Chapter Sixty-Seven
Barely seconds after Thalia had spoken, the pressure-wave of scorching wind blasted out over the sea with such force that the ships in the water, were capsized.
Fire came immediately next, like a burning wall which engulfed the ships still floating. The Daevas onboard did not have a chance, as the sudden wall of fire swallowed them in a single, horrifying instant. Their souls were Displaced immediately, snuffed out one by one like candle flames blown out by the great typhoon.
Within the fire and howl of the approaching burning hurricane, was the static and crackling boom of lightning.
My eyes widened with dismay as I sighted just what rode the destruction through the sky and over the sea to Vengar.
Not one, but three great Dragons.
They surged through the sky like meteors from space. One of fire. One of lightning. And one of wind. Combined as one, it was a cataclysmic tidal wave of death from across the horizon, blotting out the entire region of the sky from one end to the other.
Fire was Fregion. Lightning was Beritra. Wind was Meslamtaeda.
Three Dragon Lords. And Fregion was the greatest of them all.
I am going to die, I realised with a mortifying, sinking heart. We all are. This entire continent.
Unless I bought time. Unless I did something big enough right now to catch the immediate attention of an Empyrean Lord who was close enough in the world to see, to feel, and to hear.
I inhaled a deep and sharp breath, channelling my terror into strength. Greater than I had ever experienced and summoned before. I had no choice.
I had an oath to keep. I had people to protect. One of them was standing right next to me.
The Weave surged and curled around me, like the great unfurling of wings which spanned the width of the cliff itself. Blinding and powerful.
With a shout which echoed out from the cliff face and across the sea, I spun, and with that spinning momentum, I struck out, using my blades as the channel for my power. A great line of green light cracked out through the sky, a wave of its own to meet the onslaught coming for the continent.
Static, fiery storm, met the pure emerald light of the Weave with a catastrophic explosion which ripped from one end of the horizon to the other, blasting all cloud away, rippling the waves of the sea outwards like a tidal surge. Land cracked. Ears rang from the deafening boom, sending birds on the continent up into a panicked, screeching and screaming flurry of flight from their sleep.
The enormous forms of Meslamtaeda and Beritra, were halted by the strike. But the greatest Dragon, the one writhed in flames and burning as bright as the sun, flapped his gigantic, flaming wings, blasting my strike away from the force of his beating wings.
His attention was on me, like a great eye in the sky which saw only me. No other. It was not like Aion's attention.
Fregion's was as searing as the hottest and most unbearable of flames, one which violently stripped skin from bone, pierced my mind with shocking agony unlike any other.
It was paralysing.
And through his attention, I felt his intention.
He had not come to conquer the continent back, despite being able to with two Dragon Lords by his side. He had watched and waited, biding his time on Beritra's experience and observation from the very beginning.
They had come for me.
Because I was another Weaver. A Weaver who was great, but still learning. A potential rival to them, and one which had to be eliminated before another Empyrean Lord could come to my aid. Because even one Empyrean Lord could not face three Dragon Lords alone.
There had to be at least one other to stand next to them.
I was standing alone. As great as Thalia was, she was no Empyrean Lord.
Before my own strike even had time to diffuse away, Fregion roared an earth-shattering roar. And within his roar, streaked a terrible strike of destruction from his volcanic maw.
The air shimmered with heat as the oxygen burned away. The land lit up as if it was day. Water vaporised to steam immediately, and the ground cracked as all moisture disappeared.
I gasped, throwing my hands up to the sky, Weaving the greatest barrier I could conjure between the cliff, and the spitting, thundering, meteoric ball and beam of fire which streaked down from the sky to where we stood.
Strike met barrier.
The barrier splintered instantaneously with a jarring jolt of pain. The main strike had been blocked, but its core impact penetrated through. The cliff plateau caved as if a meteor had indeed fallen from the sky, impacting upon the world with a boom and shake which was felt across its tectonic plates, leaving a gigantic crater behind, with me at its centre.
The core of Fregion's strike collided with me, violently knocking me back into the ground with a searing flash of pain to my head.
Everything went black and silent.
xxx
Thalia staggered to her feet, her ears ringing from the catastrophic boom and collision which rattled her core. Aether rippled through the air, rumbling with static and chaos.
She should have died, been Displaced in that single, cataclysmic strike.
But the strike had never been meant for her. The wrath and attention of the Dragon Lords was directed at one entity, one person. Beralin had become threat enough to warrant Fregion's actual appearance and arrival.
Beralin's first strike had been powerful enough to halt Meslamtaeda and Beritra. Her barrier had held enough to repel Fregion's retaliation.
But it was not enough. Against one, Beralin would be able to hold her ground. But not against three.
Once again, Beralin was the target, and once again, she was alone.
Thalia raised her head, fury swimming in her eyes as she sighted Beralin, unconscious on her back in the burning crater. Blood pooled beneath the unconscious Daeva's head.
Fregion's maw opened again.
Thalia's world slowed, as a sudden calm fell over her mind with surprising, yet easy acceptance.
Beralin had saved her life twice, almost at the cost of her life on both occasions. Without Beralin, Thalia should have died a long time ago. In a strange way, Beralin was like God, having literally descended from the sky, and those whom she had saved, had lived on borrowed time, for Beralin's very presence made the impossible, suddenly possible.
Beralin's life had been unfair, from the moment Aion sent her. Dragon Lords found her wherever she went. Each time, broke her a little more.
This time, was going to be the final time. The Dragon Lords had come to finish their work.
Beralin's complete and ultimate destruction would be today.
No, Thalia thought.I am not an Empyrean Lord, but I am still an original Daeva. I am one of Aion's. My power is not enough, but my divine core is.
Tears spilled over Thalia's eyes as she flashed over the cracked and charred ground to her daughter.
I will repay my debt to you, gladly, Beralin. Too long have you stood alone.
Fregion released his strike. Thalia unlocked her divine core, releasing her essence from her physical body and felt the warmth of Aion envelope her in His welcoming embrace.
She felt no fear anymore. No regret. Just sadness.
Forgive me, Sudryl.
Thalia flashed to Beralin and stood over her, and turning her shining body to Fregion and his Lords.
I will be your shield today, Bera. Protect my son . . . when I am gone.
Thalia smiled in triumph. Because she knew she had bought Sudryl and Julius enough time. She knew she thwarted the Dragon Lords today. It was her greatest victory.
Fregion's fire collided against her.
Thalia's soul shattered.
xxx
It had been so quick, barely seconds, that the onslaught of Aether ripped through the air with clashes of power between the Weave and fire.
Julius warped to the source immediately, materialising at the same time Sudryl did, within a crater which had blasted away the entire length of the cliff along northern Vengar.
Fire swooped around the crater and sky, diffused by an Aether which had blocked it.
Lightning and wind struck immediately next, and Julius and Sudryl raised their hands to build a combined barrier to shield them, and the two most important women beneath, from the horrifying power of two Dragon Lords combined.
For once, Sudryl and Julius felt the same thing.
Horror.
Thalia's form disintegrated along the edges, like petals of light rising up into the sky as she fell to her knees in front of Beralin. Beralin herself was unconscious at the centre of the crater, with blood pooling into the cracked ground from beneath her head.
Two things crystallised in Julius's mind. Beritra had told Fregion of Beralin's existence, and at last they had come to take action. Beritra had said Fregion would not risk a third Weaver to join the ranks of the Empyrean. They would not risk another Julius.
Fregion had come to eliminate Beralin personally, and brought Beritra and Meslamtaeda with him to ensure her destruction would be certain.
No Empyrean Lord could face three Dragon Lords at once. Beralin had been powerful enough to give them pause, had been powerful enough to block Fregion enough to still survive. Just like a true Empyrean Lord.
But against all three, Beralin could never win. There had to be at least one other.
Yet there had been no other in the first few seconds. No other to defend her against Fregion's second attack. No one but Thalia.
"Thalia!" Sudryl gasped, his voice breaking with horror and grief, as he took her into his arms.
Through her fading form, she smiled up at him as exhaustion swept across her face. "I will not let her die," she whispered. "I repay my debt at last."
Beralin stirred, and Julius brought her into his arms, cradling her head carefully in his hand. Her warm blood coated his fingers.
Julius could not breathe.
"Sudryl! Julius!" Azphel's shout came through the diffusing of Beritra's and Meslamtaeda's combined strike.
Azphel's materialisation was accompanied by Siel's, rolling with such force that the three Dragon Lords reared and roared their screeching, howling defiance.
The Lord of Shadow summoned his sword of darkness, and the Lady of Time summoned her spear of light. And both shadow and light, unfurled their magnificent wings to take to the skies, striking the three Dragon's back with horrendous vengeance.
Against two such powerful Empyrean Lords, even Fregion would be given reason to pause, while the actual two most powerful Empyrean Lords in the world, were paralysed by horror and despair.
"No!" Sudryl cried. "Why did you not wait, Thalia? Why did you not wait?"
Thalia shook her head. "No time."
Julius felt tears of grief fill his eyes. They had been a fraction too slow, too late.
Why? Why am I always too late?
Beralin's eyes blinked open. They were disorientated and her face was pale with nausea. She could not see clearly. But she saw enough, her eyes landing through a blurred haze on Thalia fading form.
Thalia's eyes met hers, and peaceful relief flitted through Thalia's hazel gaze to see Beralin alive.
"Forgive me, Julius. Sudryl, I leave you today," Thalia sighed. "But . . . you can always find me . . . in the Aether."
Shock and horror swam into Beralin's eyes, giving her a strength which did not exist as she sat up and out from Julius's grasp, and reached out.
"Thalia! No!"
Beralin's shaking hand passed through petals of light, as Thalia's sigh and soul, diffused into the wind, like ash, for all eternity. Only Thalia's hairpin remained, falling to the ground.
Sudryl watched his wife pass away, his expression distorting with the greatest heartbreak and horror a man could bear.
Beralin cowed into the ground, picking up the hairpin in her hand, and her soul shifted with the sickening heave of fracturing grief. The Weave and Aether surged around her, engulfing her body in green light which pierced the sky.
Another soul lost.
"No!" She screamed.
Her voice held shocking power. Her scream split the stone of the land, conveying the anguish she, Julius and Sudryl felt in one, terrible word.
Why? Why did it always happen to Beralin? Why did death hunt her so? Why was death so cruel to take those around her? How could Fate take Thalia away?
How could the world be this cruel to Julius? To target his wife constantly. To destroy his friends. To kill his mother.
It goaded him. It pushed him.
One step too far this time.
Fury erupted in Julius's heart like never before.
He stood, turning to the Dragon Lords who fought Azphel and Siel. The two Empyrean Lords held them back with perfect unison.
But Julius did not want them held back. He wanted them gone. They had gone too far this time. They stepped over the line – and so did Julius.
Fury consumed him. Hatred corrupted him.
: YOU GO TOO FAR, DRAGON LORDS, Julius's divine voice boomed through the fabric of the world, as commanding, as great, and as terrible as a God. KNOW YOUR PLACE.
He held his hand out to the side, and his brilliant sword blazed into existence. The Aether of the world responded to his fury.
xxx
Fregion's strike had been the most terrible attack I had experienced. The terror of three Dragon Lords was unrivalled. The shocking grief of Thalia's Displacement to defend me, tore my heart and soul unlike any other pain ever felt.
I was never strong enough. Why was I never strong enough?
But all of those feelings paled in comparison to the paralysing fear Julius struck in my heart upon his telepathic voice. It spanned the space of the world. It commanded attention. Allegiance and obedience. It was all-knowing, all-seeing, all-hearing. It shook the foundations of every thing in existence.
Because his was not the voice of an Empyrean Lord. It was the voice, the howl, the thunderous roar of a furious God, for no other voice besides Aion Himself, commanded suchoverwhelming and absolute power.
I raised my heavy and dizzy head. Julius stood in front of me, facing the battle in the sky, divine sword in hand which shrieked with power. His hand was bloodied, and I realised dumbly it was my blood, from the back of my head.
The blood on his hand, twisted the aura of the sword, and its swirling, misty presence, combined with Julius's own, lashed out and coiled with growing, crimson fury of shocking and catastrophic proportions.
His body shone, as the Aether and the Weave gathered to him upon his command. He called it to him, and the world's power obeyed, as the light and heart of the Tower of Eternity, intensified to become as blinding as the sun itself in response to Julius's existence.
I knew it, instinctively, because as the world's Aether and Weave answered him, I suddenly felt my own strength, my Aether which had awakened upon Thalia's death, draining away from me.
The world's power, was somehow going through me, to Julius, yet at the cost of my own power, my own . . . my own . . . essence and life?
Julius's drained pulled on me, like a sun wherein its gravitational pull caught an object flying by, and trapped it within its orbit at an angle and trajectory it could not escape. Its gravity pulled it closer to the burning, scorching heat.
It hauled me to my feet, like a puppet on strings, and with frightened dismay, I resisted against it.
But it was like I stood within a torrent of water, its flow pushing me from behind, forcing me to take a step forward towards Julius, when I desperately wanted and needed to step back, to run – away.
The light which had surrounded me, flowed into Julius, and his own presence grew, magnifying beyond what any Empyrean Lord had ever possessed and projected.
Terror and horror clutched my chest as my essence began to drain away, powering Julius beyond anything which had ever walked the earth.
"Julius!" I shouted. "Julius! Stop!"
He did not hear me. His fury and hatred blinded him, deafened him. His power evolved him beyond any physical entity. The Julius I knew and loved, was disappearing, and the dark foreboding which had lain at the back of my mind for three hundred years, crystallised at the forefront of my mind to realise what he was becoming.
In a heartbreaking, and soul shattering instant, I finally, finally understood what Aion's Key and Vessel meant.
I understood the prophecy. Perfectly.
I knew what I had to do in my own and original time. And I knew what happened to my early memories of the Weave. I knew what Julius of my time had been doing.
'Through trials and attempts to blind, she shall See'
Aion put me on the paths through the trials. But Aion was not the one who blinded me. He muted me, but He wanted me to see. To learn.
The one who had been blinding me, hiding my memories, was Julius, because the Julius of my original time, not this one, had finally worked it out.
The dots connected. The riddle finally had an answer.
The tapestry, was now clear.
It horrified me, beyond anything in the universe.
: Pull away from him!
Aion's command cracked through my mind.
: You must not touch him like this! Not yet. Not until the appointed hour of the End Days. Pull away. Pull away!
I gasped with shock and tears and resisted harder. : I can't! I cried. He is too strong!
My body weakened as my strength, my Aether, abandoned me with frightening speed, becoming Julius's.
No. No! NO!
xxx
Through his fury and grief, Sudryl was commanded to stand, to take stock of the second horror he was witnessing.
As Julius's fury and hatred consumed him, he pulled on the Aether of the world. It came to him, answering his divine command.
But came to him through Beralin. Her power, was the conduit for the world's power, for Aion's power. But only Julius had the ability to command it. And only Beralin had the ability to channel it.
Julius's attention was only on the Dragon Lords, his every intention to banish them for eternity. And in this moment, Sudryl saw not his son, but a God. A God in physical form, one who could destroy the Dragon Lords once and for all.
But at the cost of Beralin's essence. Her life.
Her strength failed her as her resistance against Julius's pull, defeated her. Her divine essence began to leave her. Yet Beralin's strength of will still fought back.
Her skin turned wan and grey. Her black hair, bleached white from the roots to the tips. The emerald glow of her eyes, began to fade. Those eyes gazed up at Julius's back with grief . . . and mortifying realisation.
Her eyes were haunted. Something clicked in her gaze,
She understood the prophecy in its entirety, even more so than Sudryl, who now understood what Aion's Vessel and Key were and meant.
: SAVE HER! Aion boomed in Sudryl's mind.
Sudryl just lost his wife. He was watching his son twist into something terrible beyond his reach. His daughter-in-law, the woman Thalia gave her life for, was dying before Sudryl's very eyes.
He lost Thalia. He was not going to lose Julius. He was not going to lose Beralin.
Sudryl warped to Beralin, grabbing her around the waist as her legs gave way, and cocooned her in a Woven net which cut off Julius's drain.
Simultaneously, Sudryl pulled Siel and Azphel abruptly from the sky with his mind, causing them to jolt back to the crumbling cliff edges with confusion.
Their confusion disappeared with shocking realisation, as Julius swung his sword in a single strike.
The strike cracked out with mind-numbingly shocking force across the sky. It burned through the three Dragon Lords, ripping through their scales, shredding through their wings. Their roars were terrible sounds, because for the first time since their existence, there was the screech of pain amongst the bellowing roar of rage.
The three Dragon Lords managed to self-teleport away before their destruction was complete, and Julius's single attack continued up through the sky, through the atmosphere, to strike the moon in orbit as the next object to intersect the slice of Godly strength.
The moon split, and Sudryl's eyes widened from the sheer force of Julius's power to destroy the celestial body in space. Its collision reverberated across the world with a shock wave.
Sudryl's broken heart, filled with bitter betrayal as his understanding came together.
: This is what you want of my son? Sudryl demanded his father and God, with terrible pain and rage. I cannot let you do this, Aion. You ask too much.
Aion's direct influence came over Sudryl, forcing him to drop Beralin and take a step back. Aion engulfed Sudryl, suspending him to float above the ground, bound in the green Weave of Aion's existence and body. His hold was absolute.
: What you have discovered, you cannot tell him, Aion said.
Sudryl gritted his teeth. His fingers curled into fists as he fought against God's hold on him. His eyes landed on Beralin, lovely Beralin, as her faded green eyes dragged themselves up to him. Defeated understanding passed between them. They both knew. They both knew what Aion intended.
Tears filled Beralin's exhausted and weakening eyes, just as tears filled Sudryl's blazing emerald ones. Sudryl loved them both. They were both his children.
: No! You cannot do this! You cannot ask either of them to do this! Julius WILL defy you!
: Thus why Beralin exists. Julius can defy me. But he cannot defy her. Beralin is my Key.
Disbelief exploded in Sudryl's heart. : You blackmail my son, using the one person he loves the most. But she will protect him, at all costs!
: She will protect him. Hencewhy I created and chose her. She will fulfil the prophecy, because it is the only way to protect and save him from the future, Aion said, His voice becoming softer, as if He did possess remorse after all.
: What future? Sudryl demanded, straining against God's hold. What are you concealing from me? From him?
: You think you understand the prophecy. But you only grasp at half, because you are only from one time. Beralin lives within two, and as of today,knows all sides.For that, she must now sleep until I wake her.She carries the heaviest burden. Julius must not know. Not until Beralin's task here is complete.No matter what. When I return you to the new world, you will understand. I am . . . sorry.
Sudryl stared at his son. And Julius turned around. As he turned around, the fury and hatred from his eyes and expression, disappeared, as he saw Beralin on her hands and knees, with Azphel kneeling down next to her to take her into his supporting arms, and Sudryl bound and floating in the air.
Julius's eyes stared straight into Sudryl's soul, with horror and confusion.
Sudryl could finally understand Julius's unease and growing hatred for Aion, and he stared back at his son. Julius had always been too intelligent for his own good.
"Julius, I'm sorry –!"
Aion pulled Sudryl, his body disintegrating into the Aether of the world, where God bound and sealed him deep within the world of Atreia, to sleep until it was time to waken again. Sudryl's grief, his despair, and his fury and confusion, were silenced.
There, he would remain silenced, for the next nine hundred years.
His return, would herald the coming of the End Days.
xxx
Julius watched in horror as Aion took his father away. He had never seen Aion do such a thing before.
Aion bound and took Sudryl away, and Sudryl's presence, his very essence and existence, disappeared from the world of Atreia, as if the First Empyrean Lord had been snuffed out, like a candle.
Julius's mother had been killed by Fregion. Aion bound and stole his father.
Beralin was . . . diminished.
How could so much misfortune happen in one instance?
In the chaos and confusion of his mind, he turned to the one thing which was still left to him, if barely. Julius rushed to Beralin, who lay propped up in Azphel's arms. Her skin was wan, grey, like her lips. Her hair – where once had been as black as Azphel's – was now white. Her half open eyes, took on the same, faded grey within the green.
It was as if the very colour of life, had been drained from her.
Her presence was small, as drained as she appeared.
Diminished. A warrior who had been defeated in battle, and lay waiting for the darkness to come. Her will, was broken.
"Bera!" Julius was horrified.
How did this happen? Julius had been so consumed by his rage, and desire to destroy the Dragon Lords, that all else had faded from his attention. They had come to kill Beralin. They had murdered his mother.
He lost sight of his way.
Azphel held up a hand against Julius. "Stay where you are!" Azphel ordered, his voice as hard as steel, with eyes equally so.
Julius stopped, stunned. "Azphel!" He hissed.
Azphel's eyes flashed to Siel. "Siel. Find Israphel and freeze the moon, both in time and space," he commanded. "Stop its fragments from falling onto the planet, lest we condemn the world to an extinction-level catastrophe."
Julius had destroyed the moon. No Empyrean Lord, not even a Dragon Lord, could have managed such a feat.
But Julius did. The power lay dormant within him. It only activated just now.
"Yes, Azphel," Siel said, her voice tight, casting Julius a wary glance, before she disappeared like a shooting star through the rippling, turbulent sky.
Azphel's dark stare returned to Julius. "You did this to Beralin. I promised you – back at Kurngalfberg – that I would tell you if you ever stepped over the line. Today, you stepped over your line. Tell me you will not harm her again, or I will keep you from her, for both of your sakes."
Julius stared at him, allowing his sword to fade back into his Aether. He could barely understand what Azphel was saying.
Horrified and furious, he stepped forward, ignoring Azphel's warning glare. "You think I would harm my own wife? You think I would do this?" He flung his hand to Beralin.
Julius knelt down on Beralin's other side, but before he could touch her, Azphel's pulled her closer to him, away from Julius, and with his other hand, it flashed out, grasping the clothes of Julius's torso above his heart, holding him where he was.
"I watched you, Julius," Azphel hissed harshly. "That strike of yours, your power to repel three Dragon Lords and destroy the moon, came from her. You drained her! I don't know how you did it, butyou were the one who almost killed Beralin! What are you, Julius? For the sake of our friendship, our brotherhood, answer me!"
Azphel's words were harsher and harder than any hit Julius had ever taken. It struck him in a way he never thought possible, as if a blade had been rammed through his heart and then twisted, magnifying the pain beyond what his mind and body could endure.
He recalled the growing strength of his power, how it surged through him, changing him, evolving him, into something more.
The taste of an ascension. Of Godhood.
Before it had been cut off.
Julius felt the blood drain from his face. His entire body turned cold. A tremble awakened within the depths of his bones, and a rising, sickening and mortifying horror, took hold of him.
'His Vessel shall take His place, at the cost of she who is dear.'
The shock was so unforgivably terrible, that Julius almost retched.
But Beralin shifted, struggling with pathetic weakness against Azphel's hold.
"Stop," she said. Her voice was clear, but it was weak, as faded as she was.
Azphel's expression fell. "But Beralin –"
"Both of you, please stop," she wheezed. "Must speak . . . before my strength fades. Julius . . . where . . .?"
Julius's heart felt as if it were being compressed within a vice, on the verge of bursting in agony. Azphel released his hold on her, and she turned to Julius.
Reluctantly, Azphel relinquished Beralin into Julius's arms, where he cradled her to him. Julius did not realise he was weeping as he held her. Her body was so weak. Her skin was so cold. Her expression so tired.
So white. So pale. The colour of life, had gone. The only colour, was the blood which soaked her white hair from her head wound.
His tears fell down onto her cheeks. "What have I done?" He wept. "I am sorry, Bera. I am so, sorry. How can I ask you to forgive me?"
"I forgive you. I will always . . . forgive you," she whispered. "But both of you, must stand together. I feel the long sleep approaching . . . and you must both listen . . . please."
Julius shook his head. "No," his voice broke. "Don't leave me. Take back your forgiveness. Just do not leave me."
She smiled faintly. It was the only thing which was warm. "I will wake again in two . . . hundred years. Azphel, Julius . . . must protect each other. Tell Azphel . . . our true titles."
Two hundred years. That was around the time she said the Tower would break.
Azphel bowed his head, his expression cracking with unexpected despair. Beralin was his sister in-arms. He loved her as such.
"What titles?" Azphel said, his voice quiet with emotion.
Her greying green eyes, fluttered to Azphel softly. "The prophecy . . ." she breathed. With each blink, her eyes remained closed for longer.
Julius's grip on her tightened.
"Tell him, Julius," she said quietly, returning her gaze to him, but they were no longer seeing. "Brothers in spirit . . . you need each other . . . promise me . . . I cannot stay awake . . . any longer . . ."
Julius gritted his teeth, touching his forehead to hers.
His heart shattered.
"I promise," he whispered, Weaving his words into an oath for her to hear. "In return, promise me you will come back."
She smiled faintly as her eyes closed. "I promise . . . I shall wake . . . to you . . ." she sighed.
Weak and as drained as she was, with what was left of her strength, Beralin spoke. There was no Weave in her words. There was no more strength left. But Julius felt her heart within her words. It was the only solace he could take, despite how it destroyed him.
With all of her strength now spent, Beralin's awareness and consciousness, finally let go, and her body sagged in his arms. The seal of divine and Destined sleep, pulled her into its long, slow slumber, to recover all which Julius had taken, stolen and drained from her.
Julius knelt there, with his wife in his arms, sobbing heavily as he embraced her. The horror of what he had done to Beralin, the horror of what their prophetic titles truly meant, broke Julius.
Completely.