Now it was her place to carry it.
Inhaling a deep breath, Alora rose to her feet.
The Wild Hunt lingered in the sky. Riders quietly snarled on their beasts of smoke caught in an unmoving wind. Ash and embers suspended in the air as though the world itself had gone still.
They watched her, waiting.
Because she was their master now.
Light rolled off Alora in slow, tidal waves as she walked toward them. The earth trembled beneath her feet, stone fracturing in hairline cracks that radiated outward as if the land bowed in instinctive recognition. Debris lifted into the air around her, pebbles and ash circling in a quiet orbit, drawn toward the gravity of her presence.
Two dark essences burned within her chest, flooding power into her veins.
She saw the Hunt for what it truly was.
The remnants of a will that no longer ruled.
Alora lifted her gaze.
“Your hunt has ended.”Her voice echoed in a layered resonance, carrying the divine authority of her command.“Return to the void that birthed you.”
The air split open behind the riders. A vast dark yawned wide, deep and endless, the Abyss answering the call of a sovereign. Shadow curled inward like smoke drawn to a flame, banners unraveling first, then armor, then bone.
Until the riders were pulled backward into the darkness that birthed them.
Light poured from her skin, softer now, steadier. The debris fell gently back to the earth. The ground settled beneath her feet. The shadows curled around herasthe wargs rubbed against her, licking at her palm, coming to heel at her feet.
One by one, the demons lowered themselves to the ground in acknowledgment. No one questioned who ruled them now.
“You have inherited Rune’s power,” Calla murmured quietly. “And Vorak’s when you defeated him. Who better to rule us than the daughter of a Titan?”
Alora glanced down at herself on a fallen shield. Strange and otherworldly white eyes looked back at her. And new dainty horns curled from her brow.
A pull tugged in her chest.
The Gate thrummed beneath the mountain like a drumbeat buried beneath the stone. But the rhythm faded as it fell dormant once again.
It was her Gate now, but her mate was dead.
But she was no longer limited by the laws of the Realms as the new gods were. Because she was both Primordial and Goddess. Light and dark. Titan-made and Shadow-forged.
Lifting her finger, Alora drew a line downward and crimson light spread as a new doorway opened into the Netherworld.
She turned to the demons. “It is time for the Court of Sin and Ruin to return home.”
They wasted no time.
The demons crossed over, faction by faction. Alora watched it all with the Harbingers by her side until all had passed through. Segrith went last, helping Lady Nexia limp along.
The blind seer’s head turned slightly and gave her a nod, before vanishing into the dark.
Taking a breath, Alora faced the Harbingers. Rune’s faithful generals.
Calla, clever and sharp. Hadeon, silent yet secretly kind. Deimos, torn and battered, tail flicking as always.
Both males bowed to her, then both went through. And then, as if satisfied, as if their purpose was fulfilled, the wargs faded.
Into mist.
