The God of Nothing.-Chapter 2: Nothing

Passing the awaiting nobles and shrugging off their looks of disdain, Caelith ascended the steep stone steps and reached the temple.

"Hold this totem, and all will be revealed," said one of the priests in a cryptic voice.

Hesitating, Caelith replied.

"Alright..."

Caelith placed his hands on the totem, feeling its warmth.

He closed his eyes.

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Waiting for a few seconds, nothing happened.

"Come on... light up!" Caelith thought in desperation.

Suddenly, his vision went black - which didn't make sense as his eyes were closed. No, this was a different type of darkness encroaching on his mind. An eerie feeling washed over Caelith as he felt the space around him. Nothing. This wasn't the Gods simply ignoring him. No, instead,

they were... rejecting him? Caelith refused to believe it.

As the thought entered his mind, Caelith felt a tactile spark at his fingertips and was propelled backward with a ferocious force. He collided with the temple floor, tumbling back several feet before he finally stopped, a cloud of dust rising around him on the temple floor.

Gritting his teeth, he tasted the metallic taste of blood, his heart racing as he tried to regain footing.

The totem remained cold and dark, showing no signs of the flame or divinity he desperately hoped for.

Sweat ran down his forehead.

"Why can't a fucking god just bless me already?"

"I knew you were a waste of time, not just the Fire God, but it seems all the Gods were so displeased with you they went out of their way to send you away." muttered one of the priests, arms folded.

"Now go and fuck off, you good-for-nothing bastard," sneered the priest.

Caelith, in shock, realized that the same people who preached faith, order, and divinity were just as corrupt and cruel as the nobles.

Caelith exited the temple and began to walk down the steps. He could see the crowd of nobles and his mother - who had been escorted to the courtyard while Caelith was undergoing his trial - standing anxiously beside the stairs, still dressed in her cleaning clothes.

"Caelith, how did it go?" his mother asked, her voice laced with hope.

"I failed," Caelith whispered, looking down, trying to hold back tears.

Suddenly, his mother pulled him closer, embracing him. She whispered into his ear,

"It's alright. I know you tried your best, Caelith."

"Thanks, Mum. I promise I'll get stronger somehow," Caelith expressed, his voice shaky and regretful.

"I assume he failed," Alaric asserted, his voice cold and unimpressed.

Caelith, still looking down, too anxious to meet his father's gaze, hesitated before responding.

"Yes, sir. I tried my best; however, I was not blessed," he stated respectfully.

Alaric scoffed, his lips curling into a smirk.

"No one expected much from the son of a whore."

He turned and walked away, eager to ridicule Caelith's situation among the other nobles.

To add salt to the wound, his half-siblings approached him as if his day couldn't get any worse.

"I mean... did anyone expect anything else?" Vaerin sneered, shaking his head.

"Honestly, this was a waste of time," he added.

"You could've spared everyone the embarrassment and stayed in the stables where you belong."

Selphira sighed dramatically, placing a delicate hand over her chest, her golden eyes gleaming with fake pity.

"Oh, poor little Caelith," she cooed. "I almost feel bad. You actually thought the Gods would look at you?"

Her voice dripped with mock sweetness, but the smirk on her lips betrayed her apparent worry.

"Maybe you should've prayed harder," she continued. "Or maybe you should've gotten on your knees beforehand—you seem good at that."

The nobles eavesdropping snickered.

Caelith clenched his fists, but he knew he couldn't react. Thinking to himself, 'The Gods did look at me, you arrogant bastards!' It wouldn't just be him who faced the consequences—his mother would suffer as well. Not able to bear the consequences, he remained silent.

Vaerin let out an exaggerated gasp, nudging Selphira. "Oh, wait! I think I figured it out!"

He turned back to the nobles, raising his voice so the entire courtyard could hear.

"It's because he's a bastard!" Vaerin declared, grinning. "The Gods saw that filth in his blood and rejected him outright!"

The laughter intensified, echoing through the temple grounds.

Caelith bit his tongue. He would not give them the satisfaction of a reaction.

A few hours had passed, and Caelith still recalled the memories of darkness while he lay in bed, feeling vast yet narrow, potent yet dilute but extremely focused Rejection.

His void-like eyes lingered on his fingertips, questioning, but only for a second.

Forcing himself out of bed, he headed for the Library.

But it seemed that the Gods' hatred for him went even further.

As soon as he left, he saw two guards approaching his lodgings at the far reaches of the estate. They noticed him and announced.

"The Lord is summoning you to come immediately."

Confused, Caelith followed the guards to the Lord's chambers. They were far from his lodgings, which were next to the Stormont dump. Instead, the Lord's chambers were at the highest point in the Stormont House, overlooking its territory.

Again, the guards made a point of not dirtying their eyes with his likeness.

As Caelith entered the chambers, he saw his father sitting on his large lacquered chair.

His chambers were filled with books detailing the Stormont history; and most likely battle techniques reserved for the main lineage.

"Kneel."

The word came from his father, cold and absolute, commanding the authority of the world as the Gods judged who was worthy—and who was nothing.

Caelith felt compelled to kneel.

"From now on, you will be trained by the guards and work with them to serve your siblings in any way possible whilst they prepare for the academy exams. You can at least make yourself useful because you're an utter failure, not destined for anything."

He paused, Looking directly into Caelith's soul.

"Do you understand me?"

Caelith lingered... He inexplicably recalled the scene from the temple, the indignation he had felt towards the Gods, and the stern Rejection he had received. He had prayed and laid out his entire soul in fealty for the Gods and was rewarded with Rejection. In a moment of carelessness, perhaps pent-up spite, or maybe even influenced by the Rejection he had felt, Caelith's mouth quivered.

"No, I refuse!"

For the next few moments, a palpable silence permeated the air.