Chapter 1229: The End

Fyren’s eyes stared out of the darkness, glowing like red embers. He gave me what might have been a small nod, then turned and rose into the air to face Fate.

"Impossible. I erased you," the god growled.

"Perhaps," Fyren said. "But you’re not so naive as to think there’s nothing in the void, are you?"

Fate went still. "You’re no fire demon. I see that now. Your kind should have been wiped out long ago."

"Is that what they told you?" Fyren’s laugh was dry and bitter, sending a shiver through the world. There was no humor in it, only a fury that made my tail curl tightly against me. "It’s true I haven’t taken part in the Divine Conflict for some time. But did you truly think I was gone? You actually dared to forget me?"

"Forgotten you shall be, if you continue to stand against me. The Oracle is mine. Nothing will stop me from claiming my divinity. Not even a creature of Oblivion."

Fyren didn’t move.

"Have it your way," Fate said. "I only regret that I won’t be able to claim the amulet."

He raised a hand. This time, no sword appeared. A sphere of silver light formed above his palm, drawing the surrounding stars into a tightening vortex. They spun together, condensing until their light outshone the sun. Night fled from the ruins, leaving every shattered wall and broken street exposed. I shielded my eyes, struggling to hold my aura together as its stars were pulled toward him, swallowed into his power.

"You dare draw that much?" Fyren asked. "You would tear this world apart?"

Fate brought his other hand forward, bracing both behind the sphere. It swelled until it was twice his height.

"I care nothing for this world, nor whatever machinations brought you here. Let it perish in the darkness. I shall live on among the stars." His voice rose over the gathering storm. "And you? Now you die."

He thrust his palms forward. The sphere ruptured, unleashing a brilliant silver beam.

It came straight for my chest. The air warped around it, folding inward before vanishing altogether. A trail of oblivion opened in its wake. It was the same power he’d wielded against Luke, magnified a hundredfold.

Only this time, there would be nothing left to call back.

I tried to scream, but my throat had closed. My heart pounded so hard it hurt. Was this truly the end?

No. I couldn’t believe it. My eyes told me otherwise, but deep within my soul, something stirred. The cold void where Fyren’s mark had been was no longer empty.

Fyren raised a hand, and fate broke apart around him.

There was no other way to describe it. Every thread before his palm snapped, severing a curved shell from the rest of Enusia. Nothing connected it to the world beyond.

The silver light struck and parted like a river around a stone. It poured past us in two raging torrents, leaving a narrow wedge of ground untouched in Fyren’s shadow. Even there, the currents dragged at my soul, stripping mana from my wards and leaving me raw and gasping.

Then his shield began to buckle.

The shell of oblivion bowed inward beneath the weight of Fate’s power. Fyren shifted back, his outstretched arm trembling. Wisps of smoke curled from the golden amulet at his throat. Its edges blurred in the heat, and a crack split the angel’s face.

It shattered. The fragments vanished before they could fall.

For an instant, the whole world seemed to stop.

Fyren’s soul shivered. Then it began to crack. Thousands of lines spread across it, and something vast stirred in its depths. Power surged through the mark, striking the divinity within me and forcing it back. The two strained against each other in my chest. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t breathe. My mana faltered, and the last of my wards flickered out.

Darkness pooled around Fyren, opening a fissure as terrible as the one behind Fate. Cold poured from it, endless and hungry, pressing against the silver storm.

And then the light was gone.

I stared past him, struggling to understand what I was seeing. Canyons stretched to the horizon on either side of us, gouged through the city and the land beyond. Black rifts shimmered along their edges. Wherever the beam had passed, holes in the weave widened, joining the great tear through which Fate had descended. More of the world slipped away with every breath.

My aura flickered around me, small and frail. I reached for the unraveling threads, but there was nothing I could hold.

"What have you done?" Fyren whispered.

His eyes no longer glowed red. They burned an eerie white against the utter blackness of his form.

"What are you?" Fate asked, drifting back.

For a moment, I thought I heard uncertainty. Then he vanished, reappearing behind Fyren with his sword extended.

Fyren didn’t even turn.

The point stopped an inch from his back. Fate drove it forward, but the blade only shivered, unable to advance. He recoiled, drawing it close.

"What are you? No demon, not even one of Oblivion, could withstand the power of a god."

"Demons. Yes, I suppose I have worn their form." Fyren glanced down at himself, then turned toward Fate. "Are you so blinded by fear that you cannot recognize me? How can you claim to be a god of fate and not feel it?"

Fate drew back another pace. "You...you can’t be..."

"I can, and I am." Fyren moved toward him. "And I have come to judge you unworthy to wear the mantle of the stars."

"Me? Unworthy?" Fate’s attention slid past him and settled on me. "And this mortal is?" He spat the word like a curse. "How dare you place a child before me. It doesn’t matter who you are, or what dark hole you crawled out of. The whole Divine Realm stands behind me. I will crush the filthblood, take the divinity, and claim my rightful place upon the throne of fate."

Fyren stopped a few feet away. Silver and black, so close together. One blazed with enough light to banish the night. The other swallowed every ray that touched him.

"You raised a mortal to be your blood offering. Such is in violation of the ancient rights," Fyren said.

"Demons claim sacrifices all the time," Fate spat. "It was necessary." His head turned toward the rift, toward the darkness beyond Enusia.

"It’s too late to flee," Fyren said. "You descended in your true body. There is no going back. Like so many before you, your arrogance has brought you to the end."

He extended a hand to his side, and a black sword formed within it. I knew its shape. It was the blade Elaine had given him in Blacksand, wrought now from the same darkness as his body.

"No. You can’t. I am a god—"

The sword blurred.

Fate screamed. A line of pure darkness cut across his waist, so thin I could scarcely see it. Silver light gathered along the wound, but it wouldn’t close. He poured more power into it. The darkness remained.

He swung his own sword down with both hands. Once more, it stopped just short of Fyren, trembling beneath the force of the blow.

Fyren drove his blade into the god’s chest.

"Did you think I would do nothing when you came for her? When you hunted her heroes, slaughtered her believers, and cast her kingdom from the skies? You actually dared to think you could rule among the stars?"

Fate screamed as Fyren twisted the sword. Flecks of starlight scattered like blood.

"You, who have never heard the Father’s voice, I could excuse. But those who sent you?" Fyren shook his head, almost sadly. "So many have fallen since last I walked creation. And those who remain...that arrogance and pride should blind them to this extent. I find that...displeasing."

He pulled his sword free. Fate fell, striking the ground hard enough to leave a crater. His power lashed out, breaking the earth and widening the rifts around him. But the darkness spread through his body all the same, swallowing the silver from within.

"What have you done? I am a god..." he panted.

Fyren descended, alighting at the edge of the crater.

"A god? What is a god but a book with more Chapters? All things come to pass, godling. All things have an end."

He raised a hand, and Fate rose before him. Only a faint silver glow remained beneath the darkness.

"I am that end."

Fyren thrust his sword into him once more.

The god writhed, his screams shaking what remained of the city. Starlight burst from his chest, rising in glittering streams. More followed, spilling from every part of him until constellations shone amid Fyren’s darkness.

Then they fell.

Like shooting stars, they plunged into the black blade and vanished. Fate’s cries weakened as his body unraveled, drawn into the same endless void. He reached for Fyren, his hand straining toward that dark, featureless face.

His fingers broke apart before they could touch it.

And then he was gone.

Silence settled over the ruins. Fyren turned toward me, his white eyes burning in the darkness.

I took a step back.