Khalina island

It wasn’t long before news of the Rebirth Detroyer’s arrival had reached the ears of everyone on the island. They flocked to the elder’s hut, waiting curiously outside. Few of the island’s residents hadn’t heard of the prophecy that preceded Aiden’s birth.

On the tips of her toes, Amara struggled for a better view. Back on Gedroso, she was one of the tallest women in the desert; not so much on Khalina isle.

Resting back on her heels, Amara turned to one of the residents and asked, “Who’s all the fuss over?”

Arms folded, the woman leaned back and whispered, “From what I’ve been told, he’s the end of the world.”

"Really?" Amara said, the corners of her mouth curving up. "When's he leaving?"

On the outside, the hut appeared barely big enough for one. But a spacious interior awaited all of those invited in.

“I am Mishael. Won’t you have a seat?” offered the elder, extending her hand at a seating area. Situated in the center of the hut, a small table sat in a circular concrete depression. Vibrantly colored pillows surrounding it were the only seating.

“How did you know we were coming?” Aiden asked, taking a seat across from Mishael. Unlike the warm, stuffy air outside, the atmosphere inside Mishael’s hut was a sweet mix of jasmine and lemongrass.

“There’s not much that escapes me these days.”

“Including why I’m here?”

“Yes, child. You seek to change what has been written; written by my hands.”

“What?!” both Aiden and Jaff exclaimed.

“I must have been around your age when I received a vision of your birth and all that would unravel afterward. That was a long time ago.”

“But, that prophecy was written nearly a thousand years ago,” Jaff said.

“It is exactly nine-hundred and eighty-six years old, young man. I wrote what I saw, exactly how I saw it. But even I didn’t believe it. I hunted down the Rebirth of Life just so I would live long enough; see if it was true. And everything is happening as I saw it. Including the spread of damnation.”

“Damnation, it's here then?” Jaff asked.

“Yes, because of me. I created it when I was unconscious, Uncle Jaff. But that thing, it has a mind of its own.”

“A will of its own. Like all Rebirths, damnation requires a human host. It should have one by now, but yours, Aiden, is the one it really needs. You and damnation are destined to become one, strengthening the evil that’s spreading around the world as we sit.”

“There has to be a way to stop that from happening!” Jaff said.

“Young man, it has already begun. I wrote what I saw, passed it around so the right minds could take the appropriate action; no one did.”

Her words were tantamount to a knife in his heart. If Jaff hadn’t swept him off to Khalm, if someone had smothered his life before now, the future wouldn’t be so bleak. Was his mother to be the first of many lives he’d end?

Aiden’s hands wound into a tight fist. Damnation walked the earth because of an uncontrollable act. He needed to stay in control, of himself, of his emotions, of the Rebirths; maybe that would stave off Damnation.

With one hand on the table and a fist raised at the elder, Aiden leaned forward. "Okay, fine! I’m here now! There’s no going back! I’ve done everything that I was supposed to! But I will not be controlled by some evil rune that I created!"

Northern border between Midaharia and Ahrmania

Sun retreating behind their backs, Ahrman soldiers led by the king himself march to the Midaharian border. Ahead of them, rolling hills were lived with thousands of enemy soldiers. A clear path to the Midaharian capital expanded a few dozen yards over their shoulders.

“Is it just, Lahan?” Tasha asked Breuke.

“He’s the only general I see so far,” said Breuke, his eyes covered by a pair of field goggles.

“Lahan’s a rare sight on the field. Are you sure you want to be here?” Tasha asked the king.

“Where else would I be?” Keeping his longsword on his horse, the king walked his brown and white stallion down an incline. As darkness approached only the enemy’s steel weapons stood out.

Seated on his dark mount, Lahan met the king where their borders converged. “Turn back, King Lisador. We won’t allow you any further.”

“General, make this easier on all of us and hand over Taimoor. His head must roll for the massacre he authorized!”

Lahan narrowed his eyes. “I’m not going to warn you twice.”

“Have it your way.”

The king mounted his horse and turned back. A volley of arrows whistled through the air, quickly descending on the Midaharian soldiers. In an instant, a solid curtain of ice curved upward, deflecting the assault.

“Go home Ahrman!” Lahan boasted.

“Not without Taimoor’s head!” yelled the king. He flung his wrist at Breuke.

Cracks spidered across Lahan’s frozen barrier. Soon the sound of shattering ice crackled in the air. With the power of his rune, Lahan brought the falling chunks to a stop and quickly redirected them to the Ahrman.

Ice was merely frozen water, making it easy for Breuke to control as it spiraled around him in its liquid form.

"To Hell with them all!” shouted Lisador, leading the charge.

Lahan thrusted his sword into the air. “For the emperor!”

He jumped off his mount and marched toward the advancing king. As much as he disagreed with the emperor’s unprovoked attack on Haggard, Lahan’s dislike for the Ahrman Empire was stronger. Both kingdoms had clashed in the past throughout their long, twisted tango for territorial domination.

But much of the defeats fell on the Midiharian side. The present emperor vowed to never lose again.

A thick layer of ice served as extra protection on Lahan’s arm, keeping a strike from the emperor’s long sword at bay. He quickly dismissed it to avoid giving the water rune bearer any unwanted ammunition.

Lahan stepped forward and kicked the king off his feet. As he drew his blade down, another crossed its path and deflected his killing blow.

“You’re going to get yourself killed!” Tasha said, stepping between the two.

“I trust my royal guard wouldn’t let that happen,” said the king.

“Get back! We can handle this!”

Keeping her shield up, Tasha rushed toward Lahan with her weapon drawn. Her boots suddenly lost traction on the ground, causing her to stumble onto an icy surface.

“I don’t fight women!” Lahan said, kicking her down a slippery slope.

“Looks like it’s just you and me then,” Breuke said, challenging the general with his polearm.

Breuke’s weapon slid across Lahan’s icy chest. The Midaharian snagged it under his arm. Using the polearm as leverage, Breuke jumped up and clipped Lahan’s chin with his steel boots. He swiftly followed up with a splash of water. It was instantly frozen before reaching its target but distracted the general long enough for another attack. Without a second to spare, Lahan blocked the royal guard’s strike with a shield of ice.

“Doesn’t fight women!” Tasha muttered as she collected herself. “I’ll crack him over his bald, chauvinist skull!”

A wave of cold cut through her armor, raising fine hairs on her neck. Noises in the field sounded without any wind. Dead energy illuminated her sword and she spun around. She could see for yards. There was no one around.

“Not like me to be so jumpy,” Tasha said, letting a breath escape her lungs.

Observing the battlefield from a safe distance, the Ahrman king sat, sidelined, on his steed. Sounds of steel against steel filled the thick, early evening air. As the soldiers clashed on either side of their borders, neither was giving an inch. It was like a good game of Verglas, where no one wanted to lose, but someone had to.

One way or another.

King Lisador III remained attentive to the battlefield and oblivious to the gradual sound of metal sliding against leather.