"Fate is a river. It pushes one toward a chosen path…and yet the river is shallow. A gift from God that grants his children the ability to stand and eventually walk against the current."

Azrath remembered the words that man spoke on the night of Noel's battle.

As Noren scurried through the portal to stand watch over an unconscious Noel, Darris carried Azrath through the door beside his throne, which, when open, flooded his nose with a wonderfully familiar smell. The door led to a wide corridor made narrow by countless stacks of books that lined the walls. Azrath couldn't help himself. He breathed deep at the smell of paper and ink.

"It's wonderful, isn't it?" said Darris, "the smell of a thousand ideas recorded and bound."

As he walked past, Darris reached out with his free hand to brush the spines as delicately as if stroking a child. Azrath also longed to feel them.

"I keep them well maintained. I carefully rotate and clean them, so they have the opportunity to air out. I even do my own repairs. Some of these tomes are far older than I."

"Have you read them all?" asked Azrath in awe.

"Many a time. It's how I occupy myself in this dead world. Oriander is kind enough to bring me more contemporary material so that I may stay up to date on my language studies."

Azrath's eyes wandered back to the stacks. They were books of every shape and size, old and new, in countless languages he couldn't read. Though he could recognize the type of some books by their covers. There were history books, language books, encyclopedias, novels, almanacs, and—one book in particular caught his attention. It was a little book sitting atop one of the stacks. The cover was of a man and woman embracing, and though the couple's arms censored their chests, it was clear both were nude.

"What in Urzuran's name is that indecency?" shrieked Azrath, covering his eyes with one wing and pointing at the offensive material with the other.

"It's not indecent! Don't let the cover fool you. It's a tragic story of forbidden love!" said Darris.

Azrath gave him a look. "What?"

"Er, I mean…I only read it out of obligation since Oriander took the time to bring it to me and all," said Darris, his cheeks glowing blue.

Azrath kept staring.

"Don't judge me, you numpty! I'm sure you've had your share of guilty pleasures."

Azrath said nothing, but he broke his eye contact. He faced forward and let Darris stew in the silence.

"I'll squash you where you stand," said Darris. His other hand hovered over Azrath threateningly. But Azrath wasn't fooled. He felt Darris's stride quicken, which gave away Darris's real intention of shielding Azrath's gaze from any more potentially embarrassing covers.

At last, Darris turned to face a door, opened it, and entered. This, too, was quite spacious, though a large number of bookshelves took up most of the space. All were stuffed. It was claustrophobic.

Azrath looked around at the sheer number of books. "You've read these too?"

"Indeed. These are special."

 "You mean more smut," said Azrath with a smirk.

"I told you it's not—! Whatever, think what you like. I don't care."

It sounded like he did.

"If you must know, bird. These happen to be my favorites. I cannot count how many times I've read them."

Azrath couldn't read these titles either, but they were worn; well-read.

Darris sat in a giant velvet chair that fit him comfortably. He lowered the hand that held Azrath to a short table and jerked it so that Azrath rolled off.

Azrath struggled to his feet and looked up at Darris, who was holding out the two fragments of Urzran's sword, both of which glowed faintly with the blue light of Eingh.

"Anyhow, I wish to know everything you can about these. And don't try to hide anything. I'll throttle every last piece of information out of you. And you know I will, so might as well make it easier on both of us and be honest."

Azrath swallowed. Darris was right. The faster he was honest, the faster they would return to Noel. So, he took a deep breath and told Darris everything. How his father made the sword under mysterious circumstances. How Urzuran left the sword to be guarded after his sacrifice. The centuries of isolation, his frequent visits to the gods at the peace conference, and his spying on Sohaud.

Darris listened intently, nodding at certain details and making a sour face at the mention of the other gods. When Azrath got to the part about cracks in the barrier between worlds, Darris held up a hand.

"Wait, there are flaws in the wall? And that's how you slipped through?"

"That's right. Though not much can. The physicality of an object doesn't matter. If someone wanted, they could fit a whole building in a crack. The problem is that the wall is made of Eingh, so only a certain amount of Eingh can fit through."

"Ah, I see!" said Darris with an excited smile, "Hence why you broke this sword into fragments!"

"Yes. Eight pieces. That seemed to be the right amount. I wanted to break it into as few as possible."

"Quite. And of yourself? This form you've taken. Did you do this to suppress your Eingh?"

"No. I didn't do this. It just happened. I don't know why. Maybe it's because of the rules of Earth? The same thing happened to the blade fragments. I didn't turn them into that."

Darris glanced at the pieces he had placed beside Azrath on the table sometime during Azrath's story. "Curious, most curious. And the girl? What of her?"

Azrath explained his meeting with Noel—though he left out her name—and his failed attempt to access the Eingh within.

Darris was frowning, "So, if I asked you to activate these pieces…?"

"I would be blocked."

Darris raised an eyebrow. "Show me."

Without a word, Azrath obeyed. He placed a talon on the pen and tried to channel his Eingh through it. Normally, the Eingh in the sword would have reached back to form a connection like a circuit so that the flow would become one. But he was only met with an invisible wall similar to the wall that divided the worlds. And there were no cracks he could find.

As expected, as soon as his Eingh hit that barrier, it was reflected back into Azrath, filling him with a sensation similar to swallowing something too big for his throat, only all over his body. Azrath staggered back, making retching noises as he tried to repress his Eingh.

Darris leaned forward and picked up the pieces. His eyes narrowed as he scrutinized every inch of the two objects. "Nothing." Then he sighed. "So then, the girl is the only one who can activate these."

"Yes," Azrath choked.

"What a shame. And I suppose you don't know why?"

"No. No clue. This is beyond my understanding."

"I see." Darris looked genuinely sad.

"I don't get it," said Azrath as he regained his composure. "You almost killed the girl, yet here you are about to cry over not freeing her. Why?"

Azrath expected Darris to get angry or defensive again, but he did not. Instead, he carefully laid the pieces back on the table and scratched his chin. It took him several seconds to answer. Eventually, he said, "How to explain? I suppose the answer lies in the hypocrisy of humanity. What we want and what is right don't often intersect."

"Only if you're an awful person."

Darris smirked, "And people often lie to themselves to deny the truth. Humans wish to be in control of their own lives. And there is nothing wrong with that."

"Of course, there is. Control is just an illusion. Those who accept their lack of control lead happier lives."

"Perhaps, little one. But are those people satisfied with what they have? Or are they repressing their regret for the choices they could have made? Does a lumber worker not sometimes wonder if he'd be better suited as a librarian? Oh, that he only made the correct choice in his youth! Maybe then he'd be more satisfied with life."

"But there's nothing he can do except to accept the path his life has taken."

"That's true," said Darris, leaning back in his chair. "But only if he is sure he made a choice in the first place. Then he may live without regret."

"That's only may. This theoretical lumber worker has to accept his lot either way. There's no point in regretting the past—"

"—which is why I want to give the girl a chance at a proper future," said Darris.

"A future that you control!" said Azrath as he flapped his wings. Though they were still soaking wet from the bay, so he didn't gain much lift.

"No." Darris leaned forward to look Azrath dead in the eyes. "I want to give her a future that she controls. No matter what it takes. Even if I must become a barrier for her to break. She is her own master. That is a gift from the divine! Whether good or evil, the ability to choose is what is most precious. It proves we are human. And once we realize that we are as God intends, autonomous, free-thinking, and willful."

"How can you think that?!" said Azrath, "How can you believe in your god and choose to defy him?"

"Because my God allows the world to be. He isn't there to meddle in every aspect of our thinking like your Urzuran. He gives us the path to righteousness and allows us to choose. I choose to improve myself. To become the pinnacle of myself. And of others. You may see that as arrogant, but I defy the will of fate at every turn. There will be no one who makes a choice for me. I will exercise my agency to the fullest. Even if I must kill to do it. That is the ultimate form of morality."

Darris's hands tightened on the arms of his chair. Azrath wished he had his old body back just so he could punch Darris in the Sahing face! "So, the reason you want to free Noe—I mean, the girl, is because you reject that she was placed there by fate?!"

"It's not the only reason," said Darris with a shrug, "But I'll admit, it is one. Fate exists to be defied. It is an obstacle placed by God as a challenge. Fate is a river. It pushes one toward a chosen path…and yet the river is shallow. A gift from God that grants his children the ability to stand and eventually walk against the current. That girl deserves to walk. And I will give her the strength to do so. And if she chooses not, then I will grant her a merciful death."

Azrath could only stare at Darris. At the man who thought so highly of himself that he believed that his God would be happy for him to do evil just because he chose to do it. There was no helping him.

Darris sat straight and looked around his study. "Well, if that's all you have to say then, I suppose I should start my work. If only I could find… Ah! Here we are!" He leaned to his left, rising a little to extend his reach as he rummaged around one of the shelves. When he came back, he had a giant notebook and a charcoal pencil three times Azrath's length.

"What are you going to do with those?" asked Azrath.

"I'm getting valuable data." Darris picked up the pen and held it up to his eyes. Then he glanced down at Azrath. "Oh, yes… Feel free to occupy yourself with a tome or two if you find one you can read. It may be a while."

Darris proceeded to sketch, murmuring to himself with small, excited chuckles.

Azrath watched Darris worriedly. Nothing he was doing could be a good thing.

Oh, Noel…What have I gotten you into?

***

Noel seemed to whither beneath Azrath's stare. She was tense in her chair as his mind raced.

"Darris," he said at last, "You met him, didn't you?"

The girl's eyes shifted as if searching for help, but then she sighed and rested her arms on her knees. "Yeah. He spoke with me at school."

Azrath tried to think of what to say next. Some way to reprimand the girl for even entertaining anything that lunatic had to say, but nothing came except, "Tell me what he said."

She met his eyes. "Seriously?"

"Yes. I want to know what he told you."

Noel hesitated a moment, then nodded. Then she explained what Darris had told her on her school's rooftop. Azrath listened patiently until the girl was done, after which Noel pulled three objects from her pocket: the two pieces and a card with the face of the dead man they encountered that night.

"So, you have the pieces, after all. Thank you, Noel, for being honest with me." He hoped that was true. "I'm not going to lie. What Darris told you sounds appealing. It's tempting to think that we can control the world around us, but that line of thinking only brings misery. Choice for the sake of it corrupts the mind and leads to an endless pursuit of control. But it's never enough."

"How do I know then?" asked Noel, her eyes fixed on the plastic card. "How do I know where the line is?"

"That's something only the divine can answer. Fate exists beyond even the gods, but they understand it far better than we do. They can see farther down the stream than anyone else. Trust in them."

"I can't do that." Noel looked back at Azrath, "I just can't."

Azrath's heart went out to her. She was far past overwhelmed. And arguing about world views didn't help settle her turmoil. "I understand, Noel. Just know that Darris only views you as an empty vessel that he can fill with his twisted ideas."

"But what if he's right?"

"No, Noel. He's not. I've seen the path his ideals lead to firsthand. It's a lonely path where other people are nothing more than obstacles that block ambition." Azrath paused, "I trod that path myself once."

Noel stared. Curiosity burned in her eyes.

Azrath swallowed. The time had come to tell her his final secret. His most shameful secret.

He swallowed again and tried to speak, but all that came out was a quiet moan. It took a few more swallows before he could manage speech. "I…lied to you, Noel."

The girl didn't react at all. It was like she expected it.

Azrath continued, "When I said I was called to protect the sword with my father, that wasn't true." He wanted to look away from her piercing blue eyes to avoid the feeling of his own shame that seemed to shoot from them like a thousand arrows.

But he maintained eye contact. He needed to look at her. This was only a fragment of his atonement; if he couldn't bear this, then he did not deserve to remain at Noel's side. "Actually, Urzuran called me to the opposite: to go with my newly wedded wife and live in peace in another world. But I couldn't do that.

"It all happened so fast. The day I returned from the war was the same as my wedding. And the same day as Urzuran's sacrifice. I was at a loss, Noel. After fighting that pointless war, I felt useless. Urzuran was abandoning us, abandoning me. To go to a place I could not follow. What was I going to do without the God I'd relied on all my life?"

Where before, Azrath had difficulty speaking. Now the words spilled from him like a flood from a broken dam. "So, after learning of my father's mission, I made a choice. I would also stay behind with the sword and protect the last remnants of my master. It would become my duty. But it was not a noble choice, Noel. It was entirely selfish. And I think I knew it even then as I kept my decision from Emué."

Just saying her name made Azrath feel like his heart would split in two, "I know I was selfish, but I didn't tell her or my father. But Emué figured it out minutes before His sacrifice; perhaps it was by the will of Urzuran.

"I thought she'd be angry that I wanted to defy what Urzuran told us at our wedding. But Emué—I think she knew what I was feeling­—she just accepted it and chose to stay with me forever on Eziro.

"I couldn't accept that," said Azrath as the tears began to fill his eyes, "I felt unworthy of her love. She had waited for me to return. She wasted years of her life hoping that I'd come back. But I never really did. Her Azrath never came home. I knew she deserved better than me. There were others who could make her far happier. I told her as such, but she wouldn't listen, that stubborn woman!" The tears flowed freely.

Even Noel's eyes shone with wetness.

"I suppose I was the one who wouldn't listen, as I…." Azrath took a deep, shuddering breath, "Noel, I made the stupidest decision of my life. One moment was all it took—one last moment of selfishness."

"What did you do?"

"I pushed her, Noel. I used my Eingh to push her out of Eziron only seconds before the worlds were sealed."

Noel covered her mouth as she gasped. "You made her disappear?!"

"I pushed her to another world. I don't know where—I didn't think I just wanted her gone!" His voice broke. "That's another lie. But I couldn't bear the thought of her sacrificing everything for me. Who knows what happened to her? Maybe she landed in a world without a portal. Maybe she did and is forever bound to that world. I cast her to doom in an uninhabitable world for all I know. I can only hope she's safe and happy wherever she is, having forgotten her fool of a husband."

Azrath fell silent as he let his grief wash over him. Yet there was an odd sense of relief. This was the first time he had told anyone this story in its entirety. His father had figured it out soon enough but rarely mentioned it.

But now that someone knew the full truth, it was like a weight had been lightened. He could feel the Everflow wash over him like it hadn't in centuries. He raised his wings to the heavens as the tears continued to fall.

Praise be to Urzuran! You have truly blessed your most lowly of servants!

***

Noel wasn't sure how to feel about Azrath's story. It was certainly sad, and she couldn't imagine holding that kind of pain for such a long time. At the very least, Noel was beginning to understand Azrath, just as she was beginning to understand Darris since their rooftop conversation. 

She watched as Azrath looked upwards and spread his wings as if stretching. His eyes raised as if he stared into heaven. Not sure what he was doing, Noel followed his gaze. 

Then she blinked, and suddenly a man filled her vision. He was tall, closer to Darris's height than hers, and clothed in white robes that fell loosely over his muscular body and flared out behind him.

Her cramped room did not seem to matter to the man as he stood tall without thought of the walls or ceiling. She could not see his face as a fluffy beard—grey as iron—hid his chin. The man's large, worn hands were open, palms up as if they were receiving something she couldn't see. 

She sat in awe of the figure that seemed to fill every corner of her room. Her mouth fell open as she realized that what she had thought was part of the man's robes was, in reality, a pair of feathery wings that spread beyond her periphery. 

Noel was staring at an angel. This realization filled her with a fear unlike anything she had felt before in her life. 

Then the angel looked downward, clasping his hands in prayer. His long, grey hair fell around his head in curtains, face lined with age. And she looked into his brown eyes veiled by eyebrows as fluffy as his beard. Those eyes were familiar and yet not. She knew this angel.

"A-Azrath?"

"What's wrong, Noel?"

She blinked, and the angel was gone. Her eyes darted, trying to find some trace of his existence. Until her eyes fell on Azrath; small, round Azrath still standing on her bed. He looked up at her with concern. His tiny wings were open and fluttered slightly.

What in the—

"I just saw—I—you were…." She lifted a hand above her head to indicate height, "and then—" She flapped her arms by her sides.

Azrath stared at her, confused, "You're not making any sense."

Noel shook her head, "I-I saw you. You weren't a puffball."

"I what?"

As Azrath looked at her, Noel could picture the face of the angel hidden behind the fur.

Noel fell from her chair to her knees. "I think I saw you in your original form."

Azrath staggered back. "But what does that mean? I didn't change at all. Not physically, at least. Unless…" He paused, "unless you saw me as I truly was."

"Does that mean anything?" asked Noel.

"I don't know," said Azrath. "Perhaps our Eingh connected for a moment? Mysterious things can happen when people come to an understanding."

"An understanding, huh?"

Despite their differences, Noel realized that Azrath was on her side. He only wanted what was best for her, even if it was by fixing his own mistakes.

"Alright," she said as she stood, "Let's find a better place for you to teach me Dynamic Drift."

"Agreed," said Azrath, "This room's a bit too small if you want to use it properly."

She didn't know if she could ever agree with his perspective, but it was clear that Azrath was willing to be by her side on whatever path she was on.

They would travel this dark road together.