Gavirel could only stare at the shattered glass in shock as he watched those blue eyes narrow through it. The words repeated over and over until it was sickening. Over. And over. Over. And over. Over. And over again. He couldn't stand it.
It took a while for him to connect the dots, but eventually he did. His father was the man in the shard. His father was a God. Something in his mind told him to shatter that glass right then and there—to strike it down into the void with the rest of them.
On the other hand, a much bigger part held him back, knowing that somehow this was important to him. Even as he heard the words echo, he couldn't bring himself to do it.
"Be quiet, you selfish piece of shit!"
Then the voice stopped. The void was completely silent—not a whoosh of air, not even a shimmering sound from the glass shards. The sound of his breathing was unusually loud as he curled into a ball, holding back tears.
He didn't know how long he stood there, but he did so until the feeling went away. With his brain finally numbing down, he began to think about what was happening to him.
He remembered that every shard could speak and tapped one gently, and a voice came out of it. From the shards, he deduced that every single one of them was an assumption about himself from someone else.
He didn't know exactly what to do about them. Thinking about how he had destroyed nearly half of them, he grabbed one and smashed it. He noticed the place getting noticeably lighter—a faint yellow light appearing in the void.
Why did this happen? He remembered the voice saying something about him working at a tavern, and he went through more shards, making sure they said the same thing before destroying them.
Each shard created the same faint yellow light in the distance that seemed to be stars. He began to notice that each shard he had destroyed was a contradiction and began to group them.
He went through hundreds who made fun of him and his appearance. Most of the pieces were disregarding him, putting a frown on his face every time. Throughout the millions of pieces, there were very few that talked about him in high regard, but he knew he couldn't shatter the right ones.
The process was tiring, but with every shard he destroyed, it felt like his soul was lighting up. One thing continued to stay on his mind as he did so: his father.
The shards insulted him, calling him a bastard and a whore's boy. He wanted to destroy those, too, but thought it must've been too much of a risk if that wasn't his goal for this step.
How would they know what his mother was like, even if he himself didn't know her? How could they just say he was the son of a whore? If he was, it was better that he didn't have anything to do with her.
Sure, he was a smuggler, a liar, and maybe even worse—but survival was only for those who worked for it, and he did. Shard after shard, he destroyed, but even as he did so, it felt like they would never end.
Eventually, he saw a fracture behind the shards, but he knew better than to mess with it. He had already taken a big enough risk with destroying random shards, and one mistake would probably kill him.
He stayed in the void for what felt like days. Sleep never came to him, but he still never felt exhausted somehow. Each day was a rinse and repeat of constantly destroying shards and listening to the blue-eyed man through the shard.
Suddenly, a woman's voice, sounding like it was coming from above, finally began to speak to him.
"Thee approachest the end in thy fracture, my dear child. Fourth, thou goest to thy Primordium."
"What? Who's there!"
"Thou art I, for I am all. Smite thy fakes, lest thy time be undone."
Gavirel could only look up at the void, holding a shard between his fingers, trying to gouge out what the voice meant. He shattered the glass before looking back up.
"That doesn't answer my question. Where am I—"
"Hast thee become impatient? Thy hour draws nearest to you."
Gavirel didn't bother trying to decipher whatever the voice was saying, as he could barely understand half of it. Reluctantly, he listened to the voice, though rushing to destroy all the contradictions.
Eventually, he destroyed the last one, and a new path opened—a white gate with a bridge leading to it. Gavirel almost immediately went over to the bridge, following it to the gate.
At first, he walked, but that didn't last, and he began to run. When he entered the gate, a blinding white light shone in front of his eyes, and he covered them as if trying to hide from it.
It had been so long since he had seen a light so bright that he hissed at it like a scared cat. He slowly opened them, adjusting to the light, and saw three items in front of him on a platinum table.
The first was an hourglass with golden sand inside it and a glass of diamonds that was placed on its side. The second was a mirror with the words "Thou Hast Become I" engraved onto it. The last was what seemed to be a miniature black cube.
"Ponder well, my child, for thy destiny resteth upon thy own judgement."
The same voice called out to him, speaking in the same calm tone. He was slightly annoyed by its vague explanations, but still, it gave him an idea of what to expect.
Either way, he needed to choose, but he decided that now was finally a good time for him to get some rest, as the exhaustion caught up to him. His body felt as if it were being dragged by weights and chains as he lay down next to the items on the table.
He tossed and turned, but no matter how hard he tried, it was as if he was destined not to sleep.
"Weary art thou? Very well, I shall grant thee a day's respite."
Gavirel heard a loud click before he opened his eyes, feeling drowsy as if just awakening from an entire day's rest. He looked next to him, still seeing the items, and looked up at the void.
"Voice? No, that sounds weird. What should I call you?"
"Everything."
"Everything? As in the God of Everything?"
"Yes."
Gavirel's eyes widened in shock as he sat up. If he were interacting with the creator of all life and purpose, they must've had answers for him.
"My father, who is he?"
"Saries, God of Order, Bringer of Law."
"So my father is a God? Why would he leave me on Earth then?"
"Thou art a bastard, an object that can lay waste heavenly imagery."
"So all those days I was starving, every moment I had to run for my life, every single second that I spent in the cold was because he wanted to maintain his image?!"
She didn't respond for what felt like eons to Gavirel, just keeping him inside the never-ending silence.
"Choose."
"Choose? Choose?! Answer my question!"
"Thou cannot."
Gavirel knocked the items off into the void, only for them to reappear, making him even angrier. He couldn't do anything but just sit there and scream, repeatedly punching the table as hard as he could.
His knuckles turned crimson red, painting the platinum surface in his blood. The more he punched, the more he regenerated the pain-numbing effect in just a few seconds each time, until he was panting heavily.
"'My child'—this 'my child' that—but still, even you don't care about me!"
"Thou feelest not. For I hast lost my body with the seal. Now choose."
"With the seal? That seal was only made because of your carelessness with your son!"
"I wrought it not by carelessness; all came to pass as I willed. Good cannot be without evil."
Gavirel paused immediately, knowing she was right, but he had more to say. As he opened his mouth, nothing came out. Additionally, the fact that she outright admitted that she made something with the intent of it turning was even more of a problem for him.
"Why?..."
That was the only word he could muster up the courage to say. He needed answers, and she was the only one who could give them to him.
"Light casteth a shadow. A light devoid of shadow is as naught as a man bereft of limbs."
He didn't understand what that meant at all, not being able to do anything but just sit there and laugh. Was he going mad? Or was he finally realizing what she meant? Either way, his laughter still filled the void.
He couldn't stop growing louder and louder by the second, until it was uncontrollable, and he desperately clung to his jaw, trying to stop it. What was he thinking? Just because some nobles took him in, the world would change?
Deep down, he always knew it would remain the same; he just didn't want to admit it. But now here, the God of Everything was just proving his point. Everything in the world was as dark as this entrapping void.
He finally managed to stop his laughter before looking back up at the voice.
"What the hell is this anyway? A few items for me to choose from?"
"Primordium's."
"Be clearer, damn it! Stop with these stupid riddles!"
"Strengths lie before thee to choose. The first is the Primordium of Balance, the power of Exchange and Equilibrium. The second, the Primordium of Mirrors, the power of Reality; and the last is naught but Space itself."
Wanting power, Gavirel's hand shot out to the cube, already wide-eyed, but stopped just before grabbing it. He remembered Seralius and Orien telling him not to choose something that was already taken, and remembered there was already a god of Space.
"Even you're trying to kill me?"
"If thou wert to die, the weight shall lie upon thee, not upon me."
If she had a body, Gavirel would spit at her even if she was right. If his greed overtook him, it would be his fault.
"I shall leave thee to ponder upon thy choice."
He couldn't quite put his hand on the feeling, but he could feel her almost physically walking away. He pushed the cube away and began to look at the other two items, sighing as he did so.
She didn't give vague enough explanations of the other two items for him to be able to choose the stronger one. The only choice he had left was to ponder and choose on instinct—or rather, which one resided with him more.
He began to think about it: what would his life be like if he warped reality to where his father never left, to where his mother was never a whore? But the more he thought about it, the more he realized he didn't want to live a life of lies.
Even still, the power to warp reality, even if it was only in the slightest, was still insanely useful. He shifted his attention to the hourglass, thinking about what "Exchange and Equilibrium" could've meant.
His mind went through hundreds of possibilities, ranging from being able to exchange things of equal value to duality powers. He thought about which one would fit his staff, carefully reconsidering them.
Almost as if his instincts took over him, he grabbed the hourglass, and almost immediately, he was transferred to a white void. He walked aimlessly, looking for any signs of life or existence besides him.
After a few minutes of walking, he found a boy who looked just like him—the same clothes, except his were blue. Gavirel looked down and noticed his own were now red.
He could hear the pale boy crying, running his hand through his unkempt, raven-black hair. Gavirel could only sit there in confusion, wondering if this was what Orien meant by "your ghost."
As he was about to pull out his weapon, the boy turned around, looking at him directly in the eyes. Unlike Gavirel, the sclera of the boy's eyes were black, his iris red, and his pupil yellow.
His crying was worse than Gavirel imagined—snot rolling down from his nose, and his cheeks having a noticeable amount of dried tears. Gavirel put his weapon down for a second before the boy began to speak.
"Brother... Do you think mother, whoever she was, loved us?"