“There is no power beyond yours, no limit you could reach but the vow of your word.” Alora lifted her gaze to the stars but could not bring herself to look at the brightest sun. “We agreed. Spare the Realms from the wrath of Vorak, and in turn, Rune would be spared.” She stood and stepped forward, her shadows flaring behind her like wings. “That is the promise that belongs to me. I demand for him to be returned, unflawed.”
Stunned silence weighed heavy on the platform. Thunder rolled in the sky.
Hiram’s eyes widened with fury. “You dare?—”
At Gavriel’s glance, he fell quiet.
Jökull smirked and exchanged a look with Sunnëva. A faint smile curved her lips.
All waited for Elyon’s answer, but there came only silence.
Alora lowered her head, clenching her shaking fists. “Did you … ever care for him?”
The cosmos vibrated and that ancient voice replied.“A father cannot help but love his son. Even in all his wrongs. Nevertheless, a soul cannot be recalled once its purpose is fulfilled. Rumiel’s sacrifice was his destiny.”
The declaration shook the foundation of her own soul.
“Iam his destiny,” Alora said faintly, and her tears fell freely. “After all he endured, can you spare him no mercy?”
Gavriel’s face creased with sympathy, and she looked up at the bright light, the only one who could. “The gods exist because it is their fate. Each is given a place and a purpose.” The Goddessof the Heavens held her gaze with a gentle smile. “None is complete on their own.”
Alora stilled, catching something in her words. “Even I, who was born from a flower?”
“Yes. Even you.”
She straightened, at last looking into that exalted light. “Balance is the law of the universe, and no force can be removed without one to replace it. When I devoured Vorak’s power, I became the new Primordial to take his place. Therefore, I am the sovereign of the Netherworld. Thus, I am owed a mate. And should further purpose be required, the Covenant demandstwosouls to bind it.”
Elyon paused and Gavriel’s smile widened.
That bright enduring presence softened, warming the stones beneath her feet.
“Indeed.”
Above them, from the veil of the cosmos fell a star.
A star so bright it made Alora’s breath catch. It fell into the River of Souls, and she leaped off the platform, following it. She watched in wonder, following the bright little light.
It swept through the current but instead of entering the Mortal Realm, the speck of light veered off the path as Netherworld Gate pulsated red, the portal reopening.
And Alora followed the light home.
The moment she stepped through the Netherworld Gate, the world went silent.
The air was thick and heavy, tasting of iron and smoke. Ash fell like snow from the blackened sky, and above her hung a moon as bright as blood. It bathed the barren terrain in its crimson light, casting shadows too sharp to be natural.
She stood upon black sand.
It spread far across an endless, barren land.
Ahead, jagged peaks rose like teeth, clawing toward a crimson sky. Rivers of lava cut through the land like bleeding veins. Souls cried in the distance, some echoing with grief, others madness. Here, darkness reigned.
This washiskingdom.
And hers.
The shadows moved with her, cloaking her body like a living veil. The spider lilies bloomed in her wake, even here, even now. The red moon glowed in the sky, lighting the way.
Alora had lost sight of Rune’s soul, but she called to it with her voice. Her song was a wordless melody. Demons emerged from the rocks and flame as they woke. Twisted. Massive. Nightmarish.
