Nergalan had a hard time separating his eyelids. Even when he was able to do so, he couldn't see anything at first. For some time only some red blotches appeared in his vision. Then slowly, his vision cleared. He could see the face leaning on him, worried, expectant. At first he couldn't recognize the face, but as his mind cleared, he remembered him.

It was Melam, the master sorcerer; his friend and his fellow architect of the Kingdom of Anakra. But why did he look so worried?

As he tried to sit up, he felt dizzy. Melam caught him in his arms and supported him. "You are wounded, Nergalan! Let me treat you first." Melam said and started to peel off the remnants of the armour that still clung to his chest. They were stained with blood and, at places bits of burnt skin peeled off with them as well. Still, Nergalan didn't feel much pain as Melam had already treated his wounded chest with some clear liquid which had softened the burnt skin and also numbed his feelings of pain temporarily.

"It's a miracle that you are still alive," Melam said softly as he concentrated on healing and regenerating the mutilated tissue and mangled bones. His palms glowed softly, sending his healing energy into Nergalan's body and fusing it with his cells. Little by little, the wounds began to close.

Nergalan felt his energy returning again. He tried to focus his mind on his present condition. The battle was lost, then! The final battle between the Demons and the Seraphs! And, he, Nergalan, the last Demon Warrior failed to protect his people! What was the meaning of being alive anymore? Was he to surrender to the Seraphs and carry the mark of shame on his forehead for the rest of his life?

As he thought about this, a bitter smile formed at the corner of his lips. The Seraphs would not allow him to live anyway. Wouldn't it be better to end his life on his own, then? At least, it would save the remnants of his pride.

"Don't even think of it, Nergalan." Melam said in a low, warning voice.

Nergalan was shocked. How did he know what he had been pondering over all this time?

"Do you have a better solution, friend?" He asked bitterly.

Melam put away his bottles of medicine and other accessories. A small but bright fire burnt in front of the cave where they had taken shelter, radiating warmth and light. In its eerie red glow his face looked hard, determined.

"Nergalan," he said, "Do you know what weapon the Seraphs used against your force? It is a catalyst to Dark. It enhances the power of Dark to a level where it is no longer a regenerating power, but turns into a deadly tool of destruction. See what toll it has taken on your armour and your body!  You'll know yourself."

 Nergalan went through Melam's words in his mind. Yes, he was right. The Dark was a power which lulled everything into a slumber and regenerated them from inside. But the Seraphs have somehow found a way to corrupt it and turn it into a vicious weapon which has destroyed life all around him.

Melam had begun to speak again.

"These Gloams, they are archaic beasts which were banished from this world by our ancestors when they first conquered it and made it habitable. But the Seraphs' meddling with Dark has created holes in the barrier created by our forefathers. That's why these monsters have started to appear again. Everything has started to fall in ruins. The seas have risen and massive columns of thundercloud have gathered in the sky all over Anakra. It is only a matter of time before this world is destroyed. We must take our decisions fast."

"What can we do now?" Nergalan asked.

"You are the last Demon Warrior. You have the power to create new dimensions in time and space. A few of your followers are still alive. You can hide them among the Humans, if you want. But you have to sacrifice yourself then." Melam said in a soft, yet decisive voice.

"Yes, I can," Nergalan said. "But what will you do, then? Will you go with the surviving Demons, or will you choose to be here in Anakra?" He asked Melam.

Melam smiled in reply. "I guess I'll be here with these Humans. Anakra has turned into a barren, toxic land from this battle of yours. But these Humans have the blessing of Cereb technologies. If they can survive this catastrophe and if the Gloams can be kept away from here, I think Anakra will be fine in their hands in future."

He stood up. "I'm going now," he said. "Goodbye, friend! Maybe someday we'll meet again. So long!" He disappeared in a column of blue light which went up into the sky and vanished in an instant.

Nergalan stood up, too. As he looked around the cave, he found that seven of his followers were lying on the floor of the cave. They all looked like they were sleeping peacefully. A half-smile formed on his face. Melam had saved as many of them as he could. Now it was up to him to keep them alive.

He came out of the cave. A mountain ledge stretched from below his feet. The vast sky hung over him. It was starless, black as pitch.

He sat in lotus  position and closed his eyes. Darkness spun around him, encasing him in a cocoon, within which his body diffused into a swirling stream of tiny glowing particles. They spun and spun and sucked into them the entire mass of land around the mountain on which Nergalan had sat, with all forms of life in it. Slowly they transformed into a new world in blue and green, with the Humans and the surviving Demons merged into a single human race, sharing only a vague archetypal memory of the colossal battle between the Demons and the Seraphs and the technologies brought to them by the Seraphs.

Nergalan didn't lose his soul. His consciousness wrapped around the new dimension he created, separating it completely from the dimension to which the world of Anakra belonged. But Nergalan's will to protect Anakra didn't scatter away. It was lulled into a deep slumber within his consciousness.

It was Melam's voice that awakened it from its slumber. 

As time flowed its own way, Anakra had risen again from the ashes and the Elite Humans, the Cerebs, had rebuilt it with the help of the Seraphs. But as the wheel of time kept rotating, it had once again fallen into anarchy. It was then that Melam tried to invoke Nergalan's will to keep Anakra safe. Far into another dimension, his call stirred Nergalan's undying will.

All that it required was a vessel from this world that Nergalan had created; someone with Demon blood in them; someone with a strong desire to protect the weak.

Ethan's consciousness jerked in its current form which had been transformed into pure energy, capable of travelling through time and space. The time had arrived when his body was falling to death from the collapsed roof of the old mansion. As death stared at his face, he felt a surge of energy rushing through him. Nergalan's consciousness merged with him for a brief second, infusing him with his will and his power. Then his body was transformed into pure energy, capable of being migrated into another dimension where Anakra was.

**************************************************

Ethan opened his eyes. Melam was sitting by his side, his eager eyes fixed on his face.

"Nergalan? Are you alright now?" He asked.

"Call me Ethan, please." He tried to smile. "I may have inherited his will and his strength, but I'm still Ethan and I'll do anything to keep Anakra safe."

"Let's go then," said Melam. "Your friends are waiting for you."

"Have you been here in Saroha all this time?" Ethan asked Melam.

"Yes. The Sarohans and the Verniks were the only two Human tribes closest to the Demons in nature. The Sarohans knew how to live in harmony with nature while the Verniks could use the healing powers of nature. But the Cerebs wiped the Verniks out. I couldn't do anything to stop them." Melam shook his head sadly.

A familiar face resurfaced in Ethan's memory. But he didn't say anything. 'Yes, it was not possible for you to do anything without exposing yourself. Good thing that you didn't do anything rash!' He thought. 

  
The white pillar inside the cave of Saroha opened again and the two of them walked out of it.