This chapter starts during S2, Ep 7: The Memory Islands and covers the time period up to the Mother's arrival in S3, Ep 1.

Thanks to my wonderful beta OK_Masterpiece2565 for helping me make this chapter so much better!

***—***

Meltwater

Everything happened in the blink of an eye. Satan's fireball zoomed towards Vicky before Malbonte or anyone else could lift a finger to divert the attack, weakened as they all were by Hunger's enervating presence. Vicky screamed and crossed her arms in front of herself in an ineffectual defensive gesture. Malbonte had pictured this exact scenario after Plague had drained her of all of his powers, leaving her an empty vessel. He had feared that Vicky would be caught defenseless in an attack, with him unable to protect her.

Instead of incinerating Vicky, however, the fireball bounced to a stop right in front of her as though at an invisible net, then zoomed back the way it came, visiting the intended torment back on its perpetrator. Satan's amazed expression as he writhed in agony had been almost comical. He had evidently failed to learn his lesson when it came to underestimating Vicky. After all, she had been the one to send Satan to Nonexistence the first time.

Utter silence followed. Malbonte was too stunned to speak, and every single head pivoted to Vicky in shocked inquiry. Vicky seemed equally nonplussed. She whipped towards Hunger and asked, "What have you done to me?" The horseman simply grinned in triumph before leaving, ordering Plague's posse of failed abductors to follow him.

Malbonte could not bring himself to leave with the others. He stepped toward Vicky and scanned her aura. Had she, somehow, taken back some of his powers, unbeknownst to himself? That was absurd! He would have felt its loss immediately. Besides, she would have reeked of his aura. Malbonte suddenly remembered how he had been unable to sense Vicky's unique aura—an alluring blend of sandalwood and tuberose, with the slightest hint of pine trees (his own signature)—ever since Hunger had released her. He had briefly wondered about it during their meeting on the island on her way back to the Order's headquarters, but it had slipped to the back of his mind.

What had Hunger done to Vicky? Angry, confused, jealous thoughts jostled each other in Malbonte's mind. Did Hunger share some of his own power with her? That was impossible! Vicky was a vessel solely designed to carry his power; not anyone else's! He possessively scanned Vicky's body once again, as if somehow this time he would discover the source of her newly revealed powers. Vicky stared back at him, her look both questioning and bordering on humor, as though she could read his thoughts exactly and was amused at his confusion and discomfort at the mere possibility of an alien power that wasn't his filling her.

Eragon asked him about Ulyssa. Malbonte answered automatically. He almost felt sorry for the angel, who seemed to be desperately trying to hold onto the illusion of having complete control over the Order's affairs. Accepting that he wasn't going to get any answers here, Malbonte took off, giving Vicky one last intense look as he flew away.

Back at the Academy, not wanting to deal with Plague's inevitable tantrums, Malbonte isolated himself in his chambers and tried to make sense of everything. As he thought over all that had happened, he realized that what truly bothered him about the whole incident was Vicky's unexpected trust in Hunger. A wave of pure jealousy had washed over him when Vicky had unhesitatingly taken Hunger's hand and stepped into his vision at the Memory Island library.

Hunger's visions were a code Malbonte could not crack. The horseman created spaces that did not truly exist—like the white room where he had kept Vicky a prisoner, and from which Malbonte had been unable to free her. He remembered how Vicky had clung to him during his visit. She had been anxious and worried that Hunger might not let her go, as she was the only person with whom the horseman could have a meaningful conversation. Malbonte had been worried that conversation was not the only thing that Hunger wanted from Vicky, but she had reassured him on that regard.

And now, Vicky was unhesitatingly giving her hand to her former captor and letting him lead her to a place where Malbonte couldn't follow. When had she gone from being afraid of Hunger's intentions to trusting herself with him alone?

A thousand uncomfortable parallels sprang to Malbonte's mind. Vicky had been his own captive once and had later willingly flown to meet him on a rooftop in a vision. They had kissed there for the first time after the merging of his two halves. Was history repeating itself?

Vicky had never given him cause to doubt her fidelity in the years they had been together. But they were no longer "together" now, were they? And that was his own doing. He had made no definite commitment even after their recent island tryst, when he had finally given in to their mutual desires and they had made love. Vicky hadn't asked for one either, though the longing shone through her speaking eyes. Malbonte had had to muster every bit of willpower that night to leave her on that lonely island and fly back to the Academy. But he had still left. Malbonte thought bitterly that he could blame no one but himself if Vicky had finally grown tired of waiting for scraps of his affection and found comfort with someone else.

This wasn't the first time Vicky had left him feeling jealous and confused in recent months. She had equally shocked him when she had killed War. He had not even suspected Vicky's plan, which had made him feel almost betrayed. She had been so open and unguarded around him that he had taken it for granted that he knew everything she was up to, Secret Stone or no. But she had pulled off a coup right under his nose. He had severely underestimated her—Vicky was not as helpless as he had arrogantly assumed. When and how had she ensnared War? And more importantly, had she been caught in her own net? He remembered how her hand had trembled even as the tip of the sword pressed against War's heart; her tears as she plunged it in. War had not stopped her, and she had done it. Did she grieve over the brash warrior in private?

And now…Hunger. Of course all his romantic rivals would turn out to be the Horsemen of the Apocalypse! Not ordinary angels and demons, but otherworldly beings from a whole other plane of existence, and with powers as much above his as his own powers were greater than everyone else's. Not that Vicky was the kind of person to be tempted by the mere allure of power, or she would never have fallen for Bont.

Malbonte knew that he ought to be happy for Vicky if she found someone who would give her the warmth he could not. He had no right to feel resentful or possessive over her. But he did. He could not bear the thought of Vicky in a relationship with anyone but himself.

Vicky had evidently found some common ground with Hunger, enough that she trusted him to not harm her. Hunger had not only justified her trust, but had equipped her with an ability to defend herself, which was more than what he himself had accomplished. When Vicky had been Plague's prisoner, Malbonte had looked out for her to the best of his abilities. He had not been able to fully protect her from Plague's tortures and degradations, however. He had only been able to help Vicky heal faster in the aftermath by sharing a fraction of his power with her. Was he now resentful that someone else has actually succeeded in keeping Vicky safe where he had failed? Malbonte gave himself a mental slap. His non-existent adolescence was perhaps taking its revenge. Just because Hunger was helping Vicky didn't mean that she was interested in something more with the Horseman. Hadn't she been gentle and affectionate just a few days ago on the island? It was unlikely that her feelings had changed so drastically since then. This petty jealousy was blinding his judgment.

A rising excitement gradually replaced other emotions. Vicky had powers again! Did it matter that it wasn't his dark energy empowering her? Or even if Hunger had shared some of his power with her? All that mattered was the fact that Vicky's chance of surviving the apocalypse has shot up exponentially. Malbonte felt a sense of relief on reaching that conclusion. He wished he could help Vicky hone her newfound abilities, but that wasn't a feasible prospect. He had learned that Eragon was taking a special interest in Vicky and was training her personally. Eragon was a powerful immortal. Malbonte had to trust and hope that he would do a reasonably good job. In the meantime, he would try to get Hunger to talk.

***—***

Vicky's powers were killing her.

Malbonte watched helplessly as Vicky's eyes and nose bled profusely while she valiantly tried to shield a dozen Order members from the Horsemen's attacks. What truly worried Malbonte was that Hunger was looking concerned as well. Had that unflappable monolith not anticipated that this ability would drain Vicky's life-force?!

By now, Malbonte had realized that Hunger had unlocked an ability that Vicky naturally possessed. An ability that had been buried deep within her psyche, silent until now because she had not needed it. Vicky had acquired some of his own power not long after she had become an immortal and had used it since then. Deprived of it, she had been at the perfect flashpoint to unlock a hidden aptitude for self-defense and protection.

Hunger had more or less confirmed this guess without giving any additional explanation. Malbonte could tell that the Horseman was amused at his uneasy curiosity, all the while looking like a cat that had got the cream. While Malbonte was reasonably confident that Hunger wasn't toying with Vicky like Plague might do, the horseman's air of excited anticipation bothered him. Hunger seemed to be treating Vicky's like an experiment, and Malbonte wasn't sure if he knew what kind of pressure an immortal could tolerate before breaking.

Malbonte watched Vicky closely, trying to understand how her powers worked, and planning ways he could step in if the situation worsened. Vicky was overextending herself as usual, without any heed to her own safety. Malbonte took a couple of steps closer to her field of vision just to lend her some moral support, to show her that he was still watching over her, as if that could be of any actual use. To his surprise, Vicky had noticed his gesture and straightened her posture in response. Thankfully, Rivelius's dome of protection snapped into place not long afterwards. Malbonte watched with relief as Vicky's friends Sammy and Adi carried her inside the house to recuperate.

Saving Rivelius had been one of those serendipitous occurrences that sometimes paid unexpected dividends in life. Starting with the addictive substance Rivelius had provided him, allowing Malbonte to exert a modicum of control over Plague, to being an occasional source of information about the Order's activities, the absent-minded scholar had become an invaluable tool in Malbonte's arsenal. But the crowning glory was the defensive dome. Malbonte had known of the Dome's construction and the principle behind its design. It was built to resonate in tune to the frequency of the Horsemen powers, rendering them incapable of breaching its shields. The ace up his sleeve had been that Malbonte's magical aura resonated to a frequency that was diametrically opposite the Horsemen's. The dome could not restrict access to both the Horsemen and to himself.

This fact allowed Malbonte to negotiate with the Horseman for the capture of the Order members without bloodshed, if possible. The Order could not hold out forever. Malbonte knew that any delay at this stage would only instigate the Horseman into even more extreme acts of violence in order to force the Order's cooperation. None within the Order possessed the coldblooded vindictiveness needed to let the whole world burn just to protect a small band of allies. Not even Eragon. Malbonte had never wanted endless blood and death, especially not when it involved a bunch of Vicky's nearest and dearest all gathered in one place like lambs to a slaughter.

While Plague raged at his offer, Death was surprisingly agreeable to the compromise. Death's primary goal was to release the Mother as expeditiously as possible. Plague wanted to torture everyone and prolong their suffering. But Death had the final say, as in everything. Hunger, of course, had not cared to opine either way, but Malbonte had an instinctual feeling that Hunger did not want Vicky to perish either. Perhaps because she was the only being in existence able to sustain an actual conversation with Hunger without becoming comatose. Even the Horsemen got lonely. Another fit of possessiveness washed over Malbonte and he tamped it down resolutely. This was not the time for petty emotions.

And so it was agreed that Malbonte would enter the dome. He would put an end to the Order's valiant but misguided attempts to resist the Horsemen. But first, he would talk to Vicky and tell her that he loved her.

Malbonte had thought long and hard about this conversation, debating at the wisdom of making such a confession at such a time. But if not now, when? After forcing her to open the final seal? She would laugh in his face, if not slap him outright. Or should he wait until Vicky had found someone else? His jealousy over Hunger had lit a fire under him. He would put a stop to his wishy-washy behavior and affirm his commitment to her.

He didn't want Vicky to think that he was helping the Horsemen release the Mother because he did not care enough about her. That was far from the truth. He loved her. He also trusted in her strength, endurance, and resilience. He believed that these qualities would be more than enough to sustain her through the ordeal and beyond. Malbonte could only hope that Vicky would remember his words and understand his motives after everything ended.

He did have to harden his heart against confessing all his plans to Vicky—to lay everything down at her feet and hope that she wouldn't stop him. But he could not take that chance. Vicky was the only person who could sway him from his path. She had done it once before, during his war against Shepha. Vicky still did not understand the magnitude of what she had accomplished back then. She had managed to pull him down from an uncontrolled destructive spree fueled by the darkness within him. Unchecked, it would have inevitably led to his own death, if not to a total collapse of Shepha's realm and beyond. She had convinced him to compromise with the Being who had split him in two and made his life an misery for millennia.

Wasn't that why he had wanted her as his ally in the last war? He had instinctively known that she was not just a vessel to carry his powers, but would be an active player in determining how the conflict would end. She had helped him realize that there was more to life than revenge and self-destruction. Malbonte had been prepared to die at the creator's hand if he could not get his revenge. Vicky had shown him a better way and given him hope for the future.

Now, however, there would be no compromise. He could not afford it. Because if he did not stick to his plans this time around, there would be no future for him. A future which Malbonte hoped might still include a life together with Vicky if she could bring herself to forgive him.

***—***

'No!' Malbonte shouted into Vicky's mind in instant response to her thoughts of heroic suicide. Her attention immediately shifted to him; her surprise at him reading her thoughts clear as a bell, though she didn't seem displeased. He had been tracking her thoughts from the minute she had appeared on the surface of the desolate island, led by Fencio. This was it. The climactic moment for which Malbonte had been waiting for, and all the chess pieces were assembled. Even at this stage, the Order was not ready to give in and were fighting with all their might. Even Death had been impressed.

Malbonte couldn't help but see the beauty in the Order's desperate last stand. Eragon's powers, though no match for Death's, were still considerable. The angel's eyes glowed bright and his aura surged powerfully as he and his raven danced in sync as they flitted about the skies. There was no love lost between Eragon and himself, but Malbonte acknowledged the angel's consummate combat skills. Plague's attacks had very little nuance, but they were sharp and skillful. Hunger stood apart from everyone else, not actively partaking in the fight, but his mere presence was enough. He was a constant drain to friend and foe alike whenever Vicky's concentration wavered from him. Without Vicky's defensive shields encasing Hunger, the battle would have been over in minutes. Malbonte himself only expended enough energy to incapacitate Order-members without causing any real damage. The last time he had battled the Order he had not shown such restraint. Back then, he had been fueled by the bloodlust induced by War. Now, he was determined to avoid hurting the people Vicky cared about.

It pained Malbonte to see Vicky expending a tremendous amount of energy in protecting the Order from the Horsemen. He was ready to step in if she pushed herself close to the point of no return. Thankfully, Death had stopped directing his attacks at Vicky, also noting her flagging energy. They needed Vicky and Rebecca alive and with strength enough to open the final seal and release the Mother. Vicky too had understood the reason behind Death's restraint. That was when she had desperately thought about herself and Rebecca sacrificing themselves to stop the horsemen.

'Don't you dare!' Malbonte pushed that thought into Vicky's mind with all his might, even as he continued to ward off attacks. After everything, Malbonte wasn't going to lose Vicky to a reckless impulse for self-sacrifice. 'They will find other suitable half breeds. It will take time, but they will become less patient. It won't stop them.' He tried to impress upon her that any such sacrifice on her part would be an empty gesture in the long run. Thankfully, Vicky listened. He felt her attention shift once more into defense-mode and he relaxed marginally.

The Order wasn't holding up well by this point. Mammon was fully incapacitated, as were a dozen other nameless order soldiers. Lucifer had temporarily moved Hunger off the board, which had briefly helped. Vicky had recovered some of her strength in his absence, but the battle was wearing on all of them. Out of the corner of his eye, Malbonte noticed Plague racing toward a wounded Rebecca, who was slowly edging to the outer rim of the island, and he got into high alert once again. Just as he had anticipated, Vicky's attention also shifted to her mother. Taking a leaf out of Lucifer's playbook, Vicky decided to use Kira to divert Plague's attention. She started attempting to enlighten Kira on Plague's cruel and selfish nature. The child looked terrified. Whether that lesson had sunk into Kira's mind would remain unanswered, but it certainly worked as intended in its original objective. Plague abandoned Rebecca and rushed towards Vicky, arms raised and swinging with ferocity. Malbonte intercepted the blow just in time and said the two things he knew would stop Plague's tantrum, "We still need her and you're scaring the child."

To his relief, Plague stopped, though she looked at Vicky with such animalistic hatred that Malbonte knew his vigilance could not end until the psychotic horsewoman was dead. Plague's apparent affection for the child Kira was one of the more unexpected things to have emerged from all this. When Kira was brought to the Academy as one of the half-breeds with the potential to open a seal, Malbonte had stepped in to prevent Plague from making the child one of her chained slaves to toy with. He did not fully understand the impulse, but Kira had reminded him just a little of himself at around the same age, when he had been rendered an orphan, unapologetically split in two, and dumped into a black dungeon to be tortured and controlled by a being with the same nature as the horsemen. Plague's fear of and hatred for Death had made it easy to keep her restrained on that point. Over time, Malbonte had watched with unease as a bond developed between Plague and Kira almost reminiscent of the one between Shephamalum and himself. If Death's speculative looks were any indication, this was not going to end well for either Plague or Kira, especially now that the latter's utility to the Horsemen was over with unlocking the sixth seal.

Rebecca started pulling Vicky along with herself towards the edge. Her intentions were plain—she meant to lead herself and Vicky away from the main group and fly away, though how she expected to succeed Malbonte could not imagine. The little maneuver was caught by Death and Plague, and the deadly siblings moved towards the two Walker women with intent.

With no warning, Malbonte was abruptly plunged into a nightmarish scenario. He immediately recognized that he was in a vision and that this was not one of his own. It had Hunger's signature all over it. Malbonte watched helplessly as the vision overtook everyone's conscious mind; their bodies weakening and slumping to the ground as they succumbed to Hunger's draining presence. For Vicky had been overcome by the illusion as well and had dropped her defensive shields.

Malbonte saw an illusion of Death, superimposed on the still figure of the real one, waving a hand at Eragon and Winchesto, instantly killing them. A snap of Plague's fingers took care of Dino. Malbonte watched with fascinated horror as his own vision-self killed Mammon, Eliza, and Mimi. Vicky's head whipped towards him with such a shattered expression on her face that Malbonte never wished to see again.

'I won't forgive you… I won't be able to anymore.'

Malbonte shuddered. He felt the sharpness of Vicky's words pierce through his bones as though he had really killed her loved ones and was standing on a river of their blood. He hoped to never witness such an expression of shattered trust and horrified disgust on her visage. Tears poured down Vicky's face as she let Rebecca lead her to the edge of the island. She took one step back then another until she vanished over the ledge.

Nothing happened for a few minutes. Malbonte still could not move, trapped by the vision and enfeebled by Hunger. Then, Vicky's voice floated up thickly, as if through molasses, "This isn't real."

The illusion dissolved, revealing a completely different tableau. Vicky and Rebecca were knelt in the center of the stone circle, with the three Horsemen surrounding them. Malbonte felt proud of Vicky for breaking through the illusion. The remaining members of the order were still alive, though robbed of vitality and lying prone. Lucifer was slumped unconscious in one corner like a sack of potatoes. Malbonte was fleetingly surprised that Hunger had bothered to bring him back.

"Impressive!" Hunger exclaimed. "You figured out it was an illusion."

Malbonte's lips twisted as he recognized the same note of pride in Hunger's voice at his student's diligence.

Death uttered more dire threats at Vicky. He seemed really offended that a former mortal was exhibiting such resistance to his powers. Most immortals were obsessed with the hierarchy of power, and the Horsemen were no exception. Malbonte himself disdained such classifications; he despised them all equally.

Death took the Book of Life from Plague and brought it to Rebecca and Vicky. The women silently complied, not wanting to make Hunger's vision a reality. As they touched the book, Malbonte felt the lightning surge through Vicky's body as though it was him opening the seal to release Death. He relived every single tortuous moment of that agony, guilt stabbing at his heart for letting Vicky undergo the same. Vicky's wings burned away, and Malbonte watched as she instantly regrew a more powerful set of wings. Then she slumped as all strength leached out of her body, and the final seal broke.

The seven half-breeds with the seven horns now blew them. Malbonte's chest tightened with a surge of inexplicable terror, but his focus was solely on Vicky. He felt the frantic beating of her heart and rapid breaths as panic started to overtake them all. 'Look at me!' he spoke into her mind. She found his gaze and locked on. 'I understand that you are scared, but you can handle it,' he affirmed. 'Be strong; I won't leave you. I promise.' Vicky bowed her head, but he felt her shoulders straighten fractionally and her heartbeat slow down. In her reviving strength, Malbonte found his own.

As the horns fell silent, an unnatural silence descended. A red sun came out from behind the clouds, tainting the sky like a bleeding wound. The ground trembled and fractured, the crack widening all the way to the horizon. Space itself began to tear in two like a canvas. An alien energy burst into the world like a tsunami leveling entire civilizations. Through the torn fabric of space, slowly as from a mother's womb, the Universe emerged: that which had given birth to all and would also be the architect of their demise. The immortals screamed in terror.

A gargantuan though graceful figure of a naked woman descended on the island. Death took a few steps toward the rift and shouted, spreading his arms to the sides, "Welcome, Mother!" The other horsemen chorused, "Welcome, Mother!" They stood motionless, their heads bowed in respect. The reverence of her children settled over Malbonte like a suffocating blanket. The screams and cries abruptly stopped. Nobody moved.

Death handed the Mother a robe to cover herself. Her gaze slowly glided over the Horsemen, over those who had blown the horns, and finally came to rest on Rebecca and Vicky. Malbonte's arm suddenly burned with excruciating pain. He screamed, for once unable to control himself, as did Vicky, Rebecca, Astaroth, and Kira. A golden mark glistened on all their forearms.

"What did she do to us?" asked Astaroth, who was unexpectedly standing next to him.

"She branded us and created a bond between us," Malbonte whispered back, his breath shallow. He assumed that the seal-breakers who were missing from the island—Titu, Christopher, and the infant Vicky had saved—had likely been branded as well. Malbonte's mind immediately started running a thousand calculations on what this might mean and how he could turn it to his advantage.

The Mother of Life was silent, her eyes slowly scanning her surroundings, her movements smooth and almost sluggish. But in all of it, there was striking power beyond anything Malbonte had witnessed. She stepped forward. As she walked, everything began to bloom and burst with colors as at the height of summer on one side, while on the other—everything burned and crumbled. Symbolic, perhaps, of the workings of the Universe. Malbonte saw a variety of expressions flit through the watching immortals' faces—genuine horror, admiration, and pure unadulterated fear. He himself felt the immensity of her power, her superlative strength, and her utter alienness as it registered within his core consciousness. For a moment, all his hopes faltered. How could he ever hope to understand a being of such incalculable otherness, let alone find a chink in her armor and defeat her? He then thought of Vicky, and gathered up his willpower with all the resolution he could muster and gazed at the Mother again.

"Children!" That one word was filled with indomitable power. It bombarded them from every direction and echoed in their heads, penetrating their very being. "One of you is dead," she stated, gazing at the remaining horsemen.

"War has fallen," said Death.

"Then he was weak," she said dismissively. The Mother's unexpectedly blasé attitude towards War's death surprised Malbonte, but he could not help but be relieved on Vicky's behalf, as he had feared a reprisal.

Plague stepped forward, fell to her knees, and lowered her head, exposing the back of her neck to the goddess. This subservient attitude might have puzzled Malbonte if he had not witnessed her hatred and fear of Death. Plague and Death seemed to be in some sort of unspoken competition for the Mother's approval, which had surprised Malbonte. He would have thought Death above petty sibling rivalry.

The Mother of Life placed her hand on Plague protectively, but when she spoke, her words were at odds with that gesture. "You killed my son," she stated, coldly.

Plague trembled and clenched her fingers into a fist. The horsewoman tried to plead her case by saying that Shepha had become weak and unworthy of life. Malbonte had once agreed with her on that score.

"This world needed two gods. Now it is doomed," declared the Mother. "It was not up to you to decide whether my son should live or die. You have disappointed me." That last pronouncement was Plague's death knell.

Plague trembled even more violently in rage and fear. She closed her eyes and bowed her head very low as though she was praying to a merciful god. Kira took off and ran to the horsewoman, but before she could make it to Plague, Death grabbed her and pulled her back. Plague and Kira reached out to each other, but in vain.

"Don't touch her!" Plague was no longer hiding her emotions. Her voice broke and her eyes were glazed with fear, along with something else. With a shock, Malbonte recognized the emotion as hope—bright, full of life, and so, so, incongruent on the wretched horsewoman's features. Death looked down at Plague with contempt, his lips curled in disgust, his face arrogant and cruel. He pushed Kira away, and the child rushed into the arms of the horsewoman. Plague gently and quickly smoothed the young girl's hair, comforting her.

"Let me do this," volunteered Death, ever eager to fulfill his stated role in existence. But the glee with which he made the offer to kill his own sister was a bit sickening to witness. Plague's plea for mercy fell on deaf ears.

The schadenfreude of Plague's comeuppance ought to have pleased every single being who had suffered by her hand. But Malbonte felt no sense of triumph or vindication. He had not expected that the Mother of Life's first act on arrival would be to decree the death of one of her own children. No wonder Shepha and Shephamalum had rebelled. They must have known on some level that the Mother would just as easily annihilate them as their creations.

Death unsheathed his sword. Plague pushed Kira away, but remained in place, raising her head proudly, though tears welled in her eyes. And with one fluid motion, Death beheaded Plague. Kira screamed at the top of her lungs as Plague's body dissipated in the soft breeze. Soon nothing remained of her except her sword. Interestingly, when Death attempted to lift Plague's sword to claim it, he was unable to do so. Malbonte felt no pity for the horsewoman, and thought Kira was better off without her erstwhile guardian. Unlike himself, Kira wouldn't grow up under the twisted influence of one of the Mother's direct offspring and become warped herself.

"I have lost so many children!" lamented the Mother, hypocritically. "Your world must be worth the sacrifice."

Malbonte did not think the mother knew what the word "sacrifice" meant. She, who was the ultimate creator of all sentient creatures, was apparently as devoid of love as her firstborn sons Shepha and Shephamalum had been. Malbonte could not fathom how any of them could have created beings both mortal and immortal capable of such emotions as love, mercy, self-sacrifice, or simple pity.

"The Universe gives and takes away. Prove that your existence has meaning," her powerful omnipresent voice poured out, filling the entirety of heaven and earth, echoing in everyone's minds. "Prove that you deserve to continue living!"

"How exactly should we do this?" came the unexpected voice of Eragon. He was courageous, Malbonte gave him that.

"There is no answer. Live and prosper," the Mother replied. "Judgment Day will come, and I will decide."

Noticing the immortals growing weaker from Hunger's influence, the Mother said, "From now on, my children will not touch you. Those who survived have proven that they are capable of fighting. But the battle is not over yet. Life is a precious gift, and only the worthy may receive it." Having made this enigmatic-sounding but ultimately unenlightening pronouncement, she rose into the air, causing another earthquake with her jump.

The immortals held on to the ground as best as they could as part of the island broke away. Death followed in the Mother's wake. But Hunger hesitated, looking thoughtfully at the destruction. Malbonte noticed the apologetic look he directed at Vicky before taking off into the sky and flying away. For once, Malbonte did not feel any jealousy. Instead, he could empathize with Hunger.

Coming to their senses after the Horsemen's departure, the members of the Order spread around the island to help the wounded. Malbonte stood in the midst of the chaos and watched as everyone rushed about. Vicky took a step toward him.

"Malbonte…" she called out.

Malbonte did not respond. He had several loose threads to tie up before he felt at liberty to rejoin Vicky and try to begin to set things right between them. And so, Malbonte took to the air and rushed away from Vicky, the Horseman, the Order and all the chaos the Mother had left behind, reflecting on his role in all this, and hoping that it would all be worth it in the end. With the Mother's arrival, one phase of his plan was complete. The next phase had just begun.

***—***