Eryndor' POV
The woman's name was Lyra.
I learned this by listening through the crack in the seal, focusing on the five mortals who had called me. She was the one who had felt my presence most strongly that first night. She was the one who kept coming back to the hidden room, even when the others grew nervous and wanted to stop.
She was searching for something. I could feel it in the way she whispered my name, in the way she traced the ritual symbols they had drawn on the floor. She was empty inside, hungry for meaning in a world that had given her everything except purpose.
I decided to reach out to her directly.
It took most of my strength. The crack in the seal was still small, and pushing through it was like trying to breathe underwater. But I focused all my power on that single thread of connection between us, and I pulled myself along it until I could see through her eyes.
She was alone in the hidden room. It was late at night, and the city above was silent. She sat on the floor with a book open in front of her, one of the forbidden texts they had used to find my name. Her hands were shaking slightly.
I gathered what strength I had and whispered to her. Not words exactly, but feelings. Presence. Understanding. A sense that she was not alone.
She gasped and looked up. "Are you there?"
I pushed harder, trying to form actual words. It was difficult. The seal fought against me, trying to close the connection. But I managed to send her a single thought.
*Yes.*
Lyra stood up quickly, her eyes wide. She looked around the room as if she might see me standing there. "I can hear you. I can actually hear you."
*You called me. I came.*
"The others think we made a mistake," she said. Her voice was rushed, excited. "They want to stop. They are afraid the high gods will find out what we did. But I knew you were real. I knew you heard us."
*Why did you call me?*
She was quiet for a moment. Then she sat back down, her shoulders sagging. "Because I am tired of this life. Everyone tells me I should be happy. I have a good home, good work, and enough food. The high gods have given us everything we need. But it feels like nothing. Like I am just going through motions that someone else decided for me."
You want more.
"Yes," she said. "I want to make my own choices. I want my life to mean something beyond what was planned for me before I was even born. Is that wrong?"
No. It is the most human thing you could want.
She smiled then, and I felt warmth flow through our connection. She believed in me. She trusted me. And that trust fed me power stronger than any prayer.
"What do you need?" she asked. "How can I help you?"
Find others like you. Others who feel empty. Others who want more. Speak my name to them. Tell them about the forgotten god who understands their hunger.
"I will," she said. "I promise."
Over the next weeks, Lyra kept her word. She was careful about it, approaching people slowly, testing them with questions before revealing anything about me. She found a man named Corvin who worked as a builder but dreamed of creating art that no one had approved. She found a young woman named Sera who wanted to travel beyond the city borders but was told it was not part of her assigned life path.
One by one, Lyra gathered them. Eight people. Then twelve. Then twenty. They met in secret, in hidden rooms and abandoned buildings. And they spoke my name.
With each new follower, the crack in the seal widened. Power flowed down to me in a steady stream now instead of drops. I could feel myself growing stronger, more solid. The grey of my skin was fading, replaced by the pale color I had once had when I was fully divine.
The forgotten ones noticed the change. They gathered around me each day, watching as I grew more powerful, hoping that soon they would be able to follow me through the crack and return to the mortal world.
But someone else noticed too.
I was sitting in my temple one evening when I felt something strange. A presence, pushing against the seal from the other side. It was not a mortal. It was divine.
One of my siblings had found the crack.
I stood quickly and reached for the connection, trying to see who it was. The presence pushed harder, and suddenly I felt them clearly.
Celestara.
My eldest sister. The leader of the high gods. The one who had looked at me with disappointment all those years ago before I was cast out.
Her voice came through the crack, cold and clear. "Eryndor."
I did not answer. I was not sure what to say.
"I know you are there," she continued. "I can feel you. The seal is weakening. Your followers are giving you strength."
"You have no right to tell me what I can and cannot do," I finally said. "You cast me out. You erased me. You left me to rot in this grey nothing for a thousand years."
"We had no choice."
"There is always a choice," I said. "You chose control over freedom. You chose your perfect world over allowing mortals to live their own lives. And when I disagreed with you, you threw me away."
"That is not what happened."
"Then tell me what happened," I said. "Tell me why I am here."
There was a long silence. When Celestara spoke again, her voice was quieter. "You do not remember, do you? The seal must have taken those memories to make the imprisonment easier to bear."
"Then remind me."
"No," she said. "If you do not remember on your own, then perhaps it is better that way. But I will tell you this, Eryndor. If you continue down this path, if you break the seal and return, you will destroy everything we have built. You will bring chaos and suffering to a world that has finally found peace."
"You call it peace," I said. "I call it a cage."
"Because you do not understand what mortals need. You never did."
Anger flared through me. "I understand better than you. You sit in your divine realm, looking down at them like children who cannot be trusted. But they are more than that. They deserve the chance to grow, to fail, to choose their own paths."
"Even if those paths lead to destruction?"
"Yes," I said. "Even then. Because a meaningful life is worth more than a safe one."
Celestara was quiet again. Then she said, "I cannot stop you. Not yet. The seal is still strong enough that I cannot reach through to you. But know this, brother. If you break free, if you return to the mortal world, I will stand against you. All of us will. And we will seal you again, permanently this time."
"Then I will be ready for you."
The presence withdrew, pulling back through the crack. The connection to the mortal world settled again, quiet and steady.
I stood there for a long moment, my hands shaking. Not from fear, but from rage. Celestara had confirmed everything I had believed. My siblings had thrown me away because I disagreed with them. They had built their perfect world and would do anything to protect it, even if it meant imprisoning their own brother forever.
I would not let them win.
I called for Kael and the others. They came quickly, sensing my anger.
"What happened?" Kael asked.
"My sister found the crack," I said. "She knows I am growing stronger. She will try to seal me again if I return."
The forgotten ones looked at each other nervously.
"Then what do we do?" Nira asked.
"We move faster," I said. "We gather more followers. We widen the crack until it cannot be closed again. And when we are strong enough, we break through completely and return to the mortal world before they can stop us."
"How long will that take?" Orin asked.
I thought about Lyra and her growing group of followers. I thought about the power flowing to me through their faith and their hunger for freedom.
"Not long," I said. "Weeks, perhaps. A few months at most. The mortals are ready for change. They are ready to break free from the cage my siblings have built. We just need to give them the courage to do it."
I looked at each of the forgotten ones. "Reach through the crack. Find mortals who will listen. Whisper to them. Give them doubt. Give them questions. Make them hungry for more. And when we return, they will welcome us."
The forgotten ones nodded and closed their eyes, reaching for the connection. I joined them, pushing my consciousness through the crack, searching for Lyra.
I found her in the hidden room with her followers. They were twenty-three now. More than I had expected. They sat in a circle, speaking quietly about the forgotten god who had heard their prayers.
I sent warmth through our connection, and Lyra smiled.
"He is here," she said to the others. "I can feel him."
They all grew quiet, their faces turned upward as if they could see me.
I spoke to all of them at once, pushing the words through the crack with effort. *You are not wrong to want more. You are not broken for feeling empty. The life you have been given is not the only life you can have.*
One of them, a young man with dark eyes, spoke. "What do you want from us?"
*Only what you want for yourselves. Freedom. Choice. The chance to live a life that means something.*
"And you can give us that?" he asked.
*I can show you the path. But you must walk it yourselves.*
They looked at each other, and I could feel their fear and their hope mixing together. They were standing at the edge of something dangerous. They knew if they continued, there would be no going back.
But they were tired of safety. They were tired of the perfect, empty life they had been given.
One by one, they nodded.
And the crack in the seal widened just a little bit more.