The Gilded Essence: The Radiance That Devours
It came without warning—a force of searing light and whispered salvation. Banners gleam beneath the sun, magic crackles with divine fire, and the faithful kneel in awe. To some, it is proof of righteousness, an undeniable power meant to reshape the world. To others, it is a weapon, a tool to be wielded or controlled. But beneath the reverence and ambition, something festers.
The world fractures in its wake. Scholars unravel its mysteries, seeking knowledge that was never meant to be known. Rulers weigh its worth, blind to the dangers they cannot yet name. And in the quiet places, where truth is spoken in hushed voices, a darker realization spreads—this power does not cleanse. It does not heal. It does not grant salvation. It feeds. The question is not what it is, but what it will leave behind when it is done.
"They called it mercy." The words fall flat over the crackle of flame, boots shifting in blood-soaked ash. "Do you believe them?" A pause. A glance toward the rising smoke on the horizon. The silence that follows is answer enough.
The banner still flies, gold against the blackened sky. But those who march behind it are not here to save—they are here to finish what was started.
"It wasn’t us." Her words are hollow, offered more as hope than truth. Fingers brush ash from a blackened doorway. "Then why does it feel like it was?" Her brother doesn’t look up, gaze fixed on the twisted remnants of a once-familiar home.*
The wind picks up, carrying a faint scent of smoke that shouldn't still linger. Neither speaks again. There’s nothing left to say.
"Aha! It blinked again!" She presses the mushroom close, its glow pulsing like a heartbeat. "That’s… probably not good." The light shifts colors, flickering through shades no natural thing should possess. The air warps faintly. The goblin grins with a wide toothy grin. "So… what now? We eat it? Bury it? Name it?"
"You lit the match." The accusation hangs heavy, more bitter than the smoke curling through the ruined hall. "I trusted you." A pause. Then, quieter— "We all did."
Charred banners flutter weakly above, and the fire's glow still dances in shattered glass. Somewhere in the ash, the truth waits. But trust won't survive its return.
Not all that glows is divine—some fires only devour.
