Chapter 13

It was over.

After the last of the Demons had been hunted down and killed, the defenders simply sighed in relief. They were too tired to celebrate. Many of them looked over the carnage, the destruction, the bodies, and it was then they they saw that they had come through the battle better than expected. Casualties were lighter than anyone had expected, partially due to planning, partially due to luck. No one race or unit suffered disproportionate casualties, and all ten dragons and all but one of the skyships had survived the battle.

But for the inner compound, there was personal news. Ulger was nowhere to be found. Ulger had been on the section of third wall the Demons had toppled, and it was feared that he was killed in the collapse. They had those who had not participated in the battle out clearing rubble along the collapsed walls to find bodies and look for survivors, and collecting the dead so they could be given proper burial, or cremation in the case of the Elara.

But overall, the mood in the inner compound was one of quiet relief. They had done it. They had beaten Shaz’Baket’s army, held her off despite her masterful push into the city. For that, the generals could admire and respect her accomplishment. She had attacked an army that outnumbered her own, was heavily dug in, and at a major disadvantage in magical power, and she came very close to winning the battle. Now, the generals resumed their supply lines with the apple grove and tended the thousands of wounded. Tsukatta seemed very disappointed that he had missed out on all the fighting, but he had to agree that him being in the compound had been of vital importance. Dolanna, who again stood within the Heart now that the threat of the Demons was over, could only chuckle and assure Tsukatta that he had been a wonderful help, attending Kang and Bragg and adding his own military viewpoint as they watched over the battle.

The city would not be rebuilt for the One. The One did not take that well, but he agreed to move this capital to another city. Some quick negotiation ensued, and the One agreed to rebuild Verix, which would become his new capital.

But Pyros would be rebuilt. The Conduit was here, the Heart was here, and this place was the site of the first act of cooperation of the races of Pyrosia. A small city would be built here, built by the Dura, a city that would serve as a central location for various races to meet to discuss diplomatic issues. Pyros would be a neutral city, belonging to no nation or kingdom or race or empire, a city held and managed by the Sorcerers and Elementalists of Pyros, where they were the law.

Tarrin saw Ianelle’s mind working when she overheard that statement. He had a strange feeling that she would not return to Sennadar any time soon.

Azakar was not entirely happy when they returned to the inner compound, as he talked with Kang, Zebri, Bragg, and Darax, and the huge body of the marilith was dumped unceremoniously at his feet. “You didn’t kill her?” he asked in surprise.

“No, that would have been too easy,” Tarrin answered. “Congratulations.”

“What?”

“She’s yours.”

“Mine? What do you mean, mine?”

“You’re good at managing problem children, Zak,” Tarrin told him evenly. “You watched over Telven, after all. Well, now you can watch over this one.”

“What are you talking about?”

Tarrin explained what he did to her. “She’s like Shiika now, but she has a leash,” he explained, holding up the chain. “I want you to watch over her. I want you to do to her what you did to Telven, beat some sense into her if needs be. And in return, you get an advisor as smart as Kerri, who can teach you in ways Darvon never could.”

“You fixed her that way?”

He nodded. “She’s bound to this chain, Zak. She has to obey whoever wears it, to the best of her ability. You never have to worry about her betraying you.”

“I, I’m not sure. It’s almost as if she’s a slave.”

“No, she’s paying back her debt for what she’s done to me, to you, to Pyrosia, and to Sennadar,” he said simply. “Her welfare is your concern, Zak. Take her in, teach her, do what you want with her, just be fair. And, when you think she’s earned it, give her her chain and let her go. It’s entirely your affair, your decision, and I won’t gainsay you.”

“I have complete say in the matter?”

“Total. All I ask is you make sure she earns this chain.”

Azakar looked at the chain for a long moment. “And if I don’t take it?”

“I’ll kill her here and now, and her soul will be sent back to the Abyss. And nothing I could do to her would compare to what the Demon Lord will do to her, because of what I did to her soul, Zak. You don’t want to know what he would do. You really don’t.”

“She has a mortal soul?” he gasped.

Tarrin shook his head. “Her soul was changed when I fixed her, the same way Shiika’s soul is different. I have…experience, dealing with souls, Zak. I did to her what I saw in Shiika.”

Azakar gave the chain a curious look, then he nodded. “I’ll take responsibility for her,” he said simply, taking the chain and sliding it over his head, tucking it under his breastplate.

“Do what you think best.”

“I will.”

“Now I get it,” Jasana said quietly to her father as Azakar had Shaz’Baket carried away, following her. “You changed her into something she despises. That’s her punishment.”

“It’s a part of it,” he agreed. “Under Zak, she’ll pay back the debt she owes my family. He’ll work her, he’ll wear her down, and then, when she’s ready, he’ll build her back up. When she leaves Zak’s charge, she’ll be a different woman. Completely different.”

“I still don’t get it, then. How is that punishment?”

“When you’re older, you’ll understand,” he said simply as he approached Dolanna. “Dolanna.” “Yes, my dear one?”

“I need you to finish things up here, and have Miranda send a message back home to warn them that we’re going to start getting everyone home in the next few days,” he said. “I’ll leave you in charge here, Dolanna.”

“Leave me? What do you mean?”

“There’s still the matter of the Demon Lord, Dolanna,” he said. “I’m not taking the army for that. I’m not going to need them. I’d just be getting people killed for no reason.”

“You cannot be serious!” she gasped. “You said that all the humans that were possessed were possessed by Demons in Auromar! Dear one, even you cannot get through an army that size to reach the Demon Lord!”

“I don’t have to, Dolanna,” he said calmly. “Trust me. The only ones that have to go are me and the One. We created this mess, and now we’re going to fix it, the both of us.” He glanced towards Kang. “Besides, for what’s going to happen there, Dolanna, I don’t want our army in the way. The Demon Lord has at least some minor portion of divine power now, and he’ll use it against us. It’s going to be him, me, the One, my shadow, the Firestaff, my sword, and the bow. Do you really want an army there?”

“I…ah. No, you are correct, my dear one. That will be no place for us. But are you sure you can reach the Demon Lord?”

“I’m positive, Dolanna, or I wouldn’t go,” he answered, stepping into the Conduit. “But, I have to leave quickly, so excuse me while I intrude on your domain for a little bit. One!” he shouted.

The One, who was in conversation with some of his mortal followers, looked up, nodded, and hurried over.

“You’re leaving? And you’re not taking me?” Jasana protested hotly.

“Where I’m going, cub, you can’t follow,” he told her. “And it’s nowhere any sane person would want to go.”

“Aren’t you going to, well, say goodbye, or warn everyone, or something?”

“I won’t be gone long,” he shrugged. “I’ll be back by morning. This won’t take long.”

“Every time you say that, father, something terrible happens,” she protested earnestly. He looked into his cub’s eyes, and he saw a terrible fear there, a fear that he may not come back…and that he had cheated death too many times to get away with it again.

He put a comforting paw on her shoulder. “Cub, this will be easier than what we did here. Remember, I have something with me that can end it immediately. I just need to get into position to use it, that’s all.”

“And that is why I will go with him,” the One said easily. “Between me and his shadow, we can keep the Demon Lord engaged and give Lord Tarrin an opportunity to finish this quickly.”

“Just so,” he affirmed with a nod. “And once the Demon Lord is dead, we’re done here.”

“We can go home?”

“Well, one of us can go home,” he told her. “Remember, this Weave needs a sui’kun to keep it here. After this is over, we’ll have to sit down and talk with some people and decide if we want the Weave to stay. And if it does, well, someone has to be here to hold it together. It’s you or me, cub. That, or we lure one of the other sui’kun to come over until this world produces a sui’kun of its own.”

“I didn’t think of that,” Jasana said, pursing her lips.

“I didn’t think you did,” he chuckled. He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek, then patted her on the shoulder. “Now let me get this done, cub. Just relax and listen to Dolanna, I’m sure she’ll put you to work.”

“I do have any number of chores that only a Sorcerer of her stature could complete easily,” Dolanna agreed.

“Sometimes I hate being a sui’kun,” she said petulantly, crossing her arms beneath her breasts and giving Tarrin a pouting expression.

“Welcome to adulthood, cub.”

Jasana stalked off, but Tarrin didn’t quite leave yet. He let Jasana vanish into the crowd in the compound, then he called Eron over. “What is it, father?”

“Cub,” he said. “Listen. We’re about to go fight the Demon Lord. We’re pretty sure we can take him down easily, but just in case he has something nasty hidden from us, I want you to stay close to Phandebrass.”

“Why Phandebrass?”

Tarrin reached into his belt pouch, and pulled out a tiny sapphire. “This is the back end of his Gemjump spell,” he answered. “I’m going to set this near to where we’re going to fight the Demon Lord. If things get ugly, I might need you there to use your power. If that does happen, Phandebrass can teleport directly to where it is and help you get to us, and though he can’t take anyone with him, he can bring a small animal he’s holding. That will be you.”

“Oh, I see. Alright, father. I’ll stay near Phandebrass. Does he know you may need him to magic me to you?”

“You and Dolanna will tell him,” he answered.

“Alright. If you need me, I’ll be there.”

“I can always depend on you, cub,” he said, patting Eron on the shoulder. “Just remember, if I call you, you have to be in cat form for Phandebrass to bring you. Are you ready to go, One?”

“I am ready.”

“Then let’s get this overwith.”

Auromar looked like death given form.

It was barren. Barren was a pretty good description, for it was totally, utterly dead. There were no plants. There were no animals. There were no insects. The land was a rocky wasteland of gray and reddish rocks, as far as he could see, in every direction. He was pretty sure that at that moment, he was the only living thing on Auromar.

They had appeared almost directly beside his shadow, which had not moved so much as a finger since last he saw it. The shadow still sat on his heels, sword in his lap, glowing red eyes open and facing the southeast, facing the direction in which the Demon Lord lay. The shadow did move when they appeared, transported here by the Firestaff after Tarrrin used the Weave to survey the location and find a good place to appear where their feet wouldn’t merge with any rubble strewn across the ground. It stood with fluent grace, taking the sword up in its right paw, then turned to face them.

“Sorry we took so long, Shaz’Baket made it challenging,” he said dryly as he extended out his wings, flaring them and beating them twice before folding them back. “Is the Demon Lord still there?”

The shadow nodded.

“Perhaps at this juncture, we should consider a plan of action,” the One stated.

“Plan? My plan is to go in there and kill him,” Tarrin retorted. “How we do that isn’t my affair. We’re so close now, I’m tired of making plans.”

The One chuckled. “Then if it pleases you, attend,” he said, kneeling down, his feathered wings brushing the ground. “The Demon Lord is within a citadel,” he began drawing a triangle in the sterile, sandy soil with a finger. “Surrounded by a city his troops are hastily erecting. Any approach from the ground would be impossible. Therefore, our attack should be from the air. Two of us have the means to fly, and we can easily carry your shadow. We fly in and invade the citadel, flying directly to his location. Once there, myself and your shadow will engage the Demon Lord in battle, while you try to shoot him with your arrow, using the Firestaff to protect yourself from any random or collateral destruction that would be wrought when divine powers oppose one another directly in the mortal plane. He will be hard pressed to defend against the two of us when he knows that you can end him with a single shot. In the confusion, one of us will most certainly fell him.”

“Simple, elegant, effective. I like it,” Tarrin stated.

“There will be more than two to face the Demon Lord,” came a voice from behind.

They all stood and looked, and it was a face Tarrin remembered, in a sketchy kind of way. It was Breina of the Dawn, a tall, lithe woman with hair the color of a rosy sunrise, skin of a light, delicate blue, wearing ornate plate armor and carrying a bow. It was her icon, more specifically. “You wished to speak with me, Tarrin? I assume to ask me to aid you?”

“Not really, but if you want to help, you’re more than welcome,” he said. “What about the other gods?”

“They don’t trust the One enough yet to risk their icons in his presence. I, however, have no such history with him, so it doesn’t concern me.”

“Well, you’re more than welcome along,” Tarrin told her.

She nodded and joined them. “I overheard your plan. Will you truly attack with so simple a strategy?”

“Yes, it will be more than effective,” the One replied.

“Then let us carry through with it.”

“Then gather around,” Tarrin ordered. “I’ll drop us right outside their city. From there, we pick up Bane and Breina and carry them up to the citadel. You two will be responsible for repelling any Demons that attack us on the way, while me and the One worry about any kind of attack from Gruz.”

Tarrin’s shadow nodded, and Breina put her hand on his forearm.

He had already scouted out the landing spot, on a barren rocky ridge overlooking the city they were building. Using the Firestaff, he transported them all to that location, into a sudden wind, into a sudden feeling of pure hatred, emanating from the city. Gruz knew they were there, and already, he could feel the shifting of the bubble in which he hid, trying to overwhelm the Weave and expand.

“This is it,” Tarrin breathed, dropping Phandebrass’ Gemjump focus in case he needed to call Eron to the battlefield. He took hold of the back of Breina’s breastplate and rose into the air, pulling her up with him, as the One picked up Tarrin’s shadow and moved to follow him. All four of them could sense the Demon Lord, could point right at him, so they had no problem going right towards him.

This was it. All the work he’d done over the last few months was about to pay off. Despite the Demon Lord’s clever trick to regain some power, it meant nothing. Tarrin had everything he needed to kill him, had enough support to use it, and had enough power to stand against what the Demon Lord could dish out. Though there would be hell to pay after this was done, when he returned the bow to the Deva, that didn’t matter. All that mattered was now, all that mattered was correcting the grievous mistake the One commited but Tarrin instigated, and preventing a Pyrosian version of Sennadar’s Blood War.

It all came down to this moment.

He wasn’t afraid. Goddess, after everything he’d been through, nothing really scared him anymore. This, this was just another in a long series of hairy life-or-death struggles he’d faced in his life, a life short in years but long in experiences, a life that seemed more fantastic than anything else, even to him, most of the time. Killing the Demon Lord would just be added to the list of enemies Tarrin Kael had vanquished over the years, just another obstacle to reclaiming his life of peace and contentment.

That was what all of this had been about. All he wanted to do was go home. He wanted to go home not as the Mortal God, feared, spied upon, and plotted against by the gods of Sennadar, but to return to the life he had before Val’s shadow brought the power hidden inside him out. Everything he’d done went back to that one simple goal, to live his own way, live his own life, and be free of all loose ends and lurking complications.

And he was about to come one step closer to that goal.

The Demons below howled and raged when they went over, but there was no resistance. Even those Demons who could fly did not intervene, did not try to stop them. Gruz was letting them come. Gruz was willing to fight.

They passed through the bubble and into land held sway to Gruz’s will, and no attack came. Tarrin aimed for a large balcony opening to a large gallery, landing on it quickly and taking up the Firestaff in both paws as his shadow and the One landed beside him. They looked at each other, then moved in through the open archway.

It was a cavernous throne room, so large that half of Aldreth would fit in it, stretching almost the entire length and bredth of the citadel’s structure. The ceiling soared a hundred spans over their heads, and the walls were supported with elegant, artistic buttresses with Demons sculpted into them, looking like ten mighty glabrezu were holding up the ceiling on their shoulders. On the far side there was a dais of a single step, and upon that dais sat a throne. Seated in that throne was Gruz, the Demon Lord, master of the glabrezu, flanked by an honor guard of glabrezu that were larger and more burly than their kind, and also shared Gruz’s trait of having bone sword-like spurs where the pincers would be on a normal glabrezu.

And so it comes to this. In a way, I’m glad of it, the thoughts of Gruz entered their minds. When you were killed in Pyros, I thought I’d seen the last of you, Tarrin Kael, and I couldn’t help but admire your skill and your courage. Sacrificing yourself to seal away the power of the Demons, that was brilliant. I never saw that coming. I almost regretted being robbed of the pleasure of killing you myself, and taking your soul as my trophy. You have proved to be the most troublesome adversary I have ever faced, but it ends here. You have brought both the Firestaff and the Sword of Fire to me. After I kill you, I will take them up and rule this world, and then return and conquer the Abyss. The Fiends will all bow to me! it said in a kind of ecstatic anticipation.

“I guess I can’t fault you for clinging to shallow hopes and hollow dreams, Gruz,” Tarrin growled, passing the Firestaff up into his wings, where the living fire curled around them, settled it behind his shoulders. “I brought you a little something from the Outer Planes, Demon. I went to a great deal of trouble to get it.”

Yes, yes, I heard. You somehow managed to gain possession of a Solar’s bow. But I think you will be the one in for a surprise when you try to use it, Gruz smirked, showing a long, yellow fang. He then stood up. But enough of this. I hunger for what is rightfully mine, and it is unseemly to be to polite to one’s food before eating it.

“Come get a taste, Demon,” Tarrin hissed, his eyes exploding into the green radiance that marked his anger, putting his ears back.

There was no signal that started the fight. Breina, the One, and his shadow charged forward in unison as Gruz’s minions surged from the dais and rushed to attack as Gruz stood up from his throne. Little pieces of polished metal rose up from the floor around Gruz’s dais and began to orbit his body randomly, but Tarrin ignored that. Gruz knew he had the bow, there was no reason to hide it. He rose into the air and called the bow and quiver out of the elsewhere, drew the arrow that had already been nocked, took aim at the Demon Lord, and then loosed.

The arrow screamed through the air, leaving a trail of glowing light and sparks as it hurtled towards Gruz, but the Demon Lord seemed totally unconcerned. The arrow shrieked in, aimed at his chest, but as it got almost within reach of him, the orbiting pieces of metal around the Demon Lord responded. Two of them quickly moved out of their path and interposed themselves between Gruz and the arrow. It struck that obstacle and ricocheted away, clattering to the stone floor and bouncing to a stop as the glow around the arrow faded away.

Alright, Tarrin had to admit to himself, that was pretty clever. Those little orbiting plates would try to shield Gruz from being hit. That would make this harder, but it still wasn’t going to be much of an issue to get around.

The guard of Demons that challenged the two gods and his shadow lasted only a moment. The shadow slammed into them head-on, and any Demon he touched shrieked in agony and collapsed to the floor, dead, their powers and energy taken by the shadow to add to his own. The One and Breina too drew blood, as the winged god tore through the glabrezu like a reaping wheat, cutting them out of his way as if they were a minor annoyance. Breina struck at them with her bow, the impacts devastating, sending Demons flying with every swing. The Demons tried to fight back, but they were overwhelmed, outclassed, and quickly were mowed down to leave Gruz facing them alone.

Tarrin’s shadow did not hesitate. The sword in his paws bursting into fire, he attacked Gruz head on. The Demon Lord raised one of the arms protruding from his chest and made a flicking motion, and it was as if the citadel itself responded. The shadow raised the sword and struck back at the power that sought to surround him, still trying to advance, get close enough to touch the Demon Lord and drain his power, though his ability to counter Demonic powers did nothing against the power the Demon Lord now wielded. This power was derived from the true faith of mortals—

True faith of mortals.

Of course!

“Breina!” he called. “Breina!”

“Yes, Tarrin?” she asked, nocking an arrow and aiming it at the Demon Lord. She loosed it, but the plates around him deflected it, both the arrow and the divine power behind that arrow. Space itself seemed to buckle when the arrow struck the plate, as the power of Gruz confronted the power of Breina, and a shockwave of air exploded from that impact, but not hard enough to knock them down. Breina’s power was very weak, she had few worshippers in this realm, and so their meeting didn’t rip space and cause widespread destruction. That she would face the One at such a disadvantage spoke of her courage, risking her fledgeling order on Pyrosia to do so, even when she once told Tarrin she would not interfere.

“The mortals! They’re all here! Find and kill the mortals!”

Breina’s eyes lit up, and she nodded enthusiastically. Gruz roared in sudden fury when Breina turned and ran towards the balcony, as he summoned forth all his power to end it before Breina could find and kill his worshippers. The death of each one would weaken him, and if she killed enough, he wouldn’t have the might to protect himself. Gruz charged past the shadow and the One, and it headed right for Tarrin. It was going after the only mortal, the only one he could kill quickly and easily, and the one holding the Firestaff, whose power would bolster his own and make him strong enough to challenge the other three attackers. Tarrin unleashed arrow after arrow at him, trying to slip one through the plates, but those little flying shields were flawless in their defense, stopping each and every arrow that tried to end this battle immediately. Tarrin sent the bow back into the elsewhere and took up the Firestaff in the center grip as a wave of divine power lashed at him. He struck at it as if hitting a foe, and the power of Gruz impacted the power of the Firestaff. The Firestaff struggled against Tarrin feverishly, with more power and determination than ever, and the Were-cat very nearly lost control of the artifact as he summoned forth the power to oppose that attack. He just barely managed to keep his will on the artifact and cause it to turn aside that blow, which slammed into the wall of the citadel and tore through it, opening out into empty air and sending an avalanche of shattered rock tumbling down the outside of the fortress to the ground below.

Good Goddess, how did it do that? He’d used much more power than that before, and never so much trouble controlling it! Could it be that it was seeing the end? It had to know that after Gruz was dead, Tarrin would have no reason to keep it, and would destroy it. Did that bolster it, make it try to break free using strength it had heretofore kept hidden? Possible, but one thing it told him was that he had better not rely on the Firestaff in this battle, for anything.

The Firestaff rebels against you, mortal, Gruz taunted as his sword-like arms sought to shear the Were-cat in half. He twisted aside in midair, then lanced upwards to avoid the second attack. But Gruz himself vanished instantly just as the shadow nearly grabbed hold of his leg, reappeaing before the One. The One raised his mirror-faced shield and charged, sword glowing with divine might, but Gruz knew better than to try to use his power against the One face to face, not with that shield of his. The air pulsated, charged with energy, as the One battled Gruz sword to bone spurs, parrying those bone blades, blocking with his shield. As the two of them fought face to face, Tarrin’s shadow raised the Sword of Fire as it ran to the Demon Lord’s flank, then unleashed the full power of that weapon at Gruz. The power, manifesting as a spiralling cone of fire, screamed at the Demon Lord, but then Gruz slashed at it with his sword-ending arm, exercising his own divine power. The citadel rocked when those two powers came into contact, dust filtering down from the ceiling, and the shadow’s attack was stopped. The shockwave slammed Tarrin, sending him flying across the huge chamber to tumble across the floor.

For a second, he felt like a mouse caught between the fighting of two stags. He had no divine power here, not with the Firestaff resisting him so strongly, and inside the bubble, he had no Sorcery. All he had was himself, his skill, and the Solar’s bow, and he was surrounded by friends and foe alike who either had power or wielded power vastly superior to his own. He was the weak link in the chain, he knew that. Gruz would focus on him, try to kill him to take the Firestaff from him, and then use it to defeat the One and his shadow.

But he would not back off. He had faced down enemies with just as much of an advantage and defeated them. Gruz would be no different. Tarrin’s shadow charged ahead with the sword raised to strike, but Gruz again vanished and reappeared on the far side of the room, not allowing the shadow anywhere near him.

Besides, a predictable enemy was a beatable enemy.

Tarrin landed by the shadow and again passed the Firestaff up into his wings and brought the bow back out. “Stop playing by his rules,” Tarrin told it as he nocked another arrow. “You have Druidic power. Use it.”

The shadow shook his head, motioning around them.

“He’s blocking it?”

The shadow nodded.

“I didn’t think of that,” he grunted. “Alright, we do this the hard way.”

It was almost more than the citadel could bear, but somehow it remained standing. The One and Tarrin’s shadow fought a game of cat and mouse with Gruz as the Demon Lord struck at them or defended itself against their power with his own, constantly retreating from the shadow while trying to pin down and kill Tarrin. But Gruz discovered that even without magic, Tarrin was a very hard Were-cat to kill. Tarrin understood what Gruz was doing and never put himself in a position where Gruz could blindside him, staying near to the ground, always ready to launch an arrow at Gruz any time he had a clear shot, hoping that those shields would miss and the arrow would kill him. It was a savage fight of quick movements, blasts of divine power, hastily launched arrows, and quick retreats as Tarrin stayed away from Gruz, Gruz stayed away from Tarrin’s shadow, and the One and the shadow gave constant chase. But time was against Gruz, and he knew it. Even now, Breina had invaded the city, killing Demons left and right as she sought out the mortals that gave Gruz his power, seeking to kill them and weaken their common enemy, and that knowledge gave Gruz an edge of desperation, and made him dangerous.

Nothing was more dangerous than a cornered animal, for it had nothing to lose.

Gruz appeared not two steps in front of him, so close Tarrin could have slapped him with his tail, inside the protection of his metal plates, taking a terrible risk. The Were-cat was not surprised, reacted quickly to shoot Gruz with an arrow, but Gruz attacked not with his bone swords, not with a focused blast of his power, but with a wall that Tarrin could not possible evade or counter. Tarrin was flung across the chamber, hundreds of spans, as bones shattered and his mind swam in a black fog of pain and confusion. He landed bonelessly and tumbled to a stop, and did not move for a moment. Gruz moved in for the kill, but then his shadow was there, standing between the Demon Lord and his quarry with the Sword of Fire held in both paws, daring the Demon Lord to try. The One charged up from the rear, shield leading. Tarrin’s shadow unleashed an attack of raging, destructive force, tightly controlled. Gruz vanished, reappearing behind the shadow and Tarrin, but the shadow too quickly moved.

The One saw it coming, realized what he had to do. He slid to a stop and presented his shield to that attack, and braced himself. The attack hit the shield and reflected from it, sent screaming back the way it came, expertly aimed right at where Gruz had reappeared. Gruz saw Tarrin’s shadow unleash another attack of pure divine power, but to his surprise, he found himself being attacked from two directions simultaneously. The shadow had timed his attack perfectly, forcing Gruz to vanish again, reappearing across the vast chamber to collect himself and prepare for another attempt. The two attacks hit each other where Gruz had been standing, exploding violently with such force that Tarrin was pushed several spans across the floor.

In pain, weak, his body struggling to heal itself, Tarrin pushed himself to his feet. He moved on broken legs, overcoming the pain, refusing to pass out. If he passed out, the Firestaff would break free. He took the the air, where broken bones wouldn’t matter, raising the Solar’s bow and nocking another arrow, his glaring eyes daring Gruz to try that again.

But there was…warmth. The holy power in his right arm, he felt it surge through his arm, repairing the broken bones. Then that warmth spread through his body, and he could feel it bolstering his own regeneration, accelerating it, allowing him to recover from the attack as if it had not been a magically-induced injury. In a quick moment, Tarrin was whole again.

And he knew what he had to do.

“Defend Tarrin,” the One told the shadow as he surged forward on his feathered wings.

The change in tactics was effective. The shadow stayed within reach of Tarrin at all times as the One sallied forth and tried to engage the Demon Lord, but the Demon Lord has his own battle plan. He harried the shadow, trying to draw it out of position with attacks and feints, tried to separate the shadow from Tarrin. Tarrin saw that it was as stalemate, and what was more, since he was the direct focus of this battle, and he was carrying something the Demon Lord wanted…something had to be done about it.

He moved swiftly and without thought. Thought would warn everyone. He sent the bow back into the elsewhere and took the Firestaff in his left paw and swooped up behind the shadow. He did not ask. He struck the shadow with the Firestaff, attacking his own companion, striking it squarely in the back. It staggered forward, but Tarrin wrested the Sword of Fire from his charcoal paw, taking it up in his right paw.

The Firestaff became alive in his paw. It twisted and writhed physically, trying to break free of his grip, but the black-furred paw held the staff in a grip of iron, and would not relent. It audibly squealed, a sound of utter terror and rage, but it could do nothing.

As the Demon Lord looked on in horror, as the One rushed forward, as his shadow staggered away, Tarrin set the Firestaff’s butt end on the floor, raised the Sword of Fire, and without hesitation, struck it.

The Sword of Fire, the instrument of the Mortal God, a being who had been created by the Firestaff and then freed from it, wielded by the one being in all the multiverse that could destroy the Firestaff, sheared the reddish-black artifact in half.

The pieces fell to the floor, smoking. The power contained within the Firestaff, the power to corrupt, the power to destroy, turned on those fragments. The two pieces began to glow with both heat and power, vibrating on the floor, but then the Entropy that they represented destroyed itself, unable to exist in the material plane without the protection of the staff to insulate it. The two fragments burst into flames, briliant, white-hot flames that melted the floor beneath them, and then burned away to nothingness.

Not even ashes remained.

The Sword of Fire, whose power derived from the Firestaff, shuddered in Tarrin’s paw. The power within flared with brilliance, causing the sword to illuminate the entire chamber, and then it faded away, leaving behind nothing but mortal steel. Its power was gone. All vestiges of the Firestaff had been destroyed, leaving behind only the memory that it once existed.

Tarrin’s shadow gave him a solemn, eloquent nod, understanding what he was trying to accomplish, and then it too wavered, and then vanished like mist. It too was a creation of the power of the Firestaff, and it too could not be sustained once the artifact was destroyed. It evaporated like mist in the summer sun, and it was no more.

Tarrin had fulfilled his promise to Niami and Ayise. The Firestaff, everything that had once been part of the Firestaff, and everything created either directly or indirectly by the power of the Firestaff, were no more. It was removed from the multiverse once and for all.

NOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Gruz roared, his fury shaking the citadel itself.

“That was your last chance, Gruz,” Tarrin said quietly, narrowed eyes regarding him coldly, recalling the Solar’s bow, arrow already nocked. He drew it smoothly, giving the Demon Lord an icy stare. “Now come and die.”

The One gave him a wild look, then nodded in comprehension. Gruz was trying to secure the Firestaff to defeat his adversaries, who were actually more powerful than he was. Tarrin removed it from the game, and took away Gruz’s last hope of salvaging victory. Without the Firestaff, with Breina out there homing in on his mortal followers, and facing a god and a mortal who carried a weapon that could kill anything, Gruz was out of options, and out of time. All he could do now was try to kill as many of them as he could before his time on Pyrosia was brought to a brutal end. Tarrin sacrificed some of their power and one of their own, but in the end, he ended up with the greater advantage because of it.

That rampage started instantly. Gruz threw all caution to the wind and lashed out at them. The top of the citadel exploded as Gruz held nothing back, lashing out at Tarrin Kael in a bid to destroy the mortal before it was said and done, but the One was suddenly there. The One protected Tarrin with a barrier of divine power, a sphere of force that turned aside the Demon Lord’s wrath, though that wrath devastated the grand citadel built in his honor. Smoking fragments of stone were sent longspans into the air, soaring out over the barren wasteland of Auromar, causing the One to protect himself and Tarrin from an avalanche of shredded rock that inundated the floor, a floor now open to the air, a great flat platform on which the final act was played out. The Demon Lord charged in to tear his opponents apart with his bone spurs, kicking boulders out of his way.

Tarrin fired at Gruz, and again, and again, but the spinning metal plates continued to protect him, blocking his shots with perfect precision. Despite the fact that all of Gruz’s fury was aimed right at Tarrin, he abandoned the One, racing to the side, then turning towards the One in what seemed a suicidal attack. Gruz turned on him with absolute hatred raging through his eyes, unleashing another attack of divine power. The power lashed out at Tarrin, but the One was again there, defending Tarrin from the attack. Tarrin’s shadow slipped around Gruz quickly and silently, then moved with blazing speed, but the Demon Lord moved with equal speed, unleashing a blast of divine power at the shadow, who did nothing to prevent it.

The One did not just hold back. He pressed forward, his sword and shield flashing in the light of the setting sun, staining the blade blood red with the red light of the horizon as it lashed out. Gruz met that attack with a bone spur, and the power behind each of them caused another shockwave of power to ripple out from them, blasting debris off the citadel, causing Tarrin to shield his eyes with a paw and slide backwards, his claws digging into the rock beneath him to slow him to a stop.

Behind the battle, in the place where the shadow had stood before it was undone by the destuction of the Firestaff, a tiny mote of light appeared. It raised up from the floor, a tiny, dancing point of soft white light, and then it vanished. Another appeared, then another, rising up from the floor like tiny embers, to wink out of sight. More appeared, then more, and then a small ghostly ball of soft, glowing light rose up from the rubble of the ceiling amid the tiny motes. It slowed to a stop, hovering in the air, seeming to regard the drama playing out, and then it too vanished.

To change everything.

Both Gruz and the One stopped. They both looked around them, looked up, their faces horrified. Even Tarrin could sense…something. A, a presence. A feeling that things were different, almost like the very texture of reality had just shifted ever-so-slightly. It came from the All, as the All of this world, it, it…changed.

Around Gruz, the little metal plates that protected him ceased moving. They too were distracted by that presence. But Gruz, his face filled with fear, did not register it. He was stunned, fixated.

Vulnerable.

Tarrin reacted with a predator’s instinct. In a smooth motion, he drew the bow of the Solar, felt the vanes of the arrow tickle his cheek as he quickly and expertly lined up the shaft with the Demon Lord. All sound vanished. All things except the Demon Lord seemed to vanish from his sight. There was nothing but him, the Demon Lord, and the arrow. He sighed, releasing his breath, and relaxed his fingers.

The arrow was loosed. It burst into golden light, sparks flying from the spinning vanes of its tail, arcing through the air. Gruz seemed to move in slow motion to Tarrin, looking at him, his eyes widening, raising a bladed arm, metal plates lurching in suddon motion to intervene, but it was too late.

The arrow slithered past a metal plate that was a split second too slow, and struck him directly in the face, right between the eyes. Gruz’s expression did not change when the arrow burrowed between his eyes, into his brain, and then the arrow blazed with golden light, holy light, as the power of the arrow was unleashed. The arrow invaded the body of the Demon Lord and shattered it from the inside, shearing the connection between the material body and the soul, piercing the link holding it in the material plane. Gruz wailed in agony as his entire body began to blaze with golden light, staggering back, and then he screamed.

And then the light faded. Gruz, the Demon Lord, master of the glabrezu, was slain. The body collapsed on its back to the floor, and evil black smoke began wafting up from the corpse as it began to decompose.

Sighing, Tarrin lowered the bow of the Solar, then took in a deep, cleansing breath. The One looked back to him, his expression blank, unbelieving, lowering his sword.

It was over.

Below, in the city, Demons summoned by the power of the Demon Lord shuddered, and then they vanished in a black mist, banished back to the Abyss.

Tarrin took the bow in both paws as he felt the bubble of the Demon Lord’s influence waver, and then vanish. The Weave reset to its original position, strands returning to the area, and he felt a sudden wild elation rush through the Weave, rush through the world. Dolanna knew that they had won, that it was over. She was probably passing the happy news even now, but there was no elation for Tarrin. There was only relief.

The One looked at him in wild disbelief. “How?” he could only ask, in shock, looking at Tarrin.

“How what?” he asked.

“How have you done this?” he asked, actually reaching out and touching Tarrin, then recoiling. “It defies belief!”

“What are you talking about?”

“How can you not know? This baffles me.”

“One, just spit it out!” he said irritably. “I’ve had a long day, I’m in no mood for word games!”

The One looked at him, then actually laughed. “Tarrin, I do not know how to explain it, but somehow, some way, you are here. Everywhere.”

“What do you mean?”

“The All sings of it, Tarrin Kael. It has taken a new god as its master. There is a new Elder God of Pyrosia, and it is you.”

“Absolutely not!” Tarrin snapped. “I’m no god, One! Look!” He took his white furred paw, extended his claws, and raked it over the pad of his left palm, producing a liberal amount of blood.

“And that is the mystery,” he said. “You stand before me as a mortal, but yet, I feel the power of this world respond, and it tells me that you are the new Elder God of this plane. You are a Druid, Tarrin. Touch the All. Feel it for yourself.”

He did so. Reaching within, through the Cat, he came into touch with the All of this world, tentatively, carefully. But there was no undirected power there, as Triana had called it. He could feel something there, a force, a power, a guidance that gave it direction and purpose. He looked deeper into the All, and deeper, and deeper still, and then he saw it. He saw eyes staring back at him, green eyes with vertically slitted pupils. He felt that presence then, that force, that will, that entity, and it left him speechless.

It was there. Oh, Goddess.

Even he could not deny what was there. The god that stared back at him through the Weave was indeed Tarrin Kael, a presence that was both exultant and solemn, overjoyed it had taken up a new place, but knowing that it had much work ahead of it to restore this plane to a rightful, prosperous order.

It was something that Tarrin had seen once before.

What stared back at him was the divine half of his soul, joined to the All of Pyrosia, forming the new Elder God of this plane. It was him, but it was a part of him that he had cast off and thought destroyed, ravaged by the material plane when he excised himself from being a part of it. But somehow, some way, how he had no idea, it had survived. It had come here, to this plane with no Elder God, and had taken up that vacant position. And the All of this world accepted it, joined to it, and caused it to be restored.

It was him. But it was not him. That half, that part, it was no longer connected to Tarrin Kael. It was a new entity, a new being, created from bizarre circumstances to be sure, but it was its own soul, its own mind, its own power.

It was too much to even think about right now. He just laughed and sat down on the stone floor, hard, sending the bow back to the elsewhere. “It’s not much of a mystery to me, but it’s a surprise that it’s here,” he told the One. He then explained how he had regained his mortality. “The only question is, how did it get here? I saw it die in Sennadar. I saw it with my own eyes. How did it survive?”

“The how may not be relevant,” the One said. “But it seems that I now have a new Master, and I am being summoned. I must answer this summons. You—er, the Elder God here calls all gods to his presence, and we must answer the call without delay. Are you well to return on your own? After all, there is nothing left here to challenge you.”

“There’s probably some human worshippers of the Demon Lord left over—“

“No. They are gone. The first act of the Elder God was to strike dead any who had true faith in the Demon Lord, as is within his power, severing the last thread holding Gruz in this dimension. He is forever banished from this realm.”

Tarrin absorbed that news with quiet efficiency. “Then I’ll be fine. Go on, you don’t want to keep, er, him waiting.”

The One nodded, and then he simply vanished from the citadel, answering the summons.

Tarrin flopped onto his back, looking up at the darkening sky. It wasn’t quite the way one might celebrate achieving ultimate victory after a long, hard, exhausting journey, but for Tarrin, it was just right. He looked up into the sky, up at the stars, and could only wonder how it had been done. How had the divine soul survived? How did it manage to get to this place and convince this plane to take it as its new master, thus becoming the Elder God of this plane? He was sure that it would be quite a story. Quite a story indeed.

Somehow, Ayise had to have a hand in it somewhere. Had she saved the other half of his soul and sent it here? It was possible.

But, truth be told, it really wasn’t his problem. That half of him was in no way connected to him, it was its own entity, a completely separate being, and now running this material plane was his problem. Tarrin had no idea how it got here, how it had come to take the position of Elder God, but it really wasn’t his concern. But, he had to share the One’s surprise. It was as much a shock to him as it was to the One.

Just another crazy twist in his crazy life.

He sat up, feeling just a little bit better. It was over now, but there were some things to do. He had to get everyone home, and once he was sure things were going to be alright, he had to return to the Outer Planes to return the bow, and face his punishment.

He stood up, and felt several presences swirling around him. Dolanna, Jasana, Jula, Ianelle, and several da’shar, all in the strands, looking for him, making sure he was alright. He ignored them, looking up at the stars, and he could only sigh. They reminded him that there were people waiting for him, that there was a life to reclaim, and he still had a duty to complete.

My, how things had gotten even more tangled, even after vanquishing the Demon Lord.

The celebration became genuine when Tarrin returned to Pyros, victorious, carrying the black-bladed sword that had once been the Sword of Fire, but was again nothing but a piece of crafted metal. He held it negligently in his paw as he appeared near Dolanna, and the instant he appeared, his daughters, mate, and family rushed to him. But Tarrin had too many questions in his mind to be too joyful.

He hugged his daughter, flicking her on the nose and telling her he really did mean it when he said he’d be right back, hugged the twins, took his son’s paw, and held Jula under his arm for a long moment. But the reunion broke up when Triana rushed up, her green eyes blazing, and grabbed him by the paw. “Cub, we will talk now,” she told him.

She pulled him to where Sapphire and Haley were waiting, on the far side of the compound, and all of them were looking at him with accusing glares. “What did you do? What did you do?”

“Oh, the All,” he noted, glancing at them. “It wasn’t me, mother. There’s a new Elder God of Pyrosia. I’d guess the All works now, and Druidic magic functions.”

“Oh, it does all right, but how do you explain just who is behind the All?”

“I really can’t,” he shrugged. “It’s the divine part of my soul. It survived somehow, and now it’s taken over as the Elder God here.”

Haley gaped at him, and Sapphire gave him a long, searching look. “Can you feel it, my little one? Feel that other part?”

“No, we’re separate people,” he answered. “I’m not an Avatar, Sapphire. When I divided myself from the divine parts of me, I split my soul in two. There’s no connection between us. Me and him, we’re two completely separate beings.”

“A very unusual thing,” Sapphire noted. “When I felt the All of this world change, I touched it to assense it, and found you behind it. For a moment, I thought you had abandoned your mortality and become the Elder God of this world. When Dolanna reported that you were very much still alive and mortal, I was no end of confused.”

“No, I didn’t become a god,” he said intensely. “I was a god once already. I didn’t much care for it.”

Haley laughed. “Well, that answers that. It really had us in a knot. Any idea of how it happened?”

“Absolutely none, but that other half of me couldn’t have gotten here by itself. I think Ayise had a hand in this.”

“Always possible,” Sapphire noted. “Anyway, now that that is settled, how was it there? Did things go to your satisfaction?”

“Gruz is gone, that’s all I cared about,” he answered. “Breina of the Dawn came and helped us too. She had more guts than the other gods of this world.”

“No doubt why her little Priestess was attracted to her,” Haley chuckled. “That little human is one ball of pure guts. I like her already.”

Once Triana was satisfied, they all returned to the others. Tarrin put aside his questions and just reveled in the moment, relieved beyond measure that, at long last, it was over. Gruz was gone, the threat was removed, and what was more, this world now had someone to take the reins and keep things under control. He visited with everyone, one by one, and then they all turned to the task of completing the cleanup after the battle.

There was even more good news. Vendari labored with Dura wielding hammers and rock picks, and they unearthed a void in the rubble of the third wall. Within that void were sixteen survivors, and among them was Ulger. The scarred Knight was tending to an unconscious Sha’Kar Sorceress when the Dura broke into the hole, and all were pulled out and herded to the medical tents so they could be tended. They continued to labor for the rest of the day, either burying or burning the dead, clearing rubble, and looking for wounded and survivors. But, by sunset, once the Sorcerers had time to rest and recover, they used their power to quickly pinpoint any undiscovered survivors, and once they were recovered, everyone stopped for a good meal, rest, and recuperation.

That sunset marked the end of an era of chaos and disorder on Pyrosia, and tomorrow would be the dawn of a new one. There was a new Elder God on Pyrosia now, and Tarrin had no doubt he was laying down the law to his subject gods even as the mortals celebrated their victory over the Demons with a meal and tankards of ale.

But for Tarrin, all this was just temporary. He had a lot to answer for with powers higher up in the food chain, and the reality of that was weighing on him a little bit. He had used the bow of the Solar to slay the Demon Lord, and now the spectre of punishment for the acts that acquired it was starting to creep up on the horizon. He wouldn’t shy away from it, but after everything that happened, he just wanted a little time to be with his family before that came to pass. It made him a little distant and pensive, and his friends and family, sensing his mood, gave him a little space. He sat with them and enjoyed a fine meal Conjured by Triana in the inner compound, where all his friends and family and the command staff sat at long tables and toasted their victory.

After the meal, Miranda got in touch with Kikkalli, and arranged to have Phandebrass and Kyrienna send the armies home using Gates. While that was being done, the Elara and Dura were already preparing to return to their homes. Darax was going to march the Dura out in the morning, and the Elara were planning on having their Gatemasters open gates to send the Elara home when the moon came into alignment with Pyros in two days. They could do it at any time, but it was decided to give the army and the magicians a little more time to learn from the Sennadite visitors.

That night, he lay on a bedroll in a tent pitched in the inner compound with Mist snuggled up beside him, but he couldn’t sleep. He lay with his eyes open, staring at the top of the tent, still not entirely sure why he didn’t feel happier about how things had happened, and still unsure of exactly how things had happened the way they did. He yawned and blinked, then rubbed his eyes.

When he opened them, he was…somewhere else. He sat up quickly, realizing he was sitting naked on a meticulously neat floor. He scrambled to his feet, at a loss. What happened? Was this a dream? Did he nod off and fall asleep? It didn’t feel like a dream, that was for sure. He looked around, and something…tickled him. This place, he’d been here before. It was a shop, a merchant’s shop. The place was neat, with a counter separating the front door from the rest of the shop, where he was. He padded back and found stands, tables, and three busts, each holding clothes of designs.

It was a tailor’s shop. He never remembered being in tailor’s shop before.

Well, given that he was naked, it was certainly convenient that this dream took place in a tailor’s shop.

“It’s about time,” came a crisp voice from behind him. Boots came down an open staircase in the corner he hadn’t noticed before. When a silver-furred tail ghosted into view, it all clicked in his mind. He had been here before. This was the shop of Cassiter, a silver fox Wikuni tailor who lived in Suld.

Odd site for a dream, given it happened when he had been human.

“I thought you’d never get here,” he said pleasantly, carrying a bundle in his arms. “Congratulations on your victory.”

“Cassiter?” he asked in confusion.

“I see you remember me,” he chuckled, handing Tarrin the bundle. “For you. Your old clothes were looking a bit worn.”

“Uh, thank you. What’s going on? How did I get here?”

“You’re dreaming, of course,” he answered. “And I was getting a little cross waiting for you to go to sleep.”

“I don’t understand.”

“That’s normal, of course,” he said crisply, walking over to one of the busts. “Hmm. I think this vest could do with something. Maybe some goring,” he said, putting a finger to his silver-furred muzzle.

“I’m dreaming?”

“At the moment, yes. I thought it might be best to talk to you without your conscious mind getting in the way. I’m sure you’ll be paying me a visit in person, soon, though. After all, you have something that belongs to me.”

Tarrin gave him a confused look.

“I do want the bow back, Tarrin. I trusted it in your hands, but really, I don’t like letting things like that lay around. People might get ideas.”

It clicked in his mind, even in the dream. “You’re…you’re Him!” he gasped.

“Yes. And thank you for not having an apoplexy or anything like that,” he chuckled, looking back at him. “It’s hard to talk to mortals when they’re laying on the floor gibbering like a baboon. See, that’s why I prefer talking to you this way. If I’d come to you when you were awake, I don’t think this conversation would remain rational for very long.” He fidgeted with the vest on the bust a little. “Red satin, I think. I could gore it with red satin. I think it would look rather dashing. I’m making it for the Baron of Ultern, you know.”

“You’re really Cassiter?”

“Of course. It’s how I keep my eye on things without anyone knowing,” he answered, his tail swishing back and forth as he put a few pins in the vest, produced from a silk band around his left wrist. “Nobody knows, of course. Not even your Elder Gods. I couldn’t keep an eye on things on Sennadar if they knew, after all. They’d be running to me every day, asking me this, asking me that, begging for favors, and trying to hide the things they don’t want me knowing about.” He glanced back at Tarrin with a smile. “Now, what do you think about this one? Brocade or satin?” he asked, motioning at a sketch of a very elaborate dress hanging on the wall by the bust.

“Satin,” he said in surprise.

“You think so?”

“Well, you asked,” he said, trying to calm down.

“So I did,” he chuckled. “So, we have a little problem to talk about, Tarrin. You stole something belonging to one of my Solar.”

“I, I had to. I didn’t have a choice.”

“No, I don’t think you did, and for that I can’t really fault you. But, we do have to do something. If you weren’t punished for it, people might think my Deva are getting soft,” he chuckled.

“I’m, I’m really sorry.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. You were just doing what you were supposed to, that’s all,” he said with a wave of his hand, with his back still to Tarrin.

“What I was supposed to?” he asked.

“Tarrin,” he said, turning around. “You’re a mi’shara. Do you know what that means? What it really means?”

“I…” he began, then he stopped and thought about it a moment. “I know what I was told, really. That I was born because of a threat so powerful it threatens the Balance.”

“Yes, that’s a part of it,” he nodded. “But there’s another side to that, Tarrin. A mi’shara is born out of Entropy so they can break the rules, to correct a problem that demands that kind of attention. But the other side of that, Tarrin, is that the mi’shara is destined to adhere to that task. Son, you and your son, and Spyder, all of you are the only mortals born with a future laid out for you. No other mortals have that restriction. There’s no such thing as a future, after all,” he said, motioning towards Tarrin, but he realized he was motioning at something behind him. Tarrin turned and looked, and saw people moving past the shop’s windows, Suldan citizens going about their business on a sunny autumn day. “For them, the sky is the limit, Tarrin,” he said gently. “There’s nothing holding them back. They can do anything they want, be anything they want, if they work for it hard enough. But you, and Spyder, and Eron, you were born with a task laid at your feet, locking you down a single path. And in compensation for that limitation, you are given the ability to reach beyond other mortals to accomplish that task.”

“But my task was complete long ago,” he said. “I was created to kill Val.”

“No, Tarrin. Val was just one step along the path, that’s all. Come, sit down.” Tarrin turned and looked, and found a table and two chairs where none had been before. Cassiter sat down in one of the split-backed chairs, accommodating his tail, and Tarrin found himself seating himself across from him. “Your task was a very long one, Tarrin,” he told him. “You see, a long time ago, something came to this world that really had no business being here.”

“The Firestaff!” he gasped.

Cassiter nodded. “That’s right. That was what you were born to deal with, Tarrin. Since the day you were conceived, you were set on a collision course with the Firestaff. But, you’re interrupting me,” he said with a toothy grin.

“Sorry.”

“That’s alright. Now then, when the Firestaff first arrived here, it was enough of a concern to bring about the first mi’shara, someone who died long ago,” he explained. “That mi’shara was tasked to hide it, keep it out of mischief.”

“Why not destroy it?”

“Because I don’t really like doing that unless the situation demands it,” he answered. “The Firestaff served a purpose, Tarrin. It was a part of the way things work. Yes, it destroyed worlds, but that destruction is sometimes necessary to foster creation. It’s part of the cycle of life, just on a much bigger scale. Now, the first mi’shara born to deal with the Firestaff did his job well, holding it through its first cycle. Then he hid it and passed on. But, he didn’t hide it well enough. Five thousand years later, Val found it and used it, and touched off the Blood War. Spyder was the mi’shara spawned because of that little incident. Her task was to fix the damage and get Sennadar back under control, and she did her job well. But, when its last cycle came about, Entropy spun you out, my son, and tasked you with dealing with the Firestaff once and for all. It had become too dangerous.”

“Hold on. You said there’s no such thing as the future. If that’s so, how does Entropy know to make mi’shara?”

“Ah, because sometimes, there are some events that become unavoidable, and the only way to avoid them is to create a mortal that exists outside the normal rules,” he said. “There is no future, Tarrin, but there is the possibility of the future. Entropy, as well as some gods and even some mortals, are very sensitive to those possibilities, and they can read them. Kikkalli, she is a good example, Tarrin. She is sensitive to the lines of probablity, and can predict future events with some accuracy. However, when all possibilities converge into a single path, then Entropy knows that something is wrong, and it reacts. In your case, all possibilities converged on a single event, my son, and that event was Val reclaiming the Firestaff and destroying your world. Entropy could not permit it, because it would start a chain reaction that would force the universe down a single path. That is Entropy’s true purpose, my son. Yes, it represents destruction, but its ultimate goal is to maintain randomness. Fire, as you might have noticed, has a similar reputation as a destructive force, but it’s also vital for survival. Entropy is like fire, just on a very grand scale.”

“I…I see the truth of it.”

“I thought you might. You’re rather clever, you know. As I was saying, when Entropy foresaw the path of things, it then understood that its own agent was too dangerous, and moved to destroy it. You are the result. You were born with a path before you, my son, and you have walked that path to its conclusion. You have succeeded, and for that, I must thank you. The Balance has been protected, because of you.”

“I was just doing what I thought had to be done.”

“Yes, but in your case, it truly had to be done,” he smiled. “Everything you have done, almost since the day you were born, brought you to this point. It’s why you trained for battle, when everyone else your age was more interested in girls. It was what brought you to Suld, it was what made you go against your instincts and obey Niami, even when you had no reason for it, and it was the only reason you chose to do what you did when you destoyed Val. You became part of what you had to destroy,” he said with a smile. “You did it because you knew that the Firestaff could only be destroyed by a hand that had once served it. And so, you used the Firestaff on yourself, then you freed yourself from its power. The issue with the Demon Lord did complicate things a little bit, but in its own way, it was necessary to help you reach the end of your road. And let me tell you, it wasn’t easy to make the One forget himself enough to make that kind of mistake,” he said with a toothy smile.

“You did that?”

“Sometimes destiny needs a little push here and there,” he chuckled. “That’s why I keep my eye on things. So, now you know that everything that happened on Pyrosia happened for a reason. For a little while, the entire world of Pyrosia became locked into your path, and you twisted it to serve your purpose.”

“Is what what mi’shara really do? Change destiny?”

“No, Tarrin. Destiny conforms to a mi’shara because of his actions, but that’s not truly makes him what he is. Every mi’shara is born with traits that sets them apart from normal mortals, that allows them to reach outside the rules. For Spyder, that trait is enormous powe