Fate paused for a moment, his long black fingernails tapping together lightly. It was the only noise in Meru, I noticed, even the clouds and rumble of thunder stilling to hear his words.
“That is what she is, is she not?” He turned his hood toward me, and I had the distinct feeling that his eyes were perusing me from head to toe. “She possesses Creation and Destruction, Pain and Pleasure. Death is wrought from all. Balance,” he said.
“You”—he pointed a finger at Torin—“are the God of Life. Fire, Water, Air, and Earth, the four corner points for all things to exist. Yet you cannot exist without Death, nor can Death exist without you.”
Torin frowned, his consternation mirroring my own.
“But that is not why we are here,” Fate continued before either of us could ask anything further.
“Whyarewe here?” I asked, tucking an errant, wavy strand of blood-matted hair behind my ear with a slight grimace.
“Welcome, my children, to the end of the world.” He bowed with a flourish.
Torin and I sent each other twin puzzled looks before I began to clap, the sound echoing loudly throughout the deadened landscape.
Fate straightened to his full height, his frame vibrating with exasperation. I quickly tucked my palms behind my back while Torin fought to stifle a laugh.
“Sorry,” I muttered, ears burning under Fate’s stare.
He grumbled something beneath his breath, too faint to hear.
“Meru is the end of the world—the home of the gods and a waypoint between here and the other realms. It’s dead, as you can see”—Fate’s tone was dry as a bone—“and, thus, is the end of the world. If you choose not to revive it, to keep the magic for yourself, then it will fade into nothingness, cease to exist completely and consume Elyria in a bid to delay its own destruction.”
I cleared my throat, mouth suddenly dry, at the implication.
“That . . . seems too easy,” Torin said slowly. “We simply give up our magic and reenergize Meru? That doesn’t seem like a difficultchoice to make.”
“Did I forget to mention that there’s a significant chance that you die? Your magic is attached to your soul, after all, and giving up not just one original power, butfourcould very well splinter your soul beyond recognition.”
My heart sank, dread coiling in my gut. I crossed my arms over my stomach in an effort to contain my rapidly rising anxiety.
“You knew all this, didn’t you?” I accused. Fate simply stood silent. “The lovers at the end of the world . . .” I muttered, piecing it together. “That’s us. Isn’t it?”
Fate inclined his head. “There have been many before you, and there will be many after you. But yes. You are them.”
“What happens if we choose to keep our powers? How long does Elyria have?” Fate bristled then, anger wafting from him in waves as the ground seemed to vibrate with his frustration.
“Days.”
Meru seemed to respond, the air thickening with Fate’s words, causing my breath to stick in my lungs and throat. A solid weight pressed against my chest, and a sense of general unease settled around my shoulders.
Fate cocked his head as if listening to something on the wind. “Perhaps less than that.”
I sighed as Torin rubbed his face in his hands.
“Then that’s not much of a choice, is it? We didn’t watch our friends die simply for the living to perish days later.” Torin peeked an eye at me over his shoulder.
I shrugged, stomach still in knots over our decision.
“Wonderful,” Fate purred, gesturing to the ground. “Simply place your hands against the earth and—” He waved his taloned hands about. “Meru will know what to do.”
Slowly, I knelt, a puff of dust expelling around where my knees touched.
I pushed my hands against the dry ground, digging my nails into the soil.
This is dumb, I thought as I closed my eyes, trying to push my magic outward.
Nothing happened.
