1 - Heavy is the Crown

Fractures spread through the crystal surface of the hemispherical Vault like jagged veins, their threads branching across the ground and reaching the edges. The sharp, intermittent cracks grew more erratic with each heavy breath and clink of the plate armor worn, prompting Valrion to direct his full attention to what lay below his feet.

Without uttering a word or lifting a finger, golden light akin to the color of his eyes materialized out of thin air and flowed over every rippling line. It twisted and throbbed, battling against the gaps. He successfully mended most of them as if they hadn’t split apart in the first place, but new fractures emerged in other areas, rendering his effort futile.

He strained to pour more of himself into his power, sending a shockwave that whipped his long, tied-back white hair away. The light blazed brighter and raced faster, chasing after the rifts that moved just as swiftly, leaving behind faint traces of repaired splinters. If some other gods had been here and stated that all he did was needlessly paint on the plateau, he wouldn’t have the face to argue with them.

Sudden, constant growls resonated beneath the ground, followed by the deepening and expanding of every fracture, evading the speed of his force. The collapse had accelerated. His stomach lurched at the thought of his worst nightmare coming true. He adjusted the trajectory of the intense stream, letting it do its best to prevent the lines from converging into holes, knowing that if they did, the entire structure would crumble. He then moved to conjure a protective barrier.

He then focused on summoning a circular shimmer at the equator, expanding it upward and downward before it solidified into an invisible dome surrounding the inner walls of the Vault. All the while, his eyes stayed fixated on the warm illumination around the fractures, quietly wishing his determination would prevail.

Moments drifted by, and nothing seemed to change for the better.

Evidently, he wasn’t granted a brief respite when the cracks magnified further, causing a forceful burst of crimson brilliance to spill through the crevices, shooting wildly into the sky. He glanced up, witnessing it puncture the inside layer of his barrier.

Until now, he had only seen the profound red color within the crystal ground: the fount of rage and torment from the Twelve Eidolons accumulated over the past few millennia. It wasn’t even a fraction of their true might, yet it was able to break the defense of someone of his stature. He didn’t see it coming since he wouldn’t have conceived anything less than perfect—certainly not for a turn of events so significant.

He averted his gaze back to the ground as it quaked. Taking a few steps back to distance himself from the core that continued to shatter, high-pitched laughter rose, grating on his nerves and making his skin crawl. He couldn’t tell if it was mocking him or merely a sign of joy, but there was no time to dwell on such frivolous thoughts when his chances were growing thin.

Deep down, he knew he was heading toward a dead end with a slim chance to reverse the situation, but he couldn’t let it go. At the very least, he might manage to debilitate an eidolon or two when they broke forth.

With effort, he willed another golden light to patch the upper part of the invisible dome, strengthening it simultaneously, sacrificing more energy than he should have. His head felt clouded as his vision began to blur. Though none of these were good signs, he hoped his actions would prove more efficient than casting a new protection.

Surrender should be the last thing he did here, but his movement hitched when a soothing, masculine voice suddenly whispered in his ear, Leave, my son. Do not trade your soul for naught. Find shelter at home. They wouldn’t dare disturb the dwelling of gods.

He recognized the origin of the voice. The words spoken bore no lies: none of his doings were in his favor, and eidolons knew not to tread into Heaven carelessly. He was still reluctant to give in, but the command weighed more than his insistence.

The consequences were clear when he stopped reinforcing the dome. Not only did the crimson light graze the surface, but it also pierced through it, resulting in a clattering sound. Though it was far softer than the rumbles, it would only mean there was no longer anything sturdy enough to barricade the area.

“Son of Heaven.”

His eyes widened in the presence of another voice—an unfamiliar, husky female tone. He glared at its source: the rifts in the ground intersected and splintered before he could react to it. The crimson beams merged into a single stream of light, surging upward. Crystal shards flew in every direction—some nearly hitting him before dispersing harmlessly away.

“The King forged a magnificent cage for our twelve souls, yet it was his own beloved who destroyed its bonds,” the voice continued, dripping with scorn. “Even darkness knows tragedy.”

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Amid the violent flare and turmoil, he stood still, staring at the chaos unfolding before him. He gritted his teeth and squeezed his fist, fighting the urge to scream that this wasn’t the end—that one day, somehow, he would rebuild this Vault from scratch—but his eyes betrayed the truth of the crumbling structures around him, a reminder that he must leave.

Burdened by the growing weight on his shoulders, he turned around and vanished in a flash, letting the woman’s haunting cackle echo in his head. Her final words clung to him, tightening around his chest, but he pushed them aside, refusing to acknowledge the meaning they carried.

Sweeping, barren mountain ranges marked the safe perimeter of Heaven. Though he could keep on going, a vision seized him, halting him in his tracks—a revelation his father had imparted to every heavenly mind.

As if he had never left, he hovered above the crushed Vault and saw the Twelve Eidolons emerging from their prison in their primordial forms. Every last one of them—from the walkers who sneered at him to the flyers who didn’t express much. Without a single glance back, they fled Hell, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop them.

Eru would be their destination—the harshest mortal plane in existence, yet the very place that gave birth to them. Even the mightiest soldiers in Heaven would shudder at the thought of what was to come.

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Rarely did celestial souls encounter punishment, for as all-wise beings, they were meant to understand the distinction between right and wrong.

In Heaven’s history, such tragedies had occurred only a handful of times. Depending on the severity of the wrongdoings, all had lived through the malefactors getting transformed into statues in the deepest parts of Hell, slowly eroding over time, to a harsher case like being isolated to a barren planet, where they would taste loneliness for eternity.

Valrion couldn’t presume what would be his when he arrived at the Celestial Hall.

Hundreds of gods had stood along the moonstone pathway, waiting for him in their ethereal garments and gears that glimmered like starlight. Most would consider this one of the most essential places in Heaven, where the King of Heaven spent much of his time seated upon the all-white stone Throne atop the altar. The Throne was framed by an archway of the same hue, with golden birds perched along its upper edges.

Situated on a warm-colored lake—a blend of gold, orange, and red—the hall’s foundation allowed gods to walk freely without the chance of falling. There were no pillars, walls, or roofs to enclose the space. The immense sun behind the altar seemed capable of swallowing the area in one gulp, yet its intense light brought no harm to anything.

The last two times such a large gathering had taken place were when Valrion and his younger sister were born. In the divine realm, the rhythm of existence isn’t bound by mortal definitions —the sky remained eternally bright, never fading to night. However, if a comparison had to be made, it could be said that thousands of human years had passed since then.

Just as they differed from mortals, all heavenly inhabitants were granted the choice to learn the universe’s history, even long before their existence. He remembered well when his mother had cradled him up to the Throne—her flowing dress gliding along the broad steps. Carefully, she had placed him on his father’s lap before standing beside him and facing the crowd ahead.

“To those who guard the living and the spirits, pay honor to your future ruler. One day, he shall claim this throne as his own. Tend to him with gentle care,” his father had intonated, maintaining his stoic demeanor. Right after, he saw all the gods bow their heads simultaneously.

His sister had received a similar treatment—how their mother had brought her to their father—but the Throne was never mentioned. The gods still paid her their most profound respect, but as the secondborn, it was a widely known and accepted rule that she could only take over if he could not do so.

It was never anyone’s concern since no Heaven’s heir had ever failed in their duty. Ironically likewise, there had never been one who stood before the altar with his head lowered and shoulders slumped, as Valrion was doing now.

“The Great War we waged against the Twelve Eidolons, the intricate Vault we crafted to bind them—now all is undone over a moment of folly,” his father began, reverberating through the hall.

As always, his father sat on his throne with an unfathomable visage. His mother was to his father’s left, her posture stiff and somber as if a hidden knife were being twisted in her side. Beside her, his much shorter sister appeared mortified, her expression stricken with fear, like a child encountering a hellish demon for the first time.

He had never seen them that miserable, but he understood why. If this had been someplace else, he would have tried to calm them down. Right now, he could only part his mouth several times before closing it again, not knowing how to retort to his father’s statement. He didn’t even dare to look at the man.

“Enlighten me, Son of Heaven, what do you think the Twelve Eidolons will do in Eru?” his father asked after a hush of reverence.

He didn’t expect his father to utter a question so daunting, but an old narrative resurfaced in his mind—one from a bygone era when the Twelve Eidolons, in their arrogance, rebelled against Heaven’s will, leading to the destruction of most life on the planet. Led by his father, Heaven waged a long and grueling war against them, emerging victorious only by a narrow margin.

Casting his gaze further down, the scene in his mind shifted to a possible future: the ancient beings succumbing to another cycle of hubris, but would they repeat their past mistakes, knowing the consequences that followed? Whether they could have won had one or two things been different, the fact remained: they had lost.

Slowly, he glanced up to meet his father’s eyes. “If they were to challenge us, they would need to find a new way we haven’t thought of before.”

“Then enlighten as well, to whom shall the blame be laid?” His father’s next question came fast.

He clenched his hands. There was a significant pause before he answered, “The fault is mine alone.”

From his peripherals, he noticed his sister’s mouth hanging open, but she quickly shut it when their mother gripped her clasped hands. His sister immediately looked down, her waist-length hair falling to the sides of her face.

“It is settled, then. I must proceed.” His father’s expression didn’t waver. “Valrion, Son of Heaven, you have failed in your sacred duty to guard the Vault of the Twelve Eidolons. Therefore, you shall be cast into Eru, estranged from the divine.”

The collective gasp that filled the hall was harrowing.