They resumed their journey through the canopies, led by Nydalea who seemed to know the path by instinct. At their next break, Clive sketched a rope with a steel claw—insurance against another precarious leap.

  But they didn’t need it. The path changed as they pressed deeper. Dense branches overhead wove together like bridge supports, creating natural walkways that eliminated the need for desperate jumps or swinging between vines.

  “Thank goodness,” Lucia breathed a sigh of relief. “How much farther do we have?”

  “We should be approaching the inner ring soon.” Nydalea replied.

  Lucia wiped sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. "That wasn't too hard. Sneaking works after all."

  “Don’t get arrogant now. Stealth might work here, but once we get to the inner ring, it’s impossible to hide.”

  Eventually, they arrived at the inner ring. Ahead, a wall of purple mist rose from the forest floor, dense enough to obscure everything beyond.

  Nydalea stepped into the mist barrier without breaking stride, her orange markings glowing brighter as the purple haze swallowed her.

  Clive followed. It was like stepping into toxic smog or inhaling ground glass. Each breathe scraped his throat raw. Within seconds, his lungs seized, forcing him into harsh, barking coughs that burned his windpipe.

  Nydalea backtracked, yanking him back through the barrier. Clean air flooded his lungs as she released him

  “Not so easy now is it?” She didn’t bother hiding her amusement, letting out a snide laughter.

  Lucia rushed to him, passing him a potion. “Here, take this antidote.”

  The antidote slid down his throat, cooling the fire in his chest. He straightened, wiping tears from his streaming eyes.

  "You could have warned us." He fixed Nydalea with a glare.

  Her smirk widened.

  "So how do we get through?" Lucia asked, corking the empty vial.

  "Only those blessed by the Earth Father can survive the deepest mist."

  Clive studied the swirling wall of purple that stretched in both directions through the trees. "The Earth Father?"

  "Our lord. Our protector. The Earth Father Titan."

  She turned away from the barrier and started down toward the forest floor. "Follow me. Titan’s sanctuary is nearby."

  Nydalea led them down from the canopies, along a narrow path that skirted the barrier's edge. The route twisted between contorted roots and fallen logs until the mist wall curved inward, creating a gap.

  "Here." She squeezed through the opening.

  It was as if they'd stepped through a doorway into another world. The sickly purple haze stopped at an invisible boundary, unable to penetrate this space. One step forward and Clive found himself breathing air that didn't burn.

  Lucia emerged behind him, inhaling deeply. "The air..."

  "Clean," Clive finished. No trace of the corruption that plagued the rest of the grove.

  The soil beneath his boots felt solid, with tiny white flowers scattered across the dark earth.

  A stone altar occupied the center of the clearing, similar to the one they found in the village ruins ealier. Spiral patterns covered the stone, the same designs that glowed along Nydalea's arms.

  She approached the altar and placed both palms against its surface. The altar pulsed with soft orange light, responding to her touch.

  "The last sanctuary, a fragment of the true Verdant Marsh preserved through the Earth Father," she said. "The corruption cannot enter here."

  "So who is the Earth-father?" Clive asked.

  "Titan," Nydalea said reverently. "The God of Earth who dreamed this land into being when the world was young. Before cities. Before kingdoms. Before your gods erected their stone temples and forgot the soil beneath.”

  Lucia studied the altar. "Titan... must be one of forgotten gods. Though nowadays the Church classifies earth spirits as lesser elementals, certainly not gods." She took out a small notebook to make a few scribbles.

  A low growl vibrated in Nydalea's throat. She spun her spear and drove it into the ground beside the altar. Dirt sprayed outward, and Lucia stepped back, coughing.

  "Your dusty books and temple politics mean nothing here," she snarled. "Titan's breath still warms the soil. His blood still flows in the underground rivers. His dreams still shape what grows and what withers. Your Church declared him forgotten, then made it so through fire and sword. But as long as I stand, Titan will never truly be forgotten."

  "Forgive me." Lucia tucked away her notebook, still clearing dust from her throat.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  Nydalea's posture softened slightly, though wariness remained in her eyes. "Your words are wind. Titan will judge your sincerity."

  She beckoned for them to approach the altar.Clive took the lead.

  "Kneel," Nydalea instructed. "The Earth-father hears those closest to the soil."

  Clive hesitated before setting aside his backpack and kneeling opposite Nydalea. The stone felt unexpectedly warm beneath his knees.

  "Place your hands here," Nydalea guided, indicating two worn depressions in the stone that perfectly fit human palms. "These hollows were made by a thousand years of prayer."

  [Certainty: Tsk, tsk… Clive. look who's about to accept the blessing of another deity. And here I thought we had something special, my little Pictomancer]

  Clive froze, his hands hovering above the altar. He'd grown accustomed to his patron goddess's unexpected intrusions, but this one caught him off guard.

  "Is something wrong?" Nydalea asked, noticing his hesitation.

  "Just... collecting my thoughts," Clive murmured, while internally addressing his divine patron.

  I didn't think you'd mind. This is just temporary protection, not a permanent allegiance.

  [Certainty: Am I not good enough for you? After everything I've done, gifting you with pictomancy, sending those delightfully precise skill notifications... Sigh, they always leave you in the end.]

  Clive tensed, concerned he had offended her. While Certainty could be blunt, she had been instrumental in his new existence. She always had his best interests at heart, even if her methods were questionable.Before he could formulate an apology, another notification flashed.

  [Certainty: Just kidding! Do I seem like the jealous, possessive type?]

  Honestly… yes.

  [Certainty: I'm the Goddess of Certainty, not Insecurity. The only thing I care about is that you get stronger and become an Ascended. No worries about which deity you have to... shall we say... *kneel down on* to get there. Though I must say, Titan is ancient beyond reckoning. More of a sleeping concept than an active god these days.]

  Clive suppressed a sigh, focusing on the altar before him while trying to ignore Certainty's running commentary.

  “Come on, Clive” Nydalea hissed. “Time is of the essence.”

  “Sorry.” Clive returned his attention to the present.

  As he positioned his hands on the depressions, Nydalea placed her own atop them. "Close your eyes," she instructed. "Feel the earth beneath the stone, beneath the marsh, beneath the corruption. That ancient dreaming is Titan."

  Nydalea began to chant in an unfamiliar language, occasionally pausing to allow Clive to repeat certain phrases.

  "Titan, earth-bone and root-blood," Nydalea translated softly between chants. "We seek passage through your corrupted dreams. This son of the brush comes not to harm but to heal. Grant him breath where others choke, sight where others are blinded."

  Clive closed his eyes and followed Nydalea's melodic chanting. As their voices harmonized, a soft golden-green light emanated from beneath their joined hands, shining up through the cracks in the ancient stone.The light intensified until it enveloped Clive entirely, seeping through his closed eyelids.

  When the brightness subsided, he opened his eyes to find himself in another realm. The land was a barren wasteland except for the mountain in front of him that had taken the rough shape of a man.Titan.His massive body combined elements of stone, earth, and crystal without attempting to perfectly mimic human form. Rivers flowed across his surface like veins, and forests grew along his shoulders and head.

  "Light-seeker." Titan's voice resonated through the ground beneath Clive's feet, vibrating up through his bones. "No. Wrong scent. Hades spawn? Ares-touched? No matter. Why are you here?"

  Clive planted his feet wider against the tremors. "I wish to gain your blessing."

  “My blessing… For what purpose?”

  “To defeat the Warden. His corruption spreads through your realm. I can stop it.”

  “The Warden…” Titan's head shifted, sending a small avalanche of stones cascading down his chest. “A fool’s errand. I have no desire to participate in this game of gods any longer. Let them scheme and plot. I have lost. My only wish now is to rest.”

  The resignation in that mountain-deep voice made Clive's hands curl into fists. "What about your people? Will you abandon them?"

  “People? My people are long gone. Slain by the light-seekers. None are left who worship me.”

  Clive clenched his teeth. Titan’s defeatist attitude pissed him off. What kind of a god wallowed in self-pity while his servants fought alone?“You’re wrong!” Clive shouted into empty wasteland. “One is not the same as none.”

  Titan stared at him.

  “Nydalea still tries. She hasn’t given up yet.”

  “This is no concern of yours, outsider.”

  "It is when gods abandon those who still believe." Clive stepped closer to the massive form. "She's out there fighting your battles while you sit here feeling sorry for yourself."

  The ground trembled as Titan began to move. Trees on his shoulders rustled and shed leaves that fell like green snow.

  "Silence, mortal. You would dare mock me?"

  The tremors intensified but Clive held his ground. "You call me mortal, but what use is a god forgotten by choice?"

  "Foolish child." Titan rose to his full height, forcing Clive to tilt his head back until his neck ached. Titan’s shadow fell across him like night.

  "The covenant prevents me from crushing you where you stand, but there are ways around such... restrictions. Take my trial. Survive, and you'll have my blessing."

  Clive met the ancient god's gaze without flinching even as his neck cramped.

  “I accept.”

  "Die."

  "The gods do not abandon us because they cease to love—they abandon us because we cease to call their names. But sometimes, in the space between forgetting and remembering, a mortal voice rises from the wasteland to remind even the divine what it means to hope."

  — From the Journals of Lucia Thornwald