AT THE SAME TIME
MICHAEL
I reached the old roads leading up to Vesta's temple faster than I ever had before, Not running but hurtling. Branches whipped at my arms as I pushed through the overgrowth, boots sliding in dirt and loose stone. I didn't care. I didn't feel a thing except the pounding of my heart and the rising pressure behind my ribs.
When the trees finally broke, I saw it, and my breath left me. Her temple, her sacred place, her heart. Still ruined, still cracked, and still cold, the same broken pillars and the same fallen stones. The same empty hearth, choked with ash and dust. And now that Miach's words were in my head now that I understood… It felt worse. A hundred times worse.
I stumbled forward, knees nearly buckling as I reached the first step. My hands shook as I grabbed the side of a shattered column, the stone crumbling under my grip.
"No, no, no-"I whispered while trembling.
The words tumbled out without thought.
"This is wrong. This is so, gods, this is wrong. Why did I leave it? Why didn't I?"I whispered.
I stood in the middle of the ruins, breath shaking, trying to piece together what could've possibly done this. The broken pillars, the claw marks, the collapsed roof, none of it made sense. Until I heard footsteps behind me. Slow, uneven, old. I turned sharply. An elderly man, wrapped in a faded cloak, leaned heavily on a wooden staff. His hair was white, his eyes tired, but when he looked at the ruined hearth his whole face fell into grief.
"So someone finally came." He murmured.
I swallowed.
"Did you… know her?"I asked.
He nodded, stepping inside beside me with surprising reverence.
"I was one of lady Vesta's last followers."He said. "I am Charlie."
His voice cracked.
"Before all this."He said.
"What happened?" I asked.
He touched a carved pillar, the only one still standing and sighed.
"It wasn't monsters. Wasn't time. Wasn't an accident." His eyes hardened. "It was a God."
My blood ran cold.
"Which one?"I asked.
The old man hesitated, then whispered the name like it was poison.
"Ares. The war god. He destroyed this place during a dispute… a dispute Vesta refused to join."Charlie said.
My stomach dropped. Ares. A God did this? To her? The old man continued, voice trembling.
"She stood her ground, she would not support needless conflict. Ares saw it as an insult. He and his followers burned this temple, shattered the hearth, and left her with nothing."Charlie said.
My hands curled into fists. He looked at me, really looked at me.
"But now…"He contunied.
His eyes drifted to the faint red-gold glow still flickering under my skin.
"It seems someone intends to restore what was lost."He said.
I didn't deny it. I just turned toward the broken hearth and exhaled.
"I'll rebuild it." I said quietly. "Every stone."
The old man bowed, eyes misting.
"Then… perhaps her flame will rise again."He said and nodded.
I stood in the ruins of Vesta's temple, fists clenched, chest tight, unable to breathe. The old man, elder Charlie, he'd called himself, leaned heavily on his cane as he watched me stare at the shattered stone. His face was lined with years, grief, and something older than both.
"Kid." He rasped, voice low and grave. "You're looking at the aftermath of a divine tantrum. Ares didn't just vandalize this place he razed it. Burned the sacred flame, smashed the pillars, took pride in it."
I felt something twist in my chest anger, guilt, sorrow melting together until it burned.
"Then I'll fix it." I said. "Just tell me what I need."
Charlie exhaled, long and tired.
"Normal tools won't cut it." He said. "This is divine architecture. Needs divine grade materials. Which means only one place."
I swallowed.
"The dungeon."I said.
"Floor thirteen and down. You'll want: Ignis Stone - volcanic rock that holds heat, perfect for rebuilding her hearth. Lightroot Vines - they glow with ambient mana and bind pillars better than rope. Heaven's Mortar Dust white powder dropped by Living Statues; mix it with water, and it hardens like celestial concrete. Starpetal Shards - rare blossoms that restore divine resonance to damaged holy sites."He said.
My stomach knotted. That wasn't easy loot. That was party wipe loot.
"Why didn't anyone get these things for her…?" I asked.
Charlie's eyes dimmed with sadness.
"Because she withdrew from the world. Pulled away. Hid her pain behind kindness and cooking. Nobody realized she was hurt. Nobody noticed the goddess who feeds everyone… never feeds herself." Charlie said.
My throat closed. He began hobbling away, but stopped beside me, resting a hand on my shoulder.
'You care." He said simply. "That's already more than the world's given her in centuries."
Then he left me standing in the ruins, alone, hurting and more determined than I had ever been in my life. I didn't wait,didn't think, didn't breathe. I ran. To the half-buried supply shed. I kicked the door open and scavenged everything inside: a half-shattered hammer, frayed rope, dull chisels, a cracked shovel, worn gloves, a lantern missing half the glass. Not much, but enough to start clearing rubble.
Enough to start preparing and enough to fight. I hauled everything back to the temple, dumped it beside the broken pillars, and dropped to my knees. The first thing I did was sweep every stone away from the hearth. The more I cleared, the more the air vibrated with something like life. Like the temple was waking up just a little, because someone finally touched it again.
But every time I slowed, my eyes rose to the empty, broken hearth, her heart and her fire. Left cold and forgotten.
"Not anymore." I murmured as I grabbed another stone and slammed it in place, panting. "I'll fix all of it." "And I'll get the dungeon loot, even if I have to go alone. I won't let you stay broken, I won't let you hurt in silence."
I kept working until my arms felt like molten lava, until sweat blurred my vision. Because this wasn't construction, this was a promise. A vow, stamped into stone, a sworn oath carved out of bruised hands and as I lifted the lantern to inspect my progress, something flickered at the far end of the ruins soft, golden light. A single glowing petal, a rose, faintly shining with divine warmth, half-buried in the rubble.
"What are you…?" I whispered.
I knelt, reached out, and brushed away dust with trembling fingers. The blossom pulsed once, gentle, warm, like it recognized me. Like it approved. I swallowed, lifted it carefully, and held it to my chest and knew exactly who I'd give it to.