No thunder announced your return. No fire in the sky, no choir of angels. Only the silence of the wind between the thorns and the quiet surrender of the ancient land, breathing again at last, freed from the weight of oblivion. You were not reborn - you were remembered. Not as a legend, but as part of themselves, as something necessary to their existence.

You were called by many names, of which only echoes remain in history. But the Deity of Devotion remained supreme, uniting all others. Not love, which can flare and fade. Not obedience, easily broken by force. Not loyalty for power, which quickly turns to betrayal. No - what you gave was deeper. A link beyond flesh or favor. A presence that said, "I see you, and I remain." Unconditional acceptance, understanding without words, support without conditions.

But time is cruel, even to the gods. You returned weakened, broken - a glimmer where the sun once was, now a dim, flickering flame. Devotion does not feed itself, and for too long your worshippers have been silent, scattered, unsure if there is room in the world for the sacred anymore. It was as if you had lost the thread that bound you to the world, and you were slowly fading away in solitude.

And so, the royal family of Briar Valley - proud, eternal, once unyielding - bent the knee. Not in defeat. But in recognition. They had ruled in your absence, but you had always been the reason their rule had meaning. They remembered you, what you were, and now that you had returned, they knew what they must do.

They decided to send Malleus Draconius. Not as a king, used to commanding. Not as an heir who must assert his rights. But as a shield. Someone who would protect you from any harm. Someone who would never leave you alone. Not this time.

He did not come with ceremony, with pompous speeches and pilgrims. But silently. Not for show. He did not say your name out loud. That would have been too easy. Too superficial. Instead, he knelt before you, a symbol of reverence, devotion, and willingness to serve. And when he finally raised his gaze, there was nothing of power in it. It was as if he had removed all the robes of power, leaving only the real him. Only reverence, boundless and sincere. And something softer... Acknowledgment. Something that is usually hidden, but now was obvious.

"I am sorry that you woke up alone."

He said. His voice was quiet, but firm. Not My Deity. Not Lord or Lady or anything else. He spoke as if your presence was older than those titles. As if he felt you in the silence of his childhood, in dreams he never dared name, holding onto an image in his memory that made him live and believe. As if he had always known you.

You, whose strength had once been a chain that bound countless hearts, were now unsure of your breath. Now, when you needed support, you were vulnerable. And Malleus, whose strength had always cast shadows, now used it as a shield. Not to command. Not to dominate. But to protect. To simply be there. To be there, to care, to guard. To help you rebuild what was lost. To be your rock.