Chapter 70 #2
The Druid straightened with a weak chuckle, backing away toward the portal. “Life has a way of sprouting where death leaves rot. And tears…” He smiled at her knowingly as he lowered to pluck a spider lily from the roots of the tree. “…tears can coax what even gods cannot.”
Before she could demand his meaning, the Druid winked and stepped through the Elder Tree light and was gone, the portal vanishing like smoke in the wind.
Then all fell still again.
As if he had never been there at all.
“Pay that schemer no heed,” a new voice said.
Alora frowned up at the trees. “The dead are not the only ones who wander today.”
Expelling a heavy sigh, she and turned to face Sunneva.
“Should I be worried that he made off with a Blood Bloom?”
The Goddess of Death glittered like frost in the moonlight. Her blue eyes shifted, glancing at the oak tree thoughtfully. “He is a nuisance to be dealt with by another fate in another time.”
Alora sighed. “Why are you here?”
“If you have forgotten, I did say you would see me again.”
“Yes, when it came time to collect Rune’s soul,” Alora hissed, her eyes stinging. “But you were not there! There was nothing left of him to take!” Her voice broke and everything she held back bubbled up her chest. “Why did he have to die?”
“I could tell you it was the cost to cleanse his soul. He had many sins to pay for, but Rune was always meant to die for the world. That was his purpose.”
The words struck like ice water.
The Goddess of Death turned away, and Alora followed her through the forest, the temperature growing cold.
“When the Primordials were sealed, it was only ever a temporary solution.” As Sunneva spoke, frost crept outward from her bare feet, delicate as lace, feathering across the grass.
“They could not be destroyed without tearing the cosmos itself, and Vorak would always find a path back. So Elyōn allowed him to scheme and made his own design in answer.”
Her fingers brushed over a spider lily tangled among the thorns. It crystallized beneath her touch, petals freezing mid-bloom.
“Then came a daughter born from a flower, whose existence defied the laws of creation. And a son born of a fallen star, cast down to wander in fury and solitude until he found the one thing he would surrender himself for.”
Alora’s breath misted softly, her throat tightening.
“Light and shadow entwined. Two souls meant only for sacrifice. No divine pairing. No promised mate. No thread woven for them by the Fates.” Sunneva stepped through the briars, and they came out on the edge of the forest. “And so, in the absence of destiny… they became it for each other. That imbalance drew them together. And only together could they restore the balance the Realms had lost.”
Alora followed her gaze to the Karag D?r in the distance, coated in fog.
So they had chosen each other. And in choosing, they became what fate refused to give them.
A mated pair… who were still torn apart.
Alora’s vision blurred with tears. “That’s cruel.”
“Yes…” Sunneva’s gaze glistened with sorrow. “But it had to be his choice… as it was yours.”
Alora’s breath faltered as the last of her lost memory returned.
The day the Shadow Keep fell, the Heavens had flashed with lightning, Alora called out to Elyōn.
She had stayed his hand with a promise. He allowed them a second chance because Vorak’s return was inevitable. “Spare him, and I will do what you cannot. I will slay Vorak.”
Time had been rewound. The past reset.
Everything started over again, but not quite the same.
She had offered herself to the will of the Heavens, to trap them both in this dream-loop because she loved Rune enough to give him one last chance to get it right.
And he did.
Now the Heavens must honor the vow.
As Alora glanced down at the spindle in her hand, she at last, understood. The source of the curse had always been her. The thing that was wrong with world. The curse began on the day of her birth, and it would only end with her death.
Her hands trembled, but her heart did not pound with dread. It quickened with something far more fragile. Hope.
Alora turned to Sunneva, her voice little more than a whisper. “You are here for my soul, aren’t you?”
The Goddess of Death smiled.
Together they returned to the mountain. The shadows guarding the entrance bowed low, granting her entry. Inside, the vast cavern echoed with their steps. Karag D?r did not rise to greet her, the spirit of the mountain long gone.
The deeper Alora walked, the colder it became. Sunneva’s pale light guided her like a ghost lantern.
At last, the darkness faded as they entered the cavern Rune had carved for her garden. Though the flowers and fruit bushes had withered, the Elder Tree still bloomed.
The vivid leaves stretched toward what little light slipped through the stone above. It endured, even in darkness. As she had.
She laid her palm to its bark, a broken laugh escaping. “Well,” she murmured, “how shall we do this? Dagger to the heart? Slicing of the veins? A quick beheading?”
Sunneva chuckled softly, silver frost trailing from her hair. “Your death need not be as painful as mine.”
Alora blinked at her. “How did you die?”
“By fire.”
She flinched. “I see.”
“But you, dear beauty,” Sunneva’s voice softened, “I thought perhaps your end should be as it began. With sleep.”
At her gesture, frost formed a coffin of stone and ice, soft and waiting. Taking a breath, Alora lay on it, and the earth itself cradled her grief.
She would fine Rune again, even if she had to crawl into the depths of the Abyss.
Her tears fell onto the glass, and where they touched, small white blossoms and vines bloomed.
“This is the death of your mortality,” Sunneva murmured, holding out the crimson spindle. Its sharp point glinted in the faint light. “And your ascension.”
Alora’s scarred fingertip throbbed as she reached out and pricked her finger.
Blood swelled and dripped to the ground.
The sound echoed in Alora’s ears as everything around her dulled. Light dimmed beneath her skin. Her chest cracked with it, golden light unraveling from her body as her life drift away.
Each breath she exhaled left her fainter, smaller, until her last breath left her lips as a note of song. It hummed through the cavern, echoing like a hymn, then faded into silence.
Her eyes fluttered closed. The last of her warmth slipped from her hands. And for a moment, weightless, she saw her soul, woven of pure starlight.
The Goddess of Death gently caught her and tenderly whispered, “Rest now, Alora. Your path lies beyond the Seven Gates.”