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“It’s getting late, we should hurry home.”

“Right. Thanks for the dinner, Syrias.”

“No problem, man. You too, Chaalith.”

While we were exchanging our goodbyes for tonight, Syrias was sawing off Torne and myself at his house’s entrance. The two of us gathered our belongings we had left on the shelves, my purse and other miscellaneous personal items, before setting off for our own lodging.

I did spend some time helping with cleaning and rinsing everything to reduce Narufi’s burden as much as possible, but I somehow couldn’t bring myself to voice out my pleas to her anymore, maybe out of habit, maybe out of compassion. I didn’t know what stopped me from trying again, for I knew which words to employ to make her leave the city, and also possessed the strength and ability to push my wish onto her.

Mortals appear in your life like a buzzling flash, some are annoying and involuntarily ask to be crushed, while others are radiant or soothing, however both are ephemeral and disappear just as fast as they came. I couldn’t recount how many small souls I have nurtured out of sympathy because I knew they wouldn’t achieve the most basic things in life without my assistance. They couldn’t fight. They couldn’t cook. They couldn’t even think if I didn’t teach them how to view the world. There was of course a select few who managed to stand up by themselves, but I spotted no such individual in this era unfortunately.

Narufi was different. Superficially, slightly, but still a tiny bit different from my usual entourage.

She wasn’t a high noble whose negligence almost cost her fief and title. She wasn’t a saint whose weak faith made her succumb to degeneracy. She wasn’t a crusader whose strength lacked willpower. Also, she wasn’t the first commoner I willingly took care of; there were many more mortals with no valuable background or filling an important role in this world who I guided through many casual hardships. Narufi only happened to be the next one I chose to endorse.

A yume coming from a tribe spiralling to its end, born from a form of civilisation too old to adapt with the dominant society with its obsolete concepts and a slaking determination to uphold the ancient traditions of spiritualism. Those Rules, too strict and severe, were slowly forgotten by the newer generations, sighing days after days whenever they were reminisced of the threat which had befallen on the world millennia ago, now celebrated as the Three Days’ Festival in a last attempt to remind everyone of how the world almost collapsed.

She arrived in this city with the company of her brother Nilie, both looking in different direction but sharing the same goal of invigorating their tribe through any mean. The brother appealed with his strength and departed with mercenaries, but due to the ever-lasting peace brought by the still-not-forgotten Black War they switched business to unlawful bandits. As for the sister, she looked for a way to better up her tribe’s know-how about the spirits, and that is how she met Syrias. Call her a manipulative seducer, but she was now living a joyful life with her husband and will soon give birth to a child. This may be what you label as a ‘happy ending’, where everyone obtained the object of their desire and all issues were resolved. I guess this is what all living being wished for: perennation, the wish that everything will stay the same.

…

She said she had faith in the spirits. She had faith in those fictional characters made up by people afflicted by despair and dereliction to look up for an excuse in this unbalanced world, in those baseless entities who were stranded in History, who were consciously walking on a path that would never end.

She said she had faith in the spirits, which meant she had faith in Haliaetus and everyone else, including me. Of course she doesn’t know I am one, but still…

… What was I supposed to think, here?

In the end, I couldn’t manage to convince Narufi to leave Lagida. I thought she longed to return to her tribe, but it seemed her new life was enough to satisfy her now. Thinking again about this, I let a sigh escape me, trying to clear my mind from this foul feeling of disappointment.

“I don’t hear you sighing often, Chaalith.”

After leaving our friends’ house, Torne took upon himself the duty of accompanying me until I reached my home, hiding behind the excuse that a lady shouldn’t walk alone in the city at night.

“That’s because a lot has been piling up on my shoulders recently.”

I nonchalantly replied while using my fingers to rearrange my hair. Torne didn’t seem to mind the cold answer, perhaps preoccupying himself with his gallant mindset of escorting me through the dark of the night.

“Is it about this protector-thing you were talking about earlier?”

“Of course it is, he… Nevermind, forget about it.”

This was a subject which didn’t concern the mortals. The plan was already set in motion, and it was now too late to step back from this thorny road. All the preparations were ready, now all that mattered was for the Fallen to make a misstep and tumble in our trap. It sounded so easy when spelled with so few words…

“No, I do mind.”

I was taken aback by Torne’s sudden words, not because he worried for me, but because…

“If there is anything I can do, even just listening to you, then I would gladly help you, you know?”

“… This is coming from the man who constantly joke about everything.”

“I… I’m sorry for all the jokes I made, but this time I’m serious.”

“Which makes me even more suspicious.”

It seemed like I caught Torne off guard as he struggled to come up with a better retort. Honestly, just sticking around with a few mortals was enough for me. I didn’t want to complicate things any more than this, and just wanted to be done with the issue concerning the Fallen. I also had to think about the aftermath, about how many people I will have to heal and comfort until everything was over.

“Then what do you think this Protector will do now?”

The inquiry made me hesitate if I should answer or not, however, I somehow believed that I should, both for clarifying the situation and to get him to get a hint.

“The story is well-known and short: everytime the world is in danger, he awakes to protect us. For him to be present in Lagida is definitely a bad omen for the populace living here.”

“How does he know about that? The whole ‘world in danger’ I mean. Can he… See the future?”

Again with his bad habit of joking about everything. It should have been written in stone eons ago that nobody could observe the future, only barely anticipate its outcomes. But how should I respond to his question? I couldn’t possibly just tell him how the entire machination functioned in the background…

“… I guess this is destiny.”

“Destiny, uh… Such a sweet word.”

“Try to picture this.” I started to explain with more details to Torne my view on the debacle, “A myriad of possibilities, of actors and decisions and causes and consequences, all tangled in a mess of a timeline where there is an obvious beginning and end, yet it is seemingly impossible to tell how the two are connected.

We are only a dot on this confusing line, lost in this pell-mell of a drama. And we cannot even comprehend how we got so far.

That is why we record History, so we let the next generation figure out how to handle themselves thanks to our past successes and mistakes. And also to gift them the resources to perhaps achieve a better understanding of this all. Yet, after everything we’ve done, we’ve only made so much progress…

However, someone –or something- is still able to predict what will happen next, despite all the odds and randomness of life. Nobody else but destiny can foretell those events with such accuracy.”

“… Wow, I… I’ve never put that much effort to think about this…”

“I try to value as much as possible the signification of each and every word.”

Figuring I was babbling too much on a subject my interlocutor wasn’t used to, I attempted to put an end to this conversation.

“Sorry, I guess you could say this is my own bad habit of taking on the lead.”

“Oh no, I don’t mind. This was interesting. It leaves a lot to think about.”

Does it? Maybe.

While we were talking, my steps stopped in front of a door; it was the entrance to my own house.

“Thank you for accompanying me, Torne. Have a good night.”

“Wait, Chaalith!”

Torne suddenly interrupted me as I was about to open the door. Curious as to what he still had to say, I still reluctantly turned to face him. I could immediately tell from his body’s movements that he was nervous, and he most probably also was quite conscious about that fact which he tried to hide behind a faked composure.

He took a rapid breath before going in.

“You’re truly… A remarkable woman. You’re both intelligent and beautiful, and I really admire this side of you.”

For a nervous young human, he actually could spout quite the bold line. Along his words coming out from his throat, he began to take a few steps to reduce the distance separating us until he stood before me.

As an immortal, I was bound to experience many events through my eternal life. Joy, regret, stress, relief, peacefulness, sadness. But amongst all those quirks gifted to us by the world, it was my first time being pinned against a wall by a boy’s sudden act. His arm grazed my shoulder, and he drew himself so close I could see his eyes trembling under his contained desire. I could feel his breath warming me, tickling me with a spicy taste from our previous dinner which slightly nettled me. My sole consolation was reminding myself I also carried this spiciness on my tongue, and the unwavering gaze from Torne whose eyes were locked in mine.

“Everytime I meet you, I can’t help but think you’re marvellous… I know you’re a strong woman, but maybe…”

He gently slipped his fingers in my hair, softly brushing against my ear until his hand could seize the back of my head.

“… Maybe, for tonight we…”

I saw his face drawing closer to mine, enticing me with his half-closed eyes and lips. I placed my hand on this torso to push him away.

“Do you know what you’re doing?”

I whispered to Torne, seeking a sentiment of remorse or hesitation in his eyes. Alas, I couldn’t muster the strength to repel him. In fact, this little act of rebellion of mine only seemed to encourage him to come closer.

“I know…”

I don’t remember hearing the end of his sentence, as I suddenly found ourselves kissing each other on my house’s threshold. Indeed, I could clearly taste the lingering spice on the tip of his mouth, even more once our tongue embraced each other.

After a short moment, I finally gathered enough strength in my arm to press my hand against his body, putting an end to this passionate form of communication.

He may have realized how everything unfolded, because I noted a smile and a little giggle coming from him as he took a few step back, blushing like a drunk man after a long service. Torne tried to whisper some words at me, but he seemed to fail in finding the fitting words in this scene. Instead, he went with the familiar way of doing things.

“Good night, Chaalith.”

I had to wait a few seconds to answer until my voice came back to me.

“Good night… Torne.”

My eyes were still locked on the mortal leaving the place, his silhouette fading away in the darkness on the night, only to become a blur under the dim streetlight. Once his shape disappeared from my sight, I finally decided to reoccupy the comfy place known as my bedroom.

Once safe inside, I closed the door behind me and leaned against the door, questioning myself about my own behaviour with Torne. I couldn’t understand why I was trying to seduce him, or even why this man would attempt to approach me in this way.

Still dizzy from the recent event, I decided to think about it later and sorted my affairs on the shelves next to me, the furniture looking back at me with its colourless eyes and scrawny carapace.

Out of instinct, I summoned a blade of shining light to slash at the beast, easily and instantly slicing him in half before casting a dozen of glimmering protections surrounding me. But once I looked at the red muddy floor I was stepping on, I knew where I was.

“Welcome back, Chaalith. I hope you enjoyed your stay in the real world.”

A figure I have never saw sitting, tired, eating, drowsy or just moving, was standing a couple of meters away from me.

“Eendis.”

Standing before me was an entity way beyond what we cianalas hoped to attain in one’s eternal life of effort, a living mass of pure energy overwhelming our conceptualisation of realism, basically overriding any acute senses we could heighten in order to deceive our fear of the unknown.  In front of the Black God, the one responsible for all those massacres during the Black War and the artisan of the Limbo, I kneeled.

“My apologies for my sudden act of aggression, but may I know the reason of my sudden summoning?”

“It’s fine, it’s fine. He was only one from many more. An easily replaceable piece on the chessboard, unlike you who is unique in this world.”

“I am honoured to hear this.”

I heard multiple loud screeching behind me. I could easily tell the other demons were already feasting on the cadaver of their own kin. Despicable minions devoid of any sort of will and conscious, merely breathing and walking thanks to the atrocious engineering made up by the Black God.

“As for the reason I summoned you, it’s because I found myself forced to add a few changes in your plan to defeat Haliaetus.”

“Changes? What do you mean?”

“I know you spent many centuries looking for a weapon that could strike down the most powerful dalenh, or a method to at least weaken him enough so you could land a critical hit on his body.”

He was right, unfortunately it wasn’t that easy to kill a dalenh, let alone a cianala. First, our spiritual and physical bodies were reinforced thanks to multiple layers of ever-lasting benedictions, granting us herculean power, mythical aptitudes and literal immortality. Killing one of our kind would be similar to attempt obliterating a boulder made of a metal which never deteriorate, never melt and keeps reshaping itself to its original form. In other words: realistically impossible.

But again, all of this was possible thanks to those benedictions. Without them, we would be no different from the mortals. Then the idea was simple: we needed to get rid of Haliaetus’s benedictions. Alas, there were no known techniques to achieve this. Until the day my irritating accomplice told me he found a way, stored somewhere in Lagida. It was already long ago, but I still couldn’t find a trace of such a capable weaponry. He told me to be patient, so I waited, years after years, until a couple of decades went by under my nose, leaving me with a feeling of betrayal and frustration.

“And I also know about your ludicrous partnership, so let me update you about everything that happened so far.

First, Haliaetus has awoken, and he is in this city.”

“Yes, I have heard about this news.”

“Oh really? Then did you know his awakening was forced by little rats, and he recovered his memory thanks to the sympathy of an idiot?”

I was left speechless. The Fallen recovered from his amnesia? But why? Why would they do that? Why would they remove the leash they had put themselves on him? Without this maddening collar, he…

“As for the bait your colleague used to lure him, I can bet you’ve already figured out who it is. The only soul in this world he would willingly sacrifice himself for.”

Qalendra was the first to appear in my mind. Who else could have bewitched the Fallen’s heart?

I suddenly realized. Haliaetus was in Lagida, freed from this jerk’s grasp, and so close to his betrothed.

It was already too late to stop him.

… Or maybe not?

“The hero! Where is the hero? If Haliaetus is the next calamity, then the world must have chosen a hero to stop him!”

“… The hero can’t save us. The world has chosen poorly.”

Eendis’s input on this part was… Aggravating. It was the first time this situation happened. I tried to reassess everything I knew, recollecting every tiny bits of information which could help us solving this issue.

Why would the world make a bad decision about the hero? How could it make a bad decision? Were the mortals that untrustworthy? What happened in-between, for them to change from their valiant self when battling against the demons by my side to become such frail cowards who trembled at the idea of saving the world? It was like they stopped believing in their own value, it was like they were blinded by their own impotency.

Why? Why would they forget about their courage? Just why… Did our teachings faded away that much from their morale?

“And there is also one last thing you should know.”

I prepared myself for the worst, ready to learn about the cause which will put our world in grave danger.

“I’m afraid Qalendra doesn’t have much time left before she passes away.”