In the sovereign palace, deep within the ancient stone walls that had witnessed countless epochs, Ajitha sat in his secluded chamber, the very air around him vibrating with the residual energy of his cultivation. The chamber, a sanctum where only the highest of the high dared to meditate, was a space of serene silence, with intricate carvings of forgotten deities and celestial beings adorning the walls. Each carving was a testament to the palace’s age and the power that had been accumulated here over millennia.
Ajitha’s eyes, closed for what seemed like an eternity, suddenly snapped open. His gaze, sharp and clear as the brightest star in the night sky, took in the surroundings with a renewed sense of clarity. The energy that had been coursing through his veins slowly settled, the sin flames flickering gently around him, casting eerie shadows on the walls. The flames were both a blessing and a curse—a source of immense power, yet a constant reminder of the price he had paid.
He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the celestial energy still leaking from his nebula-core, a relentless countdown to the three years he had left. But in this moment, there was no fear, only a steely resolve. He had returned from Elsinore with knowledge and tools that could change his fate—if he wielded them wisely.
Ajitha stood, his movements graceful and controlled, as befitting a Divine Lord. The rich fabrics of his robes, woven from threads of starlight and shadow, shimmered as he moved. The room itself seemed to pulse in response to his awakening, the energy he had been channeling for so long now returning to the ether. He had been cultivating for days, possibly weeks, but the exact passage of time was unknown to him.
As he exited the chamber, the doors—massive slabs of polished stone inlaid with runes that only a few in the universe could decipher—opened soundlessly before him. The halls of the palace were as grand as they were silent, with towering pillars that reached up into the darkness, each one carved with stories of ancient battles and conquests. The flickering light of the torches, burning with a cold, blue flame, cast long shadows across the floor, making the already imposing architecture seem even more otherworldly.
Ajitha’s thoughts were focused on one thing as he made his way toward the main hall: Reginald. He needed to know how much time had passed since he had begun his cultivation. Yet, as he entered the vast expanse of the main hall, his sharp eyes caught sight of a figure he had not expected to see—Astrionis, the Celestium he had invited to construct the temporal formation.
Ajitha seeing Astrionis thought whether to meet him or not as he might notice his depleted life force but even after offering more than half of his life force to Yggdrasil, Ajitha showed no visible signs of change—his outward appearance perfectly controlled, as befits a Divine Lord, a true god. This ability to maintain his physical form was one of the many powers he wielded with ease. Yet, seeing Astrionis in the hall, Ajitha felt the need to speak with him.
Astrionis stood near one of the great windows, gazing out at the star-filled sky, his hands clasped behind his back. The Celestium’s presence in the palace was surprising; Ajitha had expected him to be tirelessly working on the formation, inscribing the concealment arrays with his usual meticulous care. But here he was, seemingly at rest.
Ajitha approached him, the sound of his steps echoing in the vast hall. "Astrionis," he called out, his voice carrying an edge of curiosity, "what brings you to the palace? I thought you would be busy with the concealment array. Have you completed it?"
Astrionis couldn't help but notice the sin flames that flickered ominously around Ajitha, casting a dark, eerie glow that contrasted sharply with the grandeur of the sovereign palace. The flames were not merely a visual spectacle; they were a manifestation of immense power, a force that few could endure without being consumed. Yet Ajitha, with his calm and composed demeanor, bore them as if they were no more than a passing breeze.
For a moment, Astrionis felt a surge of concern. The sin flames were notorious, feared across the realms for the corruption they brought, and yet here they were, swirling around Ajitha like a second skin. But as his eyes met Ajitha's, Astrionis made a decision. He chose to remain silent, suppressing the questions that rose within him. He knew that to mention the flames would be to question Ajitha’s strength and resolve—something he dared not do.
Astrionis turned, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Lord Ajitha, you overestimate my abilities," he replied, his tone light but tinged with exhaustion. "I've been fully engrossed in the work for the past two months. Even a Divine Lord like me has limits. I came here to rest."
Ajitha studied him for a moment, noting the weariness in the Celestium’s usually bright eyes. "Two months? That long?" He paused, processing the information. "You’re a Divine Lord, Astrionis. What health issues could you possibly have from just two months of work?"
Astrionis chuckled softly, a sound that resonated with the wisdom of ages. "Lord Ajitha, do not compare yourself to the rest of us. You’re unlike any other Divine Lord. Slaying gods even before you ascended—no, we cannot compare. I am but a creator, not a warrior. Besides, I don’t even hold the title of a Lord in the conventional sense, as I’ve never sought to build a kingdom of my own."
Ajitha shrugged lightly, a small smile playing on his lips. "We each have our paths. I seek strength to change the very fabric of my existence, while you create wonders that will outlast us all."
Astrionis sighed, his eyes drifting back to the stars. "We Celestiums... we are bound by our gifts. Creation is our power, but also our prison. Unlike Overlord Arcanovus, who shapes life and worlds and is revered as a god of creation, we serve. Our creations are our protection, our only means of survival. Without them, we would be vulnerable, enslaved to others’ wills."
In the grand, echoing hall of Ajitha’s sovereign palace, the air seemed to thrum with an unspoken tension as the conversation between the two Divine Lords deepened. The towering walls, adorned with ancient carvings and tapestries depicting legendary battles and forgotten gods, bore silent witness to the exchange. The flickering light from the cold blue flames cast long shadows across the mosaic floors, adding an almost ethereal quality to the scene.
Ajitha, standing tall and resolute, fixed his gaze on Astrionis. "You could’ve created a weapon strong enough to protect yourself," Ajitha said, his voice calm but firm, "rather than focusing solely on creating wonders for others."
Astrionis blinked, taken aback by Ajitha's words. For a moment, the Celestium seemed to be at a loss for words, his mind racing to process the unexpected suggestion. After a brief silence, he shook his head, his expression tinged with a mixture of disbelief and resignation. "What you suggest," he began, his voice barely above a whisper, "may have been the dream of many of our Ancestors. But they must have failed."
Ajitha’s eyes narrowed slightly, his keen mind already dissecting the underlying fear in Astrionis’s words. "Are you certain they failed?" he asked, his tone now carrying a subtle challenge. "Or were they stopped by others of your race, driven by their own cowardice? I recall an encounter I had a few years back during one of my adventures..."
As he spoke, Ajitha’s memories took him back to that fateful day—a day when he had stumbled upon a scene that both enraged and saddened him. "I found one of your elders," he continued, his voice growing more intense, "under attack by a wild beast. Instead of using his power to fight back, he chose to cower. He created a wall from a boulder and hid behind it, screaming for help."
Astrionis’s face grew paler with each word, the weight of Ajitha's tale pressing down on him like a physical burden. But Ajitha pressed on, his voice unwavering. "I decided to help him, but my weapon wasn't strong enough to pierce the beast's hide. And do you know what your elder did? Instead of using his power to defend himself, he extracted spirit metal from the ground and crafted fine weapons for me to use. With those weapons, I was able to slay the beast."
Ajitha paused, his gaze boring into Astrionis. "After the battle, he gave me a gratitude token, a symbol of your race’s appreciation. But the truth is, if your elder had only believed in his own strength—if he had the courage to use his powers to create weapons and kept throwing them at the beast—he might not have killed it, but he could have driven it away."
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There was a heavy silence as Ajitha allowed his words to sink in. Astrionis, for the first time in their long acquaintance, seemed truly shaken. The Celestium, who had always prided himself on his creations, now stood before Ajitha with the realization that his race’s greatest strength could also be their greatest weakness.
Ajitha’s voice softened, though the conviction behind his words remained unshaken. "Your race," he said, "reminds me of crabs from my world. They’re often captured and placed inside baskets. When one crab tries to escape, the others drag it back down. Perhaps some of your ancestors tried to rise above, to use their powers in ways that could have changed your fate, but they were pulled back by the fear and cowardice of others."
Astrionis’s eyes widened as Ajitha’s words struck him like a hammer to the chest. The Celestium’s composure crumbled, and for a moment, he seemed to be on the verge of breaking down. Then, something shifted within him. His eyes closed, and a single tear traced a path down his cheek.
Ajitha, sensing that his words had cut deeper than intended, took a step forward, ready to offer some form of comfort or apology. But as he approached, he noticed something strange—something extraordinary. Astrionis was not merely weeping; he was in the midst of an epiphany.
The air around Astrionis began to hum with a soft, almost imperceptible energy. The very fabric of reality seemed to ripple around him as if the universe itself recognized the profound shift in his understanding. Ajitha, now standing still, watched in awe as the Celestium’s tears transformed into tiny motes of light, each one a testament to the revelation unfolding within him.
Ajitha realized then that his words, harsh though they may have been, had triggered something deep within Astrionis. It was as if a door had been opened—a door that had been sealed shut for millennia, locking away the true potential of the Celestium race. And now, as Astrionis stood on the precipice of this newfound understanding, Ajitha knew that his friend’s journey had only just begun.
The hall, once a place of silent grandeur, now felt alive with the energy of transformation. As the minutes stretched on, Ajitha continued to watch over Astrionis, guarding the space around him as if protecting a sacred rite. Whatever came next, Ajitha knew that the path ahead would be different—not just for Astrionis, but for all Celestiums.
Ajitha felt a flicker of unease as he watched Astrionis enter the state of epiphany. The situation was not about Astrionis’s potential newfound strength; that didn’t concern Ajitha. He was a Divine Lord, capable of dealing with whatever change might come. What worried him was how long Astrionis might remain in this heightened state of insight. Epiphanies could last anywhere from a few fleeting moments to an entire month or more—a span of time Ajitha simply couldn’t afford.
He was on a tight schedule, every second precious, each tick of the clock bringing him closer to the moment he needed to execute his plan. The thought of waiting, losing days or weeks while Astrionis delved into the mysteries of the universe, gnawed at him. Yet, Ajitha knew better than to disturb him. Interrupting an epiphany could lead to disastrous consequences—at best, shattering the insight gained; at worst, causing a severe backlash that might leave Astrionis bedridden for months, or worse.
So, Ajitha waited, his patience a thin veneer over his growing anxiety. He sat cross-legged, channeling his own thoughts into meditation, allowing his mind to drift through the myriad challenges ahead. Minutes passed like hours, but finally, after what felt like an eternity, Astrionis stirred.
The Celestium’s eyes fluttered open, his expression one of momentary confusion as he reoriented himself. Ajitha rose, a wave of relief washing over him. He approached Astrionis cautiously, noting the change in his demeanor. “How are you feeling?” Ajitha asked, his voice calm but probing.
To his surprise, there was no significant shift in Astrionis’s aura—no surge of power that usually accompanied a successful epiphany. Instead, there was a hollow look in his eyes, a vacancy that hadn’t been there before, as if the fire of life within him had been extinguished.
Astrionis’s voice, when he spoke, was laced with despair. “I really don’t know what to say, Lord Ajitha. I see now… I’ve made so many mistakes. This all feels like a sin—a burden I can’t bear. I feel like… I should end it all.” His voice broke, and tears began to stream down his face, his body trembling with the weight of his realization.
Ajitha quickly moved closer, placing a reassuring hand on Astrionis’s shoulder. “You don’t need to take such extreme measures,” he said gently. “Life is full of chances. It gives us the opportunity to learn from our failures, to correct our mistakes. You failed this time, but there’s always another chance to make things right.”
Astrionis seemed to cling to Ajitha’s words, his sobs subsiding as he considered them. A sudden clarity sparked in his eyes, and without warning, he grabbed a jade slip from within his robes. He started inscribing something onto it with a focus and intensity that surprised Ajitha.
Once finished, Astrionis handed the jade slip to Ajitha. “Lord Ajitha,” he said, his voice steadier now, though still touched by sorrow, “the formation I’m building will help you travel back in time. When you go back, please find me—find the other me—and give this to him.” He held the jade slip out, his hand trembling slightly as he passed it to Ajitha.
Ajitha took the slip, feeling the smooth, cool surface beneath his fingers. He nodded solemnly, understanding the gravity of the request. “I will do as you ask,” he assured Astrionis. “The past version of you will receive this jade, and perhaps with it, a chance to avoid the mistakes that weigh so heavily on you now.”
Astrionis gave a weak smile, gratitude shining through the sadness in his eyes. Ajitha silently vowed to see this through, knowing that sometimes, the greatest gift one could give was the opportunity to try again.
Ajitha’s gaze remained fixed on Astrionis, his eyes conveying the weight of the task ahead. “For me to accomplish this, you must complete the formation on time,” he stated, his tone resolute yet understanding.
Astrionis, though still weary from the emotional toll of his epiphany, nodded with determination. “Don’t worry, Lord Ajitha,” he replied, his voice steadying. “I’ll complete the formation on time. If you want, I can start right now. Without taking any breaks, I could finish it in twenty days.”
But Ajitha shook his head. “No,” he said firmly, “I want you to rest. You’ve been through a lot, and you need to be at your best. The formation can be completed in a month, as you originally planned. We have time, and it’s more important that you’re fully recovered before resuming the work.”
Astrionis hesitated for a moment, then nodded, accepting Ajitha’s wisdom. He knew that rushing the process could lead to mistakes, and with a task as critical as this, there was no room for error. “Thank you, Lord Ajitha,” he said quietly. “I’ll rest, and I’ll be ready to finish the formation when the time comes.” With that, he turned and left the hall, heading to his quarters to rest not just his body but his mind, to reflect on the epiphany that had shaken him to his core and to plan for the future that lay ahead.
Ajitha watched him go, the faint echo of Astrionis’s footsteps fading into the silence of the grand hall. Once alone, he allowed himself to sink into one of the ornate chairs that lined the room, his mind momentarily adrift in thought. His plan was nearing its most critical phase, and while he had confidence in Astrionis’s abilities, the weight of responsibility bore heavily on his shoulders.
Just then, Reginald entered the hall, his expression apologetic as he approached. “My Lord,” he began, bowing deeply, “I apologize for not being here sooner. I’ve been occupied with maintaining the borders of our territory, ensuring that no one comes near enough to notice the formation.”
Ajitha nodded, acknowledging Reginald’s diligence. “Your work is appreciated, Reginald. We’re at the final stage of our plan, and nothing can go wrong now. The formation will be completed in a month, as Astrionis estimated. In the meantime, I’ll be leaving for a short while.”
Reginald’s brow furrowed with concern. “Where are you going at such a critical time, my Lord? We’re so close to completing the formation, and Chronos is still searching for us. If he were to find you…” His voice trailed off, the unspoken danger hanging in the air between them.
Ajitha met his gaze, his eyes calm but unwavering. “You needn’t worry about Chronos,” he said, his tone steady and reassuring. “I’m going somewhere he would never think to search—the inner areas of the galaxy. It’s a place that falls under the protection of the elves, and Elsinore is not far from there.”
Reginald’s curiosity piqued. “Where exactly are you going, my Lord?”
Ajitha’s lips curled into a small, enigmatic smile. “To visit Earth.”
Reginald blinked, momentarily taken aback. Earth was a planet of little significance in the grand scheme of the universe, yet it held a deep personal importance for Ajitha. The mere mention of it brought a sense of nostalgia and purpose—a reminder of where his journey had begun and where it might one day lead him again.
“Earth?” Reginald repeated, his voice filled with surprise. “But why now, when we’re so close?”
Ajitha rose from the chair, his expression thoughtful. “Because there are things on Earth that I need to see for myself, things that might be crucial for what’s to come. Besides, with Elsinore’s proximity, it’s a safe place—one where Chronos would never think to look. I won’t be gone long, but I must go.”
Reginald hesitated, then nodded, trusting in Ajitha’s judgment. “Very well, my Lord. I’ll ensure everything here proceeds as planned in your absence.”
Ajitha gave a final nod, appreciating Reginald’s loyalty. “Thank you, Reginald. I’ll return soon.”
As Ajitha prepared to leave, his mind was already turning toward Earth, a world that, despite its insignificance in the cosmic order, held the key to many mysteries. The journey ahead was as important as any battle, and he knew that the answers he sought could only be found on the blue planet that had once been his home.