“You will never know if you could unless you try,” Garren queried. “What’s the worst that could happen? You can’t die. Anthes would just lock you back into the Dark World and you would simply escape again. No harm, no foul.”
Orrick gave Garren a sidelong look, his eyes narrowed into slits. “Fine, but we do it my way. I am the smartest of us, after all.” He began making his way down the long corridor and toward the entrance of the monastery.
Garren took one more look around the atrium, shaking his head at the crumpled heap of stone that had scattered its way across the room. “Where are all the monks?”
“I locked them in their rooms,” Orrick called from down the hallway.
“You what!? Why?” Garren yelled after him, jogging to catch up to the god.
Orrick turned, bringing both hands up with his fingers splayed and his palms facing toward Garren, shaking them in a showy fashion. “Chaos.”
Orrick had devised a plan that Garren thought was exceedingly far-fetched. He didn’t think it was going to work, but as Orrick had mentioned many times on their trek through the Phantom Wood, Garren knew nothing of the Gods.
And that was the only reason that he had conceded and put all his faith into Orrick. The god knew about Gods.
The plan depended on a few things and would go terribly wrong if it didn’t work, but the biggest part of it required Garren to disarm the almighty god of war of his battle-axe.
Orrick had explained that Anthes had channeled an extreme amount of his power into the weapon, and without it, Anthes would be considerably easier to overcome. But with his axe, he would be near unstoppable.
The axe was named Balthar, meaning god killer in the old language. It was aptly named for being the only weapon that had killed a god.
The High Council nearly confiscated the weapon from Anthes, but instead, the god of war was sworn to never use the axe against another god again. Doing so would result in his own death by the weapon.
With Anthes disarmed of his battle-axe, Orrick would attempt to trick him into reversing the curse in exchange for the weapon, and then take him to Morial, the Dark World, to rot for the rest of eternity.
Garren had agreed to the plan, but he couldn’t see any of it actually succeeding, and the worst part was he did not know if Orrick would choose to betray him instead, leaving both him and Oriana at the mercy of Anthes and Balthar.
Garren knew that Orrick would enjoy watching Oriana become the demon and watch her tear her way through Svakland. If that happened, Garren wasn't sure he would be able to stop her. She was the one demon he wouldn’t be able to kill, not only because she was an immortal goddess, but because he loved her.
Fuck the Gods. He was going to break her curse. His chest grew tight as the sky grew darker. The plan would work. It had to.
Garren knew exactly where Oriana would be.
Orrick and Garren pushed through the trees and out onto the cliffside, and Garren’s eyes widened as he took in the scene before him.
Oriana was halfway out to the Storm Sea, walking along a sandbar that jutted up from the sea and joined with the edge of the cliffs.
“Oriana!” Garren called out to her, but she didn’t turn.
He sprinted after her, the waves of the churning sea crashing over the sand and spraying him with water that was cold as ice. He gritted his teeth and charged on.
The masts of broken ships creaked and groaned as he passed them. “Oriana!” he called out once more.
This time, she turned. “Garren?” he saw her mouth his name, the ocean’s roar too loud to hear it over. And then she began running toward him. Tears glistened upon her cheeks and his chest ached at the sight of her pain. He wanted to take it away, needed to.
They crashed into each other, locking in a deep embrace. “Garren,” she sobbed. “What are you doing here?”
“Saving you,” he whispered against her ear. “I can’t lose you, Oriana. Not when I’ve just found you.”
“Garren.” She broke free of their embrace. “It’s too late. My fate is set. Y-you need to forget me.”
He was about to tell her that he could never forget her when she caught a glimpse of Orrick standing on the rocky cliffs behind them, looking like his usual, bored self. Her eyes frosted over instantly as she speared Orrick with her gaze.
“What is going on? Why is Orrick here?”
“We’ve come to help you. I’ve asked for his help to–”
“You did what?” She cut him off. “Are you daft? He does not want to help, Garren! He helps no one but himself.”
