wooden table, torches casting flickering shadows against the stone walls. The flames crackled, but even that sound felt distant.
Sylvian sat at the head, his posture unreadable. Across from him, Sofia and Samantha sat with their backs straight, but their hands remained still—too still.
To their side, Alec leaned slightly forward, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, one foot tapping against the floor in restless silence. Beside him, Rosia sat stiffly, her shoulders slightly hunched, gaze fixed downward.
Sir Aldric was the only one who seemed outwardly composed, yet even he was too still.
Then—
Varen exhaled, breaking the silence like a blade through fog.
His fingers tapped once against the table. Then again. Slow. Deliberate.
"…So. What about you two?"
His voice wasn't mocking. It wasn't even accusatory.
But it carried weight.
Sofia lifted her gaze. "What do you mean?"
Varen's brow twitched slightly. "You know exactly what I mean." His arms folded against his chest, his voice measured. "Your master was guiding you, then why?"
The question hung heavy in the air.
Samantha exhaled softly, shaking her head. Her fingers curled slightly against the fabric of her sleeve.
"I don't know," she murmured.
Sofia's throat tightened. The words felt wrong in her mouth, but she had no better answer.
"I don't know," she echoed.
The silence that followed wasn't normal.
It was thick. Crushing. Unrelenting.
Varen ran a hand through his hair, exhaling through his nose. His usual energy, his usual fire—it wasn't there. His fingers pressed against his temple before he leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling as if it held an answer.
No one had one.
---
Alec shifted, rolling his shoulders, his jaw clenched. His fingers brushed against his wrist—a small, instinctive motion.
A slow, pulsing ache still lingered beneath his skin.
Sofia's hand flexed slightly, a faint warmth prickling beneath her glove.
They still felt it.
The stigma.
It was still there.
It had not faded. It had not left them.
"…What are they?" Samantha asked.
Her voice was barely above a whisper, yet it cut through the silence like a knife.
All eyes turned toward Sylvian.
He didn't answer at first.
His fingers curled slightly against the table, his shoulders barely shifting. His throat bobbed with a quiet swallow, but his face remained unreadable.
And then—
"I don't know."
The torches flickered.
Sylvian exhaled.
"I don't know what they are," he continued, his voice steady but quieter now. "I don't know what they mean."
The words settled.
They did not drift away.
They sank, heavy and immovable, into the stone chamber itself.
Alec's fingers twitched. Samantha's brows furrowed slightly. Sofia inhaled slowly, but she didn't speak.
They had all assumed—believed—the gods had given them these marks.
But now—
That answer no longer fit.
And that realization was worse than silence.
---
Sylvian's voice was quieter now.
"But I do know one thing."
Something shifted.
Not in the air. Not in the room.
In them.
"The gods are wary of us."
Alec's arms uncrossed slightly, his fingers twitching against his sleeve. Samantha's lips parted, but no words came. Sofia's breath hitched—just barely, but enough.
Because they had seen it.
The hesitation in the god's gaze. The way his attention had lingered on them too long—not in reverence, not in fury.
In uncertainty.
Like they weren't supposed to exist.
Like they weren't meant to be here.
The torches flickered.
The room felt colder.
Sofia exhaled sharply.
And then—
"I saw greed in their eyes."
The chamber froze.
Alec turned to her, his brows knitting. Samantha's shoulders stiffened slightly.
Sofia's voice did not waver.
"I have prayed to them my whole life. But in that moment, when I stood before them, they did not see me as one of theirs."
Her fingers pressed against the table, her nails digging slightly into the wood.
"They saw something they could not claim."
And for the first time, it all made sense.
The silence returned.
Not from hesitation.
But from realization.
The gods had not come to lead.
They had come looking for something.
And they hadn't found it.
----
No one spoke.
The torches crackled softly. The air in the chamber felt suffocating.
Alec leaned back slightly, his fingers drumming against the table. "…So what now?"
Sylvian exhaled.
"We decide what we do next."
Silence.
Then—Varen let out a slow breath, rubbing his thumb against his palm. His expression was unreadable.
"…So either we gather more people and prepare for whatever the hell is coming…"
"Or we start searching for answers ourselves," Aldric finished.
Sofia's gaze lingered on the table.
She had followed the gods her entire life.
And now, for the first time—
She was standing against them.
The chamber felt smaller.
The weight of the unknown pressed against them all.
No one spoke.
Because for the first time, they all understood—
They were walking into something far beyond themselves.
And the gods were watching.