Divinity's Remnant

The familiar ache in my feet had finally surrendered to blessed relief, all thanks to these vale thread boots Dravendir had practically forced on me before my departure. “Trust me on this one, Sana,” he’d said, wearing that insufferably knowing smile while I’d winced at the price tag. His recommendations always came with a hefty cost, but I had to admit—these Ihrnbri-crafted beauties had carried me across terrain that would have left me hobbling back to civilization in my old boots.

The mountain range stretched endlessly before me. Dawn broke across the jagged horizon in waves of amber and rose, and I found myself stopping mid-climb just to gawk at the view. My vision might have been amplifying the colors, or maybe these heights really did exist closer to the divine realm than anywhere I’d ever wandered. Either way, the scenery was doing wonders for my mood, even when my lungs were staging their daily protest about the thin air.

For days now, I’d been following what could generously be called a hunch - that familiar tingle in my chest that usually meant I was either onto something incredible or about to walk face-first into trouble. Given my track record, it could honestly go either way, but my instincts had kept me alive and employed this long, so I figured they were worth trusting.

One moment I was carefully picking my way along a ledge that made me seriously question my life choices, the next I was standing at the edge of what had to be nature’s most dramatic architectural achievement. The mountains rose around me in perfect symmetry - so perfect it almost seemed like someone had carved this sanctuary with divine precision, specifically designed to catch whatever blessings might tumble from the heavens. The air seemed to hum with energy, even without any trace of Myst.

This was definitely the place.

I’d barely caught my breath when I remembered Dravendir’s parting gift. The Lodge Lozenge sat warm in my palm, its colourful surface catching the last rays of sunlight like a tiny disco ball. “Sometimes,” he’d said with uncharacteristic seriousness, “the most important part of any journey is knowing when to stop and actually pay attention to what’s happening around you.” Wise words from a man who’d probably seen more wonders than I could imagine - though getting him to share stories was like trying to squeeze water from a stone.

The transformation never got old. The little pill unfolded with organic grace, blooming into a perfectly grown shelter that somehow always seemed to know exactly what I needed. Tonight’s interior decorator had gone with sky blue furnishings - my absolute favorite, though I was pretty sure I’d never mentioned that particular detail to anyone. The bedding looked cloud-soft and incredibly inviting after days of sleeping on rocky ground, and every surface had that seamless, grown-rather-than-built quality that still made me want to run my hands along the walls like an architect inspecting her creation. Best of all, the crystalline skylight promised perfect stargazing weather.

As darkness settled over the valley, I stretched out on sheets that seemedwaytoo expensive for me, and let my enhanced vision feast on the celestial show above. The usual suspects were all present—Orion showing off as always, the Big Dipper doing its reliable thing—but something else was moving between the stars. Something that made my heart do a little skip of recognition before my brain caught up with what I was seeing.

At first glance, it could have been some kind of aircraft, but nothing built by mortal hands could navigate these altitudes with such impossible elegance. Plus, last I checked, airplanes didn’t typically glow with a golden radiance.

The radiance intensified as the shape descended, resolving into something I’d only read about in the oldest texts. A Vimana - an actual, honest-to-goodness divine chariot, sailing through the night sky with all the majesty the ancient stories had promised. Its conical form moved with clear purpose, trailing ribbons of liquid gold that made ordinary starlight look positively mundane by comparison.

I practically tumbled out of my cozy lodge into the bite of mountain wind, my sleeping gown billowing around me like I was auditioning for some dramatic mountain goddess role. The cold should have been shocking at this altitude, but pure wonder had apparently numbed me to everything except the celestial dance unfolding overhead. The Vimana traced lazy spirals across the star field, and from its golden wake began to fall what I’d traveled halfway across the known world to witness.

Actual amrita. The real deal. The nectar of immortality that most people thought was just a pretty metaphor.

I cupped my hands just as a single drop settled into my palm like a tiny, warm star. It pulsed with inner light against my skin, and I could feel its power humming through my bones—that same frequency that seemed to call to something deep and ancient in every living thing. This was what Lichen & Lumina were after, though I was starting to suspect they had absolutely no idea what they were actually asking me to collect. Typical clients, really.

Around me, the entire valley floor began to sparkle as more droplets found their mark, each one a seed of transformation that would soon turn this hidden sanctuary into something beyond anything I’d studied in my botanical texts. By morning, the first Ashwagandha shoots would start pushing through the soil, drinking in this celestial blessing and becoming something infinitely more potent than any earthly herb.

I retreated to my lodge with hands still tingling from divine contact and a big smile on my face. These moments were exactly why I’d chosen this wonderfully unpredictable life over a sensible job elsewhere. Sure, the work could be demanding, and yes, I spent most of my time operating on partial information while trying not to accidentally anger anything with too many teeth. But nights like this? They made every sore muscle, every time i got lost in the woods, and every moment of wondering what exactly I’d gotten myself into - completely worthwhile.

I was living in a world where gods still flew overhead and magic literally fell from the sky. How many people could say that?

Tomorrow would bring the delicate work of harvesting these blessed sprouts before their potency could fade, assuming I could figure out the proper technique without accidentally ruining everything. Tonight, I’d sleep under stars that had witnessed divine passage, in a vale touched by heaven itself, probably dreaming of all the questions I wanted to ask Dravendir about how he always seemed to know exactly where to send me.

Despite all the uncertainty that came with being a professional collector of the impossible, I couldn’t imagine trading this life for anything more predictable. After all, where else could a girl like me end up catching falling starlight in her bare hands? 

—Seeker Sana​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​