Caelan’s voice snapped me out of my musings and he had stopped a few stretches away from the staircase.
“We are going to meet with Auretheos now, the Lord of this temple. He might be a little cranky because I have been gone longer than I anticipated. Also… he has very little social skills, so please don’t be offended by his behavior.”
I chuckled and said, “Don’t worry, I used to work in an old people’s home, I am used to dealing with cranky old men. If he is being rude, I am simply going to kick his cane or hide his glasses.”
Caelan smirked and started up the stairs.
“Auretheos might be a few centuries old and wearing glasses, but I don’t think you know what you are getting yourself into right now,” he said ominously as we reached the top of the stairs.
Before I could ask anything more, the doors of the temple opened and the smell of old books and leather waved towards me. I didn’t know what I had expected Aurelien to look like, but the man that stepped out of the temple looked nothing like the God of Wisdom I had envisioned.
He was tall, which seemed fitting for a God. His dark brown hair was interlaced with gray, or was it silver? It was difficult to see from where I stood, looking up at him. The hair was cropped short on the sides, the top was left longer, curling loosely in a way that made him look almost playful and chaotic. His eyes were a deep shade of brown like chilled whiskey. One of the most striking features of his face was the scar though. It ran from beneath the left side of his nostril down to his otherwise perfectly shaped top lip.
He was imperious. And intimidating. And absolutely breathtaking.
Peeling my eyes away from his face, I studied his whole appearance. His skin was covered in a layer of golden paint, giving him a radiant, otherworldly glow, as though he’d been touched by the sun. The paint created an intriguing contrast against his cream-colored robes, draping loosely over his tall frame. He truly looked like a God, like a figure from an ancient myth, brought to life in the present day.
My surprise and awe must have been visible on my face, because Caelan elbowed me in the side.
“Maelis, may I introduce Auretheos, God of Wisdom and Cunning and Lord of this realm? Auretheos, meet Maelis, the wordsmith.”
II
Part Two
As darkness ascends,
he must find a counterpart
whose voice weaves the fabric of magic itself.
Chapter 7
Iwasn’t breathing. Or blinking. Or functioning in any useful human way.
How was one supposed to greet a god? Was there protocol? A divine handshake? A respectful bow? I desperately glanced over at Caelan, hoping for guidance, but he merely stood there like this was normal. Like I wasn’t standing in front of an ancient being who looked as if he could dissect me with a blink.
Auretheos didn’t move. Didn’tbreathe, as far as I could tell. He stared at me with a gaze so sharp it felt like it was peeling back layers I didn’t know I had. It went on long enough that I started to squirm. I considered curtsying. I nearly waved.
And just as I was about to explode from the pressure of the silence, he spoke.
“You are female.”
That was it.
No greeting. No divine wisdom. Just a biological observation delivered in a voice so rich and smooth it didn’t even sound weird until three seconds later.
I blinked. “Uh… Yes. That’s… correct, my Lord. God. Aure-Audrius. Sir.”
His expression didn’t shift. He hummed, like that fact wasboth mildly interesting and immediately irrelevant, then turned and walked straight back into the temple without another word.
I exhaled. Loudly.
Caelan was already grinning when I turned to him. A smug, ‘I knew this would break your brain’ kind of grin.
“I warned you. He’s… unusual.”
“That was, without a doubt, the strangest and most surreal interaction I’ve ever had,” I said, half-laughing as I tried to gather my scrambled dignity.
