Chapter 13: Not a Mortal?
The words hit him like a blow in the gut.
And for a moment Caelus could only stare at her. The golden hair, the golden eyes, the ethereal presence that seemed completely out of place in the Saintess’s body all matched the character he had once written.
There was only one character he’d ever given a presence like this.
The Goddess.
The realization was impossible. This woman had once existed only as words on a screen, a character whose personality, abilities, and role in the story had all come from his own imagination. Yet she stood before him, looking at him as though she knew something he didn’t.
Caelus’s unease deepened.
He forced his mouth open despite the pressure weighing on his lungs.
"How did you—"
The pressure in the room suddenly changed.
It was instant and absolute. One moment he was struggling to speak, the next he couldn’t breathe at all.
His heart stopped dead in his chest. The silence in his ribcage was worse than any pain.
His lungs locked. His throat closed. He choked, gasping for air that wouldn’t come. Blood poured from his nose, hot and thick, streaming down his face. He felt it drip onto his clothes, onto the floor.
His legs gave out.
He crashed onto one knee, the collision jarring his bones. His vision swam. His fingers clawed at the floor, searching for something to hold onto, but there was nothing.
She’s—
She’s killing me.
The pressure continued. Crushing and suffocating. His thoughts slowed beneath the weight of her presence. The silence in his ribcage was worse than any pain, and his chest burned with every desperate attempt to breathe.
Then—
It stopped.
The pressure vanished. His pulse slammed back into motion, pounding painfully against his ribs. He gasped, sucking in air like a drowning man. His body shuddered, blood continued to drip from his nose.
The Goddess watched in silence.
He wiped the blood from beneath his nose, only to find more staining his fingers. His breathing was still ragged, and his heart continued pounding against his ribs as though it hadn’t yet realized the danger had passed.
Caelus looked at the blood on his hand, then slowly raised his eyes toward the woman standing before him.
"Did you just try to kill me?"
"Yes."
Her answer came without hesitation.
"Unfortunately, it didn’t work."
Caelus let the silence stretch.
"You sound disappointed."
"I am."
He wiped his nose again and grimaced. "Good. At least we’re being honest with each other."
He searched her face for some sign she was joking. His mind raced. His heart was still pounding. His body was still shaking. But he forced himself to think.
"Why?"
He wiped more blood from his nose. His hand came away crimson again. It wouldn’t stop.
"Why would you even try to kill me?"
His voice was rough from the pressure that had nearly crushed his lungs, but his eyes remained fixed on hers.
"Aren’t you supposed to be a goddess? If you can do something like that, why not simply finish the job?"
Her expression immediately soured.
"Do not call me a goddess."
Caelus raised an eyebrow. "You are one."
"That isn’t the point."
"Then what is the point?"
She looked at him as though the question itself were irritating.
"A mortal should never be able to understand—"
She stopped.
Something changed in her expression.
Her golden eyes narrowed as she examined him again, this time with considerably more attention.
"...Wait."
Caelus frowned. "What?"
She stared at him for several seconds before letting out a quiet groan.
"You’re not a mortal."
Caelus frowned, unable to decide whether he had heard her correctly.
"What do you mean by that?"
The Goddess didn’t answer.
That was answer enough to irritate him.
"You’re going to make me figure this out myself, aren’t you?"
"Perhaps."
Caelus exhaled through his nose.
"I already dislike you."
She didn’t react. Instead, she studied him with an intensity that made him instinctively uncomfortable. It wasn’t the way someone looked at another person. It was closer to the way a scholar might examine something that had just contradicted everything they knew.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"I’m trying to understand what I’m seeing."
"That’s not ominous at all."
She ignored the remark.
"Tell me, Larkael. What is your earliest memory?"
His gaze sharpened.
She didn’t elaborate.
Your first day of school," she said. "Who sat beside you?"
"I remember the day."
"That wasn’t my question."
Caelus opened his mouth, then stopped.
He could remember the classroom. He could remember the teacher standing at the front. He could even remember the nervous feeling in his stomach.
But the person sitting beside him?
Nothing.
"I don’t remember."
The Goddess’s expression didn’t change.
"Yet you remember the day."
"Apparently."
"What about your sister?"
Caelus’s expression tightened immediately.
"What about her?"
"Her favorite color."
"Red."
"How do you know?"
"She told me."
"When?"
Caelus went silent.
He looked for an answer and he had none.
Caelus’s expression hardened.
"You’re trying to confuse me."
"Am I?"
"You just tried to kill me, failed, told me I’m not a mortal, and now you’re asking questions about memories I apparently can’t explain. Forgive me if I’m not inclined to trust you."
The Goddess regarded him quietly.
"Good."
Caelus frowned.
"Good?"
"You shouldn’t trust me."
She paused before adding, "But you shouldn’t trust yourself blindly either."
Caelus’s expression remained guarded, but the remark had unsettled him more than he wanted to admit.
The Goddess seemed to notice.
"There is one memory you should examine carefully."
"Which one?"
"Your death."
His expression changed.
"What about it?"
"Your sister."
Caelus stared at her.
"She pushed me into traffic."
"I know."
"Then what exactly am I supposed to examine?"
The Goddess’s gaze remained fixed on him.
"Why did she choose that method?"
"She pushed me into traffic. I’m fairly certain the intention was obvious."
"Was it?"
Caelus frowned.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing."
"You don’t get to say something like that and then call it nothing."
For the first time, something almost resembling amusement appeared in her expression.
"Then remember the event carefully."
"I already do."
"Do you?"
The question stayed with him.
The Goddess’s expression gradually lost what little amusement it had shown.
"There is another problem."
Caelus immediately disliked the sound of that.
"Naturally."
"Your continued existence has already attracted attention."
She paused.
"It won’t remain unnoticed forever."
"That’s helpful."
"It wasn’t meant to be."
She looked toward the Saintess’s unconscious body before continuing.
"I cannot freely interfere with the mortal world. This vessel limits what I can do, and even what I have already attempted has pushed it close to its limit."
Caelus glanced toward the Saintess.
"So that’s the problem."
His eyes returned to her.
"You can reach this world, but you can’t freely act in it."
"Correct."
"And trying to kill me pushed the vessel closer to its limit."
"Not freely."
"But someone else can?"
"Eventually."
"Then what exactly do you expect me to do?"
The Goddess looked at him for several seconds.
"Die."
He stared at her.
"You really have a strange way of helping people."
Her voice remained calm.
"If you die now, there is a chance they will lose interest. If you continue living, more will eventually notice you, and they may not be as restricted as I am."
Caelus wiped the last traces of blood from his nose.
"So your solution is for me to kill myself before someone else gets the opportunity."
"Yes."
"No."
He pushed himself fully upright despite the tremor still running through his legs.
"I’ve already tried dying once. It didn’t solve much."
He met her golden eyes.
"I’m not doing it again just because someone decided my death would be convenient."
"Why are you telling me all this?"
The Goddess looked at him for a long moment.
"Because sooner or later, you’ll discover the answer yourself."
"The answer to what?"
She didn’t answer.
Caelus’s irritation grew.
"You seem to enjoy doing that."
"Doing what?"
"Giving half an answer and expecting me to be grateful for it."
"Sooner or later, you’ll remember."
The golden light around her flickered.
She glanced down at the Saintess’s body, and for the first time Caelus noticed how strained her expression had become.
"This vessel won’t hold me much longer."
Her voice had lost some of its earlier certainty.
"Whatever you do, remember what I told you."
Caelus frowned.
She ignored him.
"Question your memories."
Her golden eyes settled on him one final time.
"And question your sister."
The room returned to normal.
The pressure vanished completely, leaving only the ordinary sounds of the guest room. The clock continued ticking. Mana flowed through the chamber. Somewhere outside, a servant was probably moving through the corridor, completely unaware of what had just happened.
For several seconds, neither of them moved.
Then the Saintess stirred.
Her fingers twitched before her shoulders moved. She drew in a shaky breath and slowly opened her eyes.
The first thing she saw was the floor beneath her. Then the blood.
Her hands flew to her face, trying to stop the blood streaming from her nose and eye.
Her brow furrowed as she tried to remember what had happened.
"What...?"
Caelus didn’t notice.
Caelus remained where he was, his body was still shaking.
He ignored it.
His thoughts had returned to his sister.
He remembered the car.
The horn.
The moment he realized what was happening.
The impact. His death.
He remembered all of it.
At least, he thought he did.
When he tried to examine the memory more carefully, however, he found something he couldn’t put into words. Nothing seemed obviously missing. There was no convenient gap he could point toward and say, There. That’s the lie.
Everything was where it should have been.
Yet the memory felt strangely distant, almost like something he had learned rather than something he had lived.
Caelus frowned.
He had no evidence.
Only a feeling he couldn’t shake.
And that bothered him more than the Goddess’s threats.
Because if his memories were wrong, then the problem wasn’t simply that someone was trying to kill him.
The problem was that it made him question whether the person being targeted was even the person he thought he was.
His sister’s face surfaced in his mind.
For the first time, it frightened him.
What exactly was he?