MY NAMES THEDA

Kintu helped the mysterious woman stand back up, her legs trembling as she regained her footing. With a graceful motion, she clapped her hands, and the dark, ominous room transformed into a serene, all-white space. A golden couch appeared in the center, and the woman, now exuding an air of calm authority, motioned for Kintu to sit. As she did, a black aura enveloped her, repairing the rips and tears in her silk dress, restoring her to an even more regal appearance.

"Sit," the woman instructed, her voice gentle yet firm. Kintu obeyed, feeling a strange mix of curiosity and caution. As he settled onto the couch, he could not hold back his questions any longer. "Miss, where am I? And who are you?"

She offered a small, enigmatic smile. "Ah, yes. Where are my manners? You are inside yourself, Kintu. This is a special place where gods can come to speak directly with humans."

Kintu frowned; confusion etched on his face. "But why were you tied up and gagged?"

The woman sighed, her expression darkening slightly. "Oh, that. My older siblings did that—bound me and locked me away inside that Ring of Life. Then they hid me, hoping I would be forgotten. Until, that is, your grandfather stumbled upon the ring in a treasure chest he had stolen. Can you believe it? He kept it, thinking it was just a trinket, and gave it to your grandmother as an engagement ring, never knowing it was a relic." She chuckled softly, the sound filled with both amusement and bitterness. "He went off to fight in the relic wars and never came back. But before he left, he took his shoelace and strung the ring through it."

Kintu interrupted, a hint of impatience in his voice. "I know this story."

"Good," she said, her tone turning more serious. "So, we can talk."

She looked directly at him, her brown eyes shimmering with a depth of knowledge and power. "My name is Theda, and you, Kintu, are using my relics. I've been trying to speak with you for a long time."

Kintu asked, "What prevented it?"

Theda sighed, looking thoughtful. "I don't know," she admitted. "But the Akan Boost you did, fighting both the dragons and the boar bulls, cracked through the barriers, allowing me to pull you in."

Kintu leaned forward, curiosity sparking in his eyes. "What do you know about Kiaoranock?" she asked.

 "That it means the end." Kintu replied, echoing what he had learned as a kid.

"Wrong," Theda corrected, her voice firm yet tinged with a hint of sadness.

"You see, Kintu, my mother, the Divine Being, created me as the end of life. Before I existed, life did not truly end—it just decayed away, lingering in a state of perpetual suffering. My mother saw this as cruel, but she could not figure out how to remedy it. So, she created Requiem, and with Requiem came death—and with death, came me."

Theda's expression softened as she continued, her tone somber. "But I brought about a problem. Because I exist, all things can now die. And, Kintu, people die in many ways, often painfully. It is not a good feeling, but I exist because my mother, in her great wisdom, settled on one conclusion: ending a life quickly is better than watching them suffer."

She paused, her eyes meeting Kintu's with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine. "But with death came rules to govern it."

Theda held up her fingers as she recited the rules. "One: All things must die. Two: No one is more valuable—everyone is equal. Three: My mother cannot prevent a death, nor can she cause one."

"My siblings," she continued, "hated this idea. For the first time ever, they would be treated equally as mortals. They were enraged. So, my mother created relics to bridge the gap between humans and gods, hoping that through these shared bonds, the gods could learn a little humanity."

Theda's expression darkened. "But my siblings—the other gods—hated this idea, especially my oldest brother, Athenus. He despises humanity. He convinced the other gods to rebel, and through that rebellion, they sealed my mother away. You see, my mother's name is Ka'oir, and by gathering all five of my relics, she will be unsealed, and her will shall be done."

Kintu's heart pounded as Theda revealed the weight of the situation. "Meaning the three rules will activate," she continued, "and for the first time in history, gods will be vulnerable—able to be killed."

Theda's voice grew softer, almost pleading. "Kintu, upon unlocking my avatar state, you will not just become my avatar but a God Slayer. Any god in an avatar state will be vulnerable to permanent deletion."

She stood up, her presence commanding. "Kintu," she asked, her voice filled with a mix of hope and determination, "will you help me free my mother and finally put an end to those gods who choose to harm mankind rather than defend it?"

Kintu sat in silence, the enormity of the decision weighing heavily on him. The room was thick with tension, and for a long moment, he could not speak.

Finally, he found his voice. "And what do I get if I do?" he asked, his tone cautious.

Theda smiled, a glint of mischief in her eyes. "You get one wish."

Before Kintu could reply, Theda gently interrupted him. "It's a lot to take in; I understand," she said softly, her gaze warm and understanding. "Just think about it. This is not a decision to be made lightly."

Kintu nodded, his mind still swirling with the weight of everything she had revealed.

Theda continued, "Our time is up here, but our next meeting will last longer. I will be able to tell you more about the quest ahead, about the challenges you will face, and about what it truly means to be a God Slayer."

She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, her touch light yet reassuring. "Until then, rest and gather your strength. You will need it."

Before Kintu could say anything else, the world around him began to fade, the white room and golden couch dissolving into nothingness. The last thing he saw was Theda's serene smile, lingering in the darkness as everything went black.

As the darkness faded, Kintu found himself waking up in his bed, his body still aching from the strain of the Akan Boost. Standing beside him was Lokus in his Thorne form, his massive figure looming over the room like a protective sentinel.

"I thought that might happen," Thorne said with a knowing smile, his voice deep and resonant. "The Akan Boost takes a lot out of you, so I let you sleep." He pulled out a wooden chair from the corner of the room and sat down heavily. "But now, Kintu, my boy, it is time to get moving. I have been called up to the capitol to meet with the dwarven Queen, so our training needs to speed up."

Kintu sat up, rubbing his eyes. "A tournament?"

"Yes," Thorne confirmed, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Today, we will skip the second half of our usual training and instead focus on upgrading your relics. You will need every advantage you can get."

Kintu nodded and swung his legs over the side of the bed, getting to his feet. Thorne led him out of the room, and within moments, they found themselves in a blacksmith's workshop. The air was thick with the smell of burning coal and hot metal, and the walls were lined with tools and weapons of all shapes and sizes.

"My old friend," Thorne called out, his voice booming through the workshop. "We're here for some work."

An elderly dwarven man, clad in a black apron with just a thick mustache and tied-back hair, lifted his head from the piece he was working on. He adjusted his goggles, revealing sharp, intelligent eyes that sparkled with recognition.

"Is that you, Thorne? And sober for once?" the dwarf teased with a toothy grin.

"Yes, it's me, Deon Coreblood, you old madman," Thorne replied with a hearty laugh. "I need something special, and you are the only person I trust with this type of work. We need to do some relic upgrading."

The dwarf's expression changed instantly, becoming more serious and focused. "Oh, let me see, let me see," he said eagerly, his hands already twitching to examine the relics. It was as if he had transformed into a kid in a candy store.

Thorne turned to Kintu. "Give the old man two of your relics, along with the two frost cores and the magma core."

Kintu nodded and handed over the Chains of the Bound Soul and the Staff of Reaping, along with the elemental cores. As Deon took the relics, his eyes widened in shock. He fainted as he ran his fingers over the artifacts.

"I never thought I'd see these ever again," Deon whispered in awe. His gaze shifted to Kintu's neck. "And around your neck, boy—is that the Ring of Life?"

Kintu nodded, and Deon looked as though he was about to pass out from sheer excitement. "I'll save that one for last."

Kintu could not help but ask, "Why only two upgrades at a time, Thorne?"

Thorne chuckled, his deep voice echoing through the workshop. "We dwarves invented the art of relic upgrading, but we know better than to let greed blind us. Balance is key. Your body needs to be able to manage the power, Kintu. We are only upgrading the power output of your relics by two levels. Anymore, and it would overwhelm you."

Kintu's curiosity was piqued. "So, what's the maximum level?"

Thorne laughed heartily, shaking his head. "No one has ever used the max. But if you are curious, it is ten. Any more than that, and the power becomes too great, breaking the relic and making it unusable."

"Done," Deon said suddenly, breaking the tension. He handed the upgraded relics back to Kintu with a satisfied nod. "These have been upgraded."

Kintu took the relics, feeling the increased power humming within them. He then reluctantly handed over the Ring of Life.

Deon's eyes widened again as he carefully inspected the ring. "This is a special piece. My great-grandfather told my grandfather that when he saw his grandfather create this, it nearly killed him. It is said to be the most valuable of all the relics."

As Deon began his work on the ring, the entire workshop seemed to shake with each hammer strike and drill spin. The ground trembled as if the very continent itself was reacting to the power being channeled into the ring.

Finally, Deon finished and handed the ring back to Kintu. "Whoever did the first core put it in crooked," he grumbled. "Reminds me of my cousin Thrain Ironhands' work—such a greedy boy. That will be ten Platinum plates."

Kintu's jaw dropped at the price, but he quickly recovered and handed over the plates from his inventory.

"Alright, Kintu," Thorne said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "Time for a change. I need to go to the capital—Jinks Town. But during our journey, we will encounter many monsters. You cannot use your relics."

Kintu nodded, understanding the challenge ahead. Training must continue.

They gathered their gear and started the long journey to Jinks Town, the path ahead filled with danger, mystery, and the promise of even greater power.

The path they followed had slowly morphed from a well-trodden road into a narrow, twisted trail, as if the forest itself was pulling them in. Towering trees loomed overhead, their branches stretching out like twisted, skeletal fingers eager to snatch any who dared enter. A thick, almost unnatural fog clung to the ground, swirling in lazy spirals around their feet. The sunlight that had bathed their journey so far was now all but gone, replaced by a sickly green glow filtering through the dense canopy above.

"This is the Forest of Isim," Lokus said, his voice low and gruff, breaking the eerie silence that had settled between them. "Most travelers avoid it, and for good reason. It is cursed—those who enter often do not return."

Kintu investigated the shadowy depths of the forest, feeling a chill run down his spine. "Then why are we going through it?" he asked, his voice betraying the unease he tried to suppress.

Lokus, his deep-set eyes scanning the tree line, replied, "Because it is the fastest way to, and time is not on our side. But be warned, Kintu, this place will evaluate us in ways we are not prepared for."

The moment they stepped inside, the world changed around them. The oppressive fog thickened, rising from the ground like a living thing, winding itself around Kintu's ankles and crawling up his legs. The trees groaned as if they were in pain, their branches twisting and bending with a life of their own. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves, and every breath Kintu took felt labored, as if the forest itself was trying to suffocate him.

Kintu instinctively reached for his relics, but something felt off. His connection to them was weak, as though the forest was muting their power. Panic flickered at the edges of his mind, but he forced it down. This was not the time to lose control.

Lokus, however, seemed unfazed, though his brow was furrowed in concentration. "This forest," he muttered, "it messes with your senses. It is trying to separate you from your power, but it is different for me. The dwarves have old blood, and we have faced such curses before."

They pushed forward, each step feeling heavier than the last. The once steady path was now a maze of roots and twisted vines, and the deeper they went, the more distorted the forest became. The trees seemed to lean in closer, their bark resembling twisted, tormented faces frozen in silent screams. The fog thickened until visibility was reduced to mere feet in front of them. Shadows danced at the edge of their vision, vanishing whenever Kintu tried to focus on them.

Suddenly, without warning, a shrill cry pierced the silence. Dark shapes erupted from the fog, moving with unnatural speed. Kintu barely had time to react as the dark dryads descended upon them. These creatures were once protectors of the forest, but now they were twisted, corrupted by the curse that had taken hold of Isim. Their skin was bark-like, their eyes hollow and filled with an insatiable hunger. They moved with an eerie grace, their limbs elongated and clawed, reaching out to drain the life force from their prey.

Kintu tried to activate his Akan Boost, but it felt sluggish, like trying to move through thick mud. He slashed at the creatures with all the strength he could muster, but each strike felt weaker than the last. The dark dryads hissed and recoiled, but they kept coming, relentless in their assault.

"Stay close to me!" Lokus shouted, pulling out a small pouch from his belt. He began scattering its contents—a fine, shimmering dust—around them, forming a protective circle. The dryads screeched in anger as they collided with the invisible barrier created by the dwarven runes.

"These runes will keep them at bay for now," Lokus said, his voice strained. "But we need to move quickly. The forest is not itself, and we are running out of time."

They pressed on, the dryads clawing and snarling just beyond the protective circle. The deeper they went, the more the forest seemed to close in around them. The air grew colder, and the fog turned from gray to black, swirling in ominous patterns. Kintu could feel the forest assessing him, pushing him to his limits, not just physically but mentally.

The path led them into a small clearing, but the relief was short-lived. Kintu stopped in his tracks, his heart pounding in his chest. Before him stood his grandmother, her form ethereal and glowing softly in the gloom. She reached out to him, her eyes filled with warmth and love, just as he remembered.

"Kintu, my boy," she said, her voice a soft melody that tugged at his heart. "Come to me. It has been so long."

Kintu's mind screamed at him to move, but his body refused to obey. He took a hesitant step forward, drawn by the familiar comfort of her presence. But something was not right. The air around her shimmered oddly, and her smile, once warm, now seemed strained.

"Kintu, don't!" Lokus shouted, breaking the spell. The illusion flickered and then shattered like glass. Where his grandmother had stood, there was now a monstrous plant, its maw wide open, ready to devour him whole. Kintu stumbled back, shaking off the remnants of the enchantment.

"That was close," Lokus muttered, his voice laced with concern. "The forest preys on your mind, shows you what you most desire. It is all a trick to lead you to your doom."

As they continued, it became clear that the forest was not done with them yet. Lokus was next, confronted by a vision of his deceased wife. She stood in the path, her eyes sad and accusing, and beside her, a young boy—a vision of Lokus as a child—asked why he had let them die.

Lokus's face twisted with anguish and rage. "No!" he roared, materializing several small bombs from his ring. "I won't fall for this again!" He hurled the explosives in every direction, the ground shaking with each detonation. The forest reacted violently, trees snapping and roots writhing, forcing them to flee the clearing in a desperate sprint.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they arrived at the heart of the forest. It was a place of utter darkness, where the light of day had never touched. In the center stood a massive, gnarled tree, its bark blackened and pulsing with dark energy. At its base lay the Heart of Shadows, a twisted, cursed fake relic, guarded by the most powerful dark dryad they had encountered yet. Her form was tall and elegant, but her eyes were pools of despair, and her presence radiated hopelessness.

"This is it," Lokus said, his voice grim. "If we don't destroy that relic, the forest will consume us."

The battle that followed was fierce and unforgiving. Kintu, summoning every ounce of strength he had left, activated his Akan Boost x2. The dark dryad moved with terrifying speed, her long limbs slicing through the air as she fed on the despair in the clearing. Kintu's attacks, though powerful, seemed to barely make a dent in her defenses.

Lokus, seeing Kintu's struggle, called upon an Akan Boost x5, his body surging with raw power. With a mighty swing of his hammer, he joined the fray, each blow shaking the ground. The two fought side by side, their combined efforts slowly wearing down the dark dryad.

With a final, thunderous strike, Lokus shattered the Heart of Shadows, the cursed relic disintegrating into a cloud of dark energy that was quickly absorbed by the earth. The dark dryad let out a wail as her form dissolved into mist, leaving nothing but silence in her wake.

As the curse lifted, the oppressive fog began to dissipate, and the forest started to return to its natural state. The twisted trees straightened, their bark losing its grotesque shapes, and the eerie green glow faded, replaced by soft, warm sunlight filtering through the leaves.

From the shadows, a beautiful Dryad woman emerged, her hair made of long, flowing vines adorned with delicate flowers. She approached them with a graceful nod, her voice like the rustling of leaves in the wind. "You have freed us from the darkness. For that, we are grateful. Please, allow me to repay you with pleasure."

Lokus, however, shook his head, a knowing smile on his face. "We appreciate the offer, but we must decline. Dryads are dangerous creatures, and while you mean no harm, your touch can drain life from those you seduce. We have other battles to face."

Kintu looked at Lokus and could not help but grin. The older dwarf always knew the hidden dangers of the world. "Let's get out of here," Lokus said, clapping Kintu on the back.

As they made their way out of the forest, the path became clearer, the sunlight growing stronger with each step. Just before they reached the edge of the forest, Kintu spotted something gleaming in the underbrush. A small, ornate treasure chest, half-buried in the roots of a tree. Curious, he knelt and

Curious, Kintu knelt and carefully opened the small, ornate treasure chest. Inside, nestled in a bed of velvet, was a gleaming golden egg. Its surface was smooth, almost warm to the touch, with intricate patterns etched across it that seemed to shift and change under the light.

Lokus's eyes widened slightly when he saw the egg. "A Phoenix egg," he murmured, in disbelief. "These are incredibly rare. It is said that a Phoenix can be reborn from its ashes and that its tears have healing powers beyond measure. This egg is a symbol of renewal and good fortune."

Kintu picked up the egg, marveling at its weight and the faint pulse of energy that radiated from it. "So, what do we do with it?" he asked, looking to Lokus for guidance.

"Keep it," Lokus replied, his tone firm but kind. "A Phoenix egg is a powerful ally, even before it hatches. You will want to safeguard it—it is a sign that our journey is blessed after all."

Kintu nodded, storing the egg securely into his ring. As they exited the forest, the oppressive weight that had clung to them lifted, replaced by a sense of relief and accomplishment. The sunlight was bright and warm, a stark contrast to the dark and twisted world they had just left behind.

With Jinks town now visible in the distance, Locus turned to Kintu, a rare smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You did well back there, Kintu. But remember, the road ahead will not be easy. We have faced one curse, but there are many more challenges to come."

Kintu returned the smile, feeling a renewed sense of determination. "I'm ready for whatever comes next," he said confidently.

And with that, they continued down the path toward Jinks town, the Forest of Isim fading into the distance behind them, its curse lifted but its lessons not forgotten.