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The journey from Obsidian Hollow was quiet.
Chirag walked ahead, the flame in his palm glowing steady but soft. The silence Vael had given him still lingered in his chest—not heavy, but comforting. Like a hidden strength that didn't need to scream to be known.
Siya and Kuro followed closely behind, both watching him with silent respect.
After a while, Kuro broke the silence. "So, what's next? Which god are we hunting now?"
Chirag looked up at the sky. "The scroll says the next forgotten god lives on the highest peak of the eastern skylands. A place where thunder never stops and storms never rest."
Kuro let out a long breath. "Sounds... inviting."
"It's called Thunderal Spire," Siya added. "The god of storms was once a protector of balance. But after he was betrayed by the divine council, he sealed himself away in the heart of a never-ending storm."
"Great," Kuro muttered. "So now we walk into lightning?"
Chirag glanced at him with a small smile. "We don't walk. We fly."
---
By dusk, the trio stood on the edge of the Skylands—a land of floating mountains suspended in the air, held up by ancient winds and forgotten magic. Below them was endless mist. Above them, swirling black clouds rolled and cracked with thunder.
The path to Thunderal Spire wasn't a road, but a series of floating stones and bridges, some breaking apart and forming again as if alive. It was more like a test than a trail.
As they prepared to leap across the first floating platform, Siya stepped beside Chirag and held his hand.
"I'll go wherever you go," she said.
Chirag nodded. "And I'll protect you at any cost."
They jumped.
---
The storm welcomed them with fury.
Winds roared in their ears. Rain fell like knives. Lightning flashed so often that it was hard to tell night from day. The higher they climbed, the more it felt like the mountain was fighting them—pushing them back, testing their will.
Kuro had to use his shadow magic to anchor them to the floating rocks. Siya used her demon energy to shield them from gusts that could have thrown them into the endless sky.
Chirag walked forward without flinching. The flame inside him didn't burn brighter—it burned deeper.
Finally, after hours of battling wind and storm, they reached the peak.
There, at the top of the spire, was a throne carved from thunderclouds and stone. Lightning coiled around it like living snakes. And seated on that throne was a figure as massive as a mountain—his eyes glowing like twin storms.
His voice rolled across the mountaintop like thunder itself.
"You come seeking power."
Chirag stood tall. "I come seeking truth. Guidance. Strength."
The god of storms leaned forward. His face was carved with age and sorrow, his arms marked with the scars of ancient battles. "And what do you offer in return, flame-born boy?"
"My promise," Chirag said. "That I won't use your gift for war, unless it's to protect the innocent. I want to end the gods' control—not become like them."
There was a long silence. Then the god rose from his throne, and the sky darkened further.
"Then prove yourself," he said. "Survive me."
The storm exploded.
---
Lightning struck the ground where Chirag stood. He rolled aside, flames leaping from his hands to block another bolt. Rain blinded him, wind screamed in his ears, but he didn't stop.
Siya and Kuro tried to help, but the storm pushed them back—this was a trial only Chirag could face.
"Focus," Chirag told himself, standing tall. "Remember Vael's silence."
The calm inside him grew stronger. The chaos outside could not touch the stillness within. He raised his hand, fire gathering—not wild flames, but steady heat, controlled and sharp.
He didn't fight the storm. He became part of it.
When the next bolt came, he caught it.
And held it.
The fire and lightning danced together in his palm. Not enemies—but allies.
The storm paused.
The god of storms stepped forward. His voice was now calm thunder.
"You listened."
"I did," Chirag said, panting. "I didn't fight to destroy. I fought to understand."
The god smiled. "Then take my gift. May the storms bow to your will—and rise when you rise."
A pulse of energy struck Chirag's chest. His veins lit up with silver lightning, blending with the deep orange of his flame. His body crackled with power, but it did not harm him.
He was now part fire, part storm.
The god stepped back. "Only one remains. The last forgotten god."
"Who is it?" Chirag asked.
The god looked toward the stars. "The one who never wanted to be found. The god of memory."
---
As they descended the spire, Chirag's body felt different. Lighter. Stronger. The silence from Vael still lingered in his mind, but now it shared space with the roar of the storm.
Siya looked at him with awe. "You changed again."
"So did the sky," Kuro said, glancing upward. The clouds above had begun to part, for the first time in centuries.
"Maybe the world is finally listening," Chirag said.
They stood together on the edge of the mountain, staring into the distance where the final path awaited.
The forgotten gods had given him their gifts.
Now, the gods who ruled the heavens would feel the weight of the one they tried to cast aside.
And the world would remember the name Chirag.
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