CHAPTER 246: PARADISE

ERIS

I woke to beauty that shouldn’t exist.

Sky so clear it looked polished, like someone had taken a cloth to the atmosphere and buffed it until it shone.

Mountains rising in the distance, peaks crowned with snow that caught light and scattered it into prisms. Waterfalls cascading down cliff faces, their mist catching rainbows. And everywhere, everywhere... flowers.

They carpeted the ground in impossible abundance... delicate blooms in shades of white and pale blue and silver, petals edged with ice that never melted.

They grew in clusters around trees whose bark looked like frozen lightning, climbed up stone outcroppings that defied gravity, floated on the surface of pools so still they mirrored the sky perfectly.

I was lying on my back in the middle of it all.

I sat up slowly, muscles protesting the movement. My body felt heavy, like I’d been sleeping for days. Or maybe like I’d burned myself from the inside out and was still recovering. Hard to tell.

The place was stunning. Breathtaking in a way that made my chest ache. It screamed frost in summer, winter in spring, a perfect balance of opposites that shouldn’t work but somehow did. Cold and warm existing in the same space without fighting, without one trying to consume the other.

This wasn’t the liminal space I usually found myself in when I went unconscious. That place had been formless, empty, void-like. Just silver nothing stretching forever. But this? This was real. Solid. Beautiful enough to be paradise.

Had I finally died again?

The thought came with strange detachment. Maybe the spell had been too much. Maybe my body had given out despite Pyronox’s cooperation, and the cruel author had finally decided to grant me something resembling peace. A resting place. Somewhere pretty to spend eternity.

I stood, brushing frost flowers from my clothes, and started walking.

The ground beneath my feet was soft, springy, like moss over stone. Each step released a faint fragrance... something between mint and pine and clean winter air. The waterfalls sang in harmony with wind rustling through impossible trees. Peaceful. Too peaceful for someone like me.

"You know, curiosity looks absolutely adorable on you."

I froze.

That voice. That insufferable, smug, eternally amused voice that made me want to set things on fire just on principle.

"Orrian."

I turned, already irritated before I even laid eyes on him.

He stood a few paces behind me, materialized from nothing like he always did. Still wearing that form that was almost human but not quite... beautiful in an unsettling way, features too perfect to be natural. And grinning. I couldn’t see his face fully, could never quite focus on it directly, but I felt the grin. Wide and delighted and entirely too pleased with himself.

"Eris Igniva," he said, my name rolling off his tongue like honey. "Truly spectacular. I mean it. You continue to exceed every expectation I’ve had for you."

"I’m not in the mood," I said flatly. "Am I dead? Did I finally die? Is this the paradise the author decided to grant me after everything?"

Orrian laughed. Not a polite chuckle but a full, genuine laugh that echoed across the impossible landscape. Birds I hadn’t noticed before took flight from nearby trees, startled by the sound.

I glared.

He squealed like a rat, flying behind a tree to hide from me. "Stop that! Stop being so mean to your biggest fan!"

"Who?"

"Me, obviously." He gestured to himself like it should have been apparent. "I’ve been watching you since the beginning, rooting for you, getting genuinely invested in your journey. Do you know how rare that is? I’ve witnessed thousands of stories, Eris. Thousands. And yours? Yours is magnificent."

"Answer the question. Am I dead?"

"No, no, still very much alive." He waved dismissively. "Though I’ll admit, it was touch and go there for a moment. What you did was... " He made an explosive gesture with his hands. "... incredible. Spectacular. Did I already say spectacular? Because it bears repeating."

"What did I do?" I asked, though I knew. Just wanted to hear him say it.

Orrian’s excitement became almost physical, energy crackling around him like static electricity. "You dragged all those demons back to hell! Every single one! Do you understand what that means?"

"It means I completed a banishment spell."

"It means a rift to another realm was opened carelessly... a completely foreign world from your own... But then you forced it closed while simultaneously dragging hundreds of corrupted beings back through it."

He was practically vibrating. "The gates of hell aren’t a door you can just slam shut, Eris. Not in this story.They’re a wound in reality. They fester. They spread. They corrupt everything they touch. But you? You sealed it. Perfectly. Like stitching up a tear in fabric."

I shrugged, trying for nonchalance I didn’t entirely feel. "It’s nothing."

"It’s not nothing!" He looked almost offended. "It’s a feat even the realm itself wasn’t prepared to witness. Hell is an entirely separate entity, existing outside the normal rules of your world. To touch it, to manipulate it, to send its denizens back and lock the door behind them... that requires power on a scale most mortals can’t comprehend."

I understood what he meant. Hell wasn’t like other places. It existed between dimensions, feeding on corruption and suffering, sustained by something older and darker than the gods who’d created my world. Touching it should have tainted me. Changed me. But it hadn’t.

Or at least, I didn’t think it had.

"Where am I?" I asked again, looking around at the impossible beauty surrounding us.

Orrian made a mischievous sound, something between a hum and a laugh. His form shifted slightly, like he was feigning innocence poorly. "Hmm? Where are you? That’s an interesting question."

"Why did you bother showing up if you’re not going to be useful?"

"So mean," he muttered, but there was fondness in it. Then his expression shifted, became more serious. "I came to see you because your actions are completely changing the trajectory of the story."

I felt something cold settle in my stomach. "What do you mean?"

"Well," Orrian began, pacing now, his form leaving faint afterimages as he moved. "Caelen is supposed to be the hero. His story is supposed to be told... the common man rising above his station, overcoming the cruel villainess who tormented him, saving the realm through courage and determination."

"I know the plot."

"But you’ve given up your role," he continued, ignoring my interruption. "You’re not tormenting him anymore. You left. Abdicated. Followed another emperor entirely and are currently doing very heroic things like saving cities from demon attacks. So how will Caelen be forged into a hero this time? What circumstances will drive him? What will be the end result?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but pain lanced through my chest. Sharp, sudden, like someone had driven a spike between my ribs. I gasped, hand flying to my sternum.

"Ah," Orrian said, voice softening. "That would be the aftereffect of pushing yourself too far. Mortal bodies aren’t meant to channel that much divine power. The seal breaking, Pyronox’s full strength flowing through you... there will be consequences."

"It’s nothing," I managed through gritted teeth.

"Be careful, Eris." His tone held genuine concern. "You’re tougher than most, but even you have limits. And this world..." He gestured vaguely at everything around us. "This world is becoming unpredictable. The story is unraveling in ways not even the author might be able to predict."

The pain faded slowly, leaving an ache like a bruise deep inside.

"Speaking of unpredictable," I said, catching my breath. "My seal broke. Completely. Pyronox was free. He could have taken over, consumed me, used my body to walk the earth again. But he didn’t." I looked at Orrian directly. "Why?"

For the first time since appearing, Orrian looked genuinely puzzled. His form flickered, destabilized slightly. "I have no idea."

"You’re supposed to be the keeper of stories. The keeper of the veil. Whatever other titles you’ve got. How can you not know?"

"Because this isn’t scripted anymore," he said quietly. "The moment you chose to change your fate, the moment you stepped off the path laid out for you, the story began writing itself. And Pyronox cooperating with you instead of destroying you? That’s..." He trailed off, shaking his head.

"That’s unprecedented. Gods don’t cooperate. They take, they command, they consume. They don’t lend power and wait patiently for their vessel to finish using it."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

Orrian laughed nervously. "Time will tell. Though if I had to guess... "

"You were going to tell me where I am," I interrupted. "Before you got distracted."

"Oh. Right. Yes, about that... "

The sound cut him off.

Heavy wings. Massive, powerful, beating the air with force that sent ripples across every pool, that bent trees and scattered frost flowers like snow. And underneath it, a growl. Not the warning sound a wolf makes or the threat a bear issues. This was deeper, older, the kind of sound that resonated in bones and made instinct scream run.

My chest pulsed. Once. Twice. In rhythm with the wingbeats.

"I have to go!" Orrian said quickly, already fading. "Good luck! You’re doing wonderfully! Try not to die!"

"Wait... "

But he was gone, dissolved into light that scattered like stars.

I turned.

The dragon was descending.

Colossal didn’t do it justice. This creature... this god... filled the sky like a storm made solid. Black scales caught faint blue highlights from the clear atmosphere, glossy and perfect, each one larger than my torso.

Wings folded against its body, membranes stretched between finger bones thick as ancient trees. Long, jagged horns crowned its massive head, and a mane of what looked like living smoke whipped in the wind of its own creation.

Its eyes were amber. Glowing. Burning with intelligence that predated human civilization.

Compared to it, I was nothing. An insect. A speck. If it stepped on me, I would simply cease to exist, crushed beneath divine weight without the dragon even noticing.

This was Pyronox.

The Flameborn. The First Fire. The god sealed inside me since I was five years old.

I’d felt him my entire life... his rage, his power, his presence like a second heartbeat beneath my own. But I’d never seen him. Never witnessed him in his true form, free and whole and utterly terrifying in his majesty.

He was beautiful.

So beautiful it hurt to look at directly. Like staring at the sun, if the sun was made of midnight and destruction and the promise of burning worlds.

The dragon landed with earth-shaking force. Not violently, but the sheer mass of him made impact inevitable. Frost flowers vaporized in a circle around his claws, earth compressing beneath weight that shouldn’t exist in mortal realms.

He lowered his enormous head, bringing one massive eye level with me. The pupil was vertical, slit like a cat’s, and when he blinked it was like a door closing on the world.

When he spoke, reality itself vibrated.

"VESSEL."

The voice was everything and nothing... sound and concept and divine command braided together. It didn’t just enter through my ears; it resonated through my entire being, vibrating in my chest where our connection lived.

"WHY HAVE YOU COME HERE?"