They say that, long ago in a time gone by, when people whispered her name on their lips, it was in prayer, not in fear. My shattering knee echoed through the room to accompany the screams as her hammer finished its arc. I think the screams were mine. I couldn’t be sure though. It was hard to imagine the people hearing her name in the streets and feeling… hope? That’s what she was once. Apparently. She heard the stories. How she fought for the lowest of the low; how she stood unwavering like a beacon against the cruel tyrants that held the throne. They say her smile was gentle and kind as she offered her life for yours. That smile was now lopsided with the scar marring her face, and stretched in so much bitterness it was impossible the see the possible kindness once there. But perhaps it was her eyes that were to blame. Their sharpness was cut by all they saw on her fight. “Now, darling, it’s far too early for you to leave me here.” Her calloused hand with the tip of her middle finger missing grabbed her hair as she pulled my hanging head up. “We have the world to save. You haven’t forgotten, have you?” I wondered if that’s the side of her the kings and queens saw as she toppled their empires. If she seemed as cruel to them as she seems to us now. If she ever inflicted as much pain back in the stories they tell of her. She sighed, her black - dark brown from up close as I noticed this close - softening slightly as she reached forward to wipe the tears and blood from my face. “I’m sorry. I know how painful it is to try and survive something like this.” She ran her bloodied fingers through hair hair, spreading red streaks through the ashen white. “I’ve spent months in Melarions royal dungeons. I wish no one ever had to feel even half of that pain.” There. Her eyes, ever so slightly glassy, looking at me bleed. I could almost imagine the kindness they speak of in her stories. “But we both know we’re out of time.” She keeps her eyes on the floor as she grabs the black dagger off of the table, turning it over in her hands. She brings the tip against the bottom of my eye applying ever so gentle pressure. “So I’ll do what I have to in order to save those who need it most. And you either help me willingly, or I take what I need from you.” Her eyes meet mine, devoid of all feeling, and I could swear they turn deeper black. “Please-“ “Shhh” her head twists to one side, her brows furrowed in apparent worry. “We don’t have time for this. We both know what needs to happen. All you have to do, is tell me where that child is. I know you think you must protect it. But is it worth letting the world wither under its soul?” They say she was kind once. That she let her own life nearly end countless of times just to save another. That she let the kings go free in favour of harming those she tried to protect. “I… don’t know - where he is.” I wonder if perhaps she did give her life at some point. If she died in that dungeon from which she came changed. If it was not her heartbeat but her soul that ceased to be for the world. “Oh, but you do” and the sound in her voice truly made me feel as if it hurt her to say. “And I’m sorry to say that you will tell me. One way or another. The world depends on it.” I know the screaming won’t help me. But it seems impossible not to as the blade digs through my eye.

There he was, running towards the the gate. He would save us as he always does. He just needed me to buy them time. He’ll come back. He always comes back. … … … Why wasn’t he coming back? He freed the prisoners. They won the day. Why wasn’t he coming back. Any second now. The bridge started to lift. Why is he not coming back? You’re running in the wrong direction. I wanted to scream after you. I got their attention. We’re ready to go. You’ll come back, right? You wouldn’t leave me here to die… You promised me that. The night you said you loved me. You promised you’ll always come back for me. They’re closing in. You won’t come back, will you? You always knew you’d have to make a sacrifice to save the ones needed. I just thought… I believed you when you said we don’t trade lives. I thought for sure that when you stood there so full of fire, staring into the eyes of a goddess, that you meant it. That you would find another way. You would save everyone. I could only see your back as you led them all to safety…You never looked back. The blade went easy through my back. Their swords were sharp. Their claws were worse. Their teeth worse than any pain you’d ever feel - that’s what you said when you first taught me about them. You lied. Even feeling their jaws close around my shoulder didn’t hurt as much as it did watching your back while I screamed your name. I was begging. Please don’t leave me. Please. They didn’t kill me immediately you know. As I lay there, with the world going dark, She was there with me. She never left me. She took my head and placed it in her lap. My blood stained her obsidian dress, her dragon scaled skin that glittered like the darkness between the stars. Unlike your love, her darkness was merciful. Shhh, she said. You’ve hurt enough. Your heart can lay down its burden. Let him go. I didn’t know know I’d still be able to feel the tear running down of what remained of my face. She wiped it away as gently as you once kissed me. Let him go. I did. You meant nothing to me since then. You meant everything. She fixed the cracks you left in my heart with the very void She was borne of. Die sweetly darling, she whispered. I did. Be reborn as greatly as stars die my brave hero, she offered. I did. And with my first breath my soul was filled with all the wonders hidden in the dark. If only you knew how much you offered me with my death sentence. If only you saw how much the darkness knows. If only all those who named you hero saw how much of your heart I could see now. How delightful the depth of its darkness is. I looked into her eyes, unafraid of the infinity she held within them, and we smiled. I saw now what a hero’s heart truly hides. How thin the disguise you wear is. I worshipped you once. Well here is my last prayer for you hero. It will be sweetest of defeats when your heart follows. We need not win this war. I know She is ready to return to our eternity. Every one of her children is. But if I can make you show the world how crooked your heart truly is before the sun sets upon our armies, then I will return to our darkness happier than you ever made me.

Not to be cruel to your crooked heart but Neither you Nor I, ever lived in a world where we Never loved each other. Nowhere in the great vast universe Nor in No time did we Not live solely to let our souls meet. Never, I know, you want to hear that Neither one of us can escape the Never ending curse of Not being alone. Nevertheless I say to you be Not bitter my darling that there is Nothing that can set you free from me. No, I shall Not blame you, but know that I will be Nobody if it means you can Not love me anymore but Never and in No time shall I pretend we were Not forever bound to love each other Not never.

“I warned you that you didn’t know what you were doing! We all warned you!” Archmage Leonel whirled on her with barely restrained fury. “But you always have to know better, don’t you? Play with powers you can barely comprehend.” Selene simply focused on her breathing as her eyes scanned the room full of bodies, refusing to let the devastation show on her face. Refused to give Leonel the satisfaction. Gods, there was hundreds of them. So many soldiers she healed to keep them fighting in a war they’d otherwise long have lost. “When will you learn that you’re not a God Selene. You can’t have any power you wish.” “I did what needed to be done.” Selene’s voice came out as barely more than a whisper. “They’d all be dead without me.” “They’re dead BECAUSE of you, Selene!Because you couldn’t keep that cursed power in your blood locked away like we all told you to.” Selene turned and barely opened her mouth to snap back a response when a soldier - a girl in broken armour and skin as grey as stone - stumbled over to them, dropping to her hands and knees. She managed to croak out half a word before she started coughing up enough blood to pool on the ground beneath her. That was her doing. Her magic feeding on the poor girl, taking back ten times more than it gave to heal her. Selene dropped to her knees - ignoring how the blood stained her robes which were surely worth more than the soldiers yearly earnings - letting her magic soothe the soldiers pain, knitting the body back together even as the remnants of her magic were trying to tear it apart. It was already too late to heal her. She’d die regardless. At the very least she can ease her pain before having to end it. There was a second in which the archmage stared at her which such intensity she feared he was trying to set her aflame with his eyes alone. But then he simply started to walk away before stopping at the door to the infirmary. “You have a day before the mage hunters are sent after you. Who knows, maybe you’ll finally have the opportunity to heal yourself.” And then there was only the sound of his footsteps accompanied with the coughs and cries of pain of all those she tried to save. All those she doomed to terrible deaths.

Selene knocked at the scratched up door of the little hovel. She didn’t wait long before Freya opened, the worried lines of her tired face easing into a relieved smile. 
“Oh thank the gods you’re here! The boy is getting worse he’s-“
“I cannot heal Tom any longer Freya.” The words would be too difficult to get out if Selene was looking into the mothers eyes. Instead, she kept them on the ground, the worn down shoes being an easier sight to handle than the desperate confusion that surely replaced Freya’s face. 
“What? But why? Please your healing has helped him unlike anything else! All the healers have given up on him. He has no one else he- he will surely die if you don’t help” 
Selene closed her eyes, trying to control the lump forming in her throat. 
“Freya I-“
“Please. I’m begging you” the baker dropped to her knees, holding onto Selene’s robes “Just one more time I know it will help. The gods would not have sent you to us if my son was not meant to be healed by you.” 
One more time. 
It’s too late for him anyway. Right? 
Selene nodded once, and that was enough for Freya to jump up, thanking her over and over as she led her to to boy bound to an old bedroll.
Selene was in a sort of haze then. She couldn’t even speak as she brought her hands to the boy of barely 8 being eaten by her magic. 
All Selene could do was send a prayer for the boy to the gods, and ask for forgiveness as she let her magic ease his pain for the moment. She hated how much relief shown on his face. She knew it would be the last time he felt that way. Because of her. She felt a tear roll down her face as she did her work. She would have to let Freya know the truth before she left for good.
Could she stand the hatred that would follow?

“You’ve been building up the courage to knock for the last fifteen minutes Julian, if you were going to leave you’d have already done so.” The black-clad sorceress finished off a signature at the bottom of a letter, looking over the parchment worth more than a peasant earns a year at the farmlands. “You stand there any longer and I’ll just read your mind for the message instead.” The mage opened the carved Blackwood door, his face bright red under his pale hair. “I’m sorry Grant Enchantress, I didn’t mean to disturb-“ “I haven’t got all day, Julian. Can we skip over the parts where you shit your robes and to the message?” The cold bored voice of the sorceress filled the room as she sealed the envelope and placed it in the beak of an astral raven which flew off to deliver the letter, after which she finally stopped to look at Julian. “Well get it out.” “Right, sorry.” The mage couldn’t maintain eye contact, staring at the expensive carpets as he spoke. “The Sorcerer of the Highest Order wishes to speak with you. Immediately.” The sorceress blinked. After a few seconds of silence, she stood up picking up a pendant off of the table and left the mage staring after her. • “Dahlia. You came early.” The greying man draped in deep royal blue kept his back to the sorceress as he stared up at the statue of the College’s founder. “I didn’t expect you to actually show up.” “I happened to be between projects when your pet mage showed up.” Dahlia let her heeled boots echo across the large marble room as she made her way across it. “But my time is precious so why am I here Tobias?” The Sorcerer’s eyes slid to the side as Dahlia stopped next to him instead of the respectful distance that was customary to his rank, as she stared up at the statue too. “The Grand Sorcerer-“ “I couldn’t care less about your titles Tobias. You told me you’d leave me alone until you found the origin of the enchantment last time we spoke.” The pendant grew warm in the pocket of her black fitted robes, as if it knew they were talking about it. It probably did. “Did you?” There was a pause in which the far older sorcerer took a deep breath, as he often did when he talked with Dahlia. “If you card about that title it could be yours, you know.” Dahlia rolled her eyes walking a few steps further to stand in front of the floor to ceiling window overlooking the night city lit up with thousand torches beyond the walls of the college. “You know I don’t care to clean up peoples messes as a job. What would I gain that I don’t already have besides even more people wanting to control what I do?” Dahlia hugged her arms as she talked. “I can feel your thoughts aren’t on the pendant why am I here Tobias?” “You know why you’re here.” His voice was sterner now. “Do you know how much effort it cost me to stop the nobles from demanding that the Empress burns you at the stake from the last ball? And you go ahead and threaten the Empress on her own throne?” “She has the enchantment in her vault Tobias you know it!” Dahlia whirled at him, annoyed at the sign of disapproval in his voice. “Was I to roll over and beg her for a hint of respect after everything I’ve done for her?” “Everything you’ve done? If she were to list everything you’ve done you’d have been burned a hundred times over Dahlia!” The usually composed sorcerer half shouted at her. “Most Mages die or spend the rest of their lives in the towers of our prisons for what you’ve done. You can’t use everyone to get your way.” “Can’t I?” She titled her head, letting her wild black curls fall across her shoulder. “Because I’ve been doing it for decades and I’m still here.” The Grand Sorcerer stopped shaking his head in a mix of disbelief and disappointment. “You could do so much, Dahlia. There’s so much potential in you. Blessed Adriana, I’ve never met anyone like you before.” Dahlia’s face showed nothing but cold resolution. “You should be grateful for that.” She turned away once again, starting at the window without truly seeing anything. “You know, I never believed that before. But I truly am.”

1st of Rainfell The Grand Enchanter sent for me today, informing me that my last trial not only placed me first - as expected - but that it caught the attention of the Duke of Tala’an. I didn’t bother arguing with him about taking on the job. He let my family take me out for far too many banquets for me to have any space for any arguing. That means I’m spending the rest of tonight preparing for a 2 week journey to his estate. I can’t believe I’ll be losing 2 week off of my chances to prepare for more trials, when I only have 3 more to go before I can finally earn my way out of the college and into the Magi Quarter. At least I’ll get to travel out of the city again. It’s been nearly 6 months since that happened last. Funnily enough, I don’t even know why I’m going yet. The Duke decided to keep the manners private, requesting to only talk of it in person. I’m not sure it’ll even be my area of expertise but knowing the nobles, it’s most likely some request in some struggles with his mistresses.

11th of Rainfell A week and half into the awful trudge of nothing but rain, and the first interesting thing that happened is the broken wheel of the carriage today. Of course, the rider the College hired for me was just incompetent enough to not have a replacement. Which meant that I had to get out into the hailing downpour to repair it. All while Justinian watched my every move like I’m about to run off and give up my entire life’s studies of trying to earn at least some degree of freedom in favour of becoming hunted by the Cathedral. Who ever said that the life of the College’s Sorcerer wasn’t utterly exhilarating. I’m only glad I bothered looking into the protective spell for my journal before leaving or these pages would have been soaked into nothing by now.

15th of Rainfell After I repaired the wheel nothing really happened besides even more downpour than I have seen in years. And that’s saying something living in the College of Averr. It did however mean that the carriage made slower progress than hoped so we should be arriving a day later than predicted. About time, seeing as I started hating the walls of this carriage by day 2. If the Duke doesn’t grant me at least a proper guest room I can’t guarantee I won’t purposely mess up his requests - my reputation be damned. I made the mistake of taking a servant room once in my rookie days. I think I’ve earned enough prestige to never have to deal with that again. Though I still can’t stop thinking about the secrecy of the request. The more time that passes the more unusual it seems when considering how much money he surely had to spend on hiring the College’s current best.

16th of Rainfell He’s insane! Utterly insane! The meeting couldn’t have gone worse if I begged the Blessed One herself for it to. I maintained as professional as I could of course but the damned fool wants me to resurrect his wife that the idiot killed in a fit of rage. The thought of him keeping the body somewhere the entire time... Now of course I dealt with necromancy here and there with the nobles, they’re always feeling entitled to even the dead. But usually they only ask for some minor stuff such as asking the passed matron for the locations of their heirlooms or such. I have no problem with necromancy. Magic is magic. But the Cathedral certainly shuns it as much as they can. No wonder the Duke didn’t request it outright. If the Cathedral found out I’d be facing something probably worse than death. And on top of it all, i don’t even think I’m capable of resurrecting a person. Though perhaps... I don’t think I’m not. Either way, I can’t accept the task, what would I tell the Grand Enchanter of the task? Or worse yet the Empresses own Death Speakers would sniff out the magic I cast. No I’ll have to reject it. Offer him some alternative. I’m not messing up this close to earning my way back to my rightful status of nobility because he can’t control his rage.

She couldn’t scream anymore. She tore her voice apart days ago. Was it days? Longer? She couldn’t tell anymore. That didn’t mean her body didn’t try every time. Didn’t mean she didn’t scream in pain to the point she’d be choking on her own blood. They tell you of the heroes who are captured. How they eventually give in to the pain. That they are too weak to fight or stay conscious. Or they speak of how their mind wanders to another place. A memory perhaps. But that wasn’t the case. Not with her. She refused no matter how badly she wanted to. She would not leave the pain. The words of the vile monster she placed on the throne did lose their meaning eventually though. She suspected she might have had her eardrums damaged. Or maybe had some kind of damage to her head that made her unable to truly comprehend the meaning. She didn’t know. What she did know was that her voice sounded as if she were underwater. The threats and the cruel, wicked, sweet words she spoke as she slowly unraveled her body to its last nerve were mostly incomprehensible. And she hated it. The hate, the anger, that she felt at them. They fuelled her for the first few weeks. But now she couldn’t understand them. She couldn’t no matter how much she tried to focus. She remembered the panic she felt once when she tried and tried and tried and it would just not come. But that panic was gone too. All she felt was pain. As if the Empress she once believed would better the world, the empress she fought for, the empress she placed on her throne, used her dark twisted power to replace everything she ever was with pain. As if every memory and emotion she ever felt was replaced by the eternal darkness that kept the monster alive. That was the worst part. She remembered her mother - the queen of the dragons. But the empress twisted it to feel like nothing but pain. She remembered her people, the lands she fought for, the beautiful forests and the ancient magics hidden within, but it felt like nothing but pain. She remembered her oath, she remembered her name she remembered. She remembered it all. But felt nothing at all. Nothing but the darkness that twisted her to even less. And the pain. The endless, eternal pain. And for what felt like a long time, that pain was the only thing keeping her going. That was the only driving force for her life to not give out. But then, there was that one final piece of her. Small and frail and slowly burning away at its edges. Hope. It was strange, how powerful a mother’s bond could be, to a child she hasn’t seen in nearly 18 years. A child she had to hide before she knew it for even one. She felt that ever burning flame linking Hope to her heart. She knew she would die here. Even if the rebels managed to find her. Save her. The damage was done. She would die here and never meet her daughter again. But Hope was alive. And that monster didn’t get her yet. She never would, even if she had to crawl through hell and the eternal darkness itself to kill the Empress herself, she’d never get her hands on Hope. That was the last ember of the once great Flame of Learis. The last ember of hope keeping her head high as she marched on towards her end. She did not need to survive. She simply needed to think of the one thing she did right, when she saved her child, sending her across the seas beyond the Empire’s grasp. She would die with Hope in her eyes, even if nothing else but pain and darkness remained. She grit her teeth as the pain overtook her once again. She would not break. She never would.

Okay I know you think that killing me will please her. But trust me. It won’t. Just think about it for a second. In less than 5 minutes the timer will reach zero and I’ll be gone. And you’ll have done your task, your final task before she finally loves you the way you love her. But how many times has she promised this? How many times did you hear the words ‘one more task’? You can kill me. Wait for the timer, watch me die, take my blood to her altar. I don’t have the power to stop you. But do you truly think once you do, that will be it? That’s the trick, don’t you understand? She’s giving you more tasks every time because she wants you to do the right thing! She wants you to understand her secret. She never wanted you to kill me, or Thomas, or that girl... Freya. She wants you to play smart. You have to show her that you understand what she wants without having to say it if she’s ever to love you. You said it yourself, you close your eyes and there she is. Task after task after task, what else could she want? Our blood doesn’t sate her, it never did. It was only ever a ruse, a chance for you to reveal to her your brilliance. I want to help you with this. I want her to finally love you the way you do. And killing me won’t do that. How many gifts, how many offerings have you left at her feet? How many bones scatter her shrine, how much blood has been spilled under her gaze? Giving her more won’t change it. You’re her favourite. You know she chose you. If she wanted from you what she wants from everyone else why would she not be pleased yet? You see now don’t you? You’ve always been a smart soul. If you spare me, you can walk back to her knowing you’ve solved the clues. So just stop the timer. At least to think it through. Would you not rather have time to think than risk not doing what she truly wishes from you? When you walk back to her altar, she will see you kneeling before her in the blood stains of all the tasks she has sent you to, and she will know you have finally seen the truth. Is that not what you said she demands? Does her visage not stare across the setting sun and the dark sea meeting the horizon eternally? She doesn’t want you to kill me. She wants you to learn. She wants you to see beyond words so that she can love you as you deserve. You have a minute. Once it passes there will be no going back. Stop the timer. Show to her that she can love you. You may not trust me but trust her. Close your eyes. What does she tell you? What does her eternal voice whisper to you? You hear her don’t you? 10 seconds. Please.