The world was dying. God did nothing.
A week had passed since the magi’s failure to stop Vargus and Iblis, and Sera witnessed the consequences of their failure.
The monsters of The Forbidden Lands encroaching on Hydor, obliterating land well nourished and once bountiful in life.
The castle of Hydor, lightning from Iblis incinerating some survivors who thought that they had found safety—or perhaps delirium—in that fortress.
Towns like Reatha and Forenzia, either turning into riots of fear or becoming deserted.
Sera also saw reasons for hope, sure. From afar, she saw Tritoch. She could sense, also from afar, that Faye lived somewhere to the west, far away from any nearby civilization.
But all of that felt so temporary, so fleeting. Tritoch killed some enemies, but they would return with reinforcements. If Faye found civilization, would it look more like the civilizations of the Ancient Ruins? Or of towns like Nibel and Idra?
Nothing would seem permanent until the gods put an end to their warfare in this realm. And with Iblis possessing his three red crystals, a yellow, and a blue crystal—and who knew where the remaining crystals went—humanity and magi had little in the way of weapons.
And the only one who could counter Iblis, Ostus, had not spoken to her since her failure.
So be it.
It was a world without Ostus. Had he not always said that he would return if Iblis’ physical form returned to Hydor? Sera felt quite certain she had seen the flesh of that demon.
She shivered and grabbed her hair and tensed. It somehow made things worse that Iblis had not said a word to her since the immediate aftermath of her displacement.
Of course.
Break her, then leave her to passively watch the world die, knowing that she could never put herself back together.
Sure, she occasionally heard voices in her head of those who had gone to the spiritual realm, under the watch of Ostus. But they didn’t know. They didn’t understand the horror of realizing everything in your life caused chaos, a natural outcome of being born the daughter of Iblis.
Only one thing gave her a modicum of curiosity. Not hope. That was nowhere near coming.
It was—
The world around her turned a bright white. Sera sighed. Now he wanted to talk to her?
Perhaps he took offense to her thinking that he was doing nothing.
Moments later, Sera found herself surrounded by bright white light. Ahead of her, two blue eyes appeared with nothing around them. She folded her arms, not especially pleased to see him.
“Iblis told you the truth,” Ostus said.
“I’m glad someone did,” Sera said. “I would have thought after saving the world four hundred years ago, you would tell me. I could then process my grief in a world of peace.”
A long, unsettling silence came. With only the eyes visible, Sera could never read Ostus’ expression, and when his full body became visible, it did not seem like he had expressions as humans did.
“I gave you the freedom to find out the truth yourself. It has been my greatest gift—”
“Has it?” Sera said, her voice rising. “You knew I always assumed I was made in your image, Ostus. The compassionate thing would not have been to let me live a lie, but to correct me. There is no point where I would have handled this news well, but to let Iblis do it? That does not speak to a gift or freedom. That speaks to ignorance and passivity.”
“Choose your words carefully, Sera.”
Though Ostus’ facial expressions were never to be understood, his tone was always understandable. Sera often relied on it more than his ambiguous words. Speaking in vague language… well, what was once seen as wisdom not understood by mortals now took on a brand new, infuriating meaning.
“I have chosen them carefully for centuries, Ostus,” she said. “All that I have done has brought us to this point. I know I have flaws. But if there is to be any sense of hope, any reason to change this world, you must step in.”
“I would—”
“Not?” Sera asked coldly.
Another long pause came.
“There are magi in this world beyond you and Faye. You know the king has found the power within him. I did not think this was possible. Yet it appears Iblis has infused humanity with a power I did not think he could.”
That did not sound right. Sera had never heard Iblis say anything to that effect; if the demon had a flaw, it was the opposite of Ostus’. Where Ostus spoke vaguely, Iblis spoke bluntly. A secret like that, he would have not kept and used to destroy her and the Quin sisters. And Sera had sensed the possibility of something beyond the grasp of the gods.
But Sera distrusted Ostus. She’d had reason as far back as four hundred years ago, when he claimed not to have a dark side. Now, she did not tell him about the other voice—the indescribable one without a face or tone.
“Humans are easily persuaded to join the side they believe is most noble. Convince the humans to join the magi and defeat Iblis, and you will have a chance. I need not step in.”
“Think about what you are saying, Ostus. You believe we can defeat a god? Your counterpart?”
Sera was getting frustrated. She had bitten her tongue for decades as the world crumbled. Ostus suggested anger had grown in him, implying that he might return to Hydor at some point.
Yet now, that all seemed a ruse to get Sera and others to act.
“Men and magi are capable of things they cannot imagine. Even in the spiritual realm, there are powers you cannot fathom. Souls which can be destroyed. They—”
“Look at the castle before me, Ostus!” Sera shouted, no longer able to control her words. “A hydra came out of the ocean and onto land. Dragons made in the image of Ragnor move further and further north. Countless lives, dead because Iblis had the power to disperse everyone across the world, some to The Forbidden Lands, some to deserts that might as well be forbidden. We are capable of things we cannot imagine? We are capable of things within the realm of our possibilities. We cannot compete with a demon who can snap us to another place in Hydor.”
Sera ran out of words to say, not because she had nothing more to say, but because a terrifying possibility started to envelop her.
What if she was on her own?
What if, for some reason she did not yet understand, Ostus had abandoned her and all of humanity?
What if Ostus had not abandoned her and humanity, yet, because of some ideological dedication to freedom of choice, he would allow those to suffer without a compassionate intervention?
It was like telling a starving child trapped in a prison cell that he was free to move about. Sure, he had freedom, but the parameters left him with limited choices.
“We will die without your help.”
“If that is the fate you accept, then that is the fate you will have.”
Sera felt fury inside of her.
No, not because this was the end. She’d known that for a week. Not because she felt Ostus was giving up on her.
But because she sensed that, like his words from before, he spoke not to tell her the truth, but to manipulate her into confronting Iblis without his interference. It felt like they would do all the bloody work, and he would come in to triumph at the end. Well, perhaps four hundred years ago, she would have called herself a soldier of Ostus.
Now?
“Leave me be, Ostus,” Sera said. “I must ponder what to do without your presence.”
Ostus grumbled before her. Suddenly, the white faded, and she found herself in a darker room. It wasn’t the black void Iblis liked to torment people in; this felt more akin to the blue hue that a clear night under the stars would provide.
But she knew she had said something to provoke Ostus. And if she had two gods against her? Never mind what would happen to her physical body—what would become of her soul?
“I am the one that guided you here, child,” Ostus said.
He had to have chosen that last word deliberately, Sera thought. Such a name could not have been picked by accident.
And if it was chosen deliberately, it sure seemed unbecoming of the god that supposedly spoke of peace, kindness, and compassion.
“I am the one who has foreseen how things will unfold. I know what I am doing. If you abandon me, you abandon your faith in your god. That is not a world you wish to live in.”
And then, almost just as quickly, the realm they were in returned to the white light.
“I know these are dark times for you. Take your time to remember what matters.”
Sera, not wanting to inflame the argument further, simply nodded. What Ostus had just said almost felt like false compassion, like he was being nice only so she would return to do his bidding.
But he wasn’t wrong in one regard. She was abandoning her faith in him. She was confused and uncertain about how she would feel about him in a day’s or week’s time, the first instance she could ever recall that happening.
In the name of Hydor, a part of her wondered if the gods could die.
And in doing so, she was creating a world she did not want to live in.
