The Faultline of Gods

The world was called "Eluthara," a name etched in the celestial language of the gods, meaning "The Bound Expanse." It was a realm of vast landscapes and hidden depths, where divine and mortal intertwined in a delicate and often brutal dance. The skies of Eluthara stretched endlessly, a tapestry of azure and gold during the day and a glittering web of constellations at night, many said to be the scars left by fallen gods.

 Eirian often thought of his world as both magnificent and cruel. Beneath its breathtaking beauty lay the chains of its true nature—a world dictated by gods who ruled as tyrants, their whispers shaping every facet of existence. But for him, Eluthara held a deeper wound, a story of loss and survival that he carried in the quiet chambers of his heart.

Eirian had been born into a family of Væstren Kall, a lineage proud of their divine blessings. His father, Alaric, was a Peak B-ranked warrior, his talents recognized across the southern provinces. His mother, Seris, was an Advanced A-ranked mage, known for her radiant spells that could illuminate entire battlefields. Together, they had been the embodiment of devotion to the gods, their lives devoted to serving the divine order.

But Eirian had been different from the start.

As a child, his flaw had manifested subtly. He could weave lies with unnerving ease, not out of malice, but as if compelled by some unseen force. "Where were you, Eirian?" his mother would ask, only for him to reply with fabricated tales of adventures that had never happened. It wasn't until his fifth year that his parents realized the deeper nature of his flaw—the lies extended to his very existence.

His flaw, later named the "Veil of Lies," rendered him imperceptible in ways no one could understand. The gods, whose omnipotent gaze surveyed all of Eluthara, seemed blind to his presence. This peculiarity should have been a blessing, but in a world bound to divine scrutiny, it was seen as a threat. The gods' wrath descended upon his family swiftly and without mercy.

The night of the attack was seared into Eirian's memory. Their modest home, nestled within the forests of Velhara, had been reduced to ashes by the divine flames of an enraged lesser god. Alaric had fought valiantly, his blade cleaving through the summoned emissaries of divine will. Seris had unleashed a storm of arcane energy that lit the night like a second sun. Yet, their strength had not been enough.

Eirian, hidden beneath the floorboards, had watched through the cracks as his parents fell, their final act a desperate enchantment to shroud him from the gods' senses entirely. As their lifeless bodies crumbled into divine embers, he heard the god's voice echo in the ruins:

"The abomination will not escape us forever. Even veiled, the world will remember."

When the gods departed, the forest fell silent. Eirian emerged into a world changed, carrying the weight of his parents' sacrifice and the chilling realization of his isolation. His flaw had spared him, but at a cost that he could never repay.

The following years were a blur of survival and secrecy. Eirian wandered the fringes of Eluthara, evading both gods and mortals. The Væstren Kall viewed him as a blasphemy, and the Azhmarak—with their disdain for divine oversight—would have dissected his flaw for their own ends. It was a lonely existence, but it forged him into someone resilient and resourceful.

At fourteen, he found sanctuary in the capital city of Kaelthar, blending into the bustling crowds and enrolling in the Celestian Academy, a school renowned for training both Væstren Kall and Azhmarak. Here, he became a ghost among the living, excelling just enough to remain unremarkable, hiding his abilities and the ancestral name that pulsed within him like a second heartbeat.

Eluthara itself was a world divided not only by its factions but by its layers of existence. The surface lands were ruled by mortals, their lives dictated by the paths chosen for them. Beneath the surface lay the Labyrinthine Underscape, a vast network of tunnels and caverns where ancient beasts roamed, their names waiting to be claimed by those brave enough to venture into the dark. Above the skies, the Celestial Veil shimmered, home to the gods and their eternal watch over the realm.

The gods themselves were not omnipotent but hierarchical, their power ranked from Tenebrous (Rank 10) to Luminous (Rank 1). The Eight Majestic Lords ruled over all, their will absolute, while the Sixteen Lesser Divinities carried out their decrees. These divine beings were bound by their ancestral names, words of immense power that no mortal dared to speak lightly. To utter a god's name was to invite their gaze, a risk no sane individual would take.

But gods were not the only forces at play. The Azhmarak, in their defiance, had created a world within a world, manipulating the essence of rank beasts to forge their own power. Unlike the Væstren Kall, who relied on divine pathways, the Azhmarak wielded flaws as both weapons and burdens. Their essence potential, ranked similarly to Væstren talents, determined the depth of their abilities. While they lacked the convenience of a leveling system, their tailored techniques allowed them to extract more power from each shard of essence, bypassing the wasteful sacrifices demanded by the gods.

Eirian's perspective on the world had always been shaped by his duality. He understood the rigid discipline of the Væstren Kall and the raw ingenuity of the Azhmarak, but he belonged to neither. His flaw made him an enigma, categorized loosely among the "Unbound"—a term used to describe those who defied classification. Among the Unbound, rumors swirled of a greater purpose, a role that would challenge the gods themselves.

For Eirian, survival remained his immediate concern. Yet, as he trained under the guise of mediocrity and observed the growing tensions between the factions, he couldn't ignore the pull of his ancestral name, Saen-Lorrin. The name was a key, a cipher that hinted at something greater hidden within him.

The training grounds were Eirian's sanctuary. Beneath the watchful eyes of instructors and peers, he practiced restraint, never revealing the full extent of his abilities. But in the quiet hours of the night, he trained alone, pushing himself beyond the limits imposed by his rank.

Tonight, the air was thick with anticipation. The national exams loomed, a chance for students to demonstrate their talents and earn favor among the elite universities. For Eirian, it was an opportunity and a danger. Excelling too much would draw attention, but failing would be equally suspicious.

He stood before a training dummy, its surface enchanted to withstand advanced techniques. Taking a deep breath, he activated a faint pulse of energy within him, channeling it into a controlled strike. The dummy shuddered but held firm. He stepped back, analyzing his form and recalibrating his stance.

In his mind, the voice of his mother echoed: "Power without control is chaos, my son."

Eirian nodded to the memory and repeated the motion, each strike more precise than the last. His flaw hummed faintly, a reminder of its presence, but he suppressed it, focusing on the rhythm of his movements. By the time the first rays of dawn crept over the horizon, he was drenched in sweat but satisfied with his progress.

As he returned to the dormitory, Eirian's thoughts drifted to the coming exam. The trials would pit students against simulated beasts and adversaries, testing not only their talents but their ability to adapt under pressure. For the Væstren Kall, it was a demonstration of divine favor. For the Azhmarak, it was a chance to prove their superiority. For Eirian, it was a stage where he would play the role of an ordinary student, hiding his truth in plain sight.

But deep within, he knew that the time for hiding would not last forever. The gods were watching, and the name Saen-Lorrin burned brighter with every passing day, a flame that refused to be extinguished.

In the heart of Eluthara, where gods and mortals clashed in an eternal struggle, Eirian stood as an anomaly, a shadow against the bound expanse. And in the silence of his own thoughts, he whispered a vow to the parents he had lost:

"One day, I will shatter these chains."