There will be a time to confront this King of the Abyss.
As he treks down a hill, he pauses momentarily at the expanse of field ahead of him. Black roses spread across the landscape, somehow thriving despite the emptiness of the Abyss.
Finally, he spots Makt in the flesh. The God of Power paces beside a bridge much like the one he crossed in the Depths, except this one offers passage across a frozen river. Embedded into the ground is an unassuming great axe.
Makt elicits a strained bellow as his fists smack against an invisible barrier prohibiting him from crossing.
Calder rounds into the clearing between the field of roses and the bridge, and suddenly, the prophecy slams into the forefront of his mind:
Skalor’s salvation requires two.
Liberation bleeds at the hands of the god-born child.
To make equal upon a field of sunless roses, a willing sacrifice must be taken.
Only when Salt melts Ice will peace descend upon the realm.”
He and Aura have unintentionally confirmedthe prophecy up to this moment: ‘Liberation bleeds at the hands of the god-born child. To make equal upon a field of sunless roses.’
He must face his godly father to save Skalor.
As he approaches the bridge, he observes Makt’s back, heaving in time with his haggard breathing.
“Did you think I would abandon her?” Calder shouts as the God of Power whirls around with a grin.
“Well, well, well, color me surprised, my son.” With one hand, he withdraws the axe from the frozen ground, resting the shaft across his broad shoulders. “You are more daft than I could have imagined. Trapping yourself in the Abyss with your girl will not end well for you.”
Calder removes the god-killing axe from his back, smirking at the blade in his grasp. “And yet I am the one wielding your weapon, Makt. I believe it is you who is trapped.”
The God of Power’s wretched smile widens, revealing a row of jaggedly sharp teeth. “Your aim must be true. Otherwise, your soul will wander the Abyss, forever doomed to witness her defilement.”
Calder rushes the god before he has a chance to contemplate his strategy. He leaps as he approaches Makt and raises his axe above his head before striking it at his divine father.
Makt meets his blade with the shaft of his weapon. A chilling laugh grates under his skin as the god spins his hatchet in one hand.
The Iss Drengr lifts the double blade above his head, effortlessly blocking each of Makt’s wild and uncontrollable strikes.
Calder is unsurprised that Makt fights with the experience and might the Norn afford to the God of Power. Still, he fends off his attacks until one slips past, slicing a gash up his leg. The rushing adrenaline dulls the pain, fueling him with a primal energy.
“That is the best you have? The God of Power cannot kill a mortal!” Calder taunts as their axes collide.
Makt grits his teeth as he shoves Calder away. “Many of your siblings have taken me on with a similar bite, and all have fallen at my feet.”
As the god’s fury builds, he becomes less stable, pressing with unhinged ferocity.
Calder keeps the image of Aura at the forefront of his mind to soothe the chaos within his veins. Each barrage from Makt is blocked with a snarl until he manages to push back against him. He kicks Makt in the stomach, eliciting the sharp hiss of a man realizing he may lose.
“You are making this too easy,” Calder mocks. “I can't wait to slice your head from your shoulders.”
Makt bellows as he swings vigorously. Calder barely manages to block his strikes.
One mistake, and he will kill me.
Thorns scratch at his back as Makt forces him into the field of roses.
Thinking he has him pinned, Makt aims, but Calder ducks, tumbling toward the forest's edge.
Makt pursues him with a disturbed smile. He swings again, but Calder dives just in time, causing the force of his steel to cleave a tree in two.
