Pantheon Ch 11: The Scale of Divinity (Patreon)

After Azure vanished and the plaza emptied, I stood there for a moment, processing everything that had just happened.

Gods.

Goddesses.

Bullying.

Yeah. Totally normal first day.

I glanced down at the golden arrow card in my hand, watching it shimmer and shift, pointing me in a new direction. Right. Dorm. I still had to find my room.

"Um... excuse me?"

I turned.

Eryndor stood a few feet away, hands clasped nervously in front of him. His pointed ears twitched slightly, and his pale skin seemed to catch the light in an almost ethereal way. He looked... fragile. But there was something determined in his eyes too.

"Hey," I said, offering a small smile. "You okay?"

He nodded quickly. "Yes. Thank you again for... for what you did." He hesitated, then gestured vaguely down the street. "Are you heading to the dormitories?"

I held up the card. "Trying to. This thing's supposed to lead me there."

His face lit up just a little. "Oh! I have one too." He pulled out an identical card from his pocket, the golden arrow glowing softly. "Perhaps... we could walk together?"

I glanced at his card, then back at him.

"Yeah," I said. "Sure. That'd be cool."

Relief washed over his face, and honestly? It felt good to have company. Especially after everything.

We started walking, following the arrows as they gently shifted and pointed us down wide, beautiful streets lined with those impossible trees and glowing murals. The city was quieter now, the floating cars drifting past like silent ghosts.

For a while, neither of us spoke.

Then I cleared my throat.

"So," I said, "Eryndor, right?"

"Yes." He nodded. "Eryndor Silvanbranch."

"That's a cool name," I said. "Very... uh, nature like."

He smiled a little. "It is traditional where I come from."

"Yeah? Where's that?"

His expression softened, and I could see something warm flicker in his eyes.

"My home is called Aethelwood," he said quietly. "It is a forest planet. Endless canopies of trees so tall their tops disappear into the clouds. Rivers that glow at night. The air itself hums with life."

I blinked. "That sounds... incredible."

"It is," he said, voice tinged with homesickness. "My people live in harmony with the forests. We are caretakers. Protectors. Everything we build, we build around the trees, never through them. The roots are sacred."

He paused, glancing down at his hands.

"I am the first of my family to be chosen for the School of Divinity," he continued. "My parents... they were so proud. They held a ceremony before I left. The entire village came."

Something about the way he said it made my chest tighten.

"That's... that's amazing," I said. "You must be really special."

He looked up, surprised. "I... I do not feel special. I feel small."

Yeah.

I got that.

"What about you?" he asked, tilting his head. "Where do you come from?"

I exhaled slowly, shoving my hands into my pockets.

"A mining planet," I said. "Called Volara. Nothing pretty about it. Just rocks, dust, and tunnels."

Eryndor watched me carefully, listening.

"My dad and I worked the mines together," I continued. "Deep ones. The kind where you don't see the sun for days. You go down, you dig, you haul, you sleep, and then you do it all over again."

My voice came out rougher than I meant.

"It was hard work," I said. "Backbreaking. Dangerous. But... it was honest. We earned what we had. He always told me that."

I could still see him. Still hear his voice in the back of my head.

"Work hard, Manny. Keep your head down. Do things right, and the world will treat you fair."

Except it didn't.

"Sounds difficult," Eryndor said softly.

"Yeah." I swallowed. "It was."

I didn't tell him the rest. Didn't tell him that my father was gone. That the world he believed in had chewed him up and spit him out like he was nothing.

We walked a little further in silence, the golden arrows guiding us through another turn.

Then something occurred to me.

"Hey," I said, glancing at him. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

I stopped walking, and he stopped too, looking at me curiously.

"Why would you want to be a servant to a god?" I asked. "Especially after what just happened. Those goddesses—they treated you like garbage. And from what I've seen so far, this whole place is built on people bowing to beings more powerful than them."

I frowned.

"So why?" I pressed. "Why go through all this? Why serve someone who might not even see you as an equal?"

Eryndor was quiet for a moment, his expression thoughtful.

Then he smiled.

Not big. Not showy.

Just... genuine.

"Because," he said, "when you worship and serve a god, there are benefits. Great ones."

I raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"

"Protection," he said simply. "A god's protection is not a small thing, Manny. If you are bound to them, their power shields you. Shields your family. Your people."

He looked down at his hands again.

"My planet is beautiful," he continued, "but it is also fragile. There are forces in the universe that would see it destroyed. Stripped for resources. Conquered. But if I serve a god—especially a god of nature—then my people gain that god's favor. Their forests are protected. Their lives are protected."

His voice grew stronger.

"And the power," he added. "The power a familiar gains from their bond... it can be used. Not just for the god, but for your own purposes. To help your people. To make a difference."

He met my eyes.

"That is why I am here," he said firmly. "Not because I wish to bow. But because I wish to protect what I love."

I stared at him.

And for the first time since I'd arrived, I felt like I actually understood someone.

"...That's a good reason," I said quietly.

He smiled again. "Thank you."

We started walking again, the silence between us more comfortable now.

The arrows eventually led us to a tall building—no, tower—made of pale stone that shimmered faintly in the light. It looked almost alive, like the walls themselves were breathing.

"This must be it," I said.

Eryndor looked up, eyes wide. "It is beautiful."

We stepped inside.

The entrance hall was spacious and clean, with soft light filtering down from somewhere above. A spiral staircase wound upward, and the arrows on our cards both pointed in the same direction.

Up.

We climbed.

And climbed.

And climbed some more.

"Why... why are there so many stairs?" I muttered, slightly out of breath.

"Perhaps... it builds... character," Eryndor panted.

Finally, we reached a landing. A single door stood at the end of the hall, carved with intricate patterns that looked like flowing water frozen mid-motion.

Both our arrows pointed directly at it.

I looked at Eryndor.

He looked at me.

"...No way," I said.

"Do you think—"

I pushed the door open.

The room inside was... nice. Really nice, actually. Two beds, one on each side, with crisp white sheets. A large window that overlooked the city, golden light streaming in. Desks. Shelves. Even a small bathroom attached to the side.

And on each bed—

Clothes.

A uniform, neatly folded.

I stepped inside slowly, Eryndor following close behind. We both stood there, staring.

"We are roommates," he said, voice filled with quiet disbelief.

I turned to him, grinning. "Guess so."

His face broke into the biggest smile I'd seen from him yet.

"I... I am glad," he said. "Truly."

"Yeah," I said. "Me too."

We moved to our respective beds. I picked up the uniform carefully, unfolding it.

A white suit jacket. Black pants. Polished, clean, perfectly tailored. And pinned to the jacket was a small bronze badge with the number 1 engraved on it.

"First years," Eryndor said, holding up his own badge.

"Yeah."

Next to the uniform were two pieces of paper.

I picked up the first one.

CLASS SCHEDULE - FIRST YEAR

- Divine Pantheons and Hierarchies – Understanding the structures of godly pantheons and family's across the universe

- Principles of Divine Energy – Introduction to the nature of divine power and its properties

- Bonding: God and Familiar – The sacred contract between mortal and divine

- Physical Conditioning – Preparing the body for service

- Beginner Energy Manipulation – learning about the different energies that a person can use

- History of the Gods – Legends, wars, and the rise of the Gods

I let out a low whistle. "That's... a lot."

"It sounds incredible," Eryndor said, eyes practically glowing as he read his own schedule.

I picked up the second paper.

ORIENTATION NOTICE

All first-year students are required to attend the Opening Ceremony tomorrow morning at dawn. Please arrive in full uniform. Attendance is mandatory.

Welcome to the School of Divinity.

"Dawn," I muttered. "Of course it's dawn."

Eryndor chuckled softly. "We should rest."

"Yeah," I said, setting the papers down. "Good idea."

We changed into more comfortable clothes and settled into our beds. The room was quiet, the city outside glowing softly in the distance.

"Manny?" Eryndor's voice came from the other side of the room.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you," he said. "For standing up for me today. No one has ever done that before."

I turned my head toward him, even though I couldn't see him in the dark.

"Don't mention it," I said. "You deserved better than that."

A pause.

"You are a good person," he said quietly.

I didn't know what to say to that.

So I just closed my eyes.

"Goodnight, Eryndor."

"Goodnight, Manny."

The Next Morning

I was tired.

Like, bone-deep, didn't-sleep-well, why-is-dawn-a-thing tired.

The uniform fit perfectly, which was almost annoying because I had nothing to complain about. The white jacket was crisp, the black pants sharp, and the bronze badge caught the early light as we walked.

Eryndor, on the other hand, looked energized. Practically bouncing.

"Are you not excited?" he asked as we followed the crowd of other first-years toward a massive structure in the distance.

"I'm tired," I muttered.

"But this is orientation!" he said. "We will see the gods. Learn about the school. This is—"

"Too early," I finished.

He laughed.

The building came into view, and my complaints died in my throat.

It was massive.

No—massive didn't cover it.

The structure rose high into the sky, its walls made of some kind of shimmering material that reflected the golden clouds above. It looked like glass, but not quite—more like solidified light, shifting faintly with every angle. Towering columns framed the entrance, carved with symbols I couldn't read, and the doorway itself was large enough to fit a dozen people side by side.

Inside, the space opened up into something that defied logic.

Rows upon rows of seats stretched upward in a gentle curve, all facing a central stage at the bottom. The walls shimmered, almost translucent, and I could see faint shapes moving beyond them—like the building itself was alive.

The ceiling was... gone?

No, not gone. It was there, but it felt infinite. Like looking up into an endless sky.

Eryndor and I found seats near the middle, and I slumped down, rubbing my eyes.

He sat beside me, back straight, eyes wide, taking everything in.

"This is incredible," he whispered.

"Mm-hmm."

More students filed in. Humans. Elves. Species I didn't even recognize. Some looked confident. Others looked terrified.

Eventually, the room filled.

And then—

Silence.

The kind that presses down on you.

I sat up straighter without meaning to.

A figure stepped onto the stage.

The principal.

He looked exactly the same as before—simple coat, dark hair, calm expression—but now, standing in front of hundreds of students, he felt different.

Bigger.

Not physically.

Just... more.

"Welcome," he said.

His voice didn't echo. It didn't need to. It just was, filling every corner of the space effortlessly.

"I am Principal Vareth," he continued, hands clasped behind his back. "And you are the newest students of the School of Divinity."

He paused, letting that sink in.

"This institution," he said, "was created by the Five God Kings at the dawn of the modern age. Its purpose is singular: to bridge the gap between gods and mortals. To help divinity find worthy servants. To help mortals find purpose beyond their own fleeting lives."

His gaze swept across the crowd.

"You are here because you have potential," he said. "Potential to become great. To become legends. To serve beings who shape reality itself."

He smiled faintly.

"But make no mistake," he continued. "You will be tested. Gods and mortals alike. This is not a place of comfort. It is a place of transformation. You will learn about the gods you have only heard of in legend. You will help younger gods carve their names into history. And if you are strong enough—if you are worthy enough—you will bond with one of them."

My thoughts drifted, unbidden, to the silver-haired goddess.

Neil.

Her smirk. Her cruelty.

Like hell I'm going to help her.

I clenched my jaw.

Movement on the stage pulled my attention back.

Two figures stepped forward, flanking the principal.

On his left—

Azure.

Same white suit. Same calm, storm-blue eyes. He stood with his hands in his pockets, expression unreadable.

And on his right—

A woman.

She looked older than the other goddesses I'd seen, but not in a bad way. Mature. Elegant. Her pink hair  was tied up behind her head, and she wore a simple white dress that didn't even pass her knees, to say that she was Beautiful was an over statement.

She smiled warmly at the crowd.

Vareth looked between them, then back at us.

And his smirk returned.

"Before we proceed," he said, "I believe a demonstration is in order."

"Many of you," he continued, "have heard stories about gods and goddesses. About their size. Their power. But stories do not prepare you for reality."

He gestured toward Azure.

"A god," Vareth said, "can vary in size depending on their strength and nature. Most range from six to ten feet in their true forms. Some reach twenty. A rare few—true giants—may reach one hundred feet or more."

Azure didn't move, but I felt the weight of his presence intensify slightly. Like the air itself acknowledged him.

Vareth turned to the woman.

"A goddess, however..."

He paused.

Then snapped his fingers.

The walls vanished.

Not crumbled.

Not shattered.

Just—gone.

The shimmering material dissolved like mist, and suddenly we were outside. Golden clouds drifted lazily overhead, and I realized with a jolt that we were at the very edge of the campus. Beyond the seats, the ground dropped away into open sky.

My stomach lurched.

"Oh my," the pink-haired woman said, her voice light and amused. "I guess it's that time."

She smiled wider.

And then—

She was gone.

Not walked away.

Just... not there anymore.

A shadow fell over us.

Slow. Heavy.

The light dimmed.

I looked up.

My jaw dropped.

An eye.

A massive, enormous, incomprehensibly vast eye stared down at us from above.

It was green. Bright, shimmering green, like polished emeralds lit from within. But I couldn't see the whole thing. I couldn't even see half of it. The curve of the iris alone stretched across the sky, filling my entire field of vision.

It was miles tall.

The eyelid—the eyelid—was larger than buildings. Larger than mountains.

And when it blinked—

The wind hit me.

A gust so powerful I had to brace myself, grabbing the edge of my seat. My hair whipped back. My jacket fluttered violently.

Students gasped. Some screamed.

Eryndor sat frozen beside me, mouth open, staring upward.

I couldn't breathe.

I couldn't think.

I just... looked.

The eye shifted slightly, the pupil moving, and I realized—horribly, viscerally—that she was looking at us. At me. At all of us.

We weren't even insects to her.

We were specks.

Dust.

Nothing.

Vareth's voice cut through the stunned silence, calm and smug.

"A goddess," he said, smirk firmly in place, "well... their size is immeasurably different."

The eye blinked again.

And I understood.

I finally beginning to understand why the principal had warned me about goddesses.

Why everyone who had been here long enough looked so uneasy when goddesses were mentioned.

Why the natural order mattered so much.

Because we weren't partners to them.

We were nothing.