The Path of the Gifted - RalexSol (2024)

Kim had never done anything quite as brave as when he let an arrow loose from his bow for the very first time.

It had been to kill a man. Piercing through his ear and shooting through the other side, the man collapsed dead on the floor. The second man followed shortly after. But it was for a good cause – freedom. And freedom was not something that could be achieved alone.

The visitor of Sildren was slouched against the white brick wall, blood dripping down through buzzed purple hair and into her eye. She was vaguely looking up in the man’s direction when he fell, her eyes narrowed as her whole body swayed. And yet, while she may have been vulnerable at that moment, Kim still found her to be a strong, intimidating figure. It was hard to take the soldier out of the woman.

Of course, even soldiers cannot break iron chains. Kim snatched the key ring from one of the fallen men’s belt before crouching beside the visitor and unlocking the cuffs.

“Are you alright?” he asked her softly. He wished he could wave a hand and make her pain dissipate. If only that weren’t utterly impossible.

“Augh,” she responded, wiping the blood from her eye and flicking her wrist. Bluish-white sparkles swirled around her body, and the gash on her head evaporated. The charming smile Kim had seen earlier that day returned to her face. “A little better now. Glad to see you again, Kim. How about we skedaddle from this sh*thole?”

“Uh,” was all Kim could splutter before the visitor was on her feet and checking the pockets of the dead men.

“These guys’ sh*t is – well, sh*t.” Despite her complaint, the visitor began unbuckling pieces of armor from their bodies. “I need my gear. Any idea where it is?”

This visitor is going to be the death of me. Kim cleared his throat, standing back up and nodding. “Ah, yes! But we’ll need the key to the room it’s being kept in. I’m sure we’ll find it somewhere. One of Kreo’s right-hand men might have it.”

The visitor – who’d been putting on the scavenged armor pieces – pulled the second boot onto her left foot. “Eh, doesn’t matter. As long as I have a bow and arrows, we’ll get that key easily. You ready to start your kill count?”

“Kill count?” He knew soldiers were used to death, but the nonchalance was striking.

“You’ll get there.” She snatched Kim’s bloody arrows off the ground and stuck them into her back pocket. “I’m Talmara Shadowsing, by the way. Not too good with magic other than healing, but I’m the Sanctum’s favorite soldier. You excited to be free?”

Although adrenaline was coursing through his veins and the terrifyingly high possibility of death laid in front of him, Kim could not help but smile back at Talmara. Because this was truly it. He’d been a slave for so long, and now the Gods had sent an angel to rescue him. If he made it out of this fortress alive, he would be free.

“Yes.” Kim felt breathless. “Yes, I am.”

The morning after Kim’s and Talmara’s return to the Arcane Sanctum was quiet. Kim awoke to soft murmurings between Arcanists out in the hall of the barracks. But their conversation did not matter; what did matter was the soft pillow beneath her head and the scratchy but warm blankets saving her from the morning chill.

After lounging in bed for an extra half hour, Kim finally wrenched herself from sweet sleep. She rummaged around the bedside end table until she found a hairbrush. As she pulled the hairbrush through the knots in her hair, she felt peace settle on her shoulders like the hands of her mother: guiding, reassuring.

There were a few loud knocks on the door that made Kim jump. “Yes?” she called out.

The door burst open. In a sleek armor set consisting of chainmail, leather, and a dashing green hood, Talmara plopped herself down next to Kim. The soldier lowered the hood, opening her mouth to immediately start rolling before she suddenly stopped.

Kim frowned at her. “What is it?”

“You’re different,” Talmara said tentatively, her eyes narrowing.

The comment caught Kim off guard. But after a few moments of processing, it clicked. “Oh!” Kim chuckled a little. “I’m a woman today. Sorry, that must be very confusing – is it just an Aeterna thing, then?”

Talmara’s expression remained confused. She tipped her head slightly, eyes scanning Kim closely. “…You can do that?”

“Not all Aeterna do. But I always have.”

They were sitting close together. Talmara’s knuckles were brushing against Kim’s fingertips. It made Kim feel as if her lungs were burning. This soldier who had saved Kim from certain lifelong suffering – she was sitting with her in this tiny bedroom asking her about womanhood, instead of gallivanting across the Middlerealm. From all the stories Talmara had prattled on about on their way to the Arcane Sanctum from Sildren, Kim knew that she loved gallivanting.

Talmara looked away, back at the door. “Huh. That’s pretty cool. Anyways – I just came to say that I’m off, and to make sure that you’ve settled in. I’m being sent to Erothin for a mission, some city guard that’s gifted like us was a no-show.”

“I’m settling in fine. When will you be back?”

“Don’t know. I’ll probably do some exploring on the way there and back, so could be a day, could be a week. You’ll be fine here – do some research, study, I’m sure you’ll feel right at home. Sorry I can’t give you a full introduction of the place. Don’t worry, you’ll have forgotten about me by the time I get back. Plenty of people to make friends with here.”

“I am very patient,” Kim breathed.

The grin returned to Talmara’s features. “I hope so. I’ll be seeing you, Kim.”

Without another word, she swept out of the room, leaving Kim on the bed with a hairbrush hanging from her forgotten hair.

“I hate this f*cking thing,” Talmara harumphed, swinging a glittering pirate rapier around on the top deck of the ship.

The sun was beginning to set in the west, casting the ocean waves in a gorgeous rainbow hue – mainly of reds and oranges, but deep indigos and violets were mixed in too. It was a painting ready to be created. Kim wished they were an artist.

Kim was standing with their back against the railing, sun reflecting off their gleaming black hair. They’d been watching Talmara practice with her newly acquired melee weapon for the better part of an hour now, after she’d recounted how she’d recovered it from a hidden pirate cove on the Salathin Coast. It was a beautiful rapier; with a golden hilt and a blade of shining steel, Kim almost wanted to take up sword-fighting themself.

They would never be as good as Talmara, of course. Even though she insisted she was horrible and could barely land a single blow, it was clear she was learning quickly. It seemed that whatever she set her mind to, she accomplished given enough time.

“If you hate it so much, why do you keep trying?” Kim pointed out.

“Because,” the soldier rolled her eyes, “if I don’t, I know some f*cking ghoul or skeleton hero is going to cut me down. I can’t exactly run away from my enemies in a circle forever. They’re gonna figure out my strategy eventually. Besides, as much as it hurts like a bitch, it’s more compelling to fight with a sword. I’m too good at sniping people now.”

Her bemoaning was adorable. Kim giggled, unable to keep the smile from their face. “Well, I can’t argue with that. If I am ever half the archer you are, I will be happy with myself. I am sure you will make a fine swordswoman someday, too.”

“Oh stop!” Talmara appeared at Kim’s side so quickly they could’ve sworn she teleported. She propped up against the wooden railing, leaning close and looking deep into their eyes. “You’re a great archer. I’ve just been doing it longer. Besides, while I’m in the field clearing the world of everything evil, you’re studying how to be a real mage. I mean, that was the whole point of joining the Order, right? If they had us taking classes, I’d be completely failing.”

Kim’s cheeks burned and they looked nearly everywhere except to meet Talmara’s strong, green gaze. “Well, they have everything you need to learn there, all I’m doing is reading books.”

“Really?” Talmara tipped her head, sheathing her sword. The fading sunlight was catching her hair in flame. “You haven’t made any friends? Not even a new partner?”

She really is trying to kill me! “No!” they sputtered. “I am too busy with my studies. Besides, it’s not like anyone would be interested in me, anyways. I have barely seen more than Sildren, and I have been almost nothing but a slave my whole life. I’m not that interesting.”

Talmara punched their arm lightly. “Oh, that’s bullsh*t. Surely you’ve got plenty of guys all over you. I bet there’s so many they make you drop your books from overcrowding.” She then paused before continuing. “Is it guys for you?”

The question stole Kim’s breath away. Now was a good time to drop a hint. “Oh, no! No, no, women. I like women. A lot. But none have ever approached me. I’ve only ever been single.”

They began to internally kick the sh*t out of themself. How could one f*ck up a single answer to a single question that badly? They might as well have grabbed Talmara and kissed her fully on the mouth.

But surprisingly, Talmara didn’t respond awkwardly. Instead, she nodded in understanding. “Haha, yeah, I get that. I’ve only ever messed around behind the abbey with a couple girls. ‘Problem with growing up in a religious spot is that everybody’s too busy praying – no time for kissing, not telling. And I’ve been too busy recently since joining the Order with saving the world. But yeah, women. They’re the light of my life, I tell you.”

Those two sentences echoed in Kim’s mind. But yeah, women. They’re the light of my life, I tell you. So, that was it, then. Because while sometimes Kim was a woman, many times – like that very moment – they were most certainly not.

The hope of a shot with Talmara disintegrated before their very eyes.

The sun had set behind them. Kim heaved a sigh and pushed away from the railing, leaving Talmara behind. “I think I am going to go to bed. I will see you in the morning, Tal.”

They didn’t look back as they climbed down towards the cabin door, but they heard a soft, “Good night, Kim,” behind them.

The conversation between Arkt and Narathzul was dragging on. Kim had barely been following what their mission was to begin with, but the pair of old revolutionaries were throwing insults at each other and making wild mentions of their pasts that she could hardly believe. Talmara was standing in front of her just as quietly, green hood up to mask her face.

It was when Kim thought the pair had only entered the next phase of their argument that Narathzul turned to Talmara and delivered his instructions. Kim listened intently, trying to make mental note of everything he said. Report to Merzul, defeat the Seraphim – she stood up a bit straighter, bracing herself for the mission quickly approaching.

Narathzul disappeared. Before Talmara and Kim could leave, Arkt snatched them back with a last comment. And then before Kim could even blink, Arkt had shot a spell into Talmara, and she was enveloped in white light.

Kim stared at the spot where her companion had been standing not a moment before. When she looked back at Arkt, the white light consumed her vision. She threw a hand over her eyes as she let out a short yelp. After a few moments though, upon feeling nothing change, she slowly lowered her hand.

The dark throne hall of Stormwend Tower had been replaced by pale stone bricks and open mountain air. Piles of gleaming snow shone in Kim’s eyes as her senses adjusted to the onslaught of new information.

Where the f*ck was she?

But more importantly – where the f*ck was Talmara?

Upon a wide, sweeping glance across the courtyard she now stood in, Kim realized with a horrific sinking feeling that Talmara was nowhere to be seen. And considering the difference of climate between her new location and Artkwend, Kim would believe it if Arkt had sent Talmara anywhere, from the Belt of Kilé to Enderal.

“Tal?” Kim called out anyways, her voice quavering. Her eyes were beginning to burn.

Kim’s angel could be dead. The thought of it sat in the pit of her stomach like a cannonball. Even as the silence pressed in against her skull, though, Kim tightened her fists and gritted her teeth.

Talmara Shadowsing is not dead – I am sure of it!

Two weeks passed of growing despondency. The weather only worsened with the darkening mood. Heavy snowstorms swirled outside, dramatic enough to force everyone to stay indoors, unable to cross even the Mountain Monastery’s courtyard. Candles burnt low and whistling chills wound downstairs from attics and found themselves nestling in the bones of the Arcanists.

It was a reliable fact that if anyone needed Kim for a menial task, the place to find them was in the entrance hall of the Monastery Hall. They found themself sitting on the floor adjacent to the front doors for hours on end, staring at the iron handles.

One day, Talmara Shadowsing would burst through the doors, just as suddenly as she had entered Kim’s life. Just as suddenly as she had stolen their heart.

Callisto seemed to have an endless supply of meaningless tasks to force them to attend to. But they always hurried back to wait. The older mage grumbled about their complacency purposefully within earshot, but they didn’t care. He could not understand why they waited.

But as the time drew longer, Kim’s exhaustion began to overtake their body. Physically, mentally, emotionally – every part of their soul begged to rest, to let go. How long could Kim hold on to hope before it killed them?

They were not going to give up on Talmara. If Kim was good at anything, it was staying loyal until the very bitter end.

Those two weeks passed, and the storms raged onwards. On the coldest, harshest night yet, the doors blew open to reveal a dark figure with a blue hood shadowing their face. A gust of snow swooped through the main hall, nearly knocking Kim over – while successfully tipping their hot cocoa into their lap – and blowing out every candle in sight.

Although the figure wore the unfamiliar blue hood and shimmering, black armor, Kim knew exactly who it was. The cup of cocoa shattered on the floor as Kim launched themself into the figure’s arms.

Talmara had rushed forward to meet them, and her grip on them suggested that she never wanted to let go.

“I thought you were still on that damned island!” she exclaimed in their ear. “I can’t believe it. I can’t believe it! You’re f*cking here! Oh, Kim, am I glad to see you. Gods, it’s good to see a friend again.”

Kim couldn’t breathe. They couldn’t think straight. They couldn’t stand on their own, and neither could Talmara, but they leaned on each other in the open doorway. The cold didn’t matter, because they were both alive and they had each other once more.

“Arkt sent me here,” Kim finally managed to choke out through joyful tears. “I knew you would come. So, I waited. I did not give up hope. And now, here you are! But after so long! Where in Vyn have you been all this time?”

“Traveling.” Talmara’s hold on them still had not given. “Far across the Middlerealm. I think I might’ve seen its entirety by now. I went all the way past the Eastern Mountain Range, back to Waverock again! But I took the northern route, through the Forest of Salathin and past Kap Aman. I knew I wasn’t prepared to slip past Barateon’s troops in Cahbaet without further experience. Kim, you will not believe the things I have seen.”

A booming voice shook the pair enough to make them topple against the doorframe. “Will you shut the goddamn door? You’re asking for us all to get a chill and die! And now the carpet is soaked – hurry up!”

There was Callisto, standing behind them with a sour expression and his arms crossed. Kim spluttered apologies as they quickly ripped themself from Talmara and swung the doors shut. The room settled once more, although it was indeed quite colder than before Talmara’s return. That didn’t matter – Kim’s heart felt warmer than ever.

“And who might you be?” Callisto demanded.

Talmara’s posture stiffened as Kim watched the soldier brighten in her eyes. “Talmara Shadowsing. Merzul sent me to speak with Callisto.”

“And?”

Her fist clenched at her side. “He’s dead. The Arcane Sanctum fell, and we were captured by Barateon. In the escape, he was unable to follow me. I saw his body hanging in the market square of Erothin myself.”

The Arcane Sanctum, gone? Kim felt their mouth go dry. They had spent weeks in those halls, relishing newfound freedom, learning everything they could about healing and archery. On good days, Talmara stopped by to sell gear and spend the day with them. The memory of sitting beneath the large dome at the center of the Sanctum with her, enraptured in her tales of adventure, was as clear as if it had happened yesterday.

All that was good in the world of Vyn seemed to have an expiration date.

And Merzul – Merzul. One of Kim’s teachers, a kind, steady hand. He was gone, too. And if Merzul was dead, then so was everyone else who had lived at the Sanctum. The weight of grief knocked the breath out of Kim.

That night – after Barateon’s soldiers were defeated outside the Mountain Monastery and Callisto had informed Talmara and Kim that they would be separated yet again –, they bunked in the same room.

Kim laid on their side, staring across the gap between them and Talmara. Talmara stared back, appearing almost naked without the layers of armor Kim had grown used to seeing her in. Instead, she was wearing a soft white shirt and regular pants. For once she looked normal, no longer the hero whose strength knew no bounds.

“Are you okay?” Kim asked her quietly.

Talmara didn’t respond immediately. She took a long breath before finally saying, “I’ve killed so many people, but I’ve never seen someone die before.”

“What do you mean?”

She turned onto her back, glaring up at the underside of the empty bunk above her. “I’ve taken a lot of lives, Kim. But that’s just it; it’s my doing. It’s never been something taking someone from me. But the tunnel collapsed on Merzul, and that was his death sentence. I didn’t want him to die, but he did anyway.”

The little girl from Ledur looked back at Kim. Her whole body trembled and tears glistened in her eyes, but they did not spill. Silently, Kim gestured for her to come over. With lightning speed, Talmara plopped herself beside them, wrapping them in yet another strangling hug.

“You don’t know how happy I am that you’re still alive,” she whispered.

All Kim wanted to do was to soothe her agony. So, deep into the night, they held her close and washed her with healing magic. It might not have had any real effects, but they hoped the warmth and thought of it was enough to ease Talmara’s path to sleep.

Inciting the farmers outside of Erothin to revolt was a hard task – especially because Kim was an Aeterna. Initially, none of them trusted them. But kindness and diligence proved to be the winning play, and soon the peasants came around to the idea of sticking it to the man.

It was storming by the time the crowd reached the front gates of Erothin. Thoroughly soaked and having just spoken to Narel about the details of their plan, Kim was now waiting for further orders. Surely, Callisto would arrive soon? The hope of a certain someone accompanying him burned in their soul.

And then, there she was. In slim, purple leather armor with about a hundred buckled straps and a matching hood shadowing her face, Talmara Shadowsing was jogging towards the revolutionaries through the crashing rain.

“Tal!” Kim shouted, running up to meet her. They weren’t sure whether to crush her in a hug or kiss her. It had been too long since that cuddly night at the Mountain Monastery – they didn’t know where the pair stood. So, they instead opted to awkwardly stand in front of her. “You’re finally here! Praise the Gods!”

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world!” Talmara yelled back, despite being just a foot away. She lowered her hood, although Kim couldn’t imagine why in this weather. “I can’t wait to kick Barateon’s ass! It’s really good to see you, Kim.”

Everything they’d heard from Narel and his friends rushed back into Kim’s mind. “Is it true? Did you release Narathzul Arantheal?”

“Yeah! Gods, it took a while. Treomar was a mess, and then I had to go all the way back to Waverock just to set the damn guy free! He’s a bitchy know-it-all, but hey, he’s the only one who’s gonna get all this sh*t done, so I can’t blame him.”

The woman standing before Kim had done the impossible, and she was talking about it like it had been nothing. How did she not know how amazing she was? How did she not understand the weight of her words and actions?

“You’re incredible,” Kim breathed before they could think twice.

Her perfect grin was enough to make their heart burst. “Thanks. You are too, y’know.”

The eerie voice echoing through the corridors of the Creator’s Temple was starting to unnerve Kim. He and Talmara had been making their way through the winding hallways and expansive passages, but they did not seem to be approaching anywhere near their destination. Narathzul had sent them on a mission to retrieve the Predestination of the Tel’Imaltath, and it had yet to show its face.

It was slightly shocking to see Talmara at work. It had been a long time since Kim had seen her fight – not since the fight outside the Mountain Monastery, in fact. Although, he couldn’t claim to actually see her fight.

She was the darkness that followed one’s footsteps, the breath that sent a chill down one’s spine. She was the fleeting caress of a lover leaving before one woke, the hare dashing across the countryside. Even if one was lucky enough to see her – which they almost never were – you would never be able to catch her. No, the closet one would ever get to Talmara Shadowsing was through the arrow in their skull or the blade in their back.

The amount of times Kim began to feel lost only for her to suddenly appear at his side was slightly exasperating. How did she do it? How did she blend into the night like she was born from its depthless waters? Her whispers in his ear guiding him which way to go were certainly welcome, though.

While Talmara’s skill with a bow wasn’t anything new, her growing knowledge of the blade was entrancing. Once during their descent into the temple, a paladin did notice her. What followed was a dance of steel and grace. The paladin swung; she parried. They blocked; she crashed her sword straight through them. The powerful finesse behind her tall but lean frame was beautiful. She made violence a painting.

In fact, it was mercy. The souls of the paladins were redeemed every time she defeated them. They needed to die. Kim ignored the uneasy question that formed in the back of his mind. Did the others that she’s killed – the ones she’s trained on for the past weeks since joining the Order – did they need to die, too?

“I’m still not that good with this thing,” Talmara insisted after finishing the paladin off. She stepped back to Kim, who had simply watched; she hardly needed his assistance in battle. “I found this sword here in the Northrealm, past Sarnor, in a dragon cave. I call it Grave Edge. Isn’t it cool?”

It was a sleek sword, finely detailed and lightweight in appearance. The miniscule edge of the blade explained its name clearly. It was a fine weapon, if weapons could be considered good things at all.

“You’re very good with it,” Kim reassured her. “Have you been practicing a lot?”

“A lot?” Talmara laughed, her joy bouncing into every crevice of the temple. “I’ve hardly touched my bow in three weeks! It’s a pain in the ass, but you do what you gotta do. At least it’s more rewarding than shooting ten guys in a row in the head and calling it a day.”

They resumed their pace through the temple, although noticeably more relaxed. Talmara wasn’t even crouching anymore. Crossing a bridge over glowing red lava, Kim asked, “Aren’t we supposed to be stealthy right now?”

“Nah,” Talmara shrugged. “I think we’re nearing the end of this place. Once you comb through enough caves and fortresses, you sorta get a feel for that. Besides, I’m tired of not talking to you. We’ve hardly gotten to chat recently. I really miss it. After this, we’re so going to that tavern in Sarnor and getting a drink. Gods know I need one.”

The conversation cut off abruptly as they entered the tunnel on the other side of the bridge and the ceiling began to shake above them. With a crash and a skipped heartbeat, boulders cascaded around the pair, throwing them into utter darkness.

One of Kim’s arms was smashed between two boulders, and he cried out in pain. One of his feet was pinned beneath another rock. In the darkness, he couldn’t see Talmara. “Tal?” he gasped, coughing up dirt. “Tal, are you alright? Gods, please tell me you’re alright.”

“f*ck me, man,” came her response. She was just in front of him, maybe by a few feet. “Yeah, I’m f*cking alright – are you okay? You didn’t sound okay just then.”

“I’m – fine.” Kim gritted his teeth against the agonizing, throbbing pain in his arm.

“Shut the f*ck up. Here, let me.”

Two fingers strained forward and brushed his neck. Bluish-white magic twisted around Talmara’s hand and curled around him. The pain eased, and he let out a heaving breath that he’d forgotten he was holding onto.

She let her hand drop back down. What I would give for her to do that again… “That better?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

There was a long moment of silence before Kim couldn’t hold back the words bubbling up in his throat. “Oh, Tal… how are we going to get out of here? We need to get out! Gah, damn it! We’ll find a way out, right? Please, Tal, you must know a way.”

A grunt of frustration came from her direction. “Hold on a second! Just let me think.”

He couldn’t help it, though. Terror was scorching his veins, along with horrifying guilt. If he hadn’t distracted Talmara, she would’ve noticed the unstable tunnel and found a way to navigate it without getting trapped. This was all his fault. “Oh Gods… you and I – is this how we die? No… you’ll figure it out, I know it. I know you will.”

“Kim, calm down. I promise we’ll get out of here. I just need to – hm, I have some fire traps in my pack, but… nah, that’d just blow us sky high. Feel like being cooked into roast beef?”

Of course she’d make jokes, even in the direst situation. Because Talmara was wonderful, and she always made sure that Kim was okay. She always tried to make him smile. A tear slipped down his face. He didn’t want to die, but more importantly, he didn’t want to lose her.

“If…” his voice quavered as he spoke, “…if we die here – which I know you won’t let happen, but… oh Tal, I’m not good at this…”

Fingers attempted to slap his face, but merely brushed his chin. “Shut up! We’re not dying here. No desolate speeches, alright? Seriously, you keep saying I’m gonna figure this out, but you’re not inspiring much confidence.”

“Please, Tal.” Kim knew she didn’t reciprocate, but if he died without spitting out how he felt, well – he might as well die a second time. “Look, I’ve admired what you do ever since you saved me from Sildren. And… and you’re very… you’re so interesting, and I love listening to all your stories.”

There were no interruptions. The immobility was starting to drive him mad, and he strained against the rocks. But he continued on, squeezing his eyes shut as tears brimmed in his eyes. “I like you a lot, Tal. I just wanted to say that… well…”

Kim’s free hand suddenly touched something that felt vastly different from everything else. Not harsh rock, but not the regular brick wall either. It was a cylindric object, and Kim could only draw one conclusion. It stopped his spiel in its tracks. “Wait! I’ve found something! I think it’s some kind of lever, hold on.”

Wrenching himself closer to the lever, he managed to yank it down. Before he could open his mouth to speak again, the rocks beneath him were gone, and he was free-falling.

Tumbling down rocks and earning more than a few large bruises, Kim finally rolled into cold, white light. He couldn’t help but groan, slowly pushing himself back onto his hands and knees. Next to him was Talmara, who was lying face-down on the gray stone floor.

Kim pulled her up alongside him. “Sorry about that. I did not realize it would work so fast! I guess I was the one to figure out our escape.” He bathed her in healing magic multiple times over, even though it was unnecessary.

The emotion in her face was hard to read. Talmara wouldn’t look him in the eye, but she leaned into his touch as his hands grazed over her shoulders and arms. When he was finished and began to pull away, she reached out and put a hand on his own shoulder. “Hey, don’t forget about yourself.”

Her touch made his cheeks burn. Once again, magic seeped from Talmara’s hand and dulled the aching and exhaustion of adventure. Vaguely, he wondered if she had thought any deeper about his words from earlier, but he couldn’t dare to bring it back up himself.

“I really appreciate you, Kim,” Talmara murmured. She still didn’t meet his gaze. “Thank you for being such a good friend. I try my best to be one for you, too.”

And without another word, she retracted her hand and walked towards the end of the chapel they now found themselves in, towards a kneeling man with a sword in his grip.

“Tal, why won’t you let me heal you?”

Kim was trailing after her companion in the deserts of the Southrealm. Earlier that day, Callisto had blown them off after getting that poor Order spy killed. Kim remained resolute in her opinion that the violence had been unnecessary. He’s such a jerk!

But now – after a dangerous run-in with a rather appallingly ugly goblin – Talmara was refusing to let Kim heal her. Instead, the soldier was sprinting ahead, constantly casting her own healing magic. It seemed quite tedious, and it was all Kim could want to be close to her again like they had been in the Creator’s Temple.

“I’m training!” Talmara insisted, conquering a large rock further ahead on the cobblestone path. “This is the only way I’ll get better at healing magic.”

Kim jogged to catch up, halting at the rock’s base. The sun created a halo behind Talmara’s head. “Oh please, you only ever use that one spell. And you used to let me help all the time.”

“Yeah, I was being lazy before.” She hopped down and resumed their course onwards. “Trust me, I’m fine, Kim. C’mon, I wanna get to Ostian before the bakery closes.”

Finally, something they could agree on. Imagining the sweet pastries lying ahead that Talmara would be paying for – because she was so rich and refused to let anyone else pay for anything ever –, Kim followed closely behind.

The pair ended up on the docks of the Ostian Harbor, just outside their “secret” base. Feet swinging just above the ocean waters, Kim took another bite of her orange pastry. It was absolutely delicious; surely, not even in the whole rest of Nehrim was there any baked good like it. The Southrealm truly had pastries figured out.

Talmara’s conversation starter nearly made her choke on it. “Y’know, I’m surprised you haven’t found a partner yet. What’s the deal?”

Taking a moment to swallow and breathe, Kim finally responded as averagely as possible. “There has not been any time. I am too busy stopping evil to settle down. What about you? You have been all over, I am sure you have met someone.”

Talmara leaned back and stared up at the sky. “I don’t know. I’m starting to wonder about something actually.”

Kim didn’t hesitate to lie down beside her. “What’s that?”

“If I only like women. I mean, up until recently, I haven’t been outside Tirin Abbey much. Maybe I just never met a non-woman I liked before.”

The setting sun halted in the sky. Every head passing through the harbor whipped around to stare at them. Chattering stopped, and the world held its breath. Well, it felt like all that happened.

All Kim could say was, “Oh?”

“Why limit myself?” Talmara turned onto her side to face Kim. “I don’t know… I’m still figuring it out. It’s not really the most pressing issue at the moment, either. I think I’m allowed some slack when we’re trying to overthrow an entire government down here. Seriously, who knew espionage was this difficult?”

Unease welled up in the pit of Kim’s stomach. Overthrowing a government wasn’t exactly what she’d had in mind when she joined the Order – not that she’d had much of a choice about refusing them. While the people controlling the Southrealm were clearly bending the Gods’ will to purposefully hurt their citizens, it still felt odd. How many wars would the Order start or finish? They’d already conquered Erothin. And had anyone planned for who would take the current Southrealm government’s place after all was said and done?

“Do you… enjoy killing people?” she couldn’t help but ask. She needed to know the answer to the question that had been burning in the back of her skull for months now.

Her companion faintly sighed. “Pfft, I don’t know, Kim. The only people I kill are the ones looking to pick a fight. Bandits, cultists, people who pull a sword out upon seeing me. If they start it, I’ll end it.”

“I did not ask you who you killed. I said do you enjoy it.”

There was a long pause. “It’s an art. I find the ability to express myself through my methods. But to an artist, it doesn’t matter whether or not they enjoy it. All that matters is that they have to create art, or they’ll wither away into nothing.”

Could Kim really pass judgement on the angel who had saved her life? But how many lives had needed to be saved from Talmara? Kim had always thought her to be an elegant performer in combat. But not all beautiful things are kind. Grave Edge was sharper than any other blade, and the tips of Talmara’s silver arrows drew blood from a single nick. Both were well-crafted and graceful; both had ended too many lives to count.

Kim did not care for death and destruction. But the injustice and horrors that Talmara was brave enough to confront – surely it was a worthy endeavor? How different was the blood of the victim from the blood of the villain?

“Callisto was responsible for that agent’s death,” Kim pondered aloud. “Is he an artist too, or is he just like the villains we’re trying to stop?”

She now turned to face Talmara. Their breaths mingled, noses inches away from touching. Talmara’s shifty green eyes locked with Kim’s. But the usual butterflies did not excite in Kim’s stomach; instead, she could only feel troubled about the future.

Talmara gently intertwined their fingers between them. “I think we’re gonna find out.”

Emotions and confusion were rattling Kim to his core. The past few minutes had held more thoughts and actions than he had experienced in his entire life. The city of Ostian was burning, their temple to the Gods was in shambles, and Lord Janus had been slaughtered in the fray of rebellion. Kim had watched Talmara cut through the soldiers they had worked so hard to protect via poison. Narathzul had said he didn’t want anyone to die. So, what was all that for?

It was after Lord Janus’s death that Kim finally understood it all. Narathzul’s plan – the whole goal of the Order – was to kill the Light-Born. The Gods who Kim had worshipped since he was a young child, when his father would whip it into him. The Gods who had been there for him in the years he suffered under Kreo. The Gods he’d thanked for Talmara’s arrival.

The quest made him mad. Who gave the Order the right to choose? Kim didn’t want the Gods dead, and he knew that most of the populace was of the same opinion. The Gods had been with Nehrim and the entire rest of Vyn since the beginning. So, how was Narathzul allowed to pursue such a grave task?

When he voiced his concerns to Talmara, her face shadowed and the outline of her hood aglow from the burning temple behind her, his blood grew cold. She had known the whole time – she had to have known. Talmara was certainly an artist, but artists were not clean from sin.

He didn’t understand it. She had grown up in an abbey; why had she turned from the Gods? Why had she so doggedly followed the whims of Narathzul, been so eager to obey his every command?

Even though he did not understand, he still cared for her more than anything in the world. And as the words spilled from his mouth, the doubts about the Order and Narathzul, he wondered if she was about to make him her finest masterpiece yet. Kim would not blame her. He would beg her to reconsider, but he would not turn away from her.

But as Talmara stared at him with the darkened, broken eyes that only showed when she thought nobody was looking, Kim saw the figure of Narathzul appear behind her. His heart sank as he looked away from Talmara. “Oh, no… he is here.”

In the throne hall of Erothin, Narathzul laid his full plan bare. “Let us get the Creator’s head!” He claimed that the Gods were no more than trickster mages, and he wanted them all dead. The trio would travel to Stormwend to slay their masters.

Seething fury roiled in Kim’s ears. You do not have the right to decide that for us all!

“No…” Kim objected as Narathzul summoned a portal that could only lead towards irrevocable wickedness. “You’re wrong! You… can’t! You can’t! I can’t!”

Legs uneasy and stomach queasy, he found himself fleeing. What else was there to do? He had to get away from that f*cking bastard Narathzul. The portal had blinded Kim, and the throne hall’s red aura had given him a headache. Talmara’s utter silence in the face of her commander had been too horrible to witness.

A good soldier never disobeys orders.

Faintly, as he pushed open the doors to escape, he heard Narathzul speak. “Let him – Talmara! Let him go!”

Crashing through the castle, Kim finally found his way to the courtyard. Further – he had to get further away. Away from the war raging inside his head, away from the end of the world. Everything was about to change, and he prayed to the Gods that they would spare him when the day of reckoning came.

There was a seedling of doubt embedded in his heart now, though, that he would never be able to remove. What if Narathzul is right? What if the Gods, too, are merely oppressors?

Stumbling out the castle gates, he rushed to the wrought iron fence overlooking the river. Kim gripped the metal to hold himself steady, taking in heaving breaths. He just wished someone would explain it all to him – make it make sense, without lying to him.

“Kim.” Was she his follower now? “I understand why you’re mad. Will you please listen to me?”

Kim whipped around to face Talmara. The emotionless look on her face made the bitterness welling inside him slip out. “Why did you not tell me? You let me go on helping the Order, when you knew that if I had known what we were really doing, I would have disagreed. You let me believe in a lie.”

“We’re not a lie.” Talmara tried to step closer, but Kim kept his distance, moving further down the railing. “I didn’t tell you because I wanted you to stay. You’re the only person I’ve ever trusted, and if you hadn’t been there for me, I… I don’t know what I would’ve done.” Her face contorted into… something. He had never seen her wear a face like that before. “I know I’m selfish. I steal, I murder, I destroy. It’s all I’ve ever known how to do. But this time, destroying is the right thing to do. The Gods are evil.”

“Why?” Kim begged, his tone still sharp. “What makes them evil? The people we have stopped so far have only abused the words of the Light-Born for their advantage. The Gods themselves have done nothing wrong! All Narathzul wants is power, can’t you see?”

“I can! And that’s why I’m not going to let him take control either! I don’t know how, but I will make sure that in the end, Narathzul doesn’t abuse his power as the Shadowgod.”

Kim slid to the ground, his back against the fence, and pulled his knees up to his chest. “Oh Gods… I wish it were you, Talmara. If there was anyone that would have control over the world, I would wish it to be you. Because I know you feel, even if you try not to show it. You have seen the light and dark, the people and the world. I think you would know better how to rule Nehrim having traveled every mile of it than Narathzul, who has been in a cell for the past thousand years.”

He watched her feet approach him. Talmara squatted down beside him and gently took hold of his chin, guiding him to look at her. “I’m an artist, not a politician. A soldier, not a general. At the end of the day, I won’t stand for injustice, but when the war is over, I won’t rule the wreckage either. If I took control, I’d lose those feelings, as anyone corrupted by power does. And I don’t want to stop caring about you.”

The anger faded as quickly as it had roared its ugly head. All Kim felt now was exhaustion. He didn’t want to fight anymore. He wanted to sit in the Ostian Harbor with Talmara again, every day until the last.

“I can’t go with you,” he whispered, still in her grip. Her wide eyes glimmered back. “I will not kill the Light-Born. But I know it is useless to convince you. Will you at least tell me why you will not spare them?”

Talmara’s expression morphed back into stone, and she let go of his face. Taking a few moments to think, she sat down next to him. “My parents,” she said. “My home. The Gods let it all burn. And after spending the rest of my childhood in that f*cking abbey, I know the truth behind all the lies we’re told. They don’t care about us. They, just like Narathzul, are simply powerful Arcanists that decided they were going be in charge. I won’t follow the destiny they’ve laid out before me. I’ve seen the world, Kim, and I won’t let any more of the innocents who inhabit it get hurt.”

A wordless agreement passed between them. Kim let his eyes slip closed. He could do nothing else but give in. Talmara Shadowsing would be at Narathzul Arantheal’s side when he slayed the Gods, and nothing could stop them. All Kim could hope for was that the world would be a kind, free place in the aftermath.

A warm hand took his own. “You’ll be here when I get back, promise?”

“Always.” Kim tightened his grip.

Mists curled around thick tree trunks, their bark hues of dark maroon and muddy black. The bushes and undergrowth shook with anticipation and cold, shrinking from the world like scared animals – of which there were none, nor of particularly brave animals, either. There was not a single bird’s song piercing through the damp early hours of this day; not a frolicking fawn or a fleeing rabbit; not one creeping spider, stalking for its breakfast.

Mud had coated Kim’s boots, and chilling sweat was dripping down the back of her neck. She didn’t know how she’d gotten here, nor where exactly here was. The mist blocked her vision of more than twenty feet in any direction. She spun in a few circles, whipping her head around to get a good look at everything.

“Hello?” she called out. Her voice was strangely muffled when she’d expected it to echo into the unknown.

A twig snapped behind her. She whirled to face the cause, adrenaline spiking through her heart.

There was now a man standing before her. Except, he wasn’t a man; he appeared to be an Aeterna, with long ears and silky, flowing, white hair that shadowed the right side of his face. Adorned with nearly the same armor that Kim wore herself, the Aeterna didn’t seem to fit it fully. His face was gaunt with age, skin clinging to his cheekbones as if he should’ve been a corpse long ago. Blue eyes pierced through Kim’s soul akin to needles.

“Kim,” he rumbled, the flora around him quivering from his sheer power. “You must listen to me at once. I am your God, Tyr. Tell me you have not yet forsaken me, too.”

Tyr? Her mouth went slack. Slowly, she fumbled onto her knees. “Oh, Tyr! Praise be! What am I to do so that I may repay you for blessing me with the sight of a Light-Born? You are every bit as majestic and incredible as I ever imagined – and so much more! Please, tell me!”

The God put a heavy hand on her bowed head. “Your dear friend, Talmara Shadowsing, has murdered all your Gods but me and Irlanda. We have escaped to Inodan, but she follows close behind. She will be the end of your sacred peace. There will be war; infighting among countries, people clawing their way to fill the power vacuum left behind in the Light-Borns’ wake.”

Kim swallowed hard, her head held in place by Tyr’s iron grip. She could not look away when she noticed that there were maggots writhing in the mud where she kneeled.

“If you wish to protect your last Gods and the entire world of Vyn,” Tyr leaned forward to hiss in her ear, “you must follow her to Inodan and convince her to stop her quest. Only you can do this. She and Arkt will meet with the Starlings in the city of Anku, using their flying ship to reach us at Inodan. You must slip aboard and either speak to her on the ship or in the city. Do not delay for too long, though. You must not be late.”

She still could not move. The maggots were investigating her knees, and fear embedded itself in her eyes. “My dear God,” she whispered, “and if she will not listen?”

“You must kill her,” Tyr concluded. “You shall kill the Tel’Imaltath.”

Inodan was lonely. Its pristine stone architecture was too clean to have been lived in, at least in recent memory. Who had built this fort? Had it always been inhabited by the Light-Born, or had they simply settled down after the previous culture was blown away into the sky? The amount of history that could be read in gray bricks and slim, quivering trees that were frightened of heights was awe-inspiring.

There were bodies every so often. Kim would fine their blood staining the perfect stone, both dried and wet. Some they would hear Talmara cutting down, and others they saw her discover already dead. Soldiers of the Light-Born were not easily defeated, but Talmara’s blade was quicker than courage. Not one emotion passed over her solemn face as they made their way through Inodan. Where they were going, Kim did not know, but Talmara certainly did. She did not hesitate in pushing forward.

This was not how Kim had intended their mission to go. After riding a horse halfway across the Northrealm to reach Anku before Talmara and Akrt set off for Inodan, they had planned to speak to her on the Fat Erwin. But every attempt to summon the nerve to confront her had failed; they would take a deep breath in front of her bedroom door before turning away and returning to the cold depths of lower decks. Upon reaching their Inodan, Kim had decided to wait even longer, instead following Talmara through the tall streets and trying not to think about how high above Erothin they were standing.

Kim didn’t know what to do. No, that was a lie – they knew exactly what they needed to do. The issue was that they didn’t want to do it. They didn’t want to argue with Talmara, didn’t want to stand in her way. Truth be told, they no longer knew whether she would draw her sword on them or not.

Tyr had not mentioned Narathzul, only Talmara and Arkt. Talmara had killed the Light-Born. Talmara would end the world as they knew it. Kim was not surprised it had come to that. She had been the one doing all the dirty work, the one to actually enact every battle, revolution, escape, and subterfuge. It was only fitting that Talmara would be the one to finish the quest.

“If there was anyone that would have control over the world, I would wish it to be you,” Kim had said. They couldn’t help but choke by simply thinking about those words now.

So, Kim watched as Talmara cut down all opposition and solved strange puzzles. The words in their throat died and their legs grew shaky. All they wanted was to be back in Ostian, with the Order’s goal far ahead and unimportant.

But eventually, the call to action was unignorable. The angel began to walk over empty air, towards where a lone, otherworldly figure stood and waited. If Kim dallied a moment more, they would be too late.

Talmara and Tyr were having a conversation on the lone citadel. As Kim sprinted up invisible stairs, Talmara began to pull her sword from its sheath, the same grim determination set into her jaw as had been the entire journey through Inodan, through the freeing of Ostian, through every mission and battle, through slaughtering the man Kim had once called Master.

“Stop!” Kim objected, throwing themself in front of Tyr. “Tal, stop!”

The unfamiliar blade she wielded paused against their neck. They swallowed hard, eyes flickering between the weapon that emanated magic and their companion.

“What are you doing here, Kim?” Talmara’s eyes widened. She lowered the sword, but it remained hanging by her side, at the ready.

How could they possibly answer that? Because Tyr sent me a vision and told me to kill you? I’m here to prevent you from finally achieving the culmination of everything you’ve worked for? I don’t want you to be alone when this is finished?

Kim didn’t budge from where they stood. “I cannot let you kill him, Tal. You have done it – you have ended the reign of the Light-Born. They are all dead except for him now. There is no reason to shed any more blood. Please stop.”

Talmara stared at them. The sword in her right hand began to tremble. Water gleamed in her eyes. For once, Kim could read her like an open book.

It was then that they realized how truly broken she was. Her purple leather armor was torn and battered, her slim frame appeared more fragile than lithe, and she swayed on her feet. Her eyes had dark shadows under them, and her brown skin had taken on a pasty hue. This was a woman who was crumbling before their eyes.

“Why can’t you understand?” Talmara whispered. “The Light-Born – Tyr included – have hurt so many people, have let so many injustices slide. Don’t you get it, Kim? They let you be a slave. You say they helped you through your horrible life – but why didn’t they free you from Kreo? Or any of his other slaves, what about them? What about all the slaves on Nehrim? What about the people who died in fruitless wars for false causes? The famines, the diseases, the cruelty, the lies – if the Light-Born cared about their denizens, why didn’t they save them all?”

Kim took a deep breath. “That does not mean you have to do the same to Tyr.”

“The same?” She took a step closer to them, and for the first time, they felt nervous about it. “I’ll kill Tyr with a single blow. His suffering won’t be long. The atrocities he’s committed far outweigh my killing of him. He deserves it. They all did.”

“And when it’s you?” they argued. “When this happens again, when you stand in his place, will you not ask for mercy? Tal, you will be the new Light-Born. Let him live, so that you might too in the future when it’s your turn.”

A heartless laugh choked out of her throat. She looked up at the ceiling. “If I’m a horrible enough God to warrant a revolution, then I’d also deserve to die. Let them kill me, Kim. This game is about justice, and I’ll play my part like everyone wants me to. This has to end.”

“That’s not fair! I will not let you ruin yourself! You didn’t ask for any of this, we both know that!”

“It doesn’t change anything if I kill him, Kim! I’ll still get his power, I’ll still be in charge. So, I don’t f*cking care if it’s the moral thing to do, I want this guy f*cking dead! He ruined your life, and he killed my parents!”

The outburst made them flinch. Confusion followed by sorrowful realization washed over Kim. They’d guessed that Talmara’s parents weren’t around anymore in one way or another, but they hadn’t thought she cared. “What?”

“I blocked it all out.” Talmara met their gaze again, but now, her eyes were aflame. “But when Merzul found me and told me to head to the Arcane Sanctum, I discovered an old drawing in my stuff while I was packing. I followed a paper trail of clues until I reached Ledur. I told you I was from there. What I didn’t say was that it was all gone. Burned by bandits, slavers, who knows – and I was the only one who they left behind. They took my parents and left me with nothing. I know they’re dead or worse. Guess who could’ve saved them? The Light-Born. But they did nothing but watch as I rotted away in that abbey, friendless, purposeless, ready and waiting to f*cking die because it all meant nothing!”

The wind was blowing strongly through the citadel; it snatched Kim’s breath away and brought tears to their eyes. Crossing the last step between them, they enveloped Talmara’s shaking body into a powerful hug.

A silence hung in the air. Not a breath nor word passed the time. The only sounds were the fierce wind trying to rip them apart and the loud clang! of Talmara’s new sword hitting the cold stone beneath them.

She clung onto them desperately, sobs wrenching themselves from her chest. “I don’t want to be the Shadowgod. I’m not meant to be in charge. I’m just a soldier. This was supposed to be Narathzul, for f*ck’s sake – all I want is for everyone to be free. Free from the Gods, free from wasting their time praying and loving those that will never care for them back.”

Kim wasn’t sure what to think anymore. The part of them that their father had beaten into them screamed to kill Talmara, to protect the last of their precious Gods. But the part of them that loved Talmara, the one that had been saved by their angel, the one that had held her in the Mountain Monastery, the one that wanted to support everything she ever did, that knew her more than anyone could know anyone, that knew she’d only ever wanted to make things better… It murmured an undeniable truth that Kim could no longer ignore.

“All I want,” Talmara pulled away slightly, enough to look into the depths of Kim’s soul, “is you. I’ve seen the whole of Nehrim, and none of it was better than when I got to tell you all about it. I don’t want to be a soldier anymore, or an artist. I just want you with me.”

Their heart skipped a hundred beats. Breathing in her exhales, they whispered, “Oh, Tal, that’s all I want too, but – but if you truly want that, you have to let it go. You cannot kill Tyr. You cannot let the cycle of violence ruin you. You said it yourself – it doesn’t matter whether you kill him or not. If you don’t want to be an artist, put down the paintbrush. If not for yourself, for me. Please.”

They finally understood. Talmara was right – the Light-Born were not the just Gods that Kim’s father had forced them to believe in. The Light-Born deserved to be dethroned, to be forgotten for all of time. But the bloodshed had to come to an end at some point. Was it not the villain who killed all who oppose them and then rewrote history to paint themself as the hero? If one acted truly as a hero, and the people were told the utter truth, the people would see the light as it was.

It was lies and perpetuation of violence that were the downfall of civilization. For every guilty man who walked free from a fair trial, there were a hundred innocents saved from misassumptions and false claims. There were far more good people in the world than bad. Why add oneself to the minority?

Talmara nodded slightly, her whole body still quavering. The wind roaring around the pair, she cupped Kim’s cheek in her elegant hand. “Okay. For you.”

Without another word, she leaned down and kissed them.

Kim had imagined this moment to freeze the world around them, envisioned lights and colors, because their love was so powerful. Because if they had the ability to end the world, surely they could pause it, too?

The wind continued to swirl around them, though. Tyr still waited with bated breath for the final decision. But the only things that mattered were Talmara’s lips on theirs, her hands on their face and neck, and the gushing of love that neither of them could contain for any longer.

When Talmara pulled away – just by a hair – she murmured against their mouth, “I like that nickname. Tal.”

They couldn’t help but giggle. “Well, I would hope so. I have been calling you that for months.”

Their angel pressed one last, soft kiss on their cheek before letting them go and facing Tyr. The God was stone-faced, silky white hair blowing into his eyes. Did he watch us the whole time? Yuck.

Talmara narrowed her eyes at him. “If you ever make a move to gain any sort of power ever again – any at all – I will find you and I will kill you.” She marched towards him, sneering in his face. “I’ll make you my final work of art, do you understand? I’ll display you in Erothin for every innocent life you have taken advantage of to throw tomatoes at you. You will starve and bake under the sun, and every day I’ll paint more blood and bruises on you. And only after it’s settled in you for a long time that you’re just as important as the dirt you walk on will I grant you mercy.”

Tyr nodded silently, closing his eyes – but Talmara wasn’t finished. “My not killing you is not agreement, by the way. The people of Vyn will form fair and just democracies. They will spit in your face and prove that people are naturally kind. And that is why I’m sparing you; because the new world won’t have artists like me.”

When he didn’t respond, she turned back around and took Kim’s hand. “C’mon. Let’s finish this.”

It wasn’t finished. Would it ever be? Or did the chain of command go ever higher?

Kim tried gasping for breath, but none was coming.

After Tyr had disappeared and magic had swelled around Talmara, Arkt had appeared and informed them of the next challenge: an envoy of fate would soon arrive to kill Talmara in order to restore balance to the universe. It was then that her new sword had started to vibrate on the ground. Upon picking it up, she had gone entirely mute. After a minute of tense silence, she had looked back at Kim and told him that there was one last quest she had to complete.

She had to end Fate itself.

Immediately, Kim had insisted he go with her, but she denied him. Narathzul – f*cking Narathzul Arantheal, who was apparently inside her new sword – had told her it would be impossible for anyone but another Shadowgod to accompany her on the mission. Instead, Arkt would return Kim to Erothin, where he would have to wait for his love’s return.

At first, it hadn’t been so bad. Hours passed, and he tried to sleep. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going terribly wrong.

And of course, now here he was. Snatched out of existence – or he assumed so – and now held in a chokehold by an enormously tall woman with red eyes that shone with savage delight.

“Let – me – go!” he managed to choke, desperately clawing at the fingers holding him a foot off the ground.

The woman, if she could even be called that, tipped her head to the side. The endless black and glittering stars above reflected off her eyes. “Feeble worm… You know nothing but how to whine miserably. It will not change anything.”

His throat burned from her grip and the lack of oxygen, but he couldn’t help but respond. “Please, let me – go! I am nothing! I – haven’t done – anything to you!”

“Your useless efforts to change the Cycle’s course are offensive. You do not even know who you face… although, you are aware that I will be the end of you. You know exactly what awaits you. You cannot cheat destiny.”

The fingers tightened. Kim weakly kicked his feet, trying and failing to land a single blow on her. The edges of his vision were starting to fade into the blackness of the sky. The terror and instinct to survive were overriding the waves of confusion that had initially consumed him upon being ripped away from Erothin. But one thought did manage to remain crystal clear through the roaring of blood in his ears.

Talmara Shadowsing cannot save me this time.

Air rushed past him, and he hit the hard, rocky ground with a loud crack! Fire ignited up the crushed arm beneath him. As Kim cradled his new injury, gulping into precious oxygen, he tilted his head up to meet the woman’s piercing gaze.

There was an ungodly, enormous greatsword in her hands. With the stars forming a halo around her magnificent head, she raised her sword heavenside.

Kim let his eyes slip shut, and even though he knew she couldn’t hear him, he took one last breath from his beautiful world.

“I love you.”

His eyes flew open, and another breath entered his lungs.

A divine, golden blade stood between Kim and the woman’s sword. Sparks soared in every direction from the sheer impact of metal on metal. With a notched tip and an intricately carved hilt and guard, the new blade could only have been the weapon of an angel. But it was no angel who wielded it.

The savior wore decadent black full-body armor, golden trim lining the edges of every piece of it. Massive pauldrons created the illusion of a broad-shouldered wearer, but Kim could see the savior was slim-framed. Living fire licked up the sides of their boots. On their head was a helmet adorned with gold spikes that resembled a crown.

The sword was familiar; it was Soul Flayer, the blade that Talmara had carried the last time Kim had seen her. Except now, it was in the hands of a stranger.

The woman’s face turned red. She hissed at the newcomer, “It is not wise to come between me and my prey! I must admit, I am impressed by your premature appearance. I’ve never met anyone so eager to die.”

“Haven’t you been watching?” That’s not a stranger. “Nobody ever sees me coming.”

“I am Sarantha.” The woman ignored the angel’s quip. “Fate is I. I control everything – I am everything, and within myself rests the strength of everything. I am the one who decides your end. This is the last page of you and your plaything’s story. You cannot outrun me, little bug.”

“No,” Talmara smiled, “but we sure can f*cking kill you.”

The confusion in Sarantha’s eyes lasted only for a moment before clarity pierced her – along with Arkt’s misty blade straight through her stomach.

Sarantha choked with pain, and she fell forward off the sword. Talmara swept Soul Flayer around to meet her neck, but Sarantha ducked with lightning speed. A hungry gleam in her eye and the same feral grin from before sent a shock of terror through Kim as her own greatsword rushed to meet his skull.

Kim barely managed to roll to the side and avoid his head being cracked open like a coconut. Unfortunately, a few hairs on his hairline weren’t so lucky.

As Sarantha took a misstep from the lack of a body under her weapon, Talmara took the chance to strike again. Raising Soul Flayer above her head, the Shadowgod threw all her might behind the grand blow. She was wearing her usual stone-cold battle face, but Kim could see conviction and fury boiling in her eyes.

To think that she used to hate using a sword… Now she’s a master!

Unfortunately, he assumed too soon. For Sarantha did not in fact take a misstep. Instead, she feinted, both dodging the attack and hitting Talmara’s hip with the flat side of her greatsword with a massive swing. Talmara was thrown away like an old toy, tumbling across the stone brick ground. She did not pick herself back up.

Electricity sparked in Kim’s veins; he had to reach Talmara. Without a moment’s hesitation, Kim began to crawl towards her, but had to halt to make way for Arkt. The Aeterna’s sword of mist soared directly towards Sarantha’s head, his stance powerful and his hands clenched tight around the grip of his sword.

Ching! Again, a fatal blow blocked. This time, Kim really couldn’t believe his eyes. An exact doppelganger of Sarantha stood where there had been nobody a moment before. The original Sarantha was still turning to face Arkt. She had just saved her own life, it seemed.

But while Arkt had been quite a helpful ally recently, Kim cared much more for Talmara’s life than Arkt’s. Kim quickly pulled himself over to his lover and shook her by the shoulder. When she barely stirred, he flicked his wrist, and bluish-white magic washed over her body.

“Guhhhh,” Talmara groaned, finally coming to.

“Tal!” he urged. “Come on, you have to keep fighting! If any of us give up, we will all die! You can do this!”

“I can’t – f*cking – breathe, Kim – just – a second.”

The unmistakable mutter of a swear and the ugly sound of metal grinding made Kim whip around to check in on the fight. Sarantha – the original one, complete with gut wound – had just clobbered Arkt’s left pauldron, and his whole shoulder dragged him down nearly onto his knees. The other Sarantha was aiming for another gruesome hit, but Arkt backed off just in time. He took a few steps back, towards the circle of glowing red light in the center of the arena.

“Get up, Talmara,” he barked. “Get up!”

Kim looked to the side at Talmara – except she was now gone. A streak of black and gold surged towards the copy of Sarantha, and Soul Flayer descended with a mighty swoosh! on the crown of her head.

The new Sarantha dropped to her knees, blood spurting from the wound. Before Talmara could finish her off, though, the true Sarantha heaved her gigantic blade in an arc to slice Talmara’s torso in half. Kim felt every emotion rush out of his system, leaving nothing but horrifying emptiness in his heart.

The Shadowgod, however, had other plans. She plummeted towards the ground, the tips of her helmet a hair from brushing her opponent’s weapon. Without wasting another second, she removed the second Sarantha’s head from her shoulders.

The victorious pride that arose in place of the empty void was cut short. Before Kim could shout his support to Talmara, a shock of red and blue light pulsed from the dead Sarantha’s exposed neck. Kim, who had just been picking himself back up, was tossed backwards from the force of magic, every last bit of breath knocked from his lungs. He bounced a few times on pebbles that jutted into his body, finally ending his journey about ten feet away from where he’d started.

Groaning as bruises blossomed under his armor, Kim propped himself up on his elbows and glanced back at the others. His heartbeat stopped.

Talmara and Arkt were gone – disappeared, vanished. Eyes widening, he whirled his head around to spot them, but the verdict remained the same. The arena was not empty, though, and his eye returned to the person looming before him.

The one who returned his gaze was Sarantha, standing in front of her splayed-out double that continued to gush blood from its cleaved nape.

“Finally,” she grinned venomously, “we’re alone again.”

Sarantha was above him before he could blink. Eyes widening, Kim watched as she raised her sword for the second time against him; death was her sworn duty, and his was to obey the commands of gods. Every prayer he’d whispered and every lashing he’d received replayed in his mind’s eye, and he wondered if she’d heard and seen it all.

No, a small but strong voice spoke in the back of Kim’s head. A true, just god should serve life, not death!

TCHINK!

Kim threw himself away from the devil’s grasp, and her sword connected with stone instead of flesh. Today was not his day to die. He ripped the bow from his back, determined to follow in Talmara’s footsteps.

Confidence swelled as Sarantha swung at him again, and yet again he nimbly dodged her execution. Maybe he was finally getting the hang of this.

A weight evaporated from Kim’s shoulders. To counter his belief that it was purely an emotional feeling, a loud clatter of wooden objects sounded from behind him. The noise injected every muscle in his body with absolute terror.

Whipping around, he saw what he was most afraid of: Sarantha had caught his quiver’s strap. Strewn across the stone ground were two hundred arrows, spilled from his broken quiver.

Without a second thought, Kim dove for the pile of saving graces. If he could just grab a few, he had a chance to fight-

Sarantha slipped in front of him and kicked him straight in the abdomen. Agony seared through Kim, and he collapsed on the ground again, further from the arrows. Tears welled in his eyes as sickness churned in his stomach from the blow; it only worsened his disrupted breathing.

The arrows were a no-go. Kim scrambled backwards, desperately trying to escape from his fate. Heaving in air, he flourished his hand weakly, and bluish-white magic quelled the throbbing in his broken arm and the urge to puke.

I have to survive long enough for Tal to-!

The thought was choked out of him. Fingers of ice once more curled around his throat and elevated him into the air.

“This is not your story anymore,” Sarantha said sweetly. Her eyes scorched every hope Kim still held close to his chest. “The Shadowgod is meant to lose everyone they ever loved before their own demise. You cannot escape me. It will only hurt more if you continue to resist. Of course, I do love playing with my catch. It’s up to you, worm.”

Wind buffeted Kim’s hair into his eyes as he was flung with more power than institutionalized religion. As he soared backwards, spinning and flipping, he caught a glimpse of his destination: a wall of spikes, glinting with starlight.

Impalement was not the way Kim wanted to go out.

He collided with the ground once in the pile of arrows, then bounced back into flight. On his second hit, he did not miss his chance.

Snatching a single arrow, Kim gripped it with every ounce of strength he had left and stabbed it in a crack in the brick flooring. The silver tip scraped against stone and the wooden shaft bent under the sudden applied pressure, but he held on tight. He skidded to a halt mere inches from the spikes, his heart beating double-time from adrenaline.

Sarantha approached him, taking one leisurely step after the other, her shadowed form outlined with a hellish red glow. “Thank you for playing with me.” She swung her sword side to side like a child with her favored doll.

Kim swallowed harshly. It dawned on him that this truly was just a game to her – just another way to keep her from eternal boredom.

He wrenched the arrow free and notched it on his bow, his broken arm screaming from the effort of pulling the string back. Before he could correctly aim, the string slipped from his quaking fingers. The arrow pathetically deflected off Sarantha’s left greave.

What could Kim do? His arrows were out of reach. A bow was not the ideal melee weapon.

Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Groveling and pitiful was how Kim was going to die.

The one thing he could do was cast healing spells on himself, preparing himself for the moment when they would become absolutely unnecessary. It was a depressing reminder of how utterly useless he was alone. He always had to be saved.

This time, Kim’s luck had run out.

The red light emanating from behind Sarantha began to glow brighter. It was a sun catching fire, and it would inevitably consume everything in its wake. Tendrils of crimson death crept through the cracks of stone and seeped around the sharp edges of Sarantha’s armor to greet Kim. Slowly, gleefully slowly, it drifted towards him. While he did not have much longer, the fog had an eternity to coil around him.

He could not dodge or block it any longer. The light burned Kim’s eyes – it was either too holy or too profane, he couldn’t tell the difference anymore – and he squeezed them shut, his body tensing in preparation for the end.

A cacophony of whistling magic caught him by surprise, and he blinked his eyes back open.

In the center of the arena, barely distinguishable from the red mist, dust swirled into shape. Pieces of a person stitched together from toe to head. Black and gold armor reforged, and familiar green eyes locked with Kim’s.

Utter relief made Kim’s heart soar, and he gasped for the breath he’d forgotten he was holding.

Talmara Shadowsing sprinted forward, and with a giant leap, rammed her entire body weight behind a foot straight into Sarantha’s skull.

Sarantha careened onto the floor, rolling away from Talmara and Kim but managing to pull herself into a cool, crouched pose. Annoyance festered in Kim’s chest. Why couldn’t she just die already?

“Kim!” Talmara called to him. “Get your arrows – I’ll keep her busy.”

The annoyance evaporated upon hearing Talmara’s voice. Kim was thankful to be alive, but even more thankful that Talmara was alive. None of this would be worth it if she died. He rushed onto his feet and back over to the pile of arrows, scooping a few into his hand.

Unfortunately, as Talmara marched towards Sarantha with Soul Flayer at the ready, Sarantha stuck her greatsword in the ground and shouted a few unfamiliar words that rattled Kim’s ears. A wave of exploding fire pulsated from the sword and crashed into the pair of heroes. Kim once again found himself lying face-down without a weapon, this time with his hands and face partially burned. The arrows he’d grabbed had fled his hold in the tossing. I don’t remember being thrown around this much in fights before!

Sarantha towered over Talmara, slashing her back as the Shadowgod attempted to stand up. Talmara swore but did not fall; instead, she sprung up and flung Soul Flayer high into the air before crashing it down onto Sarantha’s blade, which barely snaked its way between Soul Flayer and its wielder in time.

Kim resumed collecting his arrows. If he could keep even just thirty arrows on him, he’d be set for the rest of the fight – hopefully. He shoved them into his quiver, refusing to think about its broken strap for the moment.

A flash of gleaming metal hooked his eye; Sarantha spun around and swept her sword in the direction of Talmara’s kneecaps. But the fight was beginning to turn – the angel jumped over the blade and with one swift movement, she drew a harsh line in red from Sarantha’s chin to her hairline.

Sarantha’s shocked cry gave Kim the surge of energy needed to gather the last arrows, despite the pain burning his entire body. He frantically began tying the two ends of the quiver’s strap around his belt. It would all be over soon; just a little longer.

Talmara seized Sarantha’s surprise as the opportune moment and crashed Soul Flayer into Sarantha once, then twice. Blood splattered on gray: she’d pinpointed the gaps in Sarantha’s armor with grim expertise. After the two blows, she looked over her shoulder at Kim, and he could have sworn she winked at him. He couldn’t help but give her a smile in return.

It was a mistake for Talmara to take her eyes off Sarantha for even just one second. Sarantha dropped and tackled Talmara by the legs. The pair toppled over, and Soul Flayer clattered on the ground in the midst of chaos. Wrestling for control, legs and arms flailing about, Kim couldn’t initially tell who was winning, despite how hard he was trying to discern that fact.

“A little help, Kim!” Talmara shouted as she kicked Sarantha in the jaw.

Before Kim could draw his bow, though, Sarantha slammed her forearm across Talmara’s chest. Pinned down and weaponless, Talmara could only watch as a greatsword plunged through solid armor into her stomach.

The sight hit Kim like a tidal wave. Rage, fear, agony – emotions waterboarded him, making him stumble, a strangled scream clawing its way out from his mouth. The ringing of metal being warped and split still echoed in his brain. The smell of burnt flesh wafting up his nose, he wondered if this was all just a nightmare. A very horrible nightmare.

A world without Talmara was no longer one Kim wanted to exist in. They’d been together for so long now, yet had only just discovered each other. They needed more time – they deserved more time – they had fought for so long, hadn’t they earned the right to survive? He just wanted it all to be over, for Talmara to hold him, to kiss him, to do so much more to him – but she had to live first. They both had to.

Talmara’s easy smile, her rough hands, her unwavering support, her rock-solid loyalty… it was finally his. He could kiss that smile, hold her hands, bathe in the warmth of her encouragement, lean on her iron shoulder – he’d had it for a glorious moment.

It was slipping through his fingers like water.

Kim’s broken scream was rivaled by Talmara’s shriek of anguish. Her hands weakly fumbled with the greatsword’s hilt, but the blood quickly soaking her fingers made it impossible for her to get a grip on it.

It was time to be useful for once. Hot tears dripping down his cheeks, Kim raised his bow.

This time, he would not miss.

The arrow stuck with a loud SHUNK! in between two plates of armor on Sarantha’s shoulder. Sarantha cried out, falling away from Talmara, but it only took a moment for her to catch herself and whip her head around to stare into Kim’s soul.

All of time, all of destiny, all of humanity and all of civilization, all of love and all of war – all of it wanted to kill Kim.

He was not going to die so easily.

She ripped her greatsword from Talmara’s body – who yelped again, hands pushing down on the now open wound that was spewing blood everywhere – and began running towards Kim. A trail of blood followed in her wake. Her own stomach wound had dried. It didn’t seem fair that she could still walk while Talmara was dying.

Kim let another arrow loose; this one pierced the sliver of exposed flesh around her knee. That was supposed to be the end of it. She would fall, she would bleed, she would perish.

Sarantha fell. Sarantha bled. Sarantha swung her greatsword and sliced deep across Kim’s chest.

Kim fell. Kim bled. Kim stared up at destiny and looked her in the eye without flinching.

Destiny would have him and Talmara, would have the world and its people. But he would be damned if it had his dignity. Because even though they had lost, he had been convinced without a single doubt that freedom for eternity was well overdue. He could not blame himself for trying to tear it from Fate’s hands.

“Good night, little worm,” Sarantha whispered. She was an immortal mountain that could never be carved away or blown to pieces by such inconsequential bugs as mankind.

The taste of iron on Kim’s lips was strange. Something warm splashed on his face, just a few specks. The stars shimmered so brightly around Sarantha that he couldn’t see her expression. She was not a person: she could not love anything, or she would have laid down arms long ago. She was simply an dreadfully tall shadow that lingered in both the greatest leaders’ wake and in the long-forgotten bones of a mouse, buried in the dirt by time.

There was a Shadowgod now, though. It was only right for Fate to melt away.

Sarantha gurgled and spat up more blood. The misty sword protruding from her heart receded, and she crumpled onto the ground beside Kim.

“Help Talmara,” Arkt ordered. “Sarantha is defeated. We have won.”

Arkt was haggard. The mask that previously hid his face was missing, and red was seeping down his forehead from his mussed hair. His shoulders drooped and his chest heaved in breaths.

Without a word – without the ability to form coherent thoughts other than a vague, we did it – Kim began crawling towards his love.

Kim couldn’t afford to waste any of his energy on himself. He knew the job of fixing Talmara up would require all his remaining strength. It didn’t scare him, though. This was what he was useful for: healing others, and self-sacrifice.

So, yes, Kim crawled across the arena, blood staining the ground and his hands.

When he finally reached Talmara, she was barely breathing. Her whole body had stilled, and her eyes were fluttering. A pool had emerged from beneath her. How much wider would it grow before all the air left her body, before her flesh drifted into the breeze, before the worms and the universe took her? Would the worms drown in all the blood, as it spilled into every nook and crevice for miles on end? Were there any worms out here under the infinite stars to begin with?

Kim laid beside her. His head rested on cold, hard stone. The brain inside his head was being scrambled, nonsense chattering on and focus shifting incoherently. Blinking once, the puddle underneath Talmara had suddenly widened by another inch.

He rested a gentle hand on her gaping, sticky wound and closed his eyes. The red fog filtered through his eyelids as warmth tingled his body all over.

“Wake up, Tal,” he murmured.

^{And then he let it all go.}

“Hey, you. You’re finally awake.”

The smell of charcoal awakened Kim. Mouth absurdly dry, she peeled her eyes open, only to regret doing so immediately. Bright light shook her brain, and she sunk further into the soft cushions beneath her to avoid harsh reality.

A calloused hand held her own. The owner of the hand chuckled to themself. “Oh, come on, Kim. We have sh*t to talk about, you can’t go back to f*cking sleep.”

“Tal,” she groaned, hiding her face in her spare elbow.

“Kim,” the voice teased back. They lifted the elbow away and replaced it with an engulfing kiss that quickly consumed the few braincells Kim had managed to scrounge together in the past half minute.

Kim didn’t bother opening her eyes. Instead, she blindly grasped for the front of Talmara’s shirt, pulling her nearly on top of her. Talmara kissed her like a knight with her maiden: passionately, victoriously, protectively. Kim was more than willing to be the damsel in distress. She looped her arms around Talmara’s neck, clinging onto her like if Kim let go, she would plummet into an abyss of loneliness.

Gods, Kim could do this and not have to worry about ruining everything between them. The relief made every breath she panted feel distant and airy.

“Honey,” Talmara breathed into her, “As much as I – want to kiss you – Gods, I want to –” She dragged herself away from Kim’s mouth. “I don’t want you to pass out. Let’s save it for later.”

Although she hated to admit it, Kim was already feeling light-headed. Reluctantly, she let Talmara sit back down in the chair pulled up to the bed.

With eyes now open, Kim could finally get a look around the room. She was lying in a twin bed, a crimson wool blanket with gold patterns adorning it beneath her. A large painting of a woman and an apple hung on the wall to her right. At the foot of the bed was the desk that Kim assumed Talmara had taken her chair from. The room itself was an expansive dome, display cases were set in a circle around the room, and there was a fire crackling welcomingly in the far corner by a stairwell.

As air once again circulated through her brain, questions began popping up from every direction. Kim settled her gaze back on Talmara. “Where are we? Where is Arkt? How did we – Gods, you’re alive, Tal!”

A winning grin appeared on Talmara’s face. “I sure f*cking am. We’re at Castle Darlan, I thought it’d be a quiet spot to recover. I told Arkt to teleport us here after you revived me. He went off to Zelara’s Tomb once we got you stable.”

“I… I revived you?”

“Yeah, and almost died because of it. Why didn’t you f*cking heal yourself first? You got me real worried there for a second. You’re f*cking lucky that I’ve been training in healing magic this whole time, or I wouldn’t’ve been able to save you. I’ll say, almost knocked me out; Sarantha hit you pretty deep.”

The whole room was warm and cozy. When was the last time Kim had gotten a full, restful night’s sleep? She wanted to stay awake, to demand all the answers from Talmara – What armor were you wearing? Where did you and Arkt go during the fight? Who’s leading the country? Who are you now? – but sleepiness was worming its way back into her head. She let her eyes drift shut as she mumbled, “Thank you for saving me, Tal. Will you stay with me?”

Talmara tsked, “You’re going back to sleep already?”

“I almost died.”

“So did I.”

“So, stay with me, please.”

Following a light sigh, weight lowered itself onto the empty side of bed behind Kim. Strong, wiry arms wrapped around her, and Talmara’s nose rested against the back of her neck. The relaxed, soft breath against Kim’s skin was the epitome of the bliss she had wanted for so long. It was peace, it was safety, it was home.

“I’m not going anywhere without you,” Talmara whispered. “It’s over. We can do whatever we want now. If that means sleeping all day or traveling to the Belt of Kilé, it doesn’t matter. As long as we’re together, I’m happy.”

Kim smiled against her pillow. After a beat, she took Talmara’s hand and lightly squeezed it with her own.

“I love you, Tal.”

“Love you too.”