2412 Diori 28, Velpa

Chaos ensued long after the world folded in on itself.

Being inside an empty fortress told Ezril enough. This was not her fight, and she shouldn't have qualms about it. Long after Kymalin was taken and imprisoned somewhere, Ezril didn't move from her seat. Until they could show her proof her daughter was alive, she would never recede her control over the army of spirits posted outside.

Airese and their remaining friends took turns in begging her, but Ezril remained resolute. It's been days since Xanthy surrendered everything they fought for, and if Ezril had any say in it, she understood what the girl had to go through to arrive at that conclusion.

Then, the sky darkened in the middle of the day. Ezril and everyone left inside the quadrants' walls craned their necks up to see a black mass sucking the life out of the island. The sound of fabric ripping flashed through the air, almost like a streak of lightning. Breathing became heavy, and a stringent roar filled the entire plain.

Airese found Ezril and dragged her behind a small hovel made by a chunk of the battlements having crumbled. Ezril's magic fizzled out, the sudden cold replacing her magic's familiar blaze disconcerting her system. Panic bubbled from her gut, but the raging wrath pouring from the ground, the air, and the trails around them was enough to tamp it down.

Together, they hunkered into themselves, sharing nothing but a resolute look and the unspoken belief that everything would be alright. This wasn't their war, but of their children. Their heirs. As mothers, it's their duty to let their children fight their own battles and save their worlds. The only thing Airese and Ezril could offer were their prayers to gods who either existed or not, who heard them or not.

Hope—it's the only option in a world full of uncertainty.

Then, a bright light streamed from the heavens and drowned the whole island with a blinding veil. Somewhere from the sky, the stars from the night sky rained during the day. Airese threw herself all over Ezril as the firmament fell over them. But no pain greeted them. At some point, Ezril's consciousness blipped out, and when it returned, she opened her eyes to a brand new world.

Or at least, it felt like it.

Footsteps rushed around her, and when she and Airee crawled out of their hiding place, Penleth was flattened once more. Bricks and chunks of rock which once held the walls up littered the plain. The floating island the Heiress made through some sort of freak spell resembling Falkirta's mechanics crashed somewhere near the borders between Penleth and Alkara, stirring up a huge cloud of debris and soil. The force generated was enough to cause an earthquake that shook the fortress to rubble.

And at the heart of the frantic chaos was the heirs themselves. The thrones, in their sparkling glory, lay discarded in a depressing pile. Everyone crowded around something, and Ezril didn't need to be there to know what it was.

Xanthiene Vivenca was gone.

Airese had long abandoned Ezril and rushed towards where her daughter lay. Her jovial friend joined the chorus of wails echoing in the air. They cradled and fussed over Xanthy's lifeless form, denying the truth again and again. It broke Ezril's heart, how people refused to accept such a simple truth. But they weren't banshees. They weren't Ezril, who spent more time with the dead than she did with the living. Of course, they wouldn't have the same perspective.

But Xanthy was a girl of miracles. Perhaps, it wasn't really over for her. The story she wrote wouldn't end in tears. Maybe.

Airese had retreated to the side, sidling close to the other heirs who didn't want to get in the way as Nyxis knelt and tried everything he could to get his friend back. Eldan was shouting at someone or anyone he could blame because the world was as faceless as the ground beneath their feet. Ezril reached out and laid a hand on Airese's shoulder. The brownie turned to her with a tear-stained face.

"I'm sorry," Ezril said.

Airese ran the back of her hand against her cheek. "Not your fault," she blubbered, voice thick with tears. "Go. Vaeri needs you."

Ah, must have been Ezril's thoughts acting out and betraying her efforts to be a good friend. As such, Airese was never one to be selfish. She understood, and would always understand everyone's lives didn't revolve around one thing. Besides, what more Ezril could say? Airese just lost her daughter and Ezril stood to lose her son if she didn't leave now. The war dragged on too long, and she left Vaeri on his own long enough.

Ezril wrapped her arms around her friend, squeezing her in a hold tight enough to impart the rest of the warmth Ezril wouldn't need any longer. Airese rested her head against Ezril's shoulder, and for a second, Ezril didn't want to let go. After all her talk about dying and entering Pidmena, she wasn't ready. She was afraid.

They pulled apart, and guilt gnawed in Ezril's gut. Airese just lost one soul after another, and now, Ezril's going to add to her friend's lengthening list. "I'm sorry," Ezril said again.

Airese took Ezril's hand and sniffed. "Not your fault," she said again, this time referring to the cloud of doom hovering over Ezril's head. "Have courage, Ez. And thank you. For everything."

Ezril returned the gentle squeeze Airese gave her hand. "Fare well, Airese Vivenca," she said. "It's been a wonderful journey."

Before any of them could run out of the strength they mustered at the last moment, Ezril turned away and stalked out of the fortress. She found herself a wild dagrine who survived against all odds, and with a bit of taming, she rode it all the way to the border between Penleth and Carleon. She found one of the hidden entryways serving as emergency exits should the Temple fall. It's a double-edged sword, as it could be used to infiltrate the Temple too.

She activated her soul port and connected it to the door nearest to Vaeri's room. When she stepped back into the familiar but cold halls of the Temple, she wasted no time and burst into Vaeri's room.

A priestess flinched and hurried to duck her head to greet Ezril. "High Priestess! He—"

"You may go," Ezril said. The usual softness in her voice was replaced by a hard edge, driving the priestess to a squeak. She didn't wait for her to be alone inside the room when she summoned Kalael and rushed to Vaeri's bedside.

The boy's skin was paler than ever, and the fever ravaged his entire form. A damp cloth on his forehead had long ago dried up, and when Ezril held his hand, a frigid surface greeted her, almost making her drop it. What in Umazure...

"Ardien, tell me you found something," Ezril snapped at the column of green smoke taking the form of her bond. Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes as she watched her son take less and less breaths. "Please. I can't..."

"The underground caverns in Lanteglos," Kalael said. "In the space where you found me."

Ezril bobbed her head and extended her magic to the spirit. She gave him a sad smile—the best thing she could offer him in such a delicate moment. It's time. The war had finished, and the world was in good hands. The only thing left to do was to make sure Vaeri got to see all of it.

"Take care of them," Ezril told Kalael who, no doubt, wanted to develop a form enough to nail her feet on the floor. "Kymalin, especially."

"I swear on Daexis' name," Kalael placed a hand on his chest and bowed to Ezril. What bearing could the dead's word have? She wasn't going to be here long enough to find out. "No harm will come to our children as long as I'm here."

"Then, do you accept the judgment I place upon you?" Ezril asked.

Kalael met her eyes and despite the hollow voids swirling in his green-tinged face, Ezril had never seen so much warmth. "I accept," he said.

Ezril's magic rose to the surface at her beckoning. She sent her synnavaim to wrap around the rings, then finally, towards Kalael. A spell she long ago took to heart spilled from her lips, warping and wrapping around Kalael's spirit, binding him to the symbol of their love and the only memory people would have of a man who had accepted a high priestess at every point of her life. The rings floated from her chest, the chain attached to her neck seemed to be the only one holding them in place. They glowed with an ethereal blue light, reflecting the spirit disappearing inside the bands of metal.

"Hear my prayer, O gods of Calaris," Ezril chanted. "I offer you the judgment of the past, the sinner of the present, and the justice of the future. Yskavarii."

A flash of blue rippled through the entire room. The rings slapped Ezril's chest once more, but this time, a different weight hung over them. She slipped the chain off her neck just as the door to Vaeri's room opened and the Rekshais flooded through.

"Ezril, what's going on?" Ashryn demanded. Her chest still heaved from rushing from wherever she was to where their High Priestess unleashed her magic.

"Where's Janos?" Ezril said instead.

The Rekshais parted to reveal the oldest man among them. He might have served the previous High Priestess, and now he's bound to see another. "Yes, High Priestess?" Janos ducked his head at Ezril's approach.

She took his hands in hers and pressed the rings into his palm. "Protect these with your life. Make sure each of my children get one. Explain what I had to do to heal Vaeri. Don't hold anything back," Ezril instructed. "And whatever happens, don't let Kymalin summon me."

"Ezril, what are you planning?" Aran stomped her foot on the ground, tears already streaming down her cheeks. "Don't go."

Their High Priestess smiled at them. "Remember, my Rekshais," she said. "Death is not the end. We'll meet again. I'm sure of it."

And with that, the advisers rushed towards Ezril and embraced her one last time. That feeling was what Ezril brought with her as she braved the effects of the sirtya she fished from the Temple's inventory. Her memory became her guide, and soon, the caverns she never thought she'd be in again greeted her.

The Academy of Magical Arts was a place of mystique and mysteries, and this dark and dingy cavern was one of them. Not only did it house a lost soul, it brought another lost soul to it. And now, they would close the circle with one last spell.

Ezril closed her eyes to feel the Majie around her. Denara was right. The flow of energy was harsher and harder to leash. And when she directed its course through her form and synnavaim, she felt its weight. Crushing, roaring, and raging. It wanted out, to go back to where it belonged, but Ezril gritted her teeth and held on.

Then, with the last of her control, she forced it to mold according to her thoughts. "Ilyaleta," she chanted.

Burst open.

A rush of unbearable heat rushed through her system, driving her to her knees as it burned everything inside her. Through the hungry flames, a faint figure resembling a faceless being formed.

You have accessed the gates of fate, and I hear your wish. It said.

"Heal my son," Ezril said through her quivering jaw and rattling teeth. The heat didn't let up, rampaging in her veins, leaving nothing but ash in its wake. "And protect my daughter."

The being didn't move, but it asked, and what are you willing to give in return?

Something went back out her throat, and she spat rust. "My life," she rasped. "I give my life."

So be it.

A breeze rose from the west side, snuffing the being's presence. It left the blazing inferno inside Ezril. She wanted to scream, but she couldn't even open her mouth. But just as the pain reached its climax, it flattened out to nothing.

She opened her eyes.

A flat expanse of nothing but white greeted her. This...

"Ezril?" a familiar voice speared through her senses. She turned to find someone she never thought she'd see again.

It's...

"Ardien!" She scrambled up and dashed towards him. When she threw her arms around him, she expected for her form to slip through and for wisps of smoke to scatter at her touch. Instead, a different kind of warmth pressed against her, and arms snaked around her waist and shoulders.

"Reyela," Ardien said through a gentle whisper in her ear. "It's nice to see you again."

Ezril smiled through the blurry veil shielding her vision. The white walls remained white, but deep inside, her world splashed with a thousand different colors. "That's seriously all you're going to say to me after all these years?"

They pulled apart, and a gasp flitted out of her lips. His eyes weren't fathomless voids. Not anymore. They were the infinite night sky with flecks of silver and gold dancing in them—the kind that could draw a soul in and hold them for all eternity.

Ardien smiled, making Ezril realize how much of the details of his face she had forgotten. "What do you want me to say, then?"

"I don't know," Ezril giggled. "What do you say to someone you haven't seen for a long time?"

"I missed you," Ardien said.

Ezril rested her head against his chest. Even without the heart beating underneath his skin, she felt it. He was alive, and so was she. Death wasn't the end, and this time, she was starting anew.

"I missed you too," she whispered. "And we won't ever say that to each other again."

Ardien ran a hand down her hair. "I know," he said. "I know."

She craned her neck at the blank expanse around them. "So, where to?"

"To eternity's end," he replied, cupping her cheek with one hand. "Always."