"Othello."
Lioraen called.
The being looked down at him.
"It seems little Lioraen knows my name at least."
Lioraen staggered under the pressure.
"You were real."
The Divine in a mortal form laughed, a soft sound whispered.
"This is my domain, Lio. You don't believe I am real even after living here for eighteen years?"
"I have trust issues," Lioraen stated bluntly.
He gritted his teeth and stepped closer. Surprisingly, the energy wasn't so bad to withstand after the first wave.
"So you have been here...even with what happened to my mother."
Othello went still and then shrugged it off.
"She made her choice."
His frown deepened.
"She made...her choice?"
He took another step closer.
"Did you just say she made her choice?!"
The Divine being tilted its head.
"You couldn't even save her when she fought that beast blinded?!"
*Control yourself, Lio*
He took deep breaths.
"What happened to my father? I heard he got torn apart by a wild beast in the forest. Is it true?"
"Your father?" Othello mumbled. "Ha! My closest one. It's the truth."
A thread of sanity snapped in Lioraen's brain. He frowned.
"It's the truth? You let him die like that?"
"A tragedy happened," Othello shrugged.
"A tragedy?" Lioraen almost laughed at how ridiculous it sounded. "He left behind a blind wife and an unborn child."
"Serathiel wasn't always blind." The Divine being began to pick its nails.
Another thread of sanity snapped.
He had known that his mother had been able to see at some point, but he had no idea how and when she lost her sight.
"Wasn't always blind?"
Othello nodded, examined its nails again before speaking.
"She sold her sight to me, in exchange for saving your life."
The last thread of sanity snapped.
Everything went silent. His eye followed the suddenly slow movement of the Divine being picking its nails.
*My life. To save my life?*
His hand trembled.
"Huh?" Othello glanced at him. "What?"
In a sudden rush of anger, Lioraen reached for his sword.
Steel rang as it left the sheath, and he charged without hesitation. Othello's eyes widened, caught off guard. Instinctively, the Divine being stretched out a hand to stop him.
The blade came down in a clean arc.
It sliced across the Divine being's palm.
Othello staggered back.
He stared at the wound, watching fresh blood drip from its palm onto the stone floor.
A sharp urge rose within him, to tear Lioraen apart. Veins stood out along his temple as he ground his teeth, forcing the feeling down.
"What the hell are you doing, child?"
"I'm removing you from existence," Lioraen said, pointing the sword at him, irritation clear in his voice. "Since you're so useless."
He lunged again like a madman, blade flashing toward Othello.
The shrine exploded into motion, stone cracking under his boots as he swung wildly, blade cutting through the air. Othello vanished from the strike in a blur of shadow, reappearing a breath away. Too slow. Lioraen was already there, turning, swinging with an intent to kill.
"Don't incite my wrath, child!" Othello moved feet away from him.
"Tsk!" He tutted, turning around. "You talk such a lot for a Divine one."
Othello frowned. "What?!"
Lioraen attacked again.
Othello dodged with immortal speed, slipping past steel by inches, robes tearing as the sword grazed him. Each miss only drove Lioraen harder. He didn't slow. He didn't think. He just slashed faster.
The altar shattered as Lioraen vaulted over it, slashing upward. Othello twisted midair, barely escaping, blood scattering across the stone floor. His expression shifted, shock giving way to fury.
"You're insane," Othello snarled.
Lioraen answered with another charge.
Steel rang against divine force as Othello finally blocked, the impact blasting wind through the shrine. Symbols on the walls cracked. They both staggered back.
The Divine being narrowed his eyes.
*He's different! Definitely different. He carries the mark of another Divine being... higher than me.*
Lioraen's grip tightened around the sword.
"My mother and father served a pathetic god."
Something inside Othello snapped.
"You damn child!"
The shrine shook as he surged forward in fury. Two daggers formed in his hands. He moved faster than Lioraen's eye could easily follow, blades flashing toward Lioraen's throat.
Lioraen twisted aside, barely missing the strike, and swung back hard. Othello ducked, daggers crossing to catch the sword with a screech that rang through the shrine. Sparks burst from the clash. The god pushed in close, slashing low, then high, forcing Lioraen back step by step.
Lioraen still rushed him, relentless. His sword came down again and again, heavy, wild, driven by rage. Othello blurred out of reach, reappearing at his side, carving the air where Lioraen's ribs had been a moment before.
They collided once more, dagger against steel. The floor cracked beneath their feet. Each strike echoed, filling the shrine with chaos as the Divine being and mortal tore at each other, neither willing to give ground. They were evenly matched, cancelling each other out with devastating force.
Lioraen's anger exploded.
"You're pathetic. Useless."
He surged forward before Othello could recover. Their blades clashed once, sparks bursting. Othello tried to twist away, daggers flashing up to guard, but Lioraen forced through with raw strength and fury.
*This child is getting faster?*
Step by step, Lioraen drove the Divine being back.
Everything in his eye moved slowly. As slowly as a snail.
With a shout, he slammed his weight forward and plunged his sword straight into Othello's stomach. The blade sank deep. The impact knocked the air from the shrine, stone cracking beneath their feet.
Othello froze, eyes wide.
Blood spilled down the sword and dripped to the floor as Lioraen stood there, breathing hard, grip tight, eyes burning with hate.
Othello had never known fear.
Yet now, as the sword sank into him, his body trembled like a leaf in a storm. His knees weakened.
He stared up at Lioraen.
For the first time, he truly looked at the child that grew up in his domain.
Those eyes.
A haze of bursting stars and drifting constellations, he saw an entity behind Lioraen's eyes, vast and crushing, ancient and endless.
Othello's heart lurched.
This was no mere mortal before him.
The Divine being flinched.
Lioraen did not hesitate.
He yanked the sword free.
Othello gasped, stumbling backward as blood spilled from the wound. Before he could recover, Lioraen was already on him. Fingers tangled in Othello's long dark hair, gripping hard, merciless.
"Move," Lioraen said coldly.
He dragged him.
The stone scraped against Othello's skin. Broken tiles cracked beneath Othello's body as he was hauled across the shrine floor. The once-quiet space was now in ruin, pillars chipped, candles crushed, dust rising in choking clouds.
Othello shrieked, the sound raw and desperate. He clawed at the ground, at Lioraen's wrist, struggling uselessly as his body was pulled along like something already discarded.
Out of the shrine they went.
Across the threshold, into the open, trembling as he was dragged farther from the altar he once ruled.
TBC...