Chapter Seventy-Four

When I woke, I found myself in a bed. A soft, peaceful silence filled my ears. The light was dim, taking on the same cool, sleepy tinge which filled the air. I was strangely reminded of the beautiful gloom of the icy cave which I awoke within after Ereshkigal destroyed Kurngalfberg.

But this time I had not woken within an icy cave after my defeat against the Third Dragon Lord.

No.

I had woken within a graceful bedroom, after Aion pulled me from the chaotic forces of the Cataclysm.

My memories returned, along with the full, terrible understanding of them all. I was the Key to ascending Julius. And Julius needed to ascend into Godhood, as it was the only power and way to reversed the Tower's shattering. It was the only way to heal the world, the only way to stop both hemispheres from pulling apart and fading away into space.

I just wished, it was not him. I wished it was not Julius. Just as I wished it was not me whom Aion made to be the Key.

How cruel Aion, Fate and Destiny were, to create two lovers in perfect harmony, to also be the destined pair who would one day fight each other for the sake of preserving each other.

I knew it was what would come to pass. Julius would do everything in his power, absolutely everything, to stop me from giving him my essence so he may ascend. Whatever it would take to protect me from my Fate, Julius would do it.

Likewise, I would do everything in my power to save him. The destruction of the world, meant the destruction of everything upon and within it, including him. Despite how much it tore my heart, I eventually came to terms with the soul-crushing reality, I would do whatever it took to protect him.

I loved Julius, more than I loved the world.

And that was what made it so hard, because to love him, meant to lose him. I had to let go, to watch him become something more than just the man I had loved for a thousand years. I had to accept my fear, that Julius indeed had to change, to take Aion's place.

To become God.

My simple wish, to live a normal life with Julius, was impossible.

So bitter. So unfair, I thought with terrible grief. Many wished for great power, for immortality, for wealth and for the wings of a Daeva.

I wished to trade all of this in a heartbeat, if it meant I could live a normal life with my husband, just as ordinary Humans, to live, to create a family, to grow old together, and die together.

It was the easiest wish to be granted.

Yet because it was Julius and I, such a wish was impossible, because we were Weavers. We were Aion's chosen.

The oath and promise I had kept and maintained for a thousand years – to never die – would be broken after all.

Julius would never forgive me. If it were anyone else, he could follow. After his ascension as his job was done, he would die and release himself to the Aether to follow my soul.

But Julius never could.

Because he would be the new God. Atreia had to have a God. He would save the world, he would end the war and bring ever lasting peace and prosperity.

But he will be alone, for eternity.

My breath sighed out with crushing heaviness, and I closed my eyes. No tears fell, for the despair in my heart went beyond even that threshold.

I wanted to lie there forever. I wanted to close my eyes and never wake up, because then at least, the prophecy would not have to be fulfilled. At least then, Julius would still be Julius. I could not bear to witness his hatred against me, to see him raise his sword to fight me.

However, he would. Because I would do the same if our roles had been reversed. We were both as selfish as each other.

But if we are both selfish, then there would not be a world left. If we are both selfish, then we will both die, and take everyone down with us, I thought with tragic, agonising acceptance.

I had lost too many in my time due to not being strong enough. Too many battles I had lost. Too many had died because of me.

I could never forgive myself if the millions upon millions of dead and Displaced souls came about because of me. Yet I could forgive myself, if it was just me who died. Just me who was Displaced.

I could not ask for Julius's forgiveness.

All strength left my body with sickening dread. I did not want to get up. More than anything, I did not want this to happen.

: But you must, Aion's voice whispered in my mind. You must get up.

"Aion asks too much of you, Beralin. He always asked too much, from both you and Julius."

The familiar, male voice threaded into the air as fine as silk, as sleepy as the night, and as dark as the quietest of shadows which rolled in the solitary dark.

I exhaled softly and opened my eyes, sitting up. My hair was still white.

Beside the bed, sat a dark and lonely figure. His pale skin glowed softly like starlight within the gloom. His black hair draped down like a cloak over his dark clothes. His dark, sapphire eyes, still twinkled in the dim and cold light.

But they were not as vibrant as they used to be. This was a glitter of fading stars at the end of their long and timeless life. His eyes showed an incredible age. Age, wisdom, and heaviness.

Tired.

"Azphel," I breathed.

The familiar warmth of platonic love, blossomed in my chest to see him, but was also accompanied by great sorrow, as an understanding passed our gazes.

"How long has it been, Azphel?"

"Eight hundred years," Azphel said quietly. "Eight hundred years was the last I saw you." His voice was heavy, so heavy, like my heart. Filled with an incomprehensible loss.

I slipped from the bed and moved to him, where I knelt down beside his chair and gently took his hand. "Where is Amana?" I asked, my voice so quiet it was barely audible.

His exhausted eyes flickered to me, and there, I saw the despair he had shouldered alone. I understood why the world had never mentioned Azphel had a wife.

"Taken, by the Cataclysm," Azphel finally said, almost silently. "Just as you were, and Julius."

Azphel had taken the suffering of Asmodae upon him. He had rebuilt the broken half of Atreia into the thriving land of eternal twilight. His grief and fury, had been channelled into preserving the entire northern half of the planet.

But now, he was spent. He had lost his other half, his heart, his wife. He had walked this world alone for eight hundred years.

I bowed my head in mourning. Cedric. Celledon. Yvannia. Thalia, and Amana.

I had lost them all, one by one.

The Balaur had taken everything.

I gripped Azphel's hand. "I am, sorry." My voice broke.

Azphel's breath was slow and deep. "No," he breathed. "I am sorry. Though Julius had never blamed me, though he forgave me, it was me who lost control of Israphel. During your final two hundred year sleep before the Cataclysm, Julius waged all out war against the Balaur. He united us all under one banner, and conquered the entirety of north Balaurea in one century. In the second century, they resisted, and the Seraphim Lords began to lose faith, despite Julius gaining momentum. The Balaur defences were cracking, and ready to fall in the last fifty years. But Julius had grown sick. He took the weight of the world upon his shoulders, he fought every battle, to ensure that when you woke, you woke to a world without war. But what he did to you when he drained your power and life, broke him, and in the end, he collapsed. I made him sleep in the last ten years, to rest and recover. It was in those last ten years, that Israphel stabbed us in the back." His eyes filled with guilt. "Beralin. The Cataclysm happened, because of me."

I gritted my teeth and squeezed my eyes shut as I shook my head. "No," I said firmly. "I have been at the heart of every catastrophe. My existence, was what caused the destructions of every disaster. The fault, the blame, is mine. But the cost to pay it . . . is too great. I don't know if I can . . ."

"Which is why I am sorry," Azphel said with devastation.

I brought my heavy gaze up to him. "You know?"

He nodded once. "I do. I spent eight hundred years piecing the clues together. I know what it is you must do. And I know what it is that Julius must do. I am sorry, it had to happen to you both. Aion has been crueller to you and Julius, than to any of us combined."

My lower lip trembled, and at last, the tears filled my eyes. "Will Julius forgive me?"

Tears pricked at Azphel's own eyes, eyes which had looked they had not shed tears for almost a thousand years, not since Amana's Displacement.

"No, he will not," Azphel whispered. "Because if it were me, I would not have allowed Amana. I would have locked her away, hidden from the world. I would have born her hatred. As long as it meant she survived." He sighed softly. "But you are not a Musician, and you are not Amana. You are Beralin, a Weaver, Julius's equal. There is only one way to end this."

I bit on my trembling lip, biting back the sobs which I knew were threatening as the tears began to spill back down my face. I let go of his hand, and pressed it against my face. My inhalation, was staggered and broken with devastation.

Azphel knelt down with me, and I felt his hands against my upper arms. "I curse myself as I say these words, for in doing so, I betray you and my greatest friend and brother," he said quietly. "Atreia is dying, Beralin. Ten years ago, you disappeared from the world again. And for ten years, we searched the world and the Abyss for Aion's Tree."

I lowered my hand, and stared at the floor through blurred eyes, feeling my heart sink ever further as I knew what Azphel would say next.

He let go of me, and pulled a small, wooden medallion from his robes. "Triniel found it, in the ruins of the stone tree chamber, in the deepest, unmapped regions of the Abyss. It is yours now."

I stared at the Artefact in his hand. My own hands felt like lumps of metal, so heavy that I could not raise them to take it.

"We are tired, Beralin," Azphel finally admitted, his voice breaking. "The world has been broken for too long. We have been divided for too long. We are the ten lights who will combine with the Aether, to help Julius ascend into Godhood. With the healing of the world, we will no longer be needed. We will finally be released. That is our purpose. The Shedim understand and accept this. The Seraphim do not. Beralin, I . . . I do not have any more strength left."

With the breaking of Azphel's once powerful and strong voice, I raised my eyes to his, finally seeing Azphel truly.

He was a broken man, a shell and thinning shadow of what he once was. He was spent. Exhausted, barely hanging on by a thread.

"The world is dying, Beralin."

I could hear the hum and gentle rumble of the world's destabilisation.

The Aether hummed with the same throbbing buzz as the Abyss, filled with an aching and gnawing wobble which grated against the mind and vibrated deep within my bones. The discordant harmonics between the two Tower bases, fed unstable, powerful energy into the Abyss. And the Abyss threatened to explode outwards, creating the final blast to cast both hemispheres of Atreia out into space forever.

I lowered my head and sucked in a halting, miserable, but resigned breath. "How much time?"

Azphel was silent for a long time, and I sensed his shoulders fall.

"Three days. Atreia has three more days," he finally said. "We found you just last week, exactly as you were, when you protected us from Fregion."

I closed my eyes. My tears dripped quietly onto the floor in silence. Three days. That was all I had.

How ironic it was? I had lived for almost a thousand years now, and yet, I had no time. I never had any time.

I knew the stakes. I understood them the moment I realised what the prophecy truly meant. One thousand years in everyone else's time had passed. Yet all I had was three days.

In three days, I would die, one way or the other.

But only one of those ways meant the survival of the world. Only one of those ways, meant I could save everyone. I could save Julius, and release Azphel.

Even for the immortals, there reached a point when living became too long, too painful.

Whether by my will or not, the prophecy must be fulfilled. I don't have a choice. Julius and I never had a choice.

My jaw clenched. I raised my hand, and took the medallion from Azphel's slender claws.

My Fate, my Destiny, was sealed.

I bowed my head in crushing despair.

In my heart, I said goodbye to those who were left to me. I said goodbye to Marchutan, to Azphel, to Surion, Michael, Amia and Seregon.

I said goodbye . . . to Julius.

Azphel embraced me. My tears soaked into his shoulder.

"I am sorry, Beralin," Azphel exhaled with hopelessness. "I wish none of this had ever happened. I wish the Cataclysm never came. I wish . . . I wish I did not have to ask this of you. I cannot ask you to forgive me either."

Just one, single sob, heaved through my chest. "I will always forgive you. I will always forgive you both. I just wish, it never had to come to this."

"As do I. With all my heart."

We held each other. Not as two Empyrean Lords, but as two friends, as a brother and sister-in-arms. A first, and last time.

Azphel finally let go, and stood. He held his hand out to me.

For me, it had barely been a day since I last took his hand to haul me to my feet, back in the Tower of Eternity when Israphel had pinned me down.

For Azphel however, it had been eight hundred years.

As I did then, so did I now. I took his hand, and he pulled me to my feet.

"The right decision, is always the hardest one," Azphel murmured softly. "I cannot do what you and Julius must. But, I will help you, one last time."

I brought my gaze back up to his face. Though my eyes were filled with tears, I saw clearly. I had to.

"Julius will fight to stop you, and so will the Seraphim Lords," Azphel sighed heavily. "Though there is no friendship between Julius and Ariel, they will unite if it means preventing you from fulfilling your Destiny."

"Why Ariel?" I asked, my voice thick with emotion.

"She fears her own Displacement more than anything else. She will stop at nothing, if it ensures her preservation. Ariel never understood the full gravitas of what the prophecy meant by 'ten lights extinguished.' Therefore I will join you in the Abyss, for that is where we are all Destined to make our final stand."

My hands clenched with sad finalisation. "Is everyone there?"

Azphel nodded. "Nearly. Both the Shedim and Seraphim Lords are fighting the Dragon Lords in the Abyss. It is the final fight. Though we are spread thin, the Shedim Lords will defend you from both, if and when the time comes. You will need your entire focus when Julius eventually tries to stop you. He was – and still remains to this day – the most powerful Daeva in the world."

I pressed a hand against my chest. It ached more than I could bear from the heartbreak, as well as trepidation.

"I will not win," I said hoarsely.

Azphel's expression softened with sadness. "It was never your Fate to win, Beralin. Your Destiny, was just to succeed. Every trial you encountered, every battle you fought, every mountain you had to climb, has been in preparation for this final meeting. Because it is only now, that you are strong enough to stand against him, against Aion's Vessel. Only you, could bear this impossible cost. Only you, are strong enough to accept what has to be."

My shoulders fell. How heavy my entire body felt with overwhelming reluctance. So badly, I wished I did not have to do this. So much I wished for the prophecy to not be, that I struggled to breathe as the agony of my heart suffocated me.

: It is time, Beralin, Aion's voice said gently.

My grip over the wooden medallion, tightened with nauseating dread. Despite how much it felt my heart and soul were being ripped apart, I also knew, with defeated resignation, that both Aion, and Azphel, were right.

I inhaled a deep, sorrowful breath and brought my gaze back up to Azphel's face. My despair, was mirrored in his eyes.

But, despite it all, I dredged up my strength, and smiled up at him. Azphel's life had been dark and cursed from the beginning, condemned to walk alone.

But he was not alone. He had friends. He had Julius, Amana, and me. At least, I would be with him in our last moments.

As if Azphel sensed my stepping into my Destiny, he pulled something else from his robe.

A simple Cube. It had been a long time since I last saw the modern day equivalents.

"Triniel also found these in her search for Aion's Tree," Azphel whispered. "Your armour."

I took the Cube with a resigned sigh. I was going to need it. I prayed I would not, but after all these years, I knew better now than to doubt my instinct, no matter how unwell it made me feel with dread.

"I guess, I will see you on the other side, in death. May we meet again, within the Aether, my friend," I said, my voice thick with tears through my smile. "It has been an honour, Azphel."

Tears slipped from Azphel's own eyes. He placed a hand against my shoulder, and smiled in return.

"It is no wonder Julius loves you so much. You were always too good a woman. The purest of us all." He squeezed my shoulder. "Goodbye, Beralin Haelsen. It has been a pleasure."

He lowered his hand down.

Emotion clogged my throat. I could say no more.

And so I leaned forward, and kissed him on the cheek. It was a kiss for both he and Amana. Of apology, and thanks.

Azphel bowed his head to me. It was his familiar, gentleman's nod of fondness, respect, and friendship.

One last time. We will bear arms together.

With a final breath, I looked out toward the window and into Asmodae's eternal night.

I warped into the Weave.

xxx

Michael strode through the plaza of Teminon Landing, while chaos continued to ensue around him. Commanders bellowed out orders, Brigade Generals themselves fought in the endless sky of the Abyss. And ever constant were the ripples and booms and cracks of Aether from beyond the deepest regions of Reshanta, as Elyos, Asmodians and Balaur alike, all fought each other.

Both Seraphim and Shedim Lords had entered the realm to fight the Dragon Lords, who's horrifying roars bellowed and screeched through space.

The Abyss was destabilising as the Tower bases began to separate once again. Lady Siel's power and freezing of the Cataclysm, had finally worn thin. The frozen time which had encased the broken Tower of Eternity, was cracking.

With the chaos of the world collapsing, the Dragon Lords still thought they could use this catastrophe to try and take it over. But they still did not seem to realise there won't be a world left to rule if the Tower separated entirely!

Michael's jaw clenched as he strode past the troops running to their stations and to rejoin the fight. Fallen Daevas who materialised at the Obelisk, fell to their knees in tears, as the horror of the battle destroyed their minds and resolves.

This was unlike any battle ever fought. Tiamat's invasion was nothing compared to this.

Michael felt fear, despite his strength of character. He would be a fool to try and lighten the mood with his usual wit and charm.

As he strode to the fortress, he was surprised to find Surion also heading in the same direction. Had he been summoned by Julius too?

Within the fortress, instead of being summoned to the command centre, Michael followed Surion into a quieter office to the side. Both men were surprised to find Amia and Seregon there too, stood before the desk, behind which Julius stood with his hands clasped behind his back.

"We're all here?" Seregon asked, his pale eyebrows rising as Michael and Surion entered.

"All of us, but Bera," Amia said. She had searched most heavily for Beralin ever since her disappearance. But no one ever found her. It was as if their Assassin had simply vanished.

The void left behind in their hearts, had been a big one. They still held onto the hope she was alive. She had to be.

"She will come back," Michael said, resting his hand on Amia's shoulder with a reassuring squeeze.

Surion exhaled heavily, but his posture straightened. "The world is ending and everyone is at war with each other in the Abyss. Why have you summoned the four of us here, Julius, when you know we should be on the front?"

Their Brigade General was stood facing the windows. His eyes were far and distant, gazing in the direction of the Divine Fortress which floated somewhere in the centre of Reshanta.

"Thank you, for showing me the beauty of such ordinary, and priceless friendship," Julius murmured. "Bera was right. How I hoped this day would never come."

The four glanced at each other in confusion. "Julius?" Michael asked.

Julius sighed. His reflected gaze in the window was a heavy one, eyes which suddenly seemed to reveal a fathomless age which none of them had ever noticed before, until now. They were eyes which contained a concealed despair. But also a hardened resolve.

A frightening one.

Julius's shoulder's straightened. "This is my last command to the four of you. Avoid the centre of Reshanta at all costs. Pull your troops back to engage forces around Teminon. Do not venture anywhere near the Divine Fortress, because I cannot guarantee your safety, nor survival."

Michael blinked, taken aback by such a command.

Surion had the same response, before his eyes hardened. "Last command? What are you talking about, Julius? You sound like you are about to die. We are all in this together. How can you ask us to retreat when Elysea needs us the most right now?"

Something shifted in the room which startled them all, for Julius's eyes began to glow with an emerald fire. Green mist wafted around him, like a wraith, and a hidden presence slowly yawned into existence.

Julius turned to face them at last, and as he did so, his Sorcerer's robes morphed into armour. A cloak rippled down his back, and the group of four found themselves staring at someone they barely recognised, for they stared at an entity who looked like Julius, yet projected the power and suffocating presence of an Empyrean Lord. His armour was regal, ancient, more powerful, and frightening, than anything they had ever seen.

Michael was taller than all of them, but here, Julius dwarfed them all. Julius's sheer force of presence, commanded immediate obedience, whether it was willingly given or not.

"I ask, because I will not let you die," Julius said. "I will not let any of you die. Not you, nor Bera."

His voice was infused with power, with overwhelming Aether, so strong that Michael felt Amia step back into Michael and recoil away.

"What are you, Julius?" Surion grunted against the twisting and coiling Aether of emerald light.

Julius held his eyes, binding them where they stood.

"I am the Empyrean Lord the world forgot," he spoke.

There was an Aether within his words, which held an undeniable truth. It was a truth which wove into their minds, becoming as much a fact to their psyches as their names were to their bodies.

Within such Aether, within such a statement, Michael found himself believing with dismay, because all of the fleeting, strange mysteries which had surrounded Julius in the past, now all came together. His skills on the battlefield had been unrivalled whenever he took to the field. Elysea looked to him and his Legion for leadership and guidance, for reassurance, when the Seraphim Lords remained confined to their palaces within Sanctum.

People had always said Julius was like an Empyrean Lord whenever they saw him in combat or in his noble suit and uniform to attend political and military functions. Those had been rare occasions. But when it happened, heads always turned to him. It had always been a surprise, given Elysea saw him primarily as a librarian within the Library of Sages.

However, now, Michael understood why the sleeping power and expertise existed within Julius. Because he was indeed, in fact, an Empyrean Lord.

How though? Why?

There were so many questions, so many confusions, as well as so many sudden heartbreaks to suddenly comprehend Julius had lied to them all this time.

Julius left all of those questions unanswered, as he looked at them all in turn. And within such eyes, they saw his shocking, true age, they saw his power, his strength, his true place in the world. They saw a fearsome commander, an unrivalled strategist who put all of Atreia's to shame. They saw a terror, which rivalled the reputation of the First Dragon Lord.

But they also saw a softness beneath the the hardness. They saw his memories of their times together, of the laughter and drinks they shared, the banter, and friendship. This too, was as true as what he had concealed.

There was love in his ancient eyes, and as a result, there was also an unyielding hardness. His command to them bound them, as surely as if Julius's words were Aion's.

The light and mist of his swaying aura, swirled around Julius, and his form stretched and thinned, becoming transparent, until it disappeared, unlike any form of teleportation they had ever seen.

Their friend, and their Brigade General disappeared to soar through the Abyss.

It was the last time they ever saw Julius, as Julius the man and Daeva.