Divine Apostasy Book 12 - Chapter 48

Chapter 48

Consciousness drifted back to Ruwen gradually like a tide washing over a beach, each wave bringing fragments of awareness that slowly coalesced. A warm weight rested against his body, and something soft supported his back and legs. Familiar voices tugged at the edges of memory like half-remembered songs.

“—told you not to use so much oil!” A woman said, her voice sharp with exasperation. “Bakers should stick to the oven and leave the stove to real cooks!”

The acrid smell of burnt corn filled Ruwen’s nostrils, mingling with the humid air. Birds called to each other in the distance, but sudden laughter drowned them out. It sounded like several men, familiar voices that made his chest tighten in recognition, though his clouded thoughts couldn't attach names. The laughter was friendly and comfortable, and he clung to the sound.

Ruwen tried to make sense of these sudden sensations. Where was he? The question uncovered a memory: an explosion—a line of eight fiery spheres in his body—pain and the bliss of enlightenment. What had made him so happy?

But now Ruwen lay on something soft—a bed, his slowly focusing senses told him. Thick humidity and the strong scents of cooking food mingled together and under it all a hint of lavender.

Ruwen’s body felt strange, like a new pair of boots that didn't quite fit. His limbs felt heavy but functional, his breathing steady and easy.

The voices continued their comfortable banter, and Ruwen clung to the sounds.

“Sift, just... step away from the stove,” the woman said, and something about the name made Ruwen's heart skip. “Please. Before you burn down the entire kitchen.”

“It's one small flame,” came a defensive reply. “Barely counts as a fire.”

“Small?” Another voice joined in, incredulous. “The flames reached the ceiling!”

“That's an exaggeration,” Sift protested, though his tone suggested it might not be.

Ruwen felt a sudden snap through his entire being and control of his body returned. Opening his eyes, he immediately winced at the bright sunlight. He was indeed lying on his back, and three turtles faced him. They stood on their hind legs, colored cloth across their eyes, each wielding a different weapon. Their expressions looked determined but not hostile. His eyes cleared and he realized the turtles were just a painting.

Slowly, carefully, Ruwen turned his head to look at the ceiling. Another painting greeted him there, this one featuring a sleek two wheeled vehicle. Bright red colors blazed across its frame, and bold letters spelled out “Ducati” across what might be its fuel tank.

As Ruwen’s senses continued to sharpen, he sensed another presence. Someone sat beside him—yet he’d detected no breathing, no heartbeat, none of the subtle sounds that accompanied a living person. His body suddenly relaxed, muscle memory taking over, and he prepared to fight.

A gentle hand touched Ruwen’s chest, followed by a soft voice. “Easy. You’re safe.”

Ruwen’s body protested as he turned his head to the right, as if he’d used up his quota of motion for the day. He felt clumsy, disconnected, but forced his body to obey.

A woman sat in an old chair pulled up beside the bed, and the sight of her drove every thought from Ruwen’s mind.

She was perfect. The kind of flawless beauty that spoke of careful craftsmanship elevated into art. Sunlight through the open window caught in her blonde hair, each strand glowing with an inner radiance. Kind brown eyes regarded Ruwen with a mixture of relief and amusement, and when she smiled his skin flushed.

Every line of her face, every curve of her form, had been sculpted with precision, the result not just beautiful, but perfect. She was breathtaking. A living goddess.

“You're beautiful,” Ruwen whispered, the words escaping his foggy mind.

Her smile widened, revealing warmth and genuine affection. “I see you kept your wits,” she said.

Before Ruwen could respond, before he could ask any of the thousand questions crowding his confused thoughts, she leaned down and pressed her lips to his.

The kiss was gentle, and the scent of lavender connected to thousands of memories just out of his reach.

She pulled back a bit, their eyes inches apart. “You scared me. All of us, although Sift and Echo would never admit it.”

The names tumbled through Ruwen's hazy mind.

“Grandpa Pine said you Awakened your Divine chakra and touching that place can scramble the brain. He said it took his daughter a month to recover. Thank Uru it only took you days.” Her voice took on a note of urgency. “You still cut it close. The Conclave is tomorrow and the Muses are in a panic that you aren't there.”

Divine chakra? Ruwen's hand moved instinctively toward the top of his head, but the motion felt clumsy, disconnected. The Conclave—that meant something too, something important just beyond his grasp.

The woman turned toward the door, and Ruwen followed her gaze. He realized he was in someone’s bedroom.

“Rami,” she called loudly.

“Hamma,” Ruwen said suddenly, the name bursting from his lips as recognition crashed into him like a tidal wave. Tens of thousands of memories cascaded into place and he nearly blacked out.

Magic flowed out of Hamma, coating Ruwen in Healing magic. It felt like a hundred feathers gliding over his skin, and the blackness retreated.

A dark-haired teenager burst into the room, her movements quick and purposeful. Her eyes were an unusual shade of black flecked with gold and grey, and she held a slightly burned corn tortilla in one hand. She sprung to the bed, kneeling beside it and immediately placing her free hand on his forehead.

“I still can't reach him,” Rami said, her voice frustrated and full of concern.

Without warning, Rami slapped Ruwen’s chest with the burned tortilla. “What did you do this time, you idiot?” she scolded, but her voice betrayed her worry.

Hamma closed her eyes, and liquid sunshine radiated from her hand and into Ruwen’s chest.

“The dimensional fragmentation is almost repaired,” Hamma said, her eyes still closed in concentration. “It should only be another few seconds.”

Dimensional fragmentation? That sounded both ominous and oddly familiar.

Rami glared at Ruwen. “Please stop breaking your brain.”

A voice from the other room reached them, masculine and exasperated. “Stop faking for attention and help a brother out. These women are driving me nuts.”

A moment later, the same voice yelled in pain.

Intense pins-and-needles filled Ruwen’s mind. His brain felt like a dislocated bone.

The sensation intensified and Ruwen winced in pain as the misalignment snapped into place.

All the memories Ruwen couldn't find flooded back, and voices appeared in his mind.

Finally, Overlord said with obvious relief. That was weird.

I know, Ruwen replied. He closed his eyes and recalled his recent enlightenment. The scope of his Divine chakra’s revelation humbled him. He needed to think bigger. Would he have ever discovered this need to extend Harmony into higher dimensions on his own? Probably not. His thinking had been firmly entrenched in his familiar three dimensions.

The Divine chakra had opened Ruwen’s eyes to the truth. To connect fully with the universe, to reach true enlightenment, required understanding of the higher dimensions. This precious insight would allow him to advance.

Ruwen opened his eyes as the last of the confusion disappeared and clarity returned.

Rami left the burnt tortilla on Ruwen’s chest and placed her hands on his temples. She muttered to herself as she mentally examined his restored consciousness. A moment later, she turned to Hamma. “He's fine.”

Rami promptly slapped Ruwen’s chest again, harder this time. “Stop scaring me. You're lucky they saved you.”

“What? Saved me?” Ruwen asked.

Hamma leaned down and kissed Ruwen again. “You're welcome. It was nothing.”

“That's not the way Sift tells it,” Rami said with a sly grin.

“Oh, no,” Ruwen whispered. “What happened?”

“We saved your life,” Sift announced from the doorway.

Ruwen turned to the doorway. White flames appeared and disappeared across Sift’s skin. “Are you on fire?”

Sift raised a burnt corn tortilla holding it like a battle standard. “Grandpa Pine makes it look easy, but I'm still getting the hang of it.”

“You look different,” Ruwen said.

Sift held the burnt tortilla between his lips and flexed both arms. He tried to speak but realized he couldn’t because of the tortilla. He frowned and quickly stuffed the entire thing in his mouth before returning to his pose. “I think the word you’re looking for is magnificent.”

Ruwen sat up and he turned to Hamma. “You see that, right? He’s burning.”

“Hot like fire!” Sift yelled and then quickly stepped into the room as a dagger sailed past behind him. “Hot like fire,” he said in a quieter voice.

Ruwen narrowed his eyes and studied Sift. Just like Hamma, the transition into Deity had perfected Sift’s already good looks. He radiated confidence and life.

Hamma frowned. “I don’t see any flames. Although—”

“Nope,” Sift interrupted. “Remember, no telling secrets. I’ll unveil my magnificence at the appropriate time.”

Instead of studying Sift, Ruwen turned inward. It only took a moment to realize what he saw around Sift was coming from his newly Awakened Third Eye chakra.

Sift grinned at Ruwen. “Now hurry up. Your dad, Gramps, and I are outnumbered. Everybody in this house thinks they're my boss.”

Ruwen extended his senses and like adjusting the focus on a blurry lens, his surroundings came into view.