Chapter 1230: A Parting Without Goodbyes

"Xiviyah."

The being’s voice was quiet. His black form wavered at the edges, fraying in the astral winds that tore through the void around him.

Then he was before me. He didn’t move. He simply was.

I stumbled back against Fable, almost tripping over his paw. Oblivion radiated from the figure, bringing an icy chill to my soul. My knees wouldn’t stop shaking. During the battle, I’d clung to Fable and tried to hold my aura together, terrified that each clash would tear away something I couldn’t restore. Even now, with the fighting over, I couldn’t make myself loosen my grip.

"You’re...you’re not Fyren," I said.

"No. But he is me." His gaze settled on my trembling hands. "You are afraid. That is good. It is natural for mortals to fear the dark."

"What did you do to him? Where did you send him?" I asked, looking toward the growing void where Fate had vanished.

"Seventy thousand."

"What?" I looked up in confusion, my fingers curling deeper into Fable’s fur.

"Seventy thousand souls torn from the Cycle, never to be reborn. Such is the work he wrought in his arrogance and treachery. Souls that had endured for eternity, and should have endured still." Anger hardened his tone. "There is no penance for such crimes. No atonement in any number of lives."

"He...he was a god," I mumbled. "What did you...how did you..."

The dark being’s voice was absolute.

"I made it seventy thousand and one."

I stared at him. The pressure of the god’s presence still seemed to linger against my skin. I could remember how small I’d felt beneath it, how hopeless. And now he was simply gone?

A soft golden radiance bloomed beside me, and Fate appeared. The stars within my aura brightened, encouraged by her presence. It didn’t make sense. I held the divinity, yet they still answered her.

"Oblivion," she said softly.

Fyren—Oblivion—met her gaze. The crimson light leaking from his eyes softened.

"Fate."

I shivered, waiting for the tension to break. Instead, a small smile touched Fate’s lips.

"You’re a little early, no? Too early."

Oblivion’s eyes narrowed. "The godling descended in his true body. No one could account for such insanity."

"And yet, such is the pattern fate has woven." She rested a hand on my shoulder. "Regardless, I thank you for saving my Oracle."

I shivered again. Her touch felt scorching against the cold he had left in me.

"T-Thank you for protecting me," I mumbled, taking her cue and lowering my head.

"You fight against the gods. Did you believe I would let you fight alone?"

I wanted to shake my head, but couldn’t.

"What happened to Fyren?"

Oblivion touched his chest, where the Arbiter’s necklace had rested against Fyren’s armored plates.

"A fragment of Oblivion, sent to shepherd the Oracle of Oblivion to her place. An anchor against the tides of fate. When it broke, all the power held within him was released, allowing me to descend." He lowered his hand. "His role ended too early, but there is naught to be done. I cannot linger here. This world must endure a while longer. The work must be completed."

He reversed his sword and drove it into the earth. Half the blade sank from sight, releasing a tremor that raced through fate. I shuddered as it passed through me, then again as it returned, carrying a surge of power.

Shadows flowed toward the sword from across the realm, gathering in rivers of inky darkness. They wound around the blade and spread into the void, filling the wounds in the world. One by one, the rifts began to close. Only the one Fate had opened resisted, its edges straining against the dark.

"I shall return when the time is ripe. Until then, little one, I wish you well." He looked between us. "Look after her."

I wasn’t sure whether he meant me or Fate. I didn’t care.

"Wait, Fyren!"

I stumbled toward him, pushing against the tides of oblivion. The cold sank deeper with every step, but I kept going. It didn’t matter that it came from him. He’d never hurt me. He’d always been careful, even when he hadn’t understood why I wanted to be close.

"Please, you can’t go. You promised you’d be with me. You can’t leave!"

The being looked down at me. Something like regret flickered in his eyes.

Then he vanished, drawn back into the rift. It closed behind him. Within seconds, the only shadows remaining wreathed the blade he’d left behind.

"No, Fyren!"

Arms wrapped around me. I turned and buried my face against Fate’s chest, and she held me as the tears finally came. My shoulders shook. I tried to speak, but couldn’t get enough air between the sobs.

"Why? Why did he have to go?" I looked up at her, my lip quivering. "D-Did you know?"

She rested a hand on my head, stroking my hair.

"No one knows all that will happen until it does. That the usurper would be so foolish as to descend in his true body was beyond even my foresight. But when a god descends, it opens the door to other visitors. A sacrifice was required to close it."

"But Fyren? Was he...was he even real? I don’t understand. I don’t understand anything!"

"Xiviyah."

She took my face between her hands, lifting my eyes to hers.

"He was as real as you and I. A part of something much greater."

She released me and stepped back. My hands balled into fists. I stared at the ground, sniffling.

"I...I didn’t have a chance to say goodbye. He promised..."

"Then hold him to his oath," Fate said.

She turned toward the sword.

"Verity, child, would you please collect that? I’m afraid that, at this point, it’s our only real hope of succeeding."

Verity appeared beside us, looking dim and shaken.

"I...I don’t even know if I can get close to it. It’s radiating such darkness."

"You’ll be fine. As opposite as our powers might seem, they are not so different. Let the stars guide you."

"Wait, Fate, please," I pleaded as Verity glided toward the blade. "What’s going on? Who was Fyren? Can’t you at least answer me that?"

She glanced back, her expression softening with pity.

"No. Not now. He was already here too long, and with the descent of a god, the eyes of the council will be upon us. It is not too late for them to interfere. This world cannot withstand another god’s descent. Two were already more than its laws could bear."

"Two?" I whispered.

I watched dully as Verity grasped the sword’s hilt. She shivered, then drew it from the ground. It was the same size and shape as the blade Elaine had gifted Fyren. I knew that sword. I’d seen it at his side so often that, for a moment, I expected him to reach for it.

She had called him Oblivion. One who stood opposed to Fate.

I thought of the being hidden within the mural beneath Haven’s cathedral, and a shiver ran down my tail. It couldn’t be. That would mean Fyren was...

No. I shook my head, another wave of tears threatening.

Whatever that shadowy being was, he had killed a god. A god suppressed by the weight of a mortal realm, but still so far beyond ninth-level that his presence had torn the world asunder. No ordinary demon could do that. Neither could a demon lord’s avatar.

"But...he’d only just started to really hug me," I whimpered, squeezing my eyes shut.

"Thank you, Verity," Fate said softly. "And I’m sorry. I know I promised you a chance to reclaim the body the usurper stole from you, but—"

"It’s gone. I know, my lady." Verity bowed her head. "I could feel it."

The goddess nodded sadly.

"He consumed its very essence, turning it into power to tear an opening through the dimensional wall large enough for his true form to descend. I’m afraid there is nothing to be done. Not even if I held my full power."

Verity nodded, but her hands trembled around the sword. She tightened her grip, trying to still them.

"What matters is that the sacrifice wasn’t in vain. We still have to take down the church, right?"

"The world shard must fall," Fate affirmed. "But this battle has parted the night and allowed the gray of dawn to creep across the horizon. No god stands against you anymore. The fate of this world, the fate of all worlds, shall be decided by mortals. How fitting." She nodded to herself. " Yes, how truly fitting. Now go. Remember, you have my support, and that of the Fatesworn, but this war rests on your shoulders."

I folded my arms, hugging myself tightly. Tears clung to my eyelashes, blurring the broken courtyard. I was so, so tired. Fyren was gone. The Aethereal Prism had cracked, and the divinity was straining my soul.

I didn’t want to carry the world’s fate. I didn’t even want to carry my own.

But Luke was still out there somewhere, fighting. The Fatesworn were scattered, and as far as I could tell, several had perished in the battle between Fate and Oblivion. I reached for those familiar bonds again, hoping I’d missed them among the turmoil.

There was only silence.

I drew a long, unsteady breath and straightened. They needed a star, and I had promised to shine for them.

The time for mourning would come. Right now, I wasn’t going to let them fight alone.