The truth about Naranq was something most mortals in Spheraphase understood only in fragments, passed down through scripture and history. Every sentient world, without exception, possesses two inevitabilities bound to its existence: a heaven and a hell. These realms are mechanisms designed to receive souls once life had run its course.
In Spheraphase, those realms were known as Naranq, the heaven of the world, and Wisterix, which is hell. Together, they formed the afterlife cycle of the world that ensured no soul simply vanished into nothingness.
Long before Dynasties ruled or before the Second Generation Deities were born, the Heavenly Mother shaped Naranq. When Spheraphase itself was formed, she created the angels as caretakers designed to guide, judge and protect the flow of souls. They were not meant to dominate the living world nor to be worshipped as gods. They were meant to serve the cycle.
Naranq, like most heavens across the sentient universe, functioned as a sanctuary for souls who had passed from mortal or immortal existence. When death occurred, the soul did not wander aimlessly nor fade into oblivion. It was drawn toward the Gates. There, judgment awaited.
The judgment of Naranq was not moral in the simplistic sense mortals often imagined. It was about whether a soul could endure the sanctity of heaven without fracturing, whether it could exist within Naranq's harmony without becoming a parasite or a liability to the system. Those who failed were not condemned out of cruelty. They were redirected to Wisterix, where their resonance aligned with a harsher truth. Those who passed were welcomed into Naranq but even then, heaven was never meant to be eternal.
The Heavenly Mother found the idea of permanent stagnation abhorrent. To her, eternity without change was decay disguised as peace. So, she designed Naranq as a temporary haven. Souls who entered were allowed to rest and shed the burdens of mortal pain and unresolved emotion. They remained for a time—how long depended on the soul itself—before being offered a choice.
Reincarnation.
In Spheraphase, reincarnation was not a fringe belief or an obscure theological concept. It was accepted fact. Mortals and Immortals knew it existed, even if they could not always perceive its mechanics. Souls that chose reincarnation returned to the living world cleansed of memory and reborn into new lives. Growth, the Heavenly Mother believed, required repetition, not endless stasis.
This understanding set Spheraphase apart from many worlds. While Dynasties protected the continents, they were worshipped. The true objects of reverence were Andelaris, rulers of Naranq, and Ceres—or Cerea, depending on cultural dialect—the ruling lineage of hell.
Everything changed when the Heavenly Mother was exiled.
Cast out alongside the other Nexuses, she was severed from direct influence over Spheraphase. But before she left, she made one final irreversible decision. She altered Naranq itself, transforming it into a self-sustaining realm. No longer would heaven depend on a singular ruler to function. Its judgment systems and existence would persist autonomously. She did this not out of bitterness, but out of love.
Her daughters—her angels—deserved lives beyond endless duty. And by the way, almost all the angels in Naranq are female. Few male angels exist in Naranq.
Thus, Naranq became a realm that could exist without oversight, allowing its highest guardians to step beyond its borders and experience worlds beyond sanctity and eternity. Throenia was the firstborn then Denisia and Natalis came as twins. Together, they became known as the Triarchs of Naranq because they embodied its highest functions. Of the three, Throenia carried the greatest burden and the greatest inheritance.
She was the Triarch of Judgment.
Even after Naranq no longer required a living judge to function, Throenia refused to relinquish her role. To her, judgment was a responsibility to be felt. She stood at the threshold between mercy and necessity and judged the souls. Of all the Heavenly Mother's children, Throenia alone inherited a significant portion of her power. That inheritance elevated her beyond even most Divines. She achieved the Sixth Enlightenment.
Unlike her sisters, Throenia had never truly stepped away from eternity.
Natalis and Denisia had left Naranq many times, immersing themselves in Spheraphase and other realms, experiencing the flow of time in fragmented, irregular patterns. Because time in Naranq moved differently—sometimes slower, sometimes in strange loops—it was nearly impossible to calculate their true ages once they began leaving heaven frequently. Throenia, however, had remained. Well, until she went to the Dynasty Meeting.
She has existed for millennia upon millennia, watching souls rise, rest and return to the world. Which was why, when she now stood in another realm, it was strange to her.
Leon watched her for a moment after everything finally settled. Throenia stood apart from the campfire's glow with her wings folded neatly behind her back. She looked unfazed by what had just happened and yet there was tension in her posture.
"Hey, you alright?"
She turned toward him slowly.
"I am unharmed. However, acclimating to a new realm is more difficult than one might initially assume."
Leon snorted lightly. "Yeah, I figured. Whole place is messed up anyway."
His attention drifted back to the people from the carriage. They sat near the fire now, wrapped in cloaks, murmuring to one another in that unfamiliar language. Earlier, when everything had still been chaos and panic, Leon acted on instinct. He knelt beside the fallen guards and placed his hands against torn flesh, calling forth Body Reconstruction without hesitation. Now, seeing them alive and breathing, he realized something important.
They were mortals. Every injury had responded cleanly. His reconstruction had worked completely.
The guards were not just guards. As he pieced together what he had seen during the healing process, he knew. Their formation, the way they positioned themselves even while injured, the insignia stitched into their armor, it all pointed to one thing. They were a royal escort.
His gaze shifted to the young woman sitting slightly apart from the others. She looked exhausted but strangely peaceful. When Leon had healed her, he felt a deep-rooted disease that had eaten away at her body slowly over years. He had removed it without hesitation along with old scars, internal damage and even weaknesses she likely assumed were simply part of who she was.
He leaned back against a log with the fire crackling between him and Throenia. For a moment, the weight of it hit him.
'I'm a Divine Being. Guess being around Vastarael made me forget I'm part of the Four Ancient Races.'
His Body Reconstruction was weaker by comparison, especially on others. Healing himself was instant. Healing others took time, focus, effort and yet, even with that limitation, he had restored a diseased royal and her guards in seconds. If he had been immortal, that would have been a miracle. If he had been anything else, it would have been impossible.
Throenia, for her part, could have healed them as well. Leon knew that instinctively. But when it came to the physical restoration of mortal bodies and souls, he was simply better at it. That was the Aeterium way.
Night had fully settled by then. The forest line loomed in the distance but the meadow around them felt oddly calm. A campfire burned steadily. Leon skewered a chunk of meat, roasted it over the flames, and took a bite with a satisfied hum. After a moment, he held the stick out toward Throenia.
"You want some?"
She glanced at the meat, then back at him.
"I do not consume food. It is unnecessary for my survival."
"Seriously?"
"Yes. I am a Triarch. Since the moment of my creation, sustenance has never been a requirement."
"Huh." He shrugged and took another bite. "More for me then."
She watched him eat with mild curiosity with her head slightly tilted.
"Additionally, I find no pleasure in consuming meat."
Leon laughed softly. "That's wild. I can't imagine life without food. Our parents made sure that we lived as mortals and immortals so so I'm used to it by now."
He chewed thoughtfully for a moment, then glanced back toward the group by the fire. Even though he could not understand their language, they stayed close enough that it was obvious they trusted him now.
"So, what's the plan from here?"
"At present, our priority is survival and orientation. They do not understand us yet they remain. That alone indicates reliance."
"Yeah. They're scared, but they're smart. They know sticking with us is safer than running off."
"You assume responsibility quickly."
He shrugged again. "Someone has to. We can't just leave them. They might also contain information about this world. Guess until we figure out where we are, we keep them alive. Simple enough, right?"
Throenia's lips curved into the faintest smile.
"For now, that will suffice."