A man fell before Alaric. Quite pitifully too, such a shame. What a great figure, cut down in front of the boy saviour, leaving us doomed at the hands of an inexperienced clod. His robes tattered and stained with blood.

“Shut up, voice,” Alaric answered. He could whine all he liked, but it wouldn’t stop the narrator from pointing out the fact that this had been entirely his fault. “It’s…no, i-it’s not,” Alaric whined further.

“We need to get out of here!” yelled a sensible brute. A friend of Alaric’s, and one who had a build much more befitting of a hero. Chancery was his name, and he picked up Alaric’s weak and nimble frame up by the collar of his shirt and began to run.

The hydra at their back screeched a terrible scream, annoyingly loud and bone chilling. Alaric dare not look at it, as his cowardice overpowered every other feeling. Instead, they ran for a while, until someone decided to cause another interruption. It’s charitable to say Alaric ran at all, considering he was carried most of the distance.

“We…We have to go back! Lansir might still be alive,” Alaric shouted, stopping everyone else from doing anything remotely helpful. He wiggled out of Chancery’s grasp and fell onto the ashen ground, slamming a fist down in front of him.

Well, since he’d decided to already throw a tantrum, it would be good to at least hear out what half-boiled plan he had come up with. “Shut up, voice!” Alaric shouted at the narrator, but he would not in fact. It was about time someone stopped sheltering the boy of Prophecy.

“Alaric, who are you talking to?” Lilina asked. She was a peasant girl from his village. Once Alaric had been unfairly chosen for the role, she had stepped up to make sure that he didn’t get himself killed with his inflated ego.

“N-no one. Lilina, listen. He could have cast a spell. Perhaps a ward to stop himself from dying. But if we leave him there, even that would fail!” Alaric reasoned with flawed logic. He slapped himself to shut the voice up, but the narrator persisted.

Something so skin deep could not affect the narrator, after all. He persisted in his self-harm, until Lilina grabbed at his arms. Stopped by a girl, was he now? Quite embarrassing. She looked at him like the pitiful creature he was. Short statured, with bright hair that beaconed to everyone in the nearest mile that he was easy pickings. Embroidered clothes covered his body, made from the finest silk the kingdom could afford.

It was the least that they could do for the boy of Prophecy, after all. In his hands lay the power to destroy the Lord of Cataclysm. Perhaps it was stupid to leave the fate of the entire world in the hands of a teenager, especially one as unstable as Alaric was now.

“You’re hurt, and not thinking right. We should go back to the barricade,” Lilina said, thinking clearly. She had a sweet smile, Alaric thought. As if he ever had a chance with someone worth something.

“Yes….Yes we should. I…I need rest,” Alaric replied. He fell unconscious soon after, leaving the task of carrying him to another one of his “friends.”

****

Back at the barricade, Chancery laid Alaric down on the makeshift bed. Outside, Ash fell and the cries of soldiers rang deafeningly. Alaric should have seen it. Maybe it would have shown him the reality of the situation now that his rose-tinted glasses had been removed.

“Keep busy, little one,” Chancery said rightly.

“Don’t call me that,” Alaric snapped back. Tsk. Then, perhaps because he’d finally noticed how bratty he sounded, he added, “….please.”

Chancery left him there and went to do something helpful, Lilina following him out. They’d be in the battlefield fighting the hordes of Cataclysm. The longer the battle went on, the more space they’d lose. All because Alaric couldn’t make it to the end and do what he was supposed to.

A general walked into the room soon after, nurses accompanying him and bandaging up the feeble frame of Alaric. He had a nasty cut down his eye, giving him a rough look about him. He wore a soldier’s uniform, sword at his side and hair tied up in a bun. “What are you doing here, Chosen?” he asked, faith diminishing.

“….I failed. Ground opened up in front of us and almost swallowed us up…Lansir saved us from the hydra, but it cost him his life,” Alaric explained weakly. The general began to sob in front of Alaric, albeit weakly.

Am…Am I that much of a disappointment? Alaric thought to himself, and right was he to do so. The general, being made of sterner stuff, didn’t let his tears weigh him down, however.

“We will retreat,” he said firmly. Alaric, continuing his trend, disagreed.

“No! We just need one push! Please, let me!” he begged. The general put a hand on his shoulders and gave him a serious look, one that held more compassion than someone like him deserved.

“You are too valuable to us. This will all be for naught if you die here. We cannot suffer another decade in wait of you, chosen,” the general explained. Through teary eyes, Alaric nodded and was whisked away on horseback. As he looked back on the battlefield, with mages slinging fire and demonic beings ripping through them like butter, he couldn’t help but feel a bit responsible.

All those lives, little Alaric, all of them are on you. Alaric wanted to turn his face away from the scene of the carnage but kept it fixed. Look upon the wreckage you’ve caused. Your failed operation, your hands that blood stains.

****

Lilina gathered up some sticks for the fire while Alaric sat at one of the stones near the river. He skipped stones, one of the only things he was good at considering how much he did it as a child.

She walked up to his miserable figure and coughed to get his attention. Alaric didn’t turn to look at her.

“Alaric it’s getting cold. Wouldn’t you rather be near the warm fire?”

“Not particularly.”

“But staying in the cold wi-”

“Lilina, do you read?” Alaric asked. She put down the bundle in her arms and thought for a moment while Alaric kept skipping rocks.

“Not many. Spent most of my time hunting out in the woods.”

Another mark against Alaric. He’d spent his childhood reading books in a lofty merchant’s house. How could he ever understand the plight of hunting for every meal.

“In those stories, the final charge always works. The hero wins, the party rejoices and then the story ends,” Alaric said. Childish books, unlike reality in any way considering what happened to poor little Alaric.

Lilina sighed, “I can see what you’re getting at. Come now,” she said before pulling him up by the collar of his much too soft shirt. “Rotting with the branches won’t do your attitude any good.”

Lilina moved Alaric as far as she could, dragging him uncomfortably. Alaric barely resisted, lest he look even more of a child than he was acting like. Chancery was carving out a few figures in wood, shaving off bits and pieces until it resembled some of his old farm animals.

Alaric shoved as much stew down his throat as he could, but found no comfort in the warm meal. A figure fell off of Chancery’s hands and into the side of the fire. He clicked his tongue in annoyance. Alaric stared as the little wooden toy caught fire. He didn’t even think for a moment before grabbing the burning figurine and dousing the fire in his own hands.

Chancery and Lilina stared as Alaric opened his palm, and let his burnt skin show with a half-made figure nestled within. He gave a bitter smile to them both, as Chancery stood up.

“Idiotic little…” he said, before throwing the figurine over his shoulder and onto the grass near him.

Alaric looked at it with a bit of annoyance. “I thought you wanted that?” he asked unassumingly.

“Not important now.” Chancery didn’t look up. He instead focused his magical power into his hands and let it out in a healing aura. Alaric watched as the outline of his wounds glowed with a green light, before closing in and fixing the burns. They winked out in little circles and Chancery examined the hand once over, checking to see if the foolish boy hadn’t done himself any permanent harm.

Lilina didn’t bother finishing her meal. Instead, she put the bowl on a wooden stump and stood up. “Come now, Alaric. You’re tired,” she said.

Alaric nodded and followed along like a little brother. He followed her to the little beds they’d made and laid down on them. Lilina watched over him the entire night, something that stung at his sensibilities. He shouldn’t have to be watched like a man about to end it all, should he?

Maybe so, but Alaric wasn’t willing to confront that as of that moment. Just like he was too afraid to face every other failure that had led them to this point. Instead, he closed his eyes and recounted those tales once more. Mighty blades clashing against the visages of evil, reigning victorious before a last sacrifice that leaves the world in peace.

Though he knew it shouldn’t, the thought of sacrificing himself and letting all the worries bleed away from his body appealed to Alaric at that moment.

****

They arrived in the kingdom shortly after. Lilina and Chancery gawked at the wondrous designs embroidered on the clothing everyone wore. Each piece told a story, no matter how mundane, of that person. The pelts of warriors contained mighty battles sewn into their seems, against forces of the Lord of Cataclysm.

“I wonder, do they sew mighty failures onto their vests, too?” Chancery wondered aloud. Lilina knocked him in the side and glared at him, both glancing over to Alaric to make sure he hadn’t heard. He didn’t bother reacting, as he knew any word out of his mouth would be another reason or them to worry.

Instead, they sought audience with the king and queen of the realm, who sat in the center of the capital, within a stronghold enchanted with magical strength.

How would it have gone if we had technology like this? Stones as strong as steel, and not nearly as heavy.

The doors of the castle opened and they were ushered in with reverence. People spoke in respectful terms, referring to them as “The Chosen and his Followers.” Would they still hold the same tone if they knew who was really in charge of their small band?

In the main room of the castle, several nobles stood, giving way to the king and queen. Upon their robes were mighty battles against monsters of immeasurable size. They nodded at Alaric before the Queen conjured up some seats for them all. They felt exceedingly soft to the touch, something that Alaric thought of as being especially difficult for sorcerers.

Alaric glanced around at the noblemen gathered around him and felt them stare daggers into his very being.

“Honoured Chosen, the people of Tamanige are delighted to meet with you. what brings you to our little Kingdom in these trying times, however?”

Lilina and Chancery didn’t speak for an awkward moment, so Alaric decided to pipe up. “I…We require help. Our forces are diminished while Cataclysm’s grow only stronger with time.”

“Diminished you say? What of the charge a-”

“The charge failed,” Alaric suddenly said. “Due to my incompetence, it failed.”

Whispers went around. Alaric heightened his senses with his magical energy and found many insults mixed in with worried comments. It was deserved, however.

“Please, I beg of you. We need your forces and your technology if we’re to succeed!” Alaric begged, breaking any illusion of Heroism he represented. He stood up from his plush seat and emphasized his point with spread out hands.

Lilina and Chancery both tried dragging him down, but he batted away his hands and turned his head towards the royals. They had a pensive expression on their face.

“I…I don’t know if we can spare such an army as of this moment. Border skirmishes threaten our country all the time and I fear in the midst of this war, they might try and take territory away from us,” the king explained. Alaric felt frustration towards the man, but what fault had he in this? Was he really expected to give up everything he had for someone he’d never met in his life?

“If you don’t help us now, there won’t be a kingdom left to skirmish over!” In his gesturing, Alaric managed to knock over a cup from the table in front of him. He winced as the ceramic broke against the fine flooring, but a moment later, the major shards of the shattered cup rose into the air.

The queen concentrated and swept them away into an awaiting servant’s vase. The king nodded towards her and then focused back on Alaric.

“We’re much too scattered as is, Chosen. Perhaps if you could convince the other rules…?” he asked in an expecting tone.

Alaric sat back down in his seat with a thud, while Lilina moved over to his ear and whispered. “Think about this Alaric. Don’t be hasty, unless-”

“Unless I want to doom us all, yes, thank you, Lilina,” Alaric finished for her. He didn’t look at her direction for even a moment before ordering the king.

“Fine. I’ll convince your neigbouring nations to a truce. We’ll need a representative from yours, however.”

“Whatever for?” the king asked. “Negotiations. I….just lack the skill to do so,” Alaric admitted, finally letting himself be humbled from those much more knowledgeable than him.

Several shouts rose from the noble audience, requesting for them to be chosen or their children. It would bring great honour if they were to facilitate relations between them and the kingdom of Tamanige.

A servant brought over drinks for the Royals, though Alaric found her appearance a bit…forced?

“Thank you, good m-” the king said before choking on his words and taking a good look at the maid.

“Avi, what are you doing in that dress!” he exclaimed in shock.

“Why, father, you said the Chosen was arriving so I wanted to do my best to give him a warm welcome!”

“You’re not a maid, young lady!”

“I’m trying to serve the kingdom, like you said!”

The Queen stifled a laugh at her husband’s reddening face, while Avi stood there in mock-innocence. Lilina coughed to garner the attention of the royals.

“Terribly sorry for that. I’ll deal with her later, so forgive me for the display, Chosen,” the King quickly apologized. He gestured for some real maids to arrive and escort her back to the room, but Avi would have none of it.

“You’re going to the other kingdoms to petition their kings, aren’t you? Why not take me? It’d mean a great deal to them if the princess of Tamanige was accompanying you, wouldn’t it?” Avi said.

“Avi, not now!” The King quickly shut her up before she could spout anything more.

“Actually, she has a point,” Alaric said. Though how much of that was infatuation and how much of it was really a point didn’t seem to bother him at the moment.

“If it’s alright with you, having her as our representative would be ideal, Your majesty,” Chancery reasoned.

“And what of her safety? There’s a war going around and you want me to send my daughter into enemy ground?” the King said, taking on a more grave tone.

“With all due respect, Alaric and Lilina are both expert magicians. You should know of the magical potential of the Chosen, Your majesty,” Chancery continued.

The Queen spoke into the king’s ears and after glancing at Avi, he relented.

“Fine. Avinana of Tamanige will be accompanying you…along with several companies of soldiers.”

“We can’t afford to take such a large number of soldiers, Your majesty,” Chancery said after seeing Alaric pale at the amount of time it would take for them to visit each kingdom.

“Tsk. A single company then. I won’t relent any further than this, even for you, Chosen.”

Alaric simply nodded in response. This would slow them down, and after his last battle time was one of the things they were running out of. But if they succeeded in this, perhaps Alaric could redeem the numerous failures that he’d been responsible for.

Or maybe he’d fall into further despair after realizing how much time he’s wasted on this endeavour and how strong the Lord of Cataclysm has become in his absence.

“Thank you….Your majesty,” Alaric said in response.

****

Alaric sat closer to the fire than before. The soldiers that accompanied them had their own tents set up surrounding the main group. Avi chatted animatedly with Lilina and Chancery both, as Alaric desperately tried to impress her.

He showed her his magical might, lifting a few rocks with ease and spinning them in a perfect circle. He felt embarrassed when Avi replicated the trick by herself after only seeing it a few times.

“I bet you can’t skip rocks better than me,” Alaric challenged her, and they took to the stream to confirm. The company leader went with them, not wanting to leave them out of his sight for even a moment.

Alaric threw the first stone, and felt proud of the seven skips it did across the water. So when Avi almost reached that on her first try, he felt that pride go away almost immediately. She never reached that high again, however, which though his insecure mind would never admit it, made him feel better about himself.

“You’ve never tried applying magic to the skips?” Avi asked him.

“I’ve…only a rudimentary understanding of it myself,” Alaric explained. How good could a simpler merchant’s son really be with such basic training, indeed. It was impressive he hadn’t blown himself up all those ages ago.

“Any action can be infused with magic, Alaric. Like…this!” she said as she concentrated on the rock in between her hands. Once she let it go on the water, it did double the amount of skips that Alaric’s best had done.

“Well, if our enemies every peak over the surface of the ocean, I guess that would be useful,” Alaric said dryly. Though for no apparent reason, Avi chuckled. “Any action, Alaric. It just depends on where your talents lie. Sometimes it won’t work for you, but for someone else. That’s all part of the process of learning what you can and can’t do.”

Alaric pondered on that for a moment and wondered. If he’d infused the land itself with his vast magic, could he steer the fate of the world itself? Could he…have changed what had happened?

“I think I need more practice, then. Avi, would you be willing to…teach me?” he asked. Avi’s face brightened up to what he said. Before she could utter a reply however, Alaric received a grim reminder of how true her statement had been.

Magic could indeed do anything one put their mind to. Which included the power to rip open portals between realms and bring an army from the step of Cataclysm right to them.

Shouts erupted all over the camp as monsters trudged in from the portals. Giant twisted beasts with salivating fangs, mangled trees with the bodies of innocents impaled upon reddened branches, Glowing figures with manic grins.

Explosions rang out and Alaric lost sight of Lilina and Chancery both. The company leader, who’s name Alaric regrettably couldn’t remember at the moment, guided both him and Avi towards the edge of the camp, garnering forces along the way so that they could surround and protect the Chosen and Avinana.

Arrows fell among the trees and fire reigned from the mouths of those golden figures, lighting ablaze the forest. The company leader held onto a catatonic Alaric, who was once more a useless child stuck in the middle of a war. But this time, he had the sense to bear through it and do something.

Alaric yanked his hand away from the company leader and ran.

“Get back here, boy! You’ll get yourself killed!”

“I’m going after Lilina and Chancery. Just leave without me!” Alaric said, before infusing his legs with magic and bursting onto the scene.

Though however little was his training, Alaric had learned two things about the Chosen. He had vast magical reserves, and he could do almost anything that he could envision. Alaric held out his free hand, flooding it with magical energy until a shimmering blade covered his forearm. It swept through the enemy forces like a knife through butter.

The shimmer of his sword lessened with each slice through the forces, and Alaric came upon one of those hut sized wolven beasts he’d heard howling before. It’s clawed hand exited the portal, followed by a massive snout and finally it’s unsightly face.

Alaric used his magic to boost him up to the beast’s face, upon which he slammed his blade right into the skull. The beast barely let out a yelp before falling prone in front of the portal and keeping anyone else from entering.

Shouts of encouragement were sent towards Alaric, though he didn’t hear it through the bloodshed. He moved like a storm, cutting and slicing. Both his arms had become blades, and he barely felt the strain on his reserves as he cut through the crowd.

He’d had this much inside him all along? What if he hadn’t frozen up before? Would he be this weaving storm of death, singlehandedly turning the course of the battle in his side? Those were his thoughts until the enemy began employing magicians of its own.

Men and women in tight fitting costumes, coupled with face masks and knives, rushed onto the scene and began slaughtering the soldiers on the other side. Five of them cornered Alaric, who tried slicing them with his blades before having them broken apart and a fist plunged into his ribs.

He tried sweeping with his other arm, but even that was dispelled as he felt gravity strengthen around him. Alaric fell to the ground around the men and women, but put every bit of power he had into his bones and infused them with strength. He charged at one of the men, who still sliced at him with that dagger and drew a line of blood.

Before he could suffer more injuries, Alaric ran past them. He began his search anew on the battlefield. There! On riverside where they’d set up camp. Chancery and Lilina fought against the forces of Cataclysm. A body lay in front of Chancery, another magician that he must have killed.

Alaric rushed over and punched one of the beasts in the eye, blinding it and buying some time.

“Lilina, Chancery! Follow me!” he bellowed, ushering them to his location. With the three of them, the only worries they had were other magicians. Alaric ran at the sight of them, bringing Lilina and Chancery along with him as they ran. They followed the path that Avinana had taken, arriving at the edge where other soldiers were making their stands. Some of them slung balls of fire, while others liquified the ground in front of the beasts.

Some, those who were not magically inclined, just fended off the smaller beasts with their spears and swords. Even with such little power on their side, they were still putting up a fight so that Alaric could come running to them.

Once he reached the location, he heaved a deep breath and shouted for the company leader. He ran over and greeted them with a grim demeanour.

“We won’t be able to make it out of here. Too many wounded soldiers, not enough supplies to survive the journey,” he explained.

“Then what do w-“

Alaric started to say before a pack was shoved in his and his friends’ faces. He stared at the rations and tools inside.

“No…No, please, don’t make me do it again! I want to fight. I can fight, finally!” Alaric said.

“And yet this isn’t your fight to win. We’re outnumbered. You’re tired. Use your magic, run as fast as you can. And boy?” he asked.

“Yes?”

“Keep the princess safe,” he said. Alaric ground his teeth in anger, but dragged off Avinana when Chancery and Lilina couldn’t. They ran until their magic gave, then even more so until their bodies did.

The land seemed unfamiliar when they finally fell from exhaustion. There, on the grassy fields surrounded by nothing, they huddled in a cold pile and blinked into unconsciousness.

****

A few days later, the group wasn’t as lively as before. Alaric wouldn’t dare try change the mood, so he was thankful for the walls appearing on the horizon to do it for him.

Machines flew in the sky, something that amazed Alaric to no end.

“What are those?” he asked, slack jawed.

“Airships, Alaric. Have you never seen one?” Avi asked.

“N-no? How do they…do that?” Alaric asked. Instead of answering his question, Avi simply held her hands together, and a moment later, floated a few feet above the ground.

Alaric dropped to the ground and saw that it wasn’t a trick. He swept a hand under her and felt no invisible force holding her aloft. “You’ve never thought of the possibility?” she asked him, though he was too embarrassed to answer.

She glanced over to Chancery and Lilina and got similarly awkward responses. Avi let out a small chuckle and then continued moving. “I’ll teach you some day how to accomplish it. It’s not as difficult as it looks.”

The others followed behind her. When they happened upon the city guards, they almost didn’t believe her when she said she was the daughter of royalty. It took the Chosen’s badge to confirm it for them, after which they issued apologies to both him and the princess.

Inside the walls of the castle, they were given a welcoming ceremony from the king himself, along with rooms in which to clean themselves off while the monarch readied himself for the meeting.

Alaric tidied up in his room before going to meet Avi. On his way, he bumped into a tall man, one who looked young and handsome, with red fiery hair sat upon his head.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry for that, Chosen!” he said, prostrating himself before Alaric.

“Get up, man. It’s embarrassing when no one’s around,” Alaric said. The man raised himself up from his position, but looked confused.

“I really am sorry, however. I was just going to meet my fiancé, so forgive me for being lost in thought.”

“It’s fine,” Alaric said as he waved him off. He passed by the other gentleman, going to Avi’s quarters to meet with her in private. Though eventually, he heard the same footsteps behind him and saw the man coming back.

“I thought you were going to visit your lover?” Alaric asked with his hand on Avi’s room’s doorknob.

“Silly me for getting confused. She’s staying in this room this time,” the boy said before putting his hand on the doorknob as well and opening it up. Alaric stood confused as the man’s face beamed and he shouted, “Avi, how are you!”

Avi was sitting on her dressing table, so she smiled politely as the man entered. Alaric felt as though he should leave before she noticed his presence, but caught her glance and sighed. He waved a hello as he followed the other man inside the room.

“Are you alright, love?” The man asked Avi.

“You never told me Avi would be your fiancé?” Alaric asked as he shut the door behind him.

“Honest mistake. I didn’t want you to concern yourself with such little matters, Chosen,” the man beamed a smile at him.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“You can stop calling me that. Alaric would be just fine,” he said, feeling embarrassed by the title at the moment.

“You know, Windle, you could learn to be a bit less scatterbrained,” Avi said jokingly. Windle laughed in response, though Alaric could hardly call it funny. Probably because of the jealousy burning within him right now. Perhaps he hated being trapped in such a typical situation out of one of his little fairytales?

“I guess I should properly introduce myself to the Cho-Alaric I mean, then?” he said, turning to face him.

“Prince Windle of the Manarige Kingdom, at your service. The King ordered that I keep an eye over her, since you wouldn’t let him do it himself, princess,” he chuckled nervously, though Avi seemed to appreciate his presence.

More than she did his too, didn’t she?

“Shut up, voice,” Alaric whispered, finally acknowledging the narrator once more. See how much use that would be, why don’t you?

“Did you say something, Alaric?” Avi asked him. She seemed worried, though how much more worried would she be about Windle?

“Uh, nothing. I…should be taking my leave. Wouldn’t want to annoy you lovebirds, haha,” he said before turning to leave.

“Uh, yes, I guess?” Avi answered. Alaric swiftly exited the room and infused his legs with magic to rapidly make his way as far as possible. It was the perfect time to practice that flying that Avi wanted to teach him.

Even better to fail at practice.

****

“I’m sorry, Chosen, but I…can’t accept your offer for a truce,” the King said.

“Why not, father?! If we do this, we have guarantee that Tamanige won’t attack us or try to expand!” Windle shouted in his chambers. Alaric and his crew were gathered around the place.

“Because I made a very foolish decision…and now I must keep to it,” the King continued. He pulled down the sleeve of his hand, revealing the mark of Cataclysm. A purple portal opened up behind him and one of the generals of the Lord of Cataclysm walked out. He was a pale being, with hollow eyes and no mouth about him.

White hair fell in streaks from his head, down onto black and purple coloured metallic armour.

Hello there, Chosen.

“What are you doing here!” Alaric said as he formed one of his shimmering blades.

Gloating. Did you know this, he spoke into their minds as he tapped his foot underneath him, is the last city standing in the country of Manarige? Makes an awfully good starting point for an invasion of the eastern kingdoms, as well. Speaking of which, he said as he snapped his fingers.

Portals opened up along the street as people rushed this way and that. Large, brutish creatures flooded out, but they didn’t dare hurt the people around them.

“You said you would keep this place and it’s people out of harm’s way!” the Monarch shouted at the general.

“He’s a being of chaos, fool. Any deal you make with him is void!” Alaric cursed.

Now, now. Don’t be so hasty. My creatures won’t attack anything that was made here. No people, not even an animal. But pray tell, are you from this kingdom, Chosen? Or are any of your friends?

Alaric felt a chill go down his spine as the general rushed him through the door and dragged him across the floor. Alaric struggled against the hold of the general, trying to rip himself free as he was dragged into the sky.

He could distantly see the people huddling into their houses against the onslaught of monsters. They were trapped within their houses, not allowed to leave as a barrier of beasts surrounded the capital.

Something on your mind, Chosen? You should really be focusing on the opponent in front of you!

The general’s hand turned into a spike and thrust at his face. Alaric blocked with his hand, having it impale his arm instead. He kicked off of the general and began falling. Alaric focused, calling up the well of energy within him.

He opened his eyes to find the ground a few feet away from him, his body floating above the ground. The general looked at him from the sky, with the same featureless face. Alaric grit his teeth, knowing his mission.

He rushed into the sky and floated a distance apart from the enemy. “Why do this? You’re not a beast like the others!” Alaric shouted.

The general put a hand against his chest, looking almost pleased to have been asked. Lenif-Aksin. If you’d studied your history, you’d know me as the founder of Manarige, he explained.

“And now you work for the devil himself!” Alaric growled.

The devil in your eyes, perhaps. Lenif replied. He then brought out a black blade from a sheath at his side and brandished it in front of Alaric. Alaric held out a hand similarly produced a blade of his own.

I am the wielder of seven magics, high general of Cataclysm. I feel honoured fighting you, Chosen! Lenif said, before flying towards Alaric in a rage. In the sky, they twisted and turned, swinging blades at each other.

Alaric was at a disadvantage. Lenif knew how to position himself in the sky much better than he did. He swung from angles that were impossible to predict for someone who had only fought on the ground before. Cuts appeared all over Alaric’s body, burning with a black smoke that he couldn’t recognize.

He looked at those cuts for a moment, then willed them to close. His magic obeyed and his wounds resealed themselves immediately.

Lenif kicked at him during the moment’s distraction, sending him tumbling onto the roof of a building and into the kitchen. Alaric coughed out smoke and looked around, finding a small family huddled around him in the wreckage of the room.

“Run!” he shouted at them and they obeyed his order. A moment later, Lenif floated down into the room while Alaric raised his sword hand.

I’m disappointed, Chosen. Your previous incarnations were much more…creative with their powers.

“I suppose you wouldn’t mind telling me what wonders they accomplished?” Alaric asked, trying to buy time for himself.

Lenif looked deep in thought before a memory struck him. Ayvis Serefindal. Known as the greatest scientific mind of his time. He used his magic to read an innumerable number of books at once.

“A scholar? How could he ever be chosen?”

Haha. Ayvis was famous for one magic in particular! A deadly spell that left the land scorched and cursed. Anyone who settled there for the next hundreds of years would find themselves poisoned and dying slowly.

Lenif pointed his blade down at Alaric as he spoke. I myself was witness to one of these blasts. No one should have that kind of power, Chosen, not even you, he muttered. He then began his assault anew. Alaric this time grabbed at his hand and infused Lenif with as much magic as he could muster, sending him through the hole in the roof once more.

He renewed his blade arm, then slashed at his chest as they took to the skies once more. Lenif tried maneuvering out of Alaric’s magic, but it was clear who’s reserves were larger. Lenif stopped in the sky while Alaric sheared a finger off of his left hand.

Tsk, pity, Lenif said as he saw the finger fall back into the city. Then he took a look into the city streets proper and noticed his portals closing.

Why are they…? he muttered, but Alaric was continuing his swings. Lenif felt his power lower, his reserves depleting while Alaric’s remained high. Each swing took off another plate of armour, before Alaric finally cut off his sword hand and made him drop his weapon.

He dispelled the flight on Lenif, then held him by his collar. The weight of both of them made them float downwards slowly, while Lenif grinned.

You took out the teleporters, didn’t you? he asked Alaric.

“Having that many magicians capable of teleportation on your side seemed impossible. So yes, we did kill your magicians,” Alaric said as he dropped the man onto the ground, letting him die right then and there.

Alaric stared at his corpse in disgust, but had no time to rest. Now that Lenif was dead, the beasts under his control went wild. The screams of the people distracted Alaric, forcing him to come to the aid of everyone in the city.

No! I should have thought this through, damn it!

*****

Alaric sat at a mountain of corpses. He’d converted some of the monsters under his control, and they were helping to pile them up outside of the city walls. He was covered in blood, his clothes stained beyond recognition.

After a moment, his friends came up to see him, along with Windle, who bore a hateful expression. “The king?” Alaric asked.

“Dead,” Windle replied.

“Who killed him?” he asked.

“I did,” Windle said. Alaric looked him in the eyes and gave him a bitter grin. “Wanted the throne that bad, huh?” he joked. But no one laughed. Alaric winced, realizing that this wasn’t the time for such inappropriate jokes.

“Sorry,” he added after.

“So, what do we do now, Alaric?” Lilina said. Alaric stood up.

“As far as I’m concerned, we have Manarige’s support now. What little of it remains,” Alaric said. “We move to the other kingdoms, and we move faster this time. No terrain will hold us this time,” he added.

“Take me with you, Cho-Alaric,” Windle said. And though a childish part of him wanted to leave the man here, he knew that Windle would be more use to them along their journey than anywhere else.

“Fine. But who’ll manage your kingdom?” Alaric asked.

“My mother can handle it for now. It’s best if…she and I not talk for a while,” Windle repleid. Alaric nodded and they began to draw up further plans.

****

Alaric and crew found themselves stranded in the desert, far from any ounce of civilization they could find. The only thing that kept them alive at the moment was the fact that Alaric was a magical water dispenser. Probably better at that than being the Chosen.

Chancery sat and focused on his magic, though he couldn’t bring it out no matter what form he tried.

“Are you sure this theory of yours is correct?” Lilina asked. Alaric sat, watching Chancery and Windle with magically focused eyes.

“It has to be. We just don’t understand the world well enough to know what magic can and cannot do. Perhaps there’s an infinite number of possibilities out there, which makes it all the more likely that anyone can do it, as long as they figure out their talent.”

“Windle seems to have gotten a hold of it pretty fast,” Avi said.

Windle sat with his hands clasped around Avi’s. Where she floated a few feet above the ground, Windle struggled and flailed in the air.

“So you can fly too?” Chancery said, disappointed.

Windle chuckled at his new friend’s frown. “Not exactly. I think…I can copy anyone’s abilities?” He floated down onto the ground after a moment and moved to where Alaric was filling up water bottles.

He put a hand on his exposed shoulder, then with his other hand began to spray water.

“Having a second person as powerful as the Chosen would be amazing!” Lilina said excitedly.

Windle furrowed his brow, however, as he tried performing something else. “Hmmm, only one at a time, it seems. Well, I suppose I can’t be too greedy.”

“That does make me consider, however. Alaric, why not just use your powers as the Chosen to divine Chancery’s powers?” Windle asked.

“I….haven’t tried?” Alaric replied. He closed the tops of their bottles before moving over to Chancery and placing a hand on him. He focused on divining his powers, coming up with a rough image of tracking.

“Chancery…Try to track where your mother is, and touch the ground when you do so,” Alaric suggested. Chancery obeyed, and after a few moments his dull eyes glowed with a brilliant light.

“Wow. Do you see that?” Chancery asked.

“See what?” Avi said.

“The lines. Everything’s dark except the lines that lead westward.”

“Think we’ve cracked what we need to get people’s powers,” Alaric said with a smile. Though secretly, he tried one more thing. He placed a nonchalant hand on Chancery’s skin, then tried to place an image of a new power in his mind.

For once in his life, the magic resisted. Alaric felt as though he was ripping a bit of his soul away with every exchange. He fell onto the ground and began coughing, causing the others to surround him, worried.

“Are you alright, Alaric?” Avi asked hurriedly. Alaric coughed a few more times, taking a cask of water from one of his fellows and gulping it down.

“I-I’m fine. Just got a bad cough,” he explained. The others stared at him with disbelieving looks, but didn’t continue questioning.

****

Finally, after a week or so of travel, by foot or by flight, they reached the third and final major eastern Kingdom. Though they preferred to be called something else, Alaric kept calling them a kingdom. They had a ruler and everything. The only thing they lacked was a Queen, which he thought was just a cultural thing.

Skhorj was a country famous for its alchemy, and the potions that it created. Their medicine was far ahead of any other country at the time.

He and his entourage were greeted with a festival, something that surprised and joyed most of them. Alaric, being shy as he was, didn’t take to the festivities as well as the others, fearing something would happen. Was it fear? Or was it some power that told him that heroes never got rest in times such as these.

Whatever it was, he stewed in the feeling alone. Most of the others had went out to go get new clothes for the festivals, inviting Alaric along for it. He had to reject them several times and then the royal dressers even more before they finally got the point.

“Alaric, look at what they’ve got here!” Avi said from his window. Alaric jumped from his bed and fell on the side, getting a laugh out of Avi in the process. In her hands she held two deep fried looking sticks covered in some sort of powder. The smell they’ve got was sweet in nature. “What are those?” Alaric asked.

“The locals call them ‘Churros’! Try one!” she said as she held out one expectantly. Alaric waved her away. “Sorry, Avi, not in the mood,” he told her before closing the doors on his window.

“Oh…okay,” she replied before floating back downwards. I wasn’t very nice there, was I? he thought to himself, understating the obvious.

In lieu of being around friends, Alaric instead went to the archivists for news of the war. Perhaps it could draw his mind away from other matters that he hated.

“Our magicians tell us it doesn’t go very well. Ventralian is lost and the horde proceeds eastward ever more.”

Alaric paled at the news. The archivist he was talking to looked distraught, helping Alaric to lean against a table.

“I’m sorry for worrying you, Chosen! Please, just enjoy tonight. You can deal with these worries tomorrow!” he reassured.

“You want me to worry about the death of thousands after dessert?” Alaric asked in a manic state. He ignored the rest of the man’s words, instead rushing into the royal chambers as fast as he could. There, he found a composed man sitting with his dressers.

He wore a long robe and had some weird makeup on his eyes that Alaric didn’t recognize. “Something the matter, Chosen?”

“People are dying, Sir. I… I can’t wait for the festival to be over to ask for your help. I don’t want to put up a front. Just please, lend us your support so we can fight against Cataclysm!”

The regent stood up from his seat and looked over Alaric with a pitying expression. “You need to poise yourself. An appearance is just as important as your station, Chosen.”

“I’ll be as poised as you want me to be, after the world is saved. I don’t understand it, how can you just stand here so composed when we’re at WAR!”

The regent held up a hand delicately. “Come sit down. We’ll have a talk.” He waved over one of his dressers, asking them to bring over a drink.

Alaric did as asked, trying to reign in his wilder tendencies as the Regent looked at him. “You have my support, Chosen,” he said. Alaric looked at him with bright eyes, and smiled genuinely. Though the regent held up a hand to calm him.

“That much is guaranteed. But you need other preparations. Readying the defenses, sharing technologies. We will work with Tamanige and Manarige, but you must be the adhesive that holds this truce together. You’ve months of work ahead of you if we’re to match up to the horde. You understand this, right?”

Alaric swallowed. “Y-yes, I do.” The servent returned with drinks in hand. Alaric felt a terrible feeling coming as he began to pour the drinks. And when the regent raised his cup to his face, Alaric slapped it away in a quick motion.

“I-I… that must be poisoned!” Alaric said. The regent looked at him, confused.

He crouched on the ground, then touched the liquid and placed some of his magic inside it. “It’s just tea, Chosen. My magic tell me, at least.”

Alaric felt an idiot for what he had done. But he expected, for whatever reason, that it must have been poisoned. “You’ve had a long journey, Chosen. I’m not sure if you even rested when you got here. Rest for now, enjoy the night after. Once we’re done with the festivities,” he said, “We will ready for war.”

****

A congregation was happening. Alaric stood in the hall, with the leaders of the eastern nations inside. Avi stood at his side, looking at him proudly, mixed with some other emotion he could not recognize.

He grabbed, then stopped at the door many times, each time coming back to her and pacing back and forth.

“What if they don’t agree, Avi? What if….What if even if they do, it fails?” he said, blurting out everything wrong that could happen all at once.

“Alaric…” Avi said, grabbing at his hand. He felt his heart thump in his chest. “Stop being an idiot. Go in there and do it, I know you can,” she said with a sweet expression. Their faces close, Alaric still didn’t expect the kiss that greeted his mouth.

Avi gave him a quick one, though he was left wanting more. “Uh…I…I thought you and…Windle,” Alaric sputtered out.

“We broke it off long ago, Alaric. Just didn’t tell anyone,” Avi said.

“But why! You and him are perfect for each other. He’s charming, funny, handsome. Why me instead of him?” Alaric asked, dumbfounded. Avi looked at him with no humor in her face.

“And?” she asked.

“And…And what do I offer that he doesn’t?” Alaric asked. He couldn’t believe that a woman like her would be interested in him. She’d been the one to take out Cataclysm’s main teleporters. She’d helped him numerous times over their journey, helped him become a better magician than those incarnations that came before. So why would someone as amazing as her want him?

“Alaric, love isn’t a business. I can love well enough whoever I want!” Avi huffed out.

“Even if they’re a self-pitying fool?”

“Well, it gets annoying sometimes, but yes, even a self-pitying fool,” Avi added. “Now, go on. You’ve kept them waiting long enough already.”

Alaric burst through the door with renewed confidence, and argued with the rulers for hours on end. He and they came up with a strategy to finally end the war once and for all. It would require luring the palace of Cataclysm out into the open, so that he might be destroyed along with his beasts.

The only way to do so, regrettably, was to make sure the Chosen stayed at the forefront of the army. Alaric agreed to it, though his cowardice would surely get him killed. And when all was said and done, Alaric felt a bit better about having the end in sight. Now if it would be his end or Cataclysm’s, he did not know.

****

Alaric stood at the top of a stone wall, enchanted by Tamanige technology. On his belt were attached pouches of alchemical drinks, and at his side stood numerous magicians. These were the sorts that normally wouldn’t be considered as such, but after some experimentation, Alaric had found enough with the ability to identify other magics to garner a sizable army of the strongest specialized mages.

Chancery stood at his side with a greatsword in his hand. He polished that blade, looking at Alaric once in a while and nodding. Lilina was reciting some prayers, something she was doing more and more these days.

Avi stood at his side, with weapons of her own and a look of concentration on her face. Her weapons floated a bit away from her, but through some unknown means always seemed to follow wherever she went.

Windle, regrettably, could not be here in the final assault. He was much too busy organizing what was left of his army. He had left a letter, however, and though Alaric was loathe to admit it, he thought of the man as a close friend after the time that they had spent together.

Snow fell around them, heavy as it coated the battlefield. It was a sight Alaric had not seen in ages, since he lived in warmer climates for most of his childhood. Eventually, a portal opened up in front of them. Alaric had made sure to gather enough magicians to prevent a teleport over on their side of the battlefield. So the enemies gathered, and Alaric waited.

They couldn’t rush the battle, so instead they just watched as several generals of the enemy gathered around the main battlefield, floating high above the sky. Blessed by Cataclysm, they had more magic than a normal person should. Alaric snorted, perhaps he would have made a great general himself, were he less of a man.

One of the generals floated towards them, and Alaric stopped anyone from stepping forward. Instead, he flew himself, arriving to stand in front of a woman with horns extending from her head.

“Why do this, Chosen? Your predecessors have failed. They haven’t been able to vanquish Cataclysm, only postpone it. So why fight at all? Let us have our way, we will spare your people, as long as they do not interfere further.”

Alaric chuckled. “You ask why, yet you should know already. No matter the circumstances, evil will never be allowed to exist unchallenged, pawn of Cataclysm.”

“Fate says you will die here,” the general shot back angrily.

“Fate says a lot of things. But my magic, it can do anything as long as I’m touching what I need to affect. And I’ve learned, pawn, in my time, that we’re touching fate every moment of our lives.”

Alaric held his hands out, letting the energy from his body infuse the environment, the very fabric of the universe. There, in that instant, every single living being felt the use of an extraordinary magic, as fate itself was ripped from the hands of Cataclysm and given to Alaric.

Alaric smiled at the general, before moving forward in an instant and punching her down back onto the ground. The general made a large crater on the ground, then before the others could react, Alaric enchanted his voice.

“FIGHT!” he shouted to his allies, and they obeyed. The two sides rushed at each other, monsters on one side, The eastern forces on another.

Cannons rang out, shooting enchanted balls of steel at the enemy and taking them out wherever they were. Magicians rushed forward, each using their special ability to destroy whatever monster they could cross in their field.

One man in particular, seemed to attract the monsters into a singular pile while another shot them far up into the air through some force. Alaric knew that wasn’t typical flight, as he felt the mass just…fall upward.

While he was dealing with two generals at once, his friends took to the others. Chancery and Lilina fought one of their own while Avi took on a general by herself. Her magic let her switch weapons faster than anyone could see, changing styles faster than they could react and plunging her weapons deep into the enemy’s heart.

Alaric bounced from place to place, slashing his blade through hordes. He was chased throughout the battlefield, dodging fangs, claws and arrows as he dealt with the remaining generals. One of them was the same horned woman, who had a crazed look about her now. When one of them swung, they would just barely miss him or hit one another.

“How! How did you steal our fate!” she asked him.

“It was never yours to begin with. The prophecy was written by someone who was Chosen, weaving fate! That means it could be changed by a Chosen!” Alaric replied, a gleeful smile on his face. He plunged into the earth, making it act as though it was water. Then, from behind them he emerged, before slashing at their necks and taking their lives. One of the generals didn’t take particularly well to death, however, so his head sewed back onto his body as he brandished a spear.

Alaric continued his fight with that man, passing a glance at Chancery, who was struggling. He knew his old friend was no match for a general, but as he kept glancing towards them, he noticed that they had the upper hand.

Eventually, Alaric and the general took high into the sky. In the mad chase, the fool didn’t realize how thin the air had gotten. When he tried going back downwards. Alaric grabbed him by the shoulders and copied a trick from that gravity magician’s books. He and the general took the plunge together, gritting against the force on their bodies. Then, at the last moment, Alaric let go and watched the man crash onto the steps of Cataclysm’s palace, his body thrown into multiple parts that were unrecognizable.

The gory sight stung at his senses, so Alaric ignored it in favour of his friends, who had arrived on the steps as well. “Are we ready?” he asked all of them, and received nods in reply. He walked over the steps, not bothering with the pitiably creatures that guarded it. His friends took care of every monster that came in their path, carving a wayward path through the halls of the obsidian structure.

Inside, they found tapestries of other fallen heroes, something that Cataclysm apparently enjoyed reminiscing about. When they finally reached the end of the castle, what they found in the final room was an kindly old man, painting a new image. It showed Alaric in great detail, with the bodies of Lilina, Chancery and Avi surrounding him, and a blade at his throat.

“Oh, arrived, have you?” the kindly old man asked. He turned around to reveal pitch dark eyes, with bright blue shining within them.

A lump formed in Alaric’s throat, but he did not waver. Commendable, somewhat. “Cataclysm,” Alaric said simply.

“Some call me that,” he replied with a smile.

“I don’t care for your pleasantries. Come on out here and face me. This ends now,” Alaric stated, sword hand pointed upwards.

“I don’t wish for a fight, boy. I haven’t the inclination for it,” he said, before focusing back on his drawing. Alaric threw a wave of force at the man’s back, but with a singular hand, he stopped it.

“And yet you do, it seems,” Cataclym sighed. He turned back to Alaric and his friends, who stood poised for a battle.

“You began this, Cataclysm. Don’t tell me you’re too frail to end it now!” Alaric shouted.

“I did not begin anything, Alaric.”

Alaric snorted. “And you expect me to believe that. Is it in your nature to be evil, then? To fight others and slaughter millions? You think I’d feel sorry for you if that was the case?”

“No, of course not. What I mean is, I did not begin this story. I was like you, once, in fact.”

Alaric sneered. “Chosen?”

“I take pride in my status as one. My later incarnations,” he said, sweeping a hand and revealing transparent replicas of the paintings in the halls before, “Each and every one of them should be remembered. Every one except Thaminis,” he spat out the man’s name.

“The creator of the Prophecy?”

“Why do you think he created it, Alaric? He wanted to hunt me down!”

“Because you’re evil. The prophecy only arose once the northern continent was conquered by a mad ruler. Cataclysm. You,” Alaric replied.

“I united the people! You don’t know how much we bickered, and fought! And now I’m hunted through the centuries by even more of my incarnations. Every one of you I’m forced to kill, I regret,” Cataclysm explained.

“You could have stopped at any point. You chose not to,” Alaric fired back.

“And what? Leave you to your devices. Do you understand what Chosen are capable of, Alaric? The destructive potential we hold?” Cataclysm explained.

“I’ve heard of what Ayvis was capable of,” Alaric said.

“Yes, you’ve heard. I saw it. That wasn’t an ounce of what he could really do, given enough time. So, I killed him, then vowed to make sure another Chosen never arose. The world teeters on the edge of cataclysm, and yet you blame me for it…” Cataclysm angrily stated. Bitterness could be felt on the edge of every word.

“I can’t stop the cycle. Chosen are still born once every few hundred years. No matter how strong, no one Chosen is powerful enough to end such a Fate-bound cycle. Another Chosen will arise, Alaric, and someday that Chosen will destroy us all. All because you were foolish enough to end me. So I ask you, don’t fight me. Help me rid the world of those like us!” Cataclysm offered. And though some part of what Cataclysm said sounded righteous to him, Alaric wouldn’t forget.

“You’ve hurt innocents. You’ve killed innocents in the pursuit of goals that seem honourable. Therefore,” he materialized a white shimmering blade with a curved hilt this time, “Your life is forfeit, Lord of Cataclysm.”

Alaric rushed at Cataclysm, shouting as the older man donned an invisible armour. His sword bounced off of the armor, and Cataclysm smiled as he brought a fist down onto him. Alaric felt his flesh trying to part, so he made it harder than metal. He used his other fist and smashed it into Cataclysm’s face, sending him tumbling through the hallway they’d entered.

Chancery shot a few arrows at the man, but all that did was annoy him. Cataclysm touched the floor with his hand bound Chancery’s leg in stone, moving towards him with blade in hand.

“No!” Alaric shouted as he blocked the slash at Chancery’s throat with his blade.

Alaric undid the binding on Chancery’s feet, letting him stand up and nock another arrow on his bow. Avi kept Cataclysm busy for a moment, so Alaric looked at him and shook his head.

“Not good enough,” he said, before trying something extremely stupid. Alaric put his hand on Chancery once more. Some of his reserves emptied, and he once more felt that his soul was being ripped apart. Then finally, once the process was over, he looked at Chancery with his magical sight once more.

“Congratulations, we’re both chosen now,” he said, though he struggled a bit before standing up. He felt his reserves lessen, and his power diminish somewhat. He looked Chancery, wondering if the other man would know what to do with his new powers, but it was for naught as the brute caught on fairly quickly.

He repeated the process with Lilina as well, feeling himself half as strong as he should be. Then all four of them surrounded Cataclysm.

“You fool! Don’t you know how weak you are now!” He insulted Alaric.

“They’re all the power I need, Cataclysm.”

Cataclysm threw a spray of fire at the group, separating him from them. He then began to open a portal, but Lilina burst from another one behind him and closed it. Cataclysm, in fury, stabbed her in the abdomen and threw her at the ground. Alaric caught her and settled her down while Chancery and Avi kept Cataclysm busy.

“Heal yourself, now,” he said, before taking flight as well. An explosion rocked the top of the structure, blowing it apart and letting Cataclysm into the open air. There, he created a fireball of immeasurable size, and flung it down towards the battlefield.

Chancery took a look at it, then nocked another arrow on his bow, infusing it with energy and shooting it into the center of the fire. It burst apart in a spray of light sparks, harmlessly bouncing off of the soldiers who were on the field.

“You pest! You’re not Chosen! You bear no responsibility! If he were to give everyone the powers he’s given you, do you understand how many could fall?!” Cataclysm chided. He looked mad as could be, Alaric rushed up towards him and fought madly, trading blows, blowing off limbs and then regenerating them just as fast.

He slashed with his blade against Cataclysm, chipping away at the weapon. “I…I tried, Alaric. When no one else would, I did!” Cataclysm muttered, the madness of centuries catching up to him.

Alaric disengaged to take a breath, and Cataclysm took the opportunity to gather something between his hands. “I hate using this. But you leave me no choice,” he said, before Alaric realized what was happening.

He’s going to blow the entire battlefield up, like Ayvis.

Alaric rushed towards him, placing the sword in Cataclysm’s chest just as the half-finished reaction concluded. An explosion fired off in the sky, which Alaric barely protected against. His flesh singed, and he and Cataclysm were both flung back into the ruins of the castle.

Alaric grunted, before rising from the rocks he was laying against. Cataclysm didn’t look much better. The light from the hole shined through, becoming their only source of illumination. He tried grabbing at a severed arm, but Alaric kicked it away before the old man had a chance. He pointed the white blade at his throat, and demanded.

“You said no one Chosen could change Fate to that extent. You have a choice now. Give me all of your power, now.”

“And make you into twice the threat your reincarnation would be?” Cataclysm asked.

“So I can end the cycle. You’ve lived too many years. Let it pass, let yourself expire. Just give me your power to do so, and it shall be done,” Alaric said. He held out a hand as he said so.

“And what guarantee do I have of your honesty. Ayvis, for all intents and purposes, was a good man as well,” Cataclysm sounded bitter. Alaric pondered for a moment befor wiping the dirt and blood off from his nose.

“What’s your name?” he asked Cataclysm. The old man looked surprised to be asked a question. He then took a deep breath and spoke,

“Venric. My name is Venric. I was a painter before finding my abilities,” he answered. Alaric threw away his blade and crouched before Venric.

“I promise you, Venric. I will stop this the best I can,” he said, looking into the old man’s eyes. The blackness faded from them, leaving the eyes of a human in their place. He held out a hand towards Alaric, then grabbed onto his.

“It is yours,” he said, before transferring all of his abilities onto Alaric. Cataclysm died that day, and soon after did Venric, having given all of himself over to Alaric.

Alaric felt strong. Better than he had ever been with his abilities. The powers he held were stronger than that of any Chosen in the world before him. And that was exactly why he could not keep them forever. Lilina, Avi and Chancery floated down into the rubble, looking in awe as they saw Cataclysm’s corpse splayed there.

“Is…Is he really dead?” Chancery asked. “We saw the monsters outside disappear one by one, so we thought…but we didn’t think.”

“It’s not done yet, Chancery. I need your powers,” Alaric said with a sullen expression. Chancery and Lilina held out their hands hesitantly, but Alaric took them in his gently. He felt the powers return to him, bringing him further power.

“What are you going to do now, Alaric?” Avi asked him.

“What I promised.”

Alaric held his hand out once again, touching fate. He saw it much stronger this time, connecting everything and everyone in the world, no matter how small their role in its design. Every event up to that point, every role his friends had played, every swing of the blade, he saw it all.

He took a deep breath, and found where Chosen were decided. He chuckled when he realized what the qualities fate looked for were. Bravery, Kindness, Just, Humble. To think, he’d ever been chosen.

He took that part of fate, and destroyed it with every ounce of power he had. Immediately, the foundation of the castle rumbled, and rocks began to fall. Alaric let the power go, feeling all of it fade from his body quickly.

The floor split around them, so Alaric used the last vestiges of his power to open a portal. He had a stupid grin on his face as he did. He ushered Lilina and Chancery out, but Avi stayed for a moment. “Stop smiling and let’s go!” she shouted, dragging him. But a rock fell between them, separating their clasped hands.

“Alaric!” she shouted, as the castle broke into two halfs and they were separated. “Run, Avi, save yourself!” he shouted at her. “Not witho-”

“Please!” he begged of her. It was just like him to stumble at the end, so close from where he needed to be, yet so far. Avi looked back with a tearful gaze, but ran into the portal anyway. The portal closed around her and led her to safety, or at least he hoped.

And so that’s how Alaric’s story would end. The villain defeated, the hero dead and the world saved. What a pity, isn’t it. Alaric would have liked to spend a few more days in the world at least, just to be with those he loved.

Another rumble sent him tumbling into a pile of rocks. He didn’t even get up, accepting his fate like the fool he was.

“So what of it, voice. Why ridicule me even now?” Alaric asked the narrator. Then a small light fell through the cracks of bricks in the black castle of Cataclsym. Alaric looked back up towards it, and sighed.

“My work is done. The hero doesn’t get to enjoy the victory, remember?” he said to the voice like a lunatic. Was that really something that he believed? Even now?

“Yes, I do.”

Then Alaric really was as foolish as he looked. Having learned nothing, he would spend his last remaining moments in a crumbling castle, rather than try at being with those he loved. Alaric looked around, then tried finding an excuse not to try.

“Too difficult anyway,” he said, as if he hadn’t survived odds worse than these before. It angered the narrator that Alaric would waste away like this, after everything that he had accomplished. It made him a fool beyond fools. An idiot that didn’t really care about those who were waiting for him RIGHT OUTSIDE.

“Maybe I am,” Alaric replied…but then he looked towards the crack in the sky. Why had Avi picked him? I can love whoever I want, she said. She didn’t really need a reason to love him, did she? So…did he need a reason to try living?

I rose from the rocks, looking at my surroundings. The vest would only weigh me down, so I took it off and brushed the blood away from my forehead. If I was going to make it out of here alive, I would do it the best way I could find.

I checked my magical reserved, a pittance left in there. But…it might be enough. I jumped on the next rock, a rough piece that gave me leverage to keep climbing. Behind me, the floor collapsed as the castle’s magic failed.

I began to climb faster, running over the rocks, through the halls where more bricks fell. A few hit me, but they didn’t deter my path. I would make it out of here alive. And once I did, I was going to marry that woman!

A pit opened up in front of me. Beyond it lay a shining light and a familiar sound I thought I wouldn’t hear.

“alaric…” someone shouted muffled from the other side. They pushed aside rocks and I saw the most beautiful of faces staring back at me. I smiled at her and she looked at me like I was a misbehaved child.

“You idiot! Get out of there now!” Avi said. She’d grown quite a temper after being in so many battles. But I could deal with the scolding I was about to receive after I survived. The foundation began crumbling faster, so I hastened my escape. Between platforms, that broke, I rose higher and higher. The light from the entrance brightened as more rocks were pulled out of the way. I began to laugh, I don’t know why. But then the final platform, my foot took place on it all wrong. I jumped hastily, Avi’s hand so close!

My magic was non-existent, I knew. But I tried anyway, and in a stroke of luck, or some other force, her hand extended just far enough to reach mine, and I hung over a large pit of some kind.

“Hahaha!” I laughed, though Avi didn’t find it funny at the moment. My body felt weightless as Avi infused it with her magic, letting me up easily.

Then I crawled through the small hole they’d made and landed on the other side. My body was covered in dust, I was coughing madly, and I never felt better! I opened up my eyes and found it greeted by four of the people I loved the most.

Avi was hugging me deep, suffocating me almost. Chancery patted the dust off of me and Lilina wiped tears from her eyes. Even Windle was there, with the world’s biggest smile plastered on his face. I smiled back at them, then stood up to look at the battlefield. Monster corpses could be seen just laying about.

Some of them had barely any scratches on them. “They must have been sustained by Cataclysm himself,” Windle noted.

“Venric.”

“Who?” Windle asked.

“Nevermind,” I told him. Soldiers were celebrating, singing in harsh voices and enjoying a drink. A company of them came up to our group with faces filled with happiness. They shouted a chant.

“ALL HAIL THE CHOSEN!”

“BLESSED BE THE CHOSEN!”

They sang as they carried our crew all the way to the festivities. Avi was right next to me, so I gave her a long and deep kiss. She blushed in response, though I’m sure it was just because of the publicity.

I admit it, I was broken. I never should have been Chosen. But even through Lansir dragged me into this quest, I felt I had to complete it. After he died, it became more of a responsibility than anything I wanted.

If I could kill Cataclysm, I could finally rest. Die in peace, if you will. But then I found more things to live for. It only took a while for me to understand what those were before I was willing to accept them.

If I’d ended it right there when Lansir had died, let someone else handle the responsibility of Chosen, I would have missed…too much. I’m glad I have the opportunity to live once more. And this time? I won’t squander it.