“Aren’t you a god?” Camille asked, her voice strained. The saltiness in her throat stung with every word, and her face flushed from the sun’s relentless heat.
“My function in this world is to serve and assist His Majesty, the God of the Water Kingdom. Therefore, I am nothing.” Azzel spoke with measured politeness, his tone carrying a quiet reverence for someone far greater than himself.
Camille’s eyes narrowed slightly, his humility puzzling her. Azzel’s presence felt commanding, almost otherworldly, yet he claimed to be insignificant. What would meeting a real god feel like, then? Her hands moved to pull back her tangled hair, a self-conscious attempt to look presentable. But the effort was futile, and she sighed, defeated. “So, how are we going to get there?”
Azzel motioned toward the immense cliff before them, where the towering castle loomed like a vision. Its spires glimmered in the sunlight, framed by lush cedar trees. The sheer drop between them and the structure was daunting, sharp rocks jutting out from the restless waves below.
“We’re crossing that?” Camille asked, her voice laced with nervous laughter.
“Here,” Azzel replied simply. He closed his eyes, tapping the sand lightly with his staff. Camille watched, her curiosity overriding her fear. The air shifted, crackling with unseen energy.
Suddenly, the waters before them surged violently, the waves crashing and roaring as if alive. Camille staggered, bracing against the gusts of wind that whipped around her. Rainbows shimmered through the salty mist as the ocean split apart, forming a breathtaking stairway that rose from the depths, each step glistening like glass.
“No way,” Camille breathed, her awe cutting through her disbelief. She stared as the water molded itself with precision, defying gravity and reason. “Maybe you are a god,” she whispered, half-joking, half in awe.
Azzel smiled faintly. “Come.” He gestured for her to follow, stepping confidently onto the crystalline staircase.
Camille hesitated, her legs trembling as she placed one tentative foot on the first step. The surface felt solid, yet cool, as though the water remained alive beneath her. She glanced down, instantly regretting it. Sharks swam just below the surface, their massive forms gliding ominously close. She yelped and quickened her pace, nearly stumbling into Azzel as she kept her gaze fixed ahead.
“Do not fear,” Azzel said gently, his voice calm despite the chaos around them. “We will reach our destination soon.”
By the time they reached solid ground, Camille collapsed to her knees, gasping for air. Her heartbeat echoed in her ears, louder than the cascading waterfall in the distance. She pressed her palms to the cool ground, trying to calm the trembling in her legs. Azzel stood beside her, waiting with patient composure, his golden eyes watching her closely, though he made no move to rush her.
It was only as her breathing steadied that Camille became aware of her surroundings again. The garden around them was alive in ways she couldn’t explain. Strange creatures lingered just out of reach, as if studying her. A fish with fins that shimmered like molten silver hovered nearby, its body gliding effortlessly through the air. It paused, tilting slightly as though meeting her gaze before darting away, its movements impossibly smooth.
A soft rustling made her look to her side. A fox-like creature with soft, mossy fur and glowing green eyes emerged from the underbrush. It stopped a few feet away, tilting its head curiously. Its tail, long and feathered like a bird’s plume, swept the ground, creating faint ripples in the air. Camille blinked, mesmerized. The creature didn’t seem afraid of her—instead, it edged closer, sniffing the air around her.
“They are drawn to you,” Azzel said softly, his voice breaking through her awe.
Camille looked up at him, startled. “Drawn to me? Why?”
Azzel hesitated before replying. “This world is sensitive to the presence of innocence and purity. It is rare for a human to set foot here. Rarer still for one with a heart as unguarded as yours.”
Camille’s brow furrowed, her gaze flickering to the fish that now circled above her, joined by others of vibrant blues and golds. She reached out instinctively, her fingers brushing the air as one floated near. It lingered for a moment, its translucent fins shimmering like liquid light, before retreating.
“I don’t understand,” she murmured, her voice trembling. “This… this can’t be real. It doesn’t make sense.”
As if responding to her doubt, a soft breeze rustled through the garden, carrying with it the faint scent of something sweet and familiar. The flowers nearest to her began to sway, their golden-edged petals turning toward her like sunflowers seeking light. Camille pulled back, startled, as a soft glow emanated from the plants.
“You see,” Azzel continued, his voice calm and steady, “this world is as curious about you as you are of it. You don’t belong here, and yet… something about your presence feels right.”
Camille swallowed hard, her gaze darting to the reflection of herself in a nearby pool of water. She looked as she always had—tangled hair, bare feet, wrinkled pajamas—but the way the world around her reacted made her feel different. She glanced back at the fox-like creature, now sitting calmly a few feet away, its glowing eyes never leaving hers.
“What does it want from me?” she whispered, almost afraid of the answer.
Azzel tilted his head, his golden gaze softening. “Perhaps it is not about what the world wants from you, but what you have awakened in it. You are… unusual.”
His words unsettled her, but there was no malice in his tone—only curiosity, as though even he couldn’t fully grasp why she was here.
Camille shifted her gaze back to the garden. The air seemed alive with an unspoken rhythm, a hum that buzzed faintly against her skin. The fish swirled in graceful arcs overhead, joined now by creatures she couldn’t name—some with wings, others with scales, their forms blurring the line between water and air, land and sea. The colors were almost too vivid, the movements too fluid, as if the world itself were performing for her.
Her heart ached at the beauty of it all, but the mystery beneath it filled her with unease. She pressed her hand to her chest, trying to steady the wild thrum of her heartbeat. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “But… it’s overwhelming. I feel like I don’t belong here.”
“And yet, you do,” Azzel replied gently. “For reasons even I cannot fully understand. His Majesty will have the answers you seek.”
Camille looked at him, her stomach knotting at the mention of meeting the god of this realm. She glanced down at herself again—disheveled and dirty, a stark contrast to the surreal beauty surrounding her. “Wait,” she said suddenly, her voice breaking. “I’m not ready to meet a god.”
Azzel paused, his expression thoughtful as he regarded her. “You fear you are unworthy.”
Camille hesitated before nodding. “Look at me,” she said, gesturing to herself. “I’m a mess. I don’t understand any of this. Why would a god summon me?”
The garden seemed to react to her words. The air grew still for a moment, as though listening, before the breeze returned, softer this time. Azzel gave a faint smile, his voice gentle as he replied. “The gods do not summon without purpose, young lady. You may not see it yet, but there is something within you that has drawn His Majesty’s attention.”
Camille’s gaze wandered again to the swirling fish, the glowing creatures, the vibrant flowers swaying as though in harmony with an unseen force. Everything about this place seemed to acknowledge her presence, as if she were part of its design. The thought sent a shiver down her spine.
“Come,” Azzel said, extending his hand toward her. “There is more to see. And more to understand.”
Reluctantly, Camille rose to her feet, her legs still trembling. The world watched her as she moved, its beauty both captivating and unsettling. She couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t just the garden that was alive—it was the entire realm, and it was waiting for something. For her.
Azzel studied her for a long moment, his expression thoughtful. Despite the disarray of her appearance, there was something about her—something untainted and raw that intrigued him. It shone through her luminous violet eyes, though they were clouded with doubt and sadness.
Reaching into the nearby foliage, he plucked a leaf shaped like a chalice, its edges glistening as though dusted with starlight. Cradled within the leaf was a pool of crystal-clear liquid, the surface shimmering faintly in the dappled light of the garden.
“Drink this,” Azzel said, his voice calm but firm. “It will restore your strength until His Majesty decides how to proceed.”
Camille hesitated, her fingers brushing the leaf’s smooth surface. Her gaze flicked toward Azzel, searching for reassurance. He offered her a patient nod.
Tentatively, she lifted the leaf to her lips. The liquid was cool and impossibly refreshing, quenching a thirst she hadn’t realized she’d felt. As she drank, a wave of warmth coursed through her, spreading to her fingertips and toes. Her earlier exhaustion melted away, replaced by a strange but invigorating energy.
“Better?” Azzel asked, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Camille nodded, though the tension in her shoulders hadn’t eased. “What is this place?” she whispered, her voice wavering.
Azzel didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he turned to a nearby bush of white carnations. The flowers shimmered faintly, their edges glinting like strands of spun gold. He plucked a single bloom, its stem glowing softly in his grasp.
“This is the realm of the gods,” he began, his tone cautious, as though choosing his words carefully. “Each god governs a part of creation. Some are benevolent, others… less so. His Majesty, the God of Water, is among the most powerful of them.”
Camille stiffened, her fingers curling around the hem of her pajamas. She looked down, her anxiety palpable. “What’s he like?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Azzel paused, his golden eyes flickering with a shadow of something Camille couldn’t place—regret, perhaps, or a guarded respect. “He is… private and particular,” he said slowly. “Ruthless when necessary. Unforgiving at times.”
Camille’s breath hitched, but before she could speak, Azzel’s expression softened. “And yet,” he continued, his voice gentler now, “there is a depth to him. A goodness that lies beneath his stern exterior. It may not be immediately visible, but it is there.”
His words were meant to comfort her, but they left Camille uneasy. She bit her lip, her gaze darting back to Azzel. “So… I should be afraid?”
“Not afraid,” Azzel said carefully, “but cautious. The gods see the world differently than mortals do. They value things you may not yet understand. You must meet him with an open heart and a steady resolve.”
Camille nodded hesitantly, though her hands trembled slightly. Azzel noticed and offered her a small, reassuring smile. With a flick of his wrist, the carnation in his hand dissolved into a fine, golden dust. The particles swirled around Camille like a gentle breeze, brushing against her skin.
She gasped as warmth enveloped her, and her worn pajamas began to shimmer. In their place, a gown of breathtaking elegance materialized. The fabric was soft and flowing, its color shifting between pale silver and shimmering gold as it caught the light. The long sleeves were trimmed with intricate lace, and delicate embroidery of golden threads wove patterns of water lilies and waves across the bodice and hem.
Speechless Camille stared at her reflection in the nearby pool of water. She barely recognized herself. The girl staring back was radiant, her features softened by the elegance of the gown.
“Now,” Azzel said, stepping back to admire his work, “you are ready.”
He turned and began to lead her deeper into the garden. Camille followed, her eyes wide as she took in her surroundings. Flowers in every conceivable color bloomed around them, their petals shimmering like gemstones. Butterflies with iridescent wings flitted between the blooms, their movements graceful and deliberate.
Camille paused as a golden butterfly landed lightly on her outstretched hand. Its touch was so delicate, it felt like a whisper against her skin. Her eyes filled with wonder.
Azzel glanced back at her, his expression unreadable. “The Gods’ World is unlike anything you’ve ever known,” he said, his voice breaking the spell of the moment. “It is sacred—a place of immense beauty but also great danger. The gods here are not like mortals. Their power is absolute, their will unyielding.”
Camille’s gaze wandered as he spoke, drawn to a distant waterfall that spilled into a crystal-clear lake. Swans and flamingos glided across its surface, their movements serene. Fish of every imaginable hue leapt from the water, transforming mid-air into winged creatures that fluttered across the garden like birds.
“In this world,” Azzel replied, “reality is a fluid thing. What you see, what you feel—everything here exists beyond the limits of mortal understanding.”
They stopped before a pair of towering gates, their intricate design resembling waves frozen in time. Azzel turned to her, his expression serious now. “His Majesty is aware of your presence,” he said. “Be patient. And prepare your heart for what lies ahead.”
Camille swallowed hard, her legs trembling beneath her. She forced a shaky smile, trying to muster courage. “I’ll… I’ll try.”
Azzel inclined his head, his gaze lingering on her for a moment. Then, without another word, he stepped through the gates, leaving her alone in the garden.
Camille exhaled slowly, her hands smoothing the delicate fabric of her gown. Around her, the garden seemed to hum with life. Every flower, every blade of grass, every ripple of water shimmered with an otherworldly energy.
She reached out to touch a nearby bloom, her fingers grazing its velvet-soft petals. “Two worlds in one,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.
For the first time, she allowed herself to believe—if only a little—that she might belong here.