The Dead God’s Heart

Stars POV

The wind shifts the day we reach the altar.

It smells like rust and rot—like something buried too long has begun to stir.

Kael slows as we crest the ridge. The trees behind us thin into char-streaked stumps, and before us lies a hollow in the earth, where time itself seems to have collapsed. Black stone juts from the soil like broken ribs. Dead grass curls in spirals that bend toward the center. And there, half-swallowed by moss and silence, stands the altar.

Or what's left of it.

Even from here, I feel it.

The ember pulses once—sharp, hungry.

I stumble.

Kael catches my elbow without looking at me. "Relic site," he says quietly. "Old one."

"How old?"

"Before the Fall."

That means godblood. That means madness.

And we're walking right into it.

The altar is simple, but wrong.

Just a slab of obsidian split down the middle. No symbols. No offerings. No name. Just a deep crack running through the center like something tried to tear its way out.

Or in.

Kael kneels beside it, brushes away loose dirt. "This isn't just a shrine," he murmurs. "It's a seal."

I swallow, the ember aching behind my ribs. "For what?"

He doesn't answer. His hand stills on the stone, and for a moment, his body goes rigid.

"Kael?"

He blinks rapidly and sits back. "It's whispering."

"What is?"

"The heart."

The moment I step closer, the ember flares inside me like a gasp.

I reach toward the altar.

Kael grabs my wrist. "Don't."

"I have to."

"You don't understand what it wants."

"I do," I say softly. "Because it's mine."

And I touch it.

Pain.

Not in my body—in my mind. A flood of images crash through me like a storm of knives:

A golden city split by flame.

A god with hollow eyes and antlers made of starlight.

Chains made of light, forged in prayer and betrayal.

A heart pulled from a divine chest, still beating.

Still burning.

And then—me.

Small. Crying. Held in arms I can't remember. A priestess carving a symbol into my skin. My mother screaming. Fire. So much fire.

Then—

Nothing.

I fall back, choking.

Kael's beside me instantly, hands on my shoulders. "What did you see?"

"I think…" My voice shakes. "I think I was marked when I was a child."

His expression darkens. "That altar—it didn't choose you. It created you."

"No," I whisper. "Something in it… planted the ember in me."

He looks at the cracked stone. "Then this altar held the god's heart."

I nod. "And now it's in me."

We stay there as dusk falls, silent.

Kael lights a fire even though he hates to—says it draws too much attention. But tonight, he lights one anyway.

"I killed a god," he says after a long pause. "I drove a blade through its chest while it prayed."

I don't respond.

"I thought it would stop the wars. The hunger. The fear."

He looks into the flames. "But gods don't die. They break. And the pieces—" He gestures to me. "—find hosts."

I stare at my hands, the faint glow flickering beneath the skin. "What if it's trying to come back?"

He doesn't answer. Doesn't need to.

I already know.

That night, I dream of the antlered god again.

But this time… it speaks.

"You are not the end," it whispers in a voice like thunder in a coffin. "You are the beginning."

I wake choking on ash.

Kael is already up, sword drawn.

"What is it?" I gasp.

"Not what," he says grimly, scanning the trees. "Who."

Because we're not alone anymore.

They come with lanterns that don't burn and voices that don't echo.

Cloaked in bone-colored robes, with masks of hollow ivory—Relic Seekers.

Worshippers of the broken gods. Carriers of their fragments. They believe the gods can be reborn through us.

Through me.

One of them steps forward, mask painted with a sun bleeding shadows—the same symbol branded into my collarbone.

He kneels.

"Vessel," he intones. "You have awakened. We have waited so long."

Kael steps between us, sword raised. "Touch her, and I'll bury you."

But the Seeker doesn't flinch. "We do not harm our gods."

"I'm not a god," I snap, stepping forward, fire flickering beneath my skin.

The Seeker tilts his head. "No. Not yet. But soon, you will be more than human. And we will help you ascend."

My blood chills.

"You mean possession."

"We mean awakening," he replies. "Your body, your will, your voice… will become the heart's again. You will remember its name."

Kael tightens his grip on the hilt.

I step closer to the Seeker, letting the ember burn through my eyes. "You want the god back?"

He nods.

I smile coldly. "Then pray faster."

And I light him on fire.