Goodbye (3)

Vastarael reappeared with a soft shimmer of light, his boots sinking into the sand.

It was neither white nor golden.

It was black.

The once-frozen shores of Halo Islands had transformed into something otherworldly. Where there had once been layers of ice and frost, now stretched a vast expanse of smooth, glistening obsidian sand. It stretched as far as the eye could see, its dark grains shimmering under the morning light like crushed gemstones.

Vastarael took a step forward, the warmth of the sand radiating through his boots. The sky above was painted in shades of soft pinks and oranges, the sun barely cresting the horizon. The entire world seemed to glow into a perfect harmony of color and contrast. If paradise had a beach, it would look like this.

And he had helped make it this way.

His hands slid into his pockets as he walked forward, the sound of the waves calming his mind. He remembered when this place had been nothing but an icy wasteland, barely livable, frozen in time. It had been cruel back then.

Now?

Now it was alive. The magic of the Halo Islands had flourished, shifting the land, altering its very essence. The fire within the earth had awoken, melting away the cold and replacing it with something new.

Something... beautiful.

Vastarael lowered himself onto the sand, crossing his legs as he stared out at the horizon. He didn't know how long he sat there.

Minutes? Hours? He didn't care.

For once, he let himself enjoy the moment. Earth didn't have beaches like this. Not ones for people like him, anyway.

Sure, they had their white sand paradises, their luxury retreats, their coastal resorts. But those were for the rich. The kind of people who had power, who had connections.

But for people like him?

Back then, before Spheraphase—before he had become what he was now—beaches had been something to see in movies, in pictures, in other people's memories, not something to actually touch. He remembered that one of the patrons of the orphanage begged about how he went to a beach and how beautiful it was ages ago, but since the oceans were declared toxic, beaches were just for the rich.

Now, he had the most breathtaking shoreline he had ever seen, right in front of him.

And he was about to leave it all behind.

He let out a slow sigh, shaking his head to himself.

"I'm going to miss this place."

"You sure do hate goodbyes, huh?"

His entire body froze. His breath hitched. And before he could even think, he turned his head so fast his neck almost snapped.

There, sitting on the black sand, her arms folded over her chest, was a woman who looked like she had stepped straight out of the cosmos itself.

Narisva Starisnova.

Her hair was long, dark and woven with galaxies, cascading down her back like an endless night sky. Her eyes were swirls of purple, blue, and silver shimmered within them, shifting and changing as if the entire universe was contained inside her irises.

And she was staring directly at him. Vastarael's mind short-circuited. His heart slammed against his ribs but his body remained invisible. He hadn't dropped his enchantment. He was still cloaked, still unseen.

But Narisva?

She was looking right at him.

"How— how can you see me?"

She tilted her head slightly, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Because I'm built different."

Vastarael narrowed his eyes.

"Bullshit."

He had encountered a lot of powerful people in his life, and not even the most perceptive warriors, assassins, or scholars had ever been able to pierce through his invisibility. Not even his mother and father could see him when he sneaked into their room once and saw...

He'd rather not remember it. He was glad his curiosity ended right then and there.

"Liar," he muttered.

Narisva let out a dramatic sigh, flipping a lock of starry hair over her shoulder.

"Ugh, fine. You caught me. It's because I have the Space Tether. I can sense anything around me, invisible or not. And since I know exactly where you are, I can see you just fine."

Vastarael blinked, then blinked again. Slowly, he turned his gaze upward, staring at the sky as if asking the gods for answers.

"So the Codex was lying to me."

"You actually thought I couldn't see you?"

He scoffed, finally dropping the enchantment, his form shimmering back into existence. Thankfully, dropping it didn't meant that his enchantment would be erased. He still had like fifteen hours left to remain invisible.

"Of course I did. My Codex is supposed to be infallible."

"Yeah? Well, your Codex clearly never met me."

Vastarael rubbed his temples. Maybe she really was built different. His Codex had never failed before. His invisibility had worked against beings that existed on entire planes of divinity above him. And yet, here was Narisva, standing in the sand, looking at him like it was the most normal thing in the world.

'Unbelievable...'

Vastarael sighed, resting his arms on his knees as he stared out at the horizon again.

"What do you want?"

Narisva plopped down next to him, stretching her legs out in front of her.

"Geez, don't sound so happy to see me."

"I'm not."

She gasped dramatically, "Wow. Rude."

He rolled his eyes, but there was the slightest hint of amusement in them. Narisva leaned back on her elbows, gazing out at the waves.

"You leaving?"

Vastarael's fingers twitched. He didn't answer right away.

"Thought so. You suck at goodbyes, you know that?"

Vastarael let out a slow breath. "Yeah. I know."

Silence stretched between them. Not an uncomfortable one. Just a shared understanding.

Finally, Narisva broke it.

"You coming back?"

Vastarael opened his mouth then closed it. Because the truth was, he didn't know. So instead, he simply said:

"I hope so."

Narisva hummed, watching him carefully.

"That's not a yes."

"No, it's not."

She stared at him for a long moment. Then, without warning, she leaned over and flicked him on the forehead.

"Ow— what the hell?"

"That's for trying to leave without telling me, dumbass."

Vastarael groaned, rubbing his forehead.

"You're insufferable. I'm a weak First Phase Ascender and you're Third Phase. Mind your strength will you?"

"First Phase Ascender, huh?" She whistled low, shaking her head. "That's kind of pathetic, Vastarael. You're supposed to be the Prince of Beauty, not the Prince of Weaklings."

Vastarael scoffed, "Excuse me? Do you have any idea how much effort it takes to keep my face this perfect?"

Actually, he never focused on his appearance.

Narisva blinked, then cackled.

"Oh, that's rich. That's actually rich. You're telling me you stayed at First Phase to preserve your beauty?!"

"Hey, priorities," Vastarael flicked his wrist dramatically. "But also, not my fault I got stuck. Someone is halting my progress."

Narisva rolled her eyes, "Yeah, yeah, excuses. Meanwhile, I'm over here at Third Phase Ascender and still kicking ass."

"Third Phase? That's cute."

"Cute? Oh, Vastarael, you poor, sweet, fragile little prince. I'm not just any Third Phase Ascender. I am the most powerful divine being of the Third Generation."

She leaned in, voice dropping into that mockingly sweet tone that made Vastarael's eye twitch. Vastarael let out an exaggerated gasp.

"No way! Are you serious? I had no idea!"

"Of course you didn't," she said proudly, flipping a strand of starry hair over her shoulder. "Because your little First Phase self wasn't even alive when I was out here slaughtering gods."

Vastarael groaned, "Oh gods, here we go—"

"Forty-three."

He stared at her blankly. "What?"

Narisva grinned, eyes glowing with obnoxious self-satisfaction.

"I killed forty-three gods at eighteen. That's right, eighteen. Some of them were even Elders. No big deal, though."

"Gods, you're worse than Narisva's Greatest Hits. I swear, if I have to hear about your body count one more time—"

"Body count?" Narisva's grin widened. "Vastarael darling, I don't have a body count. I have a god count."

Vastarael opened his mouth then promptly closed it, because he actually had nothing to counter that.

'Damn it.'

She really was insufferable. And yet, even as she bragged, something else dawned on him. Narisva was older than him by six whole years. She was twenty three and he was seventeen.

But he was still taller.

His lips curled into a slow smirk. He leaned forward, deliberately looking down at her as he examined her like one might inspect a very small, very unimpressive artifact.

"You know, for someone with that many god-kills, you sure are… short."

Narisva froze. Her nebula-filled eyes twitched.

"What?"

Vastarael gestured vaguely with his hand. "You know. Just saying. You're kinda… on the smaller side."

Narisva's fingers twitched. Vastarael grinned, pressing on.

"Like, compared to Adelasta? Farrynelle? Elyonari? Actually, wait... aren't you even shorter than Denisia?"

That was the final straw. She tackled him hard.

Vastarael barely had time to curse before he was slammed into the black sand, Narisva's hands pinning him down with a ridiculous amount of strength.

"OH SHIT—"

Vastarael choked, eyes widening as he heard cracks on his arm. His bionic sapphire arm.

Vastarael flailed. "I SURRENDER! I SURRENDER!"

Narisva narrowed her eyes. "Say I'm not short."

"You're not short!"

She didn't budge.

"Say it again, like you actually mean it."

Vastarael gulped, "You're the tallest, most towering, most absolutely fear-inducing goddess I have ever seen! Now let me go! This arm was a gift from a Phantasm!"

Finally, she sighed and released him, sitting back on the sand. Vastarael groaned, rolling his injured arm. His sapphire graft was already repairing itself but she almost shattered it.

"That was excessive," he muttered.

Narisva gave a fake-sweet smile.

"That was self-defense."

"Against what? A height joke?"

"Against slander."

"Shouldn't women be glad that they're short? You're not a guy."

"Don't speak about my height again."

Vastarael rubbed his face, muttering something about "crazy short women" under his breath. But then, Narisva sighed dramatically, glancing at him with mild irritation.

"I didn't punch you because your face is too handsome."

Vastarael perked up immediately.

"Oh? So you admit it, then."

"I regret saying anything."

Vastarael ignored her. He sat up, brushing obsidian sand from his clothes, then turned to face her with mock sincerity.

"You know, it's not narcissism if it's true."

Narisva snorted. "Oh by the Primordials..."

"No, no, let's talk about this,' Vastarael gestured to his own face. "Objectively speaking, I am the most attractive man in all of Spheraphase. It's literally in my Codex."

Narisva looked like she was going to have an aneurysm.

"Your Codex is delusional."

Vastarael gasped, clutching his chest.

"How dare you. My Codex is an honest, hard-working guide to my perfection. I'm known as the Prince of Beauty. The most beautiful man of present times. Well, my dad was of the past —"

She facepalmed. "I should have broken your arm."

"But then my beauty would be tarnished, and you wouldn't want that, now would you?"

Narisva clenched her fists. "I literally just said I should have broken your arm."

"And yet, you didn't."

"Because I have mercy."

"Because you couldn't bear to ruin this masterpiece." Vastarael gestured to himself, smirking. "It's okay. You can admit it."

Narisva groaned, shoving him lightly.

"You are the most irritating bastard I have ever met in my life."

Vastarael laughed, flopping back into the sand. "And you love it."

She sighed, "Unfortunately, yeah. I kind of do. I'm cocky so I understand you."

And for the first time that morning, they both just smiled.