Creation Of All Things-Chapter 185: Vael

Karyon Sol.

The city was alive.

Golden light spilled between towering spires, casting warm halos on the marble streets below. The air shimmered faintly with mana—just enough to tingle in the skin. Sky-rails zipped above their heads with humming carriages, gliding like silent birds over the skyline. Floating crystals pulsed from the tops of ornate lampposts, illuminating the roads in soft blues and purples.

Adam and Joshua stood at the edge of it all, just having stepped out of the Ostarius gate—a tear in reality snapping shut behind them with a gentle pop. fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

Joshua blinked at the sudden change.

From a war dimension where time meant nothing…

To this.

The smell of roasted meats and spiced vegetables filled the air. The sound of a bard plucking a glowing string-instrument echoed from a nearby plaza. The streets were bustling, but calm—crowds moving in soft flows like synchronized tides.

And the people?

Every kind.

Tall, antlered Elari in long, flowy robes walked beside Dwarin traders with thick gear belts and iron boots. Feathered Avien glided down from sky balconies. A kid with pointed ears and silver eyes ran past, laughing as a trail of magic butterflies followed behind him.

Joshua just stood there, taking it in.

"…Been a long time," he muttered.

Adam looked over, raising a brow. "Since you were here?"

Joshua nodded slowly, his gaze distant. "Yeah. Back when I was… Zayriel."

Adam didn't say anything. He just let him have the moment.

The wind brushed past them, warm and scented with flowers. The city of Karyon Sol had always been a hub of life—a place where all races mixed, where peace lived in the cracks between ancient wars and shifting powers.

Joshua's eyes moved across the familiar towers. He remembered flying above them, wings of white fire spread wide, a sword that sang in his hand.

He remembered walking these same streets once in golden armor, nodding to those who bowed.

Back when he was still the Archon of Light.

Back when he still believed the world was simple.

"…It's weird being back," he said softly.

Adam just smirked, walking ahead. "Well, you're not exactly glowing anymore, so I think we're good."

Joshua chuckled under his breath and followed.

They walked through the city, weaving between crowds, past floating gardens, under enchanted bridges. A fire elemental was juggling molten spheres on a corner, drawing a small audience. A merchant hawked enchanted knives that danced on command. A talking bird in a cage yelled insults at passersby.

Joshua's eyes kept flicking to the small things—signs he'd seen before, buildings that hadn't changed, even after all this time.

"…That tea shop," he said, pointing to a corner stall with draped curtains and lavender steam pouring out. "Used to sit there with Seriel. Talked about dumb prophecy stuff."

Adam raised an eyebrow. "Sounds romantic."

"She was three thousand years older than me."

Adam grinned. "So?"

Joshua just laughed and shook his head.

Eventually, they found it.

A little restaurant tucked between a bookstore and a potion apothecary. No fancy sign, just a carved wooden slab above the door that read:

"Vael's Table."

The warm light inside glowed like a hearth.

Joshua stopped in front of it.

"…Still here."

Adam glanced through the window. "You been here before?"

"Only place I ever ate when I was stationed in Karyon. Best food in the whole realm."

Adam shrugged. "Say less."

They pushed the door open.

Ding.

A soft bell rang as they stepped in.

The inside was cozy—walls of dark wood, glowing mana-lanterns hanging from the ceiling. Tables filled with people of every shape and kind. Soft music playing from a crystal orb in the corner. The smell hit them immediately—rich, smoky, buttery. Spices Joshua couldn't name but knew deep in his bones.

An old man behind the counter looked up, his eyes narrowing. Then widening.

"…Zayriel?"

Joshua froze.

Then smiled.

"Hey, Vael."

The man walked around the counter, slower than before, hair whiter, but the same sharp presence.

"I thought I recognized that aura," Vael said, clapping him on the back. "You're supposed to be dead."

Joshua grinned. "Been working on that."

Vael looked at Adam, studying him for a second. "This one's got the eyes of a killer."

Adam nodded politely. "Good read."

Vael smirked. "Good. Sit. You're getting the special."

They took a seat at a booth near the window. Outside, the city lights began to shimmer into evening colors—soft golds and deep purples painting the skyline.

Joshua leaned back, letting the comfort of it all sink in.

"This place hasn't changed a bit."

"Food better not have either," Adam said, already pulling out the menu—even though they didn't need to order.

A minute later, Vael dropped off two plates the size of shields. One stacked with seared dragon-beef wrapped in flameleaf, the other a tower of steaming soul-rice with glowing sauce and spiced vegetables.

"Eat," he said. "You look like you've been through a hell cycle."

Joshua and Adam dug in without hesitation.

Silence for a while. Just food. Just warmth.

Vael leaned on the edge of their booth, arms crossed, a cloth draped over one shoulder. His eyes, still sharp beneath heavy lids, studied Joshua like a man trying to solve a half-finished riddle.

"…So," he said finally, "how've you been, Zayriel?"

Joshua paused mid-bite, slowly finishing his mouthful before leaning back, the fork still in his hand.

"That name feels like it belonged to somebody else," he muttered.

Vael gave a knowing smile. "Doesn't answer the question."

Joshua glanced out the window.

The city outside was moving into night mode now—floating orbs lighting the streets, shop windows glowing with charm-light, musicians tuning up in distant courtyards. The world kept turning.

He exhaled through his nose, gave a lopsided smile.

"It's been a long journey."

Vael raised a brow, not pushing. Just waited.

Adam, already halfway through his soul-rice, slowed his chewing, watching Joshua out of the corner of his eye.

Vael finally chuckled. "Kid, I serve time-traveling witches and void-touched lords with existential trauma. Don't tell me it's a long journey. I've got all the time."

Joshua looked at him, and for a moment—just a flicker—his expression softened in a way that felt ancient. Like the mask of sarcasm and survival peeled back just enough to show the man underneath. The weight. The years. The fights. The regrets.

But he didn't sink into it.

Didn't spiral.

He just… nodded.

"Alright," Joshua said. "You really want the rundown?"

Vael grinned. "If you start with 'so there was this angel war,' I'm kicking you out."

Joshua laughed. "Then I'll skip the part where I led one."