The Godslayer's Path

Kyros slumped against the cold, stone wall of the academy library, his breath shallow but steady. The cloaked figure was gone, having disappeared into a swirl of divine energy after their brief clash. Kyros' body ached with every movement, a harsh reminder of its frailty. He flexed his fingers, clenching them into fists.

'This body is an insult to my legacy,'

He muttered under his breath, his tone laced with both frustration and determination. Yet, the encounter had stirred something deep within him. That sigil the figure used—he recognized it. It was a mark of servitude, a leash for a Lesser God's vessel. It meant one thing: the Gods already knew he was here.

As he straightened himself, the faint sound of footsteps reached his ears. A familiar voice called out, laced with concern.

'Kyros? Are you still in here?'

It was Alethea. She appeared in the doorway, her golden braid catching the soft glow of the enchanted lanterns. Her eyes scanned the room, widening slightly when they landed on him.

'You look like you've been wrestling with a hydra,' she said, walking closer.

Her tone was light, but there was a flicker of worry in her gaze.

Kyros offered her a faint smirk. 

'Let's just say the library is more exciting than it looks.'

She raised an eyebrow. 'You're hiding something. And judging by the state of that table over there, it wasn't a simple trip and fall.'

He followed her gaze to the shattered remains of the table the cloaked figure had destroyed. For a moment, he considered brushing her off, but something in her expression gave him pause. There was curiosity there, yes, but also a quiet strength that reminded him of his own unshakable resolve.

'If I told you, you wouldn't believe me,' he said finally.

She crossed her arms. 'Try me.'

He hesitated before speaking, his voice low. 'Someone tried to kill me.'

Her eyes widened. 'What? Who?'

"A vessel," he replied, his tone even. 

'Likely sent by a Lesser God. They know I'm here.'

Alethea stared at him, her expression unreadable. After a moment, she said,

'And why would a God care about someone like you? No offense, but you're not exactly a threat in your current state.'

Kyros chuckled softly, though there was little humor in it. "Let's just say I have a history with the divine."

She tilted her head, studying him. 'You're not telling me everything.'

'Not yet,' he admitted. 'But if you stick around, you'll find out soon enough.'

Alethea sighed, shaking her head. 

'You're impossible, you know that?'

'I prefer "captivating," Kyros said with a sly grin.

Despite herself, Alethea smirked.

'Fine. But if you get yourself killed, don't expect me to mourn.''

The next day, the academy buzzed with activity. The upcoming combat trials were the talk of the halls, with students boasting about their skills and strategies. Kyros moved through the crowd like a shadow, his mind elsewhere. He needed to prepare. If the Gods' vessels were already targeting him, it was only a matter of time before more came.

As he approached the training grounds, he spotted Ajax—the towering brute he had humiliated the day before. The boy's face twisted into a scowl as soon as he saw Kyros.

'Well, if it isn't the academy's new punching bag.'

Ajax sneered, his voice loud enough to draw the attention of nearby students.

Kyros stopped, turning to face him. 'Good morning to you too, Ajax. Have you finally figured out how to swing a sword properly?'

The crowd murmured, a few stifled laughs echoing through the air. Ajax's face turned red with anger, and he took a step forward.

'You got lucky yesterday,' Ajax growled.

'Let's see how cocky you are in the trials.'

Kyros' smirk deepened. 

'I'll be sure to bring a pillow for you to cry into when it's over.'

Before Ajax could respond, Darius' booming voice cut through the tension.

'Enough! Save your energy for the trials. Both of you.'

The instructor's glare silenced Ajax, who reluctantly stepped back. Kyros, however, met Darius' gaze with the same calm defiance as always. The instructor's lips tightened, but he said nothing more, turning to address the rest of the students.

The combat trials began that afternoon, held in the academy's massive coliseum. Students gathered in the stands, cheering and jeering as pairs of fighters stepped into the arena. The matches were brutal, a showcase of raw power and skill. Some students relied on their divine blessings, their attacks enhanced by bursts of shimmering energy. Others fought with pure technique, their movements honed to perfection.

Kyros watched from the sidelines, his sharp eyes analyzing every match. His body may have been weak, but his mind was as sharp as ever. He noted each fighter's strengths and weaknesses, cataloging them for future use.

When his name was finally called, the crowd's murmurs grew louder. Most of them expected him to fail spectacularly, a source of entertainment rather than competition. Kyros stepped into the arena, his wooden sword resting lightly in his hand.

His opponent was a wiry boy named Cassian, known for his speed and agility. The boy smirked as he sized Kyros up. 

'Try to keep up,' he said, his voice dripping with arrogance.

Kyros tilted his head slightly. 'I'll try not to blink and miss whatever you call an attack.'

The crowd laughed, and Cassian's smirk faltered. The match began with the sharp clang of a bell, and Cassian moved instantly, darting forward with incredible speed. His strikes were quick and precise, but Kyros sidestepped each one with ease, his movements almost lazy.

'Is that it?' Kyros asked, his tone casual. 'I was expecting more from someone who talks so much.'

Cassian's face flushed with anger, and he redoubled his efforts. But no matter how fast he moved, Kyros was always a step ahead, his wooden sword deflecting each strike with minimal effort. To the crowd, it looked like he was toying with his opponent.

Finally, Kyros saw his opening. As Cassian lunged forward, Kyros stepped aside and delivered a sharp tap to the back of the boy's knee. Cassian stumbled, and Kyros followed up with a quick strike to his wrist, disarming him.

Cassian fell to the ground, panting and defeated.

Kyros stood over him, his sword resting lightly against his shoulder.

'Speed is useless if you can't control it,' he said.

'You're like a rabbit trying to outsmart a wolf.'

The crowd erupted in cheers and laughter as Kyros turned and walked off the field, leaving Cassian to stew in his humiliation.

That evening, Kyros returned to the library. The worn book about the mortal realm still sat where he had left it, and he flipped through its pages once more. The tales of his past life were incomplete, but they sparked memories buried deep within him. Each fragment felt like a piece of a puzzle, slowly falling into place.

Alethea appeared again, leaning against the doorway. 

'Back to your favorite hideout?' she asked.

'It's quiet here,' Kyros replied without looking up. 

'And I'd rather not listen to Ajax's whining all night.'

She laughed softly, walking over to sit across from him. 

'You keep surprising people, you know. First Darius, then Ajax, and now Cassian. Everyone's talking about you.'

'Let them talk, Kyros said. 'Words are meaningless.'

Alethea studied him for a moment. 

'You're planning something, aren't you?'

He finally looked up, meeting her gaze. 'Always.'

Before she could respond, the sound of hurried footsteps interrupted them. A young student burst into the library, his face pale with fear.

'Kyros!' he gasped. 

'Instructor Darius wants to see you. Now.'

Kyros frowned slightly but rose to his feet. 'I suppose I shouldn't keep him waiting.'

Darius' office was dimly lit, the air heavy with the scent of parchment and ink. The instructor sat behind his desk, his expression grim as Kyros entered.

'You wanted to see me?' Kyros asked, his tone neutral.

Darius gestured for him to sit, but Kyros remained standing. The instructor's eyes narrowed.

'You've been attracting a lot of attention lately. Too much attention.'

'Isn't that the point of these trials?' Kyros replied. 'To stand out?'

Darius leaned forward, his voice low. 

'There are things you don't understand, boy. Forces at play far beyond your comprehension. If you keep this up, you'll find yourself crushed under their weight.'

Kyros met his gaze evenly. "I've faced worse."

Darius sighed, rubbing his temples.

'You're either incredibly brave or incredibly foolish. Either way, tread carefully. The Gods have no mercy for those who defy them.'

As Kyros left the office, his mind was already racing. Darius' warning only confirmed what he already suspected: the academy was a battleground, and he was right in the middle of it. But if the Gods thought they could intimidate him, they were sorely mistaken.

That night, as Kyros lay in his bed, a faint whisper reached his ears. It was a voice he hadn't heard in centuries, one that sent a chill down his spine.

"Kyros," the voice murmured. 'You cannot escape us.'

His eyes snapped open, and for a moment, the room was bathed in a faint, golden glow. A sigil shimmered briefly on the wall before fading into darkness. Kyros sat up, his jaw tightening.

'Let them come, he said quietly, his voice resolute.

 "I'll be ready."