Chapter Three: The Path Divided

I should not have been able to hear them.

The voices of gods and demi-gods were not meant for mortal ears. Their words should have been distant, too high above my understanding, too vast for my fragile mind to contain. But I was not mortal. I was something else entirely, something shaped by their will. And so, I heard.

I lay still in the glowing glade, my body aching, my mind thrumming with a thousand new sensations, and I listened.

"She cannot be left alone."

A deep, rumbling voice, filled with certainty. The same one who had first spoken when I had fallen from the sky.

"You say that as if any of us suggested otherwise," another voice cut in, sharp as a blade, laced with quiet amusement. "She is too important. Too fragile. Too… unfinished."

Fragile. The word struck something deep within me, a flicker of frustration igniting in my chest. I clenched my fingers, feeling the strange pull of muscle, the unfamiliar weight of my own body.

"We must place her carefully," another voice murmured, thoughtful, cautious. "The world will not accept her easily."

"And yet," a fourth voice countered, dark and rich, like embers smoldering beneath stone, "it is not our decision alone. We have fulfilled our purpose. She is. What comes next is no longer ours to control."

A silence settled between them, heavy with unsaid things.

"She is not ready," someone muttered.

"She does not need to be," came the reply. "She must learn. The question is where."

I did not move. I did not breathe.

And yet, I knew.

They were deciding my fate.

---

The Demi-Gods' Divide

I did not know how long their deliberation lasted, only that I was aware of each shift in their voices, each unspoken tension.

"She should go to the Elves first."

A calm, measured voice—one of the gentler ones, though no less firm. "They are the most likely to understand what she is. To protect her."

"They are also the most likely to hide her," another countered, voice thick with disdain. "To keep her from her purpose."

"Then let her go to the Werewolves," a new voice interjected. "They would not coddle her. She would grow strong there."

"She would be consumed there," someone snapped. "The Blood Moon Pack is already at war with itself. They would tear her apart before she even understood who she was."

"Then the Vampires."

A scoff. "Yes, because placing the most valuable being in existence in the hands of creatures who thrive on hunger and control is a brilliant idea."

The conversation spiraled, each demi-god throwing another argument into the void. The Merfolk were too unpredictable. The Dragons too brutal. The Celestials too detached.

I had not yet met these people, but already, I understood one thing: no place was safe.

At last, the deep-voiced one spoke again, the weight of his authority silencing the others.

"She will go to the humans."

The reaction was immediate.

"You cannot be serious."

"That is folly—"

"The humans know nothing—"

"They know survival," the voice countered. "And she must survive before she can do anything else. Let her learn what it is to exist beyond divine purpose. Let her walk among them before the rulers find her."

A pause. Then, reluctantly, another voice conceded, "Perhaps that is not the worst choice."

"She will have no allies."

"She will make them."

"She will have no guidance."

"She will learn."

I barely had time to process what was happening before the world tilted beneath me. The mist that had shrouded the demi-gods thickened, swirling around me, pressing against my skin. I gasped, my body seizing with an unfamiliar sensation—

Falling.

Again.

Only this time, I did not plummet from the sky.

This time, the world shifted.

And I was gone.

---

A Harsh Welcome

I awoke to chaos.

Voices shouting. A metallic tang in the air. The ground beneath me was hard, not the soft, glowing grass of the glade, but uneven stone, cold and unyielding.

The air was thick with smoke and something sharper, something that made my stomach twist.

Blood.

I struggled to move, my limbs sluggish, my senses overwhelmed. My head throbbed as I tried to push myself upright, my fingers scraping against damp stone. My vision blurred, and I barely registered the figures moving in the distance—

Until one of them was right there.

A shadow loomed over me, tall and broad, features obscured by the dim torchlight.

"Well, well," a rough voice murmured. "What do we have here?"

Danger.

I felt it before my mind could fully process it. A wrongness in the air, a tension in the way they stood. I should have run. Should have moved, should have done something.

But I was still too weak.

A hand shot out, fingers tangling in my hair as I was wrenched upward, a sharp sting lancing across my scalp.

"Not from around here, are you?"

I opened my mouth, but no sound came.

The figure grunted, shoving me forward. My knees hit stone, and pain flared up my legs. Laughter echoed from the shadows.

"Looks like we found ourselves a stray," someone sneered. "Wonder what she's worth."

I forced my head up, trying to understand where I was. The walls were jagged, cut from dark stone, damp with condensation. A cavern? A city underground?

A hand reached toward my face. I flinched.

And then—

"Enough."

The new voice cut through the air like a blade. The hands restraining me stilled.

I turned my head, my breath catching.

A woman stood at the mouth of the cavern, wrapped in a dark cloak, her expression unreadable.

"She is not for you," she said coolly.

One of the men scoffed. "And what's she to you?"

The woman took a slow step forward.

"She is mine."

The weight of those words settled over me, sharp as steel.

I did not know her. Did not know if she was friend or foe.

But in that moment, as she stared down the men who had seized me, I knew one thing.

She was my only chance.