Having spent day in and day out with the Flame, Kieran had become a self-proclaimed master of the Flame’s conduct. Perhaps he didn’t know its every thought, the motive behind its actions, or its end goal… but he did know the Flame’s aura and personality.

Though the inherent qualities were there, they seemed overshadowed by more prevalent character traits.

The Flame’s depravity vanished in place of dignity, offering a heavy presence that made it somewhat hard to breathe, like immaterial boulders were pressing against everyone’s chest.

And what he sensed from the Flame now… it was all terribly wrong in his opinion. The Flame had always been the epitome of iniquity, malignancy, and heartlessness, able to make ungodly amounts of sacrifices without batting an eye or losing sleep.

Both of which Kieran assumed the Flame didn’t do. One, the horrific entity lacked eyelids to blink; two, the Flame always felt active in his Realm, even when dormant. That led Kieran to believe it did not need sleep.

Whereas the Flame Kieran was used to was the exemplar of profanity, this iteration of the Flame felt… well, normal. An odd kind of normal.

‘Too… normal. Like, suspiciously so.’

Almost as if the Flame was attempting to impersonate something else. Did the Flame have that capability, though? Could it mimic others? And if it could mimic abilities or even just the disposition and aura, its threat level had just shot off the original charts.

However, Kieran was also curious. What would the Flame waste time impersonating? As he thought about it, only one answer came to mind — another God.

The assumption tracked in Kieran’s mind, especially after learning of Adeia’s character. Like the Cardinal, she was highly devoted to her cause.

So devoted, her faith teetered on the verge of fanaticism. Whereas the Order of War and Flame had the Flame as their irreverent deity, the Followers of War had… well, they had the Endless of War.

Which, even now, Kieran still knew nothing about. Who supported the Followers of War?

With that question in mind, Kieran gingerly approached the entranced Adeia, but the Sacred Inheritor grabbed his wrist with an aghast grimace.

“W… what do you think you’re doing? Don’t you feel that? All that deathly maliciousness? Don’t go there. It’s not safe… it really isn’t.”

Kieran stared at the Sacred Inheritor silently, studying the trepidation in her eyes. What she was feeling was the Flame’s raw power and ability to manipulate emotions. It was enough to suffocate those of the firmest Will.

However, Kieran was somewhat accustomed to that pressure.

As a matter of fact, much of those emotions flowed through him, permeating his Realm and saturating his thoughts with resentments. The grievances of the dead were a powerful, almost inexhaustible source. But it was also a curse to bear, alluding to Kieran’s current sobriquet.

‘I don’t know what they’re doing. But I have to stop it before it’s too late. And to stop it, I’m going to need your help.’

The Sacred Inheritor paled further, her expression growing sickly. She stood petrified, shaking her head repeatedly.

“Please don’t make me do it. I don’t want to feel all of that hate. Those emotions… they’re so disgusting and vile.”

Kieran couldn’t help but grimace as he listened to the Sacred Inheritor plead.

Her character may not be as strong as he gave her credit for. The crass facade likely hid a delicate interior, which was understandable, but that also tickled a part of Kieran’s mind.

He had many doubts about each Inheritor, understandably so, given his limited and undesirable experiences with the few he knew.

Of the Inheritors, the Sacred and Roaring Inheritors were tolerable, the latter of a more mature mindset, and the Altair was his trusted confidant. They had exposed their weaknesses — the infirmities of their character — to one another and, in doing so, fostered a bond more tempered than the rest.

Discounting the insufferable Daedric, Kieran couldn’t judge the rest. He didn’t have enough encounters with them to form a coherent opinion.

That said, Kieran now called into question the core of everyone’s character. What if the Old Myths could see deeper into them than they could recognize personally? It wasn’t inconceivable.

Then, there was the matter of the Zenith Frequency and its mention of records stored in the Annals of the Zenith Athenaeum. Their feats, attainments, and much more would be kept somewhere Kieran had no recollection of.

What if the Old Myths could peer into that to estimate their potential Successor? To allow them to Inherit was a small test to prepare them for the consummate Succession.

And seeing as none of the Inheritors had been stripped in the days leading up to the Trial… their characters passed the requirements. Then, what was everyone’s true character like? Not the images shown to the world… but how they acted behind closed doors and alone.

‘Is that what was meant by everything would be laid bare?’

Truth always came to light in the end, for darkness could not be everlasting.

As curious as this all was, Kieran couldn’t spend this entire time contemplating the integrity of each Inheritor. He needed the Sacred Inheritor’s help.

He needed to break the Flame’s hold over Adeia somehow. All while the possibility of it all still eluded his understanding. Why could the Flame speak to and manifest before Adeia? And why did it assume this particular course of action would affect Kieran the greatest?

The only way for that to be true was if the Flame could peer into his thoughts and emotions without alerting Kieran. Not only did that thought horrify Kieran, but it felt too plausible.

He had let the Flame in deeper than he realized. But when had that happened?

Shaking his head, Kieran pushed those thoughts aside and held the Sacred Inheritor’s hand.

‘Is there a way to connect me to them without exposing yourself to those emotions?’

The Sacred Inheritor thought hard, her eyes darting back and forth while she rummaged for an answer.

Eventually, she gave a wan smile.

“I don’t… I don’t know. I’ve never done that before. I’ve always been the bridge. And that’s a two-way principle.”

Kieran clicked his tongue, growing mentally restless.

What could he do? He scoured his mind for answers until, finally, he posed an idea. .𝙘𝒐𝒎

‘What if we never let go of each other? If I act as a barrier against the emotions you should feel?’

The Sacred Inheritor looked at him, eyes wide with belief.

“Are you crazy? Do you know what you’re saying right now? You’re volunteering yourself to resist twofold of those vile emotions. My power doesn’t spread pieces of feelings across a wide variety… everyone feels the same depth of emotions.”

Though Kieran appreciated the transparency, it did little to deter him.

‘That’s fine. Do it.’

Slack-jawed, the Sacred Inheritor looked between the spate of carmine energy spewing from the monoliths in short bursts to Kieran before gnashing her teeth and listening.

“Okay! Just don’t hate me!”

In the next moment, Kieran felt a tremendous rush of resentments followed by an infernal, scorching heat and a fragile Will, gradually being defiled.

Just then, he reached out while pulling the Sacred Inheritor’s presence behind him.

“Adeia! Adeia!”

The defiled Will jolted, and the Flame’s preposterous presence bore down on him immediately.

“My defiant child, you have come to act as the audience you have always been destined to be. You were foolish to think you were the only tool cultivated in my grand scheme. Now, watch the error of your ways. Destruction is coming.”