Flynn continued to fight this fruitless war.

Despite the knowledge that they fought against nothing, that these people died for nothing, he kept fighting. Because what else was he to do? To suddenly stop would arouse suspicion, and as much as it hurt to admit, his power is what kept the death rate down. Even if Yuri was powerful and brilliant in his own way, Flynn had the blessing of divinity to safeguard his men. Yuri had luck.

And Fate despised luck.

For another year Flynn marched out of Dahngrest to besiege the barrier of Zaphias. Yet even if it seemed like they were gaining ground, Flynn knew it was a farce. Nothing save another god could shatter the barrier of Zaphias that Phaeroh's gift, the Sword Stair, had bestowed. The Zaphians continue to be cradled in the warmth of peace, dreaming of their destined victory as the men and women of Dahngrest held close to them a false sense of security.

Unlike before, however, Flynn did not fight on his birthday, or on Yuri's. For their twenty-first, he spent the entire time with his beloved. Behind closed doors he held Yuri close, ran his hands over him lovingly as he kissed him with every ounce of devotion he had in his immortal soul. Having Yuri respond to it so sweetly, to share intimate vows and exchanges, eased Flynn's heart. To him, their souls and hearts were already entwined; to him, already they were wed.

Beautiful, wonderful Yuri. Good men deserve better…

It felt like Fate finally descended, months after his twenty-first. She came and teased Flynn's heart, his mind, then shoved it aside to seize the soul of Ba'ul. She gripped so painfully, so absolutely, both mortal and god were put to their knees in their hearts. He had decided already, hadn't he?

Before Flynn marched out with the majority of the armor, the Don had asked for his counsel late at night. Flynn met the leader within his private chamber, already dressed for war, though he did not march until dawn. Don Whitehorse greeted him cheerfully, clapping a large hand on his shoulder as he normally did. Referred to him as 'son' like he did his actual children. After all, he knew Flynn would soon be a son by marriage. Everyone knew by this point.

"Zaphias' barrier weakens every siege," Whitehorse began once they sat. "However, as vexing as Alexei has been, that doesn't mean we need to slaughter people. I want to go over plans with you to take Zaphias as quickly and with as little blood as possible."

Flynn looked over the map the Don had pulled out. "You don't want to spill innocent blood." He replied in a neutral tone.

Whitehorse nodded. "Our enemy isn't Zaphias. It's Alexei. He started this war, so he alone should pay for it."

Yet for twenty-one years, it was you who've been paying for it. Flynn thought bitterly, continuing to stare at the map.

"Sire…" Flynn began, making Whitehorse stop with his plan of attack. "If you cannot spare good men and women… what do you do?"

The Don leaned back, looking Flynn over thoughtfully. "I've heard of your doubts." He started slowly. "Yuri had been distressed that time you were suddenly an animal on the field, but once it seemed you calmed, he explained it to me. Flynn, those soldiers are doing what they believe is right and we can't convince them otherwise. They fight for the country they love and are willing to die for it. We can't spare them, because who knows what they might do… but we can give them the peace of mind that they did die for their country. Maybe it isn't right, but we can end their crusade and justify their reason for fighting. And that will give them peace."

Flynn looked up at him, eyes slightly wide, and Whitehorse went on, "Everyone questions what they're fighting, why, and if they should keep doing it. Maybe not all the time, but eventually they do. I'm not at all surprised you finally have… you've been fighting a long time, like any of us. But this is something that's higher than who is from Dahngrest or who's from Zaphias… we're all soldiers. And soldiers who have justification, who believe their reasons validated, can die with peace on the field. Maybe they think we're monsters, maybe they think their death bought their beloved country time… but it helps. That's why I am glad you are a commander, Flynn; save for that one instance, you always were respectful of the lives you took. You gave them their validation, and they died with inner peace." Whitehorse stroked his heart, looking Flynn in the eye. "And that's what you do with good men and women you can't spare, Flynn. You give them the mercy of knowing they died for a good reason—their country."

Flynn looked back to the map, the section labeled as Zaphias. "And so we give that mercy to the Zaphian soldiers… better they die believing that, then realizing they had been led astray by Alexei. Or some form of torturous existence."

"I want to say Alexei wouldn't torture any of his own people, but in a sense I guess he is with this war. So yes, son. Does that ease your mind?"

Flynn once more looked at the Don, and he smiled to him. "Thank you, sire," He said quietly, "For everything. "

Whitehorse smiled back to him, glad to have been able to do something for one of his soldiers.

That thought, that feeling and smile, was what Flynn wanted to preserve when he chose that instant to strike.

With his divine-given power, Flynn drew his sword. Before Whitehorse could react, the magic-enchanted edge sliced through his neck and his head rolled. For several seconds, that peaceful, fatherly smile remained.

And now Flynn had crossed the point of no return.

He ran out of that room, and just as the guards outside turned to see what the problem was, he gave them the same quick death. All of them, good men… deserving a merciful, quick death that he knew Alexei and Phaeroh would deny them. He was the only one to have that humanly mercy.

Flynn ran all the way back to the wing his parents were resting, and by then the entire palace was clambering in alarm. Bodies were found. Bodies were made. By the time he reached them, his parents were awake and armed.

Judith was first. When Flynn burst through the doors, sword bloodied and tears streaking down his face, she misunderstood. Judith lowered her spear, reaching a hand out to her son, motherly concern all over her face.

Flynn loved his mother then more than ever. And he knew she'd also be a victim of Phaeroh if he failed this.

But he couldn't bear to disfigure her like he did the other victims. With a quiet sob Flynn ran at her, and Judith barely had time to yell in surprise, let alone parry the sword aimed at her heart. It burst through her back, her blood spilled, and she put one arm around him to hang on.

Flynn gave her the mercy of dying on her feet. Told her, before she passed, that she was the most incredible mother any person could have had, and that he was sorry he was not truly her child. But despite that, he loved her.

Judith's corpse hadn't even hit the ground before an arrow shot through the air, finding that perfect slit between plate and chain to bury into Flynn's shoulder. Flynn was knocked back a step, and when he followed the path of the arrow, Raven stood perched on the railing leading upstairs, his eyes already hard and devoid of any emotional attachment.

Flynn knew he had to face his mortal father as an enemy. The knowledge hurt. But good men had to be given validation.

Raven had the advantage of range, and if he were a normal human, Flynn would have been killed by the third shot. But Fate was against the nation of Dahngrest, bribed by Phaeroh's promise of blood, and Raven's blastia heart became his impairment. He wasn't as quick as Flynn, but even still, he put his all into this fight. His son had turned traitor, his wife was dead… this battle was all Raven had left.

"Tell me why." Raven growled through clench teeth as his folded bow parried Flynn's sword.

The sword bounced off and Flynn spun it before going into a horizontal swing, of which Raven backstepped from. The edge sliced through the older man's clothes, cut through the chainmail he had underneath and scratched the blastia jewel.

"I am Ba'ul, the son of the Zaphian god Phaeroh," Flynn replied coldly. "Your son no longer exists, and now he is mine."

It was, contextually, a lie.

But it was enough to give Raven that validation, to no longer hold back. But even still, in the end, Flynn broke through the veteran's defense and buried his sword into Raven's blastia heart, mixing Judith's blood with his. The very same spot he stabbed his mother.

Yet even as Raven tensed in pain, Flynn embraced him, holding still as he waited for death to claim this one too. "Your son loved you," he whispered. "It led to his weakness, so that I could take him."

"Rot in hell, Zaphian," Raven muttered, but when Flynn looked, he saw relief before death. Raven died knowing his own child's true feelings for him… that this wasn't him. There was a measure of peace in that.

The castle was ravaged within a few hours. Flynn had the mercy to put to death people he knew Alexei would go for to torture, to taunt—Prince Henry, Prince Karol, the other commanders like Niren, other nobles that were just visiting. Anyone with the political power to potentially challenge Alexei, Flynn hunted down and put to the sword. Soon the palace was empty.

No. Flynn lied. There was one room left.

Betraying the destiny the God had given him,
This man saved the Prince.

As much as he wanted to go to that room, to finish what he started, the bit of Ba'ul he let out was drowned once more by the feelings of his mortal self. He couldn't do it, even as he tried to force himself. Good men deserved mercy… and if he didn't… if he didn't!

But he didn't have to go to that room. The occupant came to him.

Yuri flew at him with sword in hand, screaming in rage. Flynn raised his sword to block it, and a shockwave of power ran through it. A normal man would have buckled. If Dahngrest had a god, then surely Yuri was its son, sent to oppose Ba'ul.

Whether or not it was true, it didn't matter. Yuri came at him with every inch of rage and despair, their swords singing a cacophony of betrayal and confusion through the halls. But only frightened servants and corpses heard it, outside of themselves.

"Why?!" Yuri screamed as his sword slammed into Flynn's, over and over. "Everyone… you killed everyone! Tell me why!"

Were those tears glittering in Yuri's eyes? It made Flynn's heart crack. "I had to." He whispered as they locked their swords. "It was mercy."

"Mercy from what?!" Yuri shoved Flynn off his sword, and before the god-child could ready himself, the tip of Yuri's sword plunged into his shoulder, digging the arrowhead still there further in. "You bastard! All this time… all this time!"

Flynn stumbled back from the hit, and then sidestepped the next swing. "From Phaeroh!" he yelled back, emotion choking his voice. "I'm not Flynn anymore, Yuri! I… I never was! All this time… I was Ba'ul, the son of the god Phaeroh… and this was my destiny!"

"Bullshit!" Yuri brought his sword down from overhead, an easy to dodge swing, but the tears in his eyes froze Flynn so his sword embedded deeply into the top of Flynn's shoulder just before his pauldron began. "You bastard… they trusted you… they loved you…"

Flynn knew that well. He saw it, every day, and it was going to haunt him for his immortal life. Even if he shed this skin, Ba'ul would remember, and those feelings would be in him forever.

"I love them." Flynn muttered, even as Yuri jerked his sword free. But Flynn couldn't feel it. He hurt far too much elsewhere to feel it. "I love them… and you. As Flynn, I love you all, this country… but Flynn can't protect them. Can't protect the country, or you." He bowed his head for a moment, letting the emotions wrack him. He hoped Yuri would end it swiftly.

But Yuri never struck.

"You're both useless." Yuri spat, making Flynn look up. Despite the words, he saw it in Yuri's eyes. He was the closest person to Yuri, that he could see the true feeling there in those dark depths, hear it under the mask he put over his voice. "Flynn and Ba'ul. I… both of you. I hate you both."

It was a declaration Flynn never wanted to hear. It ripped through his being, and even Ba'ul… even Ba'ul, who loved Yuri too, could feel himself break.

Yet even if Yuri struck him, Flynn knew he wouldn't die. Not yet. Phaeroh was working his magic, waiting for him to take Yuri down himself. Flynn knew he had to, because if he didn't then a fate worse than this awaited his beloved.

But Flynn couldn't do it. Looking into those angry, hurt eyes and seeing that raw emotion… Flynn couldn't and he wouldn't let Ba'ul do it.

"Run." Flynn whispered. "Run, Yuri. And don't look back."

"Like hell I'm running away!"

"If you die here, Dahngrest dies… run. I can only do so much to defy my fate, but you… you can do so much more."

Now run, run away my precious you…
Run, run away from this bloodstained me.

He expected Yuri to defy him, to continue the fight. But Yuri hesitated, because Flynn was right—he had killed Don Whitehorse, all of his other siblings. Yuri was the only of the bloodline left. And so long as one lived, then one day…

"You're mine." Yuri whispered fiercely. "In the end, it'll be me that kills you. You're mine, do you understand me?"

Flynn bowed his head, dropping to his knees for a moment. "I've always been yours." He whispered. "In life, in death…"

Flynn didn't look up when he heard Yuri's footsteps run him away from the god-child, leaving him alone soon enough in a hall of death, blood and hopelessness.

Phaeroh might not have been pleased with that outcome, but in the end he seemed to not care. The signal was given, the divine promise fulfilled as Alexei's armies came the next night as Dahngrest fell to chaos the next morning when it was revealed no one survived. Zaphias crushed what was left of the forces of Dahngrest, and by dawn it had become annexed into the Empire.

Alexei found Flynn still in the palace just waiting in the throne room, sitting in the spot the Don once sat. The Emperor approached him, and to Flynn's disgust, he sank to one knee and thanked him. From then on, it was known by all, Zaphian and Dahngrest survivor alike, that Flynn was the son of Phaeroh. He was Ba'ul, the Promised Savior.

Dahngrest resented him, rightfully so. Even still, the Zaphian soldiers who invaded held a parade in Flynn's honor, escorting him through the streets as if he were the Emperor himself. In a matter of days Flynn's feet left Dahngrest soil and when he came to the glittering, unmarred city of Zaphias he was a hero there as well. The Promised Savior, the one Phaeroh said would free the world of the tyranny that was the Don and his nation of Dahngrest.

Phaeroh was right, Flynn thought as he watched every single Zaphian revere him for his dark deeds. There are no innocents in war.

Flynn couldn't bear to turn around and look toward his homeland one more time. It would be for the best… wouldn't it?

I hate him.

Yuri slinked further along the dark halls, eyes narrowing as he heard the clanking armored footsteps of Zaphian search parties. They had reclaimed Zaude as well, of course, and although he was sure Alexei knew a Dahngrest royal yet lived he had failed at every turn at finding Yuri. The idiot didn't know his own temple, but Yuri… he knew it inside and out. He and Flynn explored it several times over.

Now, instead of a place of peace and pleasant memories, it has become Yuri's tomb. He didn't have that many rations, and he knew eventually he'd get caught. He could only last so long here.

But as hopeless as it was, Yuri was determined. Conviction filled the fibers that hate did not, because he was going to kill the son of a bitch that took his family and home from him. Hate was too tame of an emotion.

Yet for all the hate bursting from his veins, underneath the roiling negativity was still a small light of love. And as fiercely as he held onto the hate, that love he also held close. It wasn't his Flynn that killed his family. His Flynn that he loved more than the world… no, that was a good man. Somewhere in there he knew Flynn still existed, but that bastard Phaeroh's son was in the way.

Ba'ul deserved to die, and Yuri was going to slit his throat if it was the last thing he did. Most likely, it would be.

We were going to tell the world. Yuri thought as he slipped higher up the tower of Zaude, heading for the top. A part of him knew that was the safest place for him. We were going to join in matrimony and show the world. We promised. We promised to bring prosperity to our home…

This wasn't the prosperity they promised. The war might be over… but Alexei killed so many in his descent. He didn't care about the lives he took. He didn't think Yuri's people were humans too, and although Yuri had stealthily killed some of the soldiers, there was only so much he could do. His father was dead. His brothers. His people beaten and now under the rule of so called Emperor Alexei.

This was mercy, somehow?

Maybe those who died in the coup had mercy. But people like the citizens, like Yuri, who were spared death now had to suffer for what was left of their lives. Ba'ul had damned them all despite his so called mercy.

Days passed and Yuri prowled the halls of Zaude. The worshippers of Phaeroh only used the lower levels, the ones Yuri never went to. Anyone who was stupid to come to the higher levels, however, he killed. Whatever supplies they had he took, and that sustained him for a time. He could hear the rumors sometimes—that Phaeroh had declared the upper halls sacred and none should enter. It was off the fools and stupid that Yuri survived, for they tried to disprove these rumors.

Ironic, the god that led to their so-called salvation, they were so quick to blame for this.

He wasn't sure how long he was going to stay here. Maybe forever. But a part of Yuri knew if he waited long enough… his prey would come to him. It was harsh, cruel, but he knew that whatever bit of Flynn was left would seek him out. Even now Yuri could feel that tug, that want to go find his lover. He knew Flynn would feel the same. And he knew Flynn would willingly give him the bastard that stole his everything. He would use Flynn's own emotions against his true self.

So many suns and moons went by, Yuri wasn't sure of the time anymore. He could feel his grip with reality slipping, his sanity trickling away. It was like madness was taking over him, and all he could think of was his revenge. It was his reason for existence; this was his new destiny.

Mercy. Hah.

But salvation came. However many days, weeks, it might have been, Yuri heard it. Only one person would dare use the lift to come up to the very top of Zaude, and when it came to a stop his suspicion was confirmed. Clad in the bright, smug colors of Zaphias was none other than Flynn. No. Ba'ul.

There was a moment when things seemed to distort from reality. There was a haze as their eyes met, like the aer had gotten too thick all of a sudden. The only things in clarity in their vision was each other, and etched on the blond's face was surprise and a fleeting moment of happiness.

Yuri ran at him, and Flynn didn't pull out his sword. He actually opened his arms to him, and for one moment, Yuri let the madness go to pretend he could throw himself into those arms and wake up from this nightmare.

And then blade met flesh, and Flynn's eyes widened.

Yuri buried the dagger to the hilt into Flynn's heart, and the haze dissipated. Suddenly everything was sharp… too sharp, too perfect and clear in Flynn's eyes. He looked down to see the weapon embedded in his mortal flesh, feeling the pain of both the wound and that of his heart burst through his body and soul.

He had a mortal's body. He could die. Wasn't that was Phaeroh said?

"I did it." Yuri's whisper brought Flynn's eyes back up, and Yuri stared into those slowly dimming orbs. "For everyone. For Dahngrest. I killed the bastard."

One of Flynn's feet stepped back a little, trying to stay up as his blood dripped out of him, coursed through his body where it shouldn't. His heart was punctured… didn't he kill his own parents like this? The people he loved, he killed them just like this…

Yuri ripped the dagger out, causing Flynn to gasp, but before he could fall the prince wrapped his arms around him and held him up. Cradling him close, Yuri kissed his lips softly.

"Ba'ul took everything from us." Yuri murmured to him. "But I killed him. For everyone, for Dahngrest and for us. I killed him… but you, Flynn. You're my everything. And you're completely mine." He kissed him again. "In life. In death. Forever. You understand, Flynn?"

Flynn could hardly speak. He knew he had only one breath left, and he grasped weakly at Yuri's clothes. "In life," he gasped out. "In death… forever…"

Yuri held him tighter as Flynn's grasp on his tunic failed, and the body went limp against his. Steeled in his decision, believing his destiny fulfilled, Yuri slowly made his way with Flynn's body to the edge. There was no war beyond the mortal coil, Yuri believed.

They promised forever, in life and death. Keeping Flynn close, Yuri resolved to keep his promise. With that resolve, he stepped off the edge.

Hence deceased the final prince, along with the rebellious Child of God,
And the kingdom disappeared from the world.