The silence after the battle was deafening.
Ash still hung in the air, swirling lazily around the shattered stones of the forgotten shrine. Lyra stood unmoving, her bloodfire spell flickering out slowly from her hands. Raen knelt beside the charred remains of the godmarked child, his expression unreadable.
She had begged for death.
And he had given it.
Not out of mercy—but necessity.
"I saw her soul," Lyra whispered, voice hoarse. "It was... fractured. Like she didn't remember who she was—just the commands etched into her."
Raen didn't respond at first. He reached out, brushing away a strand of scorched hair from the girl's face. "The gods aren't content to kill us anymore," he said. "They rewrite us. They forge us into weapons and send us to die... not even knowing our own names."
Lyra's breath caught.
"You heard it too," she said. "When she touched the monolith—something called her back. A name, but not hers. It wasn't even human."
Raen stood. The wound on his side from the guardian's talon bled slowly, soaking into his coat. But his voice was firm. "It's time I told you what the Demon God showed me."
---
They moved into the inner sanctum of the shrine, past crumbled statues and desecrated murals. The air was thick with whispers—faint traces of divine thoughts still lingering like smoke after a fire.
Raen stopped before a wall marked in circular etchings—runes too ancient to belong to any mortal tongue.
"In this world," he began, "everything is bound by the Laws of Naming. A Name is more than a word—it is an absolute truth. Every being, every blade of grass, every flame or star, has a True Name. And when that name is spoken... it can be unwritten."
Lyra nodded. "That's what the godmarked are, right? Their names have been rewritten."
"No," Raen said. "Their names were burned away. What remains is a husk... filled with a fragment of a divine Name. Like inserting corrupted code into a soul."
She shuddered.
Raen continued, eyes cold. "The Demon God... he didn't just give me strength. He gave me access to the Nomasphere—the realm where Names originate. Every time I kill a god, I don't just take their power. I consume their truth. Their essence."
Lyra stared at him. "Is that what's happening to you? Why you're forgetting who you are?"
A pause.
"Yes."
---
They sat in silence for a time. The candlelight flickered weakly against the rune-lit walls. Outside, the cursed winds howled through the ruins.
Lyra turned to him. "So what's our next step?"
Raen rose, walking toward the back of the chamber, where a sealed doorway stood—its surface etched in deep grooves, like claw marks made by something trying to escape.
"There's a Name buried in the Valley of Thorns," he said. "One of the Seven Dead Names—truths so old they were banished from the Nomasphere itself. It belonged to a god who was erased from all existence."
Lyra's eyes widened. "You want to find a Name that not even the gods remember?"
"If I can devour it," Raen said, "I may be able to break the bindings on my own soul. Stabilize what I've taken."
"Or lose yourself entirely."
He nodded. "It's worth the risk."
---
Power System: The Laws of Naming
As they traveled toward the Valley, Lyra questioned Raen about the deeper nature of Names.
"You said there's a structure," she asked. "A hierarchy?"
"Yes," Raen said. "There are four Tiers of Names."
1. Minor Names – Objects, animals, elements. Easily manipulated by trained Spellweavers. Example: controlling 'Iron', 'Wind', 'Shadow'.
2. Human Names – The True Names of mortals. Dangerous. Forbidden. Used to enslave, erase, or manipulate people directly.
3. Divine Names – The essence of gods. Each god's dominion is bound to their Name: War, Judgment, Fire, Secrets. To devour a Divine Name is to inherit fragments of that dominion—but it comes with madness.
4. Dead Names – Names too powerful or paradoxical for existence. Time. Null. Origin. Even the gods feared them. Most were sealed or erased from history.
Lyra considered that. "So... when you killed that god of judgment, you took his Divine Name?"
"In part," Raen replied. "But every Divine Name has facets. It's like a mirror—shatter it, and I only get fragments. Enough to use. Not enough to control."
"And the cost?"
"I lose pieces of myself. Thoughts. Memories. Sometimes even emotions. The price for wielding divinity... is humanity."
---
Worldbuilding: Nomasphere and the Fractured Realms
As the road stretched onward, Raen spoke of what he had seen beyond the veil.
"The Nomasphere isn't a place," he said. "It's a realm of meaning. A metaphysical plane where everything that is has a Name. When I enter it during the Rite of Consumption, I see not just gods... but the very laws that bind this world."
"Then why hasn't it been destroyed already?" Lyra asked.
"Because the gods wove a system to protect themselves," Raen replied. "The Pantheon built layers into reality: Fractured Realms that siphon power, faith, and fear. Each realm has different physical laws—but one constant: Names rule all."
She blinked. "How many realms are there?"
"Seven," he answered. "Each with a hidden monolith at its heart. Each monolith tied to a Dead Name."
Her breath caught. "And if you devour all seven?"
Raen looked toward the horizon. "Then I become the Unwritten King. The one whose Name cannot be spoken. The one who can erase the Throne itself."
---
As the sun fell and the Valley of Thorns came into view—black earth studded with petrified spines and broken statues of weeping angels—Lyra stepped closer to Raen.
"What happens if you fail?" she asked quietly.
Raen didn't look at her. His voice was low, resolute.
"Then I die forgotten. And the gods win."
---
To be continued...