Chapter 107
The Realms Awaken: Anyek's Call
In the stillness that followed the divine child's birth, the realms far and wide did not sleep—they stirred.
Anyek felt it first in the marrow of his bones. A warmth, then a pressure, then a pull—as if some unseen tide had turned its current toward him, washing away the veil that had hidden his deeper self.
He was no longer merely Errin's son.
He was the brother of the new beginning.
The divine child had not spoken his name aloud, but the cry of his first breath echoed across existence—and in that echo, Anyek's name had been woven into fate's rebirth.
He sat cross-legged beneath the library tree within the Valley's ancestral sanctum. Scrolls floated around him—moving without touch, unraveling as if eager to reveal secrets that had once demanded blood to earn.
The tree's roots throbbed softly with light.
Pages shimmered. Glyphs reshaped.
Knowledge once lost to gods alone now came freely—as if destiny itself had grown tired of hoarding. The moment the divine child was born, the rules changed. Where wisdom once required sacrifice, now it responded to sincerity.
Anyek opened his palm.
In it, a single flame bloomed—clear, cool, and ancient. The Jade Flame Body within him responded not just to power now, but to truth. It had begun its nirvanic cycle.
"You will not be left behind," the voice whispered.
Not his father's. Not his own. But his other self. The self that had once walked the heavens, now stirring, waking.
The Purest Flame Spirit within him coiled and smiled.
Beyond the Valley, in distant corners of the Lesser God Realm, watchers stirred. Oracles screamed. Void-beasts twisted from slumber. War priests consulted ancient bones and found them hollow.
The balance of power had tilted.
But not all rejoiced.
Far in the Crownless Halls of the Abandoned Court, a fractured god shattered his last chain of slumber. He stared into the sky that no longer obeyed his rules and whispered, "The Son has arrived. But the Brother carries the Judgment."
He began to walk. Not to kill.
To challenge.
Back in the Valley, the elders gathered.
The Twelve Councilors bowed not to Errin—but to the flame burning in Anyek's chest.
"This is the path of reclamation," said Martial Uncle Senn. "The inheritance of a lineage thought wiped out."
Another bowed. "We must not delay. The Valley will become a target again."
But Anyek stood. And for the first time, his voice did not ask—it commanded.
"Then let it."
He turned to the sky.
"I will not hide."
And in the Divine Child's cradle of rebirth, a golden thread spun from the cradle toward him—tying brother to brother, flame to light, vessel to sword.
---
Shall we now move to the confrontation Anyek must face in the outside realm as emissaries come seeking the source of the change? Or return to the divine child's journey deeper into the forgotten sectors of the Valley?