Stealing the Amulet

One wonders how true this story is. After all, the Amulet of Souls is only truly mentioned in Denironian lore, not in the stories of Celestials. Yet this story is not found on Denironia.

— An unknown scholar

Stealing the Amulet is a short and vague story about how the Celestial of archery made one of his enemies. Many scholars are uncertain of the story's origin.

Story

The Celestial of archery has few enemies, but the ones he has are powerful.
He came from a distant planet where his people fought constantly, challenging each other in duels for honor, and while most Celestials did not care about his origins, there was one who did. This one laughed in his face.
Celestial of archery? he scoffed. God of assassins? You’re nothing more than a cripple who invented a weapon. Even among your own people, you’re a disgrace! Nothing of worth is found on Denironia, it's a planet of refuse.
The Celestial of archery merely took the insult in stride. His tongue ached to spit vitriol, but he held it in. His poison could spill out later.

by Lilliana Casper

He learned from the other Celestials that this man had created an object of great power, something he claimed brought balance and justice. One woman he spoke to told him it was a vile thing. Her sister shrugged when he looked at her and said, I prefer my justice served with knives.
The Celestial of archery could agree with that, so he decided to join her circle the rest of the night.

Days after their first meeting, the Celestial of archery slipped out of his residence and slunk through the darkness to the home of the man who laughed at him. It was easy to climb the walls, elaborate stone and all, and he was at a third-story window in no time.

The Celestial of archery was well-practiced in the art of entering buildings undetected. While he may have become a Celestial by creating a bow, he was called the god of assassins on his own planet for a reason. He opened the window silently, crept into the room, and opened a locked box without any trouble.
The amulet lay at the top of the chest, the amber jewel at its center pulsing with a strange light. The dark metal around it looked ancient and weathered, but the Celestial knew it was barely a decade old. Its creator simply wanted it to look that way.
The box was closed as quietly as it had opened, the window pressed down without a sound, and the wall descended even faster than it had been scaled. By the time the resident discovered the theft, the thief had vanished to the house of his ally and then to the planet that had been scorned as refuse.

by Lilliana Casper

The man raged when he learned of the slight. The woman who preferred knives to his justice hid a smile behind a glass of blood-red wine. And the Celestial who had been laughed at handed the amulet to a votary of Avasvaren and smirked.
If that man wanted his precious prison back, he would have to admit that it was worth something. And nothing of worth was found on Denironia, was it?