Flame scorches the sky. Void rips through the earth.
The battlefield is no longer mortal.
This is a war of concepts.
Of beginnings versus endings.
Of fire that creates… and fire that destroys.
I strike first.
White flame whips around me, living and ruthless, burning through everything Xereth touches.
But he doesn't burn.
He devours.
His wings shatter mountains.
His voice splinters light.
And still he watches me.
Not with rage.
But with something worse.
Recognition.
"You finally remember," Xereth whispers in the voice of ten thousand dying stars.
"You remember what I am."
"You were the darkness they unleashed," I growl.
"You were the curse that poisoned creation."
He smiles.
"No, Lyraxis."
"You made me."
The void flickers.
Images burn into the air:
A younger me. Alone in the heavens.
Creating fire from thought. Emotion from light.
And then
One final spark I never meant to shape.
A god of endings.
Born from my exhaustion. My sorrow. My wish to no longer carry the burden of divinity alone.
"You made me to end you," Xereth says.
"Because even gods long to rest."
And now, here we are.
I see it in his eyes.
He doesn't hate me.
He wants to finish his purpose.
"Let me unmake you, Lyraxis," he says.
"Let me give you peace."
I should want that.
I did want that, once.
But not now.
Not anymore.
"You were my worst idea," I whisper.
"But I am not finished."
"I've remembered who I am.
And now, I'll remember how to destroy what I regret."
The battlefield folds around us.
Time screams.
Light burns inside out.
And I unleash something I've kept sealed since the gods chained me
The Eternal Fire.
It doesn't destroy.
It purifies.
And Xereth, the god born to end me finally flinches.