Page 23 of Lies Among Gods

"That’s the fun of it,” he chuckled. “You’re the blank slate, the undiscovered land. Everyone else comes to me with their expectations, their rules. You, little goddess, are the only one who looks at me and sees what I am, then still has the audacity to say no. It’s intoxicating."

"So, I’m a challenge, then,” she concluded, a small, self-deprecating smile forming on her lips.

"The most delicious kind.” He pushed his chair back and stood, extending his hand. “Now, I think this conversation requires a change of scenery. Somewhere with fewer eyes, and more possibility."

Lyra didn’t hesitate. She placed her hand in his, and the smooth, warm contact sent that familiar surge of chaotic desire through her. “Lead the way, Asmodeus. But you should know I’m not promising anything but trouble. And it’s probably time for me to go home."

"Trouble," he whispered, his eyes blazing with delight, “is my favorite course."

Chapter twenty

CHAPTER 15

Though the lands were bathed in the authority of War and Death, murmurs of unrest rippled quietly through the faithful. Small quarrels, once ignored, now ignited into bitter divisions, and even the obedient began to feel the strain of endless obedience. It became clear that conflict was never truly absent—it merely waited for a hand bold enough to wield it, and a god destined to shape it into Strife.

Snippet from “The Book of Natural History” By Priestess Antonella Killoran

Lyra sat on the edge of the leather chair in Alaios’s office. The room was the same as she remembered: sparse, organized, and smelling faintly of leather and something metallic, like ancient stone and ozone. Alaios leaned against the edge of his massive desk, arms crossed, and his posture radiating a rigid, contained energy.

He was detailing the first two trials, his voice a low, steady rumble that seemed to absorb the silence of the room.

"The Trial of Reflection isn’t about solving a riddle,” he stated, his dark eyes fixed on a point just over her shoulder. “It’s amirror without distortion. It will try to force you into accepting the version of yourself you hate most. Your only weapon is complete, ruthless honesty about who Lyra Nymphaea actually is, not who others tell you to be."

He paused; his gaze drifted to the rain-streaked windowpane; the grey light outside cast a faint sheen on his face. She watched him, waiting. Finally, he turned back towards her.

"The Reflection is the foundation, Lyra,” Alaios continued, pushing off the desk and taking a step closer, his eyes demanding her full attention. “You have spent your life being told who you are: the failure, the reject, the unaligned one, the—”

“No need to mince words to spare my feelings, I see,” she murmured, frowning.

“Would you prefer I did?”

“Maybe, yes.”

His eyebrow arched, a subtle movement. He continued as if she hadn't interrupted him. “You’ve also had labels placed upon you by your family, by friends, and now by society. The mirror will strip all of that away, forcing you to look at the girl beneath the labels.”

"But how do I prepare for that?” Lyra asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “If I don’t know what I’m supposed to be?"

"You prepare by studying yourself now,” he insisted. “Don’t wait for the trial to give you the answer. You need to perform your own self-reflection. What parts of ‘Lyra Nymphaea’ are real, and what parts are a mask you wear to survive your mother’s expectations, or other’s judgment, or even my scrutiny? What do you, at your absolute core, bring to the pantheon that none of the other gods possess?"

“You mean besides sarcasm and my sparkling personality?”

He shook his head. “If you are not ready to listen, we can end this meeting.”

“No!” she yelled. She inhaled deeply, the crisp air filling her lungs, before speaking. “I am listening.”

He took another step, closing the distance between them until she had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze. “You think you are simply ‘unaligned,’ but that lack of alignment is your core. It means you are not easily led. It means you question the world around you. What are your quiet, hidden strengths? What makes you angry? What do you fight for when no one is watching? You need to know that girl, because she is the one who has to pass. If you can define yourself before the trial tries to define you, you’ll have a chance."

"So, I have to be completely honest with myself,” Lyra murmured, processing the severity of the task.Do I really want another person disappointed in me? Namely myself.

"Ruthlessly so,” Alaios confirmed, with a slight tilt of his head. “Find your truth, Lyra. It’s the only armor that trial cannot shatter."

Nodding, she tried to mask the tremor in her chest, the cold knot of fear tightening with each beat.

He shifted his weight, moving back toward his desk. “The Trial of Want is harder. Lust and desire are not my domain, but control is. You will be offered effortless perfection. Love without consequence. Power without struggle. You have to be strong enough to reject the lie, because wanting the easy thing means proving yourself unfit to rule the hard one."

Lyra bit her lip, the rough skin of her lower lip catching against her teeth as she gnawed at it.Could I possibly be that strong?

"The Trial of Want is not about enduring pain; it’s about choosing responsibility over comfort,” Alaios continued, his voice maintaining its low, instructive cadence. “The visions it presents will be flawless, designed to exploit the deepest unmet needs of your mortal life. It could offer you the love you cravedfrom your family, the effortless acceptance from the world—everything that would make your existence simple and painless."