“HOLY FUCKING SHIT I’M BEYOND FUCKED!”, Aurelius monologued. Well, most of his thoughts were along these lines anyway.

  The Quetzalcoatl known to Aurelius was an ancient evil deity who had single handedly ended the glorious age of the First Dragons. He was a God Slayer, servant of Destruction, Harbinger of the Apocalypse.

  Even among the scholars of the Magic Commission, Quetzalcoatl was not just a story but a figure proven in blood and stone. There were ruins carved with his legends, the countless revelations of angels who testified to his existence, and shattered remains of the Eastern continent. He was not a myth. At the very least, a legendary First Mage, and at most a literal incarnation of a god.

  Why then would such a god-like figure be interested in him? All three orthodox Churches stated that Quetzalcoatl the God Slayer had been sealed after slaying Venturis, the last of the True Dragons.

  Reciting His honorific name could bring absolute disaster. It was as good as inviting a vampire into your own home! Perhaps this was a trick to free Him, or maybe it was simply a way for Quetzalcoatl to rip his soul out and chew on it for supper.

  The thought made Aurelius shiver. He was almost certain that dying outright would be better than being devoured by a god. Death at least gave him a slim chance of lingering in the spirit world. At worst, he would dissolve back into mana. As much as he feared death, he feared far more the thought of Quetzalcoatl’s circle, His divine realm, or, most horrifyingly, His stomach.

  Most mages, confronted with this, would have steeled themselves. The wisest would have kept silent until the magic on their bodies bled them dry of mana. Some would have chosen to end themselves at the first opportunity, sparing their souls from worse.

  But Aurelius was not even given that choice. He could not speak. He could not move. He could not summon a spark of magic. All he could do was grit his teeth within his mind and pray that the spell choking him would one day dissipate.

  ???

  Hour 5

  “How am I thirsty!” Aurelius despaired.

  He had braced himself for death, but not for this. His throat grew parched, dry as sand. The more time passed, the more unbearable it became. His body screamed for water.

  Sleep would not take him. He could not even blink. Not that it mattered in this pitch dark world, but still… his eyes neither stung nor watered, yet they stared endlessly ahead, unfeeling.

  He had floated here for what felt like forever, sinking in cycles of despair and self pity. Nothing happened. No voice, no vision, no sound. Quetzalcoatl had not spoken since Aurelius first brushed against His honorific name. The silence was oppressive. It pressed down on him, dragging old terrors from the corners of his mind. And now, thirst added its bite.

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  ???

  Hour 10

  “Hunger?! REALLY?” Aurelius wanted to cry.

  The thirst was bad enough, but now hunger punched through his gut like a blade. Sharp, sudden, gnawing. He would have murdered for a scrap of stale bread. He cursed his miserable breakfast that morning—if time even worked here at all.

  And then the dangerous thought returned. What if reciting Quetzalcoatl’s name was not doom but salvation? The other two orthodox churches called Him a benevolent angel, a protector. Could the Church of Dragons have been wrong?

  It did not explain why he needed to say the honorific name, but when your stomach was eating itself, even a cursed bargain sounded tempting. Hours ago, he would have spat at the idea. Now it gleamed in his mind like water to a dying man.

  His will was eroding hour by hour. His faith was not ironclad. Aurelius was a casual believer, the type who prayed when convenient but not daily. That flexibility now gave space for doubt… and for hope.

  ???

  Hour 13

  Aurelius had had it. This was impossible. A fool’s errand.

  It felt like an eternity had passed. In truth, only thirteen hours. But thirteen hours in a void, unable to move, unable to shut his eyes, alone with his thoughts, stretched into something endless.

  The magic binding him showed no weakness. No fraying. No cracks. Nothing. He had not expected freedom to come easy, but the unchanging stillness crushed him. He was starving, parched, unraveling.

  He began to wonder if death at Quetzalcoatl’s hands would be a mercy compared to this. Surely the pain of a god tearing his soul apart would last a moment. This… this could last forever. And really, what use was he? A small fry like Aurelius could hardly be the key to releasing a god.

  And even if, by some absurd twist, he did succeed, surely the Magic Commission would handle it. The council had heavyweights, mages whose power eclipsed the imagination. They would restrain Him again. They always had before.

  In desperation, he had tried other names. The honorifics of angels, whispered prayers to the denizens of the spirit world. Even half remembered rites from the Church. None answered. Not surprising—he could not speak, nor cut his blood to seal the call.

  Piece by piece, his resolve crumbled. He began to look at the forbidden name not with fear, but with a grim kind of longing.

  ???

  Hour 14

  “YEP, I GIVE UP,” thought Aurelius.

  The silence was too much. The thirst. The hunger. The endless stillness. He was cracking. Perhaps days had passed. Perhaps years. Perhaps only minutes. He no longer cared. His resistance shattered. He did not care if this was a trick. Anything was better than this.

  And then panic surged. How was he supposed to say the name without speaking? His mouth was sealed. His body still chained. Was this an impossible task from the start? Was he doomed to float here forever, broken, insane?

  And then, his lips moved.

  For the first time in hours, his mouth opened. His throat stirred. His voice, impossibly smooth, spilled into the void. No rasp from thirst. No croak of weakness. The words rose sharp and clear, as though they had been waiting on his tongue all along.

  The honorific burned in his mind, heavy and undeniable, and slipped free.

  “Quetzalcoatl, Feathered Serpent of Might…”