People used to think Time was eternal—an unstoppable forward march with no hope of return. Memories of the past felt fleeting, each fragment an elusive nightmare. Yet, at this very moment, Yusciel stood before a broken airship, gazing at the Raining skies above. A thick veil of liquid shrouded the darkness beyond as droplets poured down. The scent of salt mingled with blood, awakening her senses, while millions of falling Raindrops sang a seductive lullaby. Her eyes narrowed, focusing on the reflection in the thick liquid—pale blue streaks and trails of bright light. Through it, she saw the World—their World, as it used to be. Rain was coming; it was coming to destroy their own.

Yusciel jerked in response to the throbbing pain intensifying in her left hand, accompanied by the unsettling sizzling noises from the Solaris crown she tightly gripped. The sensation of the salty waters lapping against her burning skin only added to her misery. Despite the searing pain, she knew she couldn't do anything about it unless she severed her left hand. Peering down at the regal gold crown shining with fiery brilliance, and the Red gemstone pulsating in sync with her heartbeat, she noticed her fingers weren’t even touching it, yet remained firmly locked in place. It seemed as though an unknown force prevented her from releasing her grip.

She swallowed, her throat dry and mouth tasting of salt. Time is running out, and soon the World will turn. Slowly, she turned around, taking in the sight of the airship now split in two. Chaotic wreckage surrounded her—metal chairs lay in pieces, shattered glass littered the ground, and lights flickering nonstop. With a deep breath, she began to walk, carefully navigating around sharp metal beams and broken wood blocking her path.

Yusciel entered through one of the doors that led her inside the airship, greeted by the wrecked corridor. At the end, she saw a hallway door with a wide opening, its metal doors wedged into walls and contorted. A faint presence beyond the walls pricked at her senses, urging her forward. 

Stepping onto a solid wood floor, she noticed crimson liquid trickling along the floor, mixing with violet and blue. Following the trail, she encountered blood splattered on the metal walls, and grotesquely severed humanoid shapes scattered about. Eyeballs rolled, a head stuck to the ceiling while their body hung below, and a familiar head laid on the floor. Rainwater leaked from the metal ceiling, splashing on the ground and leaving a trail in its wake. Yusciel narrowed her eyes, her jaw clenched.

‘Monsters? In this area? Have the corrupted lands of the Blight neared?’ Yusciel pondered. A mist enveloped her empty hand, shaping into a thin sword with a cold, wet blade that glinted with sharpness. 

As Yusciel approached the hallway door, she noticed the faint flickering of ceiling lights spilling into the corridor. With each flash, she caught sight of a dying Mordenbeast, its scales dark violet, tainted by the corrupting poison of the Blight Lands. The monster lacked any eyes, a giant maw extended with long tendrils like tentacles circling its entrance, each end glowing red and slowly dimming. Black smoke billowed from its mouth, filling the air with an acrid smell of burning flesh.

Despite having slain hundreds of these monsters, Yusciel shivered, unable to shake off the discomfort of being around one. Steeling herself, she cautiously entered the room, her gaze fixed on the dying Mordenbeast. She noticed faint glowing characters etched on the creature’s back limbs, where bone spikes protruded, and a gaping wound oozed violet blood. Examining the characters, she discerned the word ‘Sealed’ making her sigh in relief. ‘The Sage must still be alive,’ she thought, turning to take in the vast expanse of the room.

The room was a scene of chaotic destruction from the crash, just as Yusciel had expected. As she surveyed the wreckage, her eyes locked onto a glowing crystal staff, tightly clutched by a man sitting on the stairs of a raised platform ahead.

Instinctively, Yusciel released her sword, letting it dissolve into mist as she advanced. Questions raced through her mind: 'The Sage is here. But where is the King? Where is everyone else?' Her gaze swept the area, searching for any other signs of life.

The burly figure sat upright, legs extended in a deceptively relaxed manner. Yusciel's attention was drawn to the Lunaris Crown resting on his left hand, causing his limb to become translucent with shimmering light blue outlines. He appeared on the verge of dozing off, Yusciel breathed a sigh of relief upon noting that he did not seem to be severely injured.

Yusciel knelt in front of him, gently patting his shoulders to wake him as he jolted in response. As he woke up with a deep, loud breath, he turned to her and spoke, “Yusciel… You arrived… You seem fine… Did your team manage to make the Solaris Crown?”

She extended her bare left hand, the skin constantly turning black but healing quickly. “Here,” Yusciel responded, “My team unfortunately turned to ashes during the process.”

The Sage coughed, his voice husky as he replied, “Indeed, I expected as much. The Death of God Sol—Too much for a mortal, so it was to be expected. We also suffered losses; only King Frederick  and I survived.”

Yusciel grimaced, her voice trembling as her eyes fell to the ground, her knees weakening and slumping on the floor. “Wha-What do we do now, Dhjver? Without Saint Billiaris, who will bear the Aeviternus Crown? We are running out of time… The Rain is here—there are no Lands in the World we can escape.”

“Listen carefully, Yusciel,” the Sage muttered, fixing his posture as he leaned forward. “Sever my left hand from the Crown and place the Lunaris Crown upon my head.”

Yusciel's eyes widened, a glare forming. “Do you understand what that implies?”

“Very much so,” a depraved smile crept onto the Sage’s face. “There is not enough time in the World to combine the Crowns; this decision was made between Frederick  and myself. You must place both Crowns upon our heads.”

Yusciel bit her lip. “You mentioned that the First bearers of these Crowns will immediately meet their end,” Yusciel voiced her concern. “When the World Turns and we return to the past, you and the King will have these Crowns… You will perish—you will perish without knowing why.”

“Yes… we know.”

Yusciel's voice trembled as she spoke, her eyes filled with concern. “The disciples you will teach… It will never happen again, will never occur after the World Turns,” she said gravely. “What if… What if we just let the Rain consume all of us? And start all over again—”

“Yusciel… We know… we considered. And this is the decision,” the sage interrupted. 

Yusciel scrutinized him, frustration evident on her face. She bit her lip until a crimson trickle of blood appeared, then sighed, “Fine,” before standing up and glancing down to see the sage smiling. 

“Thank you,” he said.

Yusciel reached out into the air, clutching as a sword materialized in her grip with the mist appearing. With swift and precise motion, she slashed the Sage’s arm, causing it to fall to the ground with a resounding thud, accompanied by the shattering sounds of crystal. His translucent hand vanished, leaving only the Lunaris crown behind. Yusciel exchanged her sword for the Crown, immediately feeling a chilling cold seep into her bones, turning her skin icy before becoming translucent.

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

“Erk!” Yusciel gasped in pain, gritting her teeth as deathly cold pierced into her right hand.

“As expected of a Demi-God’s body, I truly envy the inherent talents of Loxciana Familia to acquire and use different forms than their own,” the Sage remarked.

“Are you absolutely certain about this?” Yusciel questioned.

A gust of air escaped through the Sage’s nose. “Yes… Unlike myself… Unlike Frederick … You have seen the eye of the Rain. I trust that you, along with Rojas and Margaret, will lead the people towards a brighter future. I believe in that…”

Yusciel nodded and smiled, taking a deep breath as she looked at the two crowns occupying her hands. The Solaris Crown, in golden form with a red soul gemstone, adorned one of the decorative spikes. The Lunaris crown, in pristine white with a blue soul gemstone, rested in similar places. Holding her breath, Yusciel carefully placed the Lunaris crown on the Sage’s head. 

The Crown fit perfectly, the gripping force vanished, taking her entire right hand with it. She bowed deeply, placing her remaining hand next to her chest. “Sage Dhjver, I, commander of the Last Bastion, thank you for your dedicated service to the Remnants. The memory of you will be carried after the World Turning and onward the future,” she vowed. When she lifted her head, the Sage had disappeared without a trace.

A sudden clap echoed through the room, and Yusciel turned to see the King approaching from the entrance, looking healthy and whole. Despite their kingdom having fallen into the Blight lands, he still held himself with royal posture, commanding and young. Yusciel instinctively bowed her head as she greeted him, “Greetings, Your Majesty.”

"Commander, commander—forget the formalities. In this dying world, with the lands devoid of life, what use is our status when we are the last ones that remain?" The King scoffed, shrugging his shoulders. Despite all the time that had passed since their journey prolonging the eventual fate, he never seemed to age, even as a century had gone by.

Yusciel raised her head, about to speak but was quickly interrupted by the King. “Ah, right. Before we begin the coronation of this… dead God’s… soul—onto my head… Can I ask for a favor.”

She slightly tilted her head, saying, “Please, go ahead.”

“Earlier, Dhjver and I had a little guessing game. He wagered his 70-year-old red wine that you—instead of placing the crown—you will run away with both crowns… However, he underestimates the depth of your patriotism for the future of the Remnants. I ask of you—that when the World Turns, take his red wine from his room in the Monsil Towers to my grave. And if you can, if at all possible, place it beside on my deathbed, in my coffin.”

Yusciel’s eyes narrowed, and sighed, “Yes… Your majesty.”

The King smiled in response. “That being said, if I had the opportunity to pen my final words—my last wishes for my brother, my people, the councilors—should I also extend a gesture to you? A title, a position that could aid you after the World Turns?”

“To help me, you say…” Yusciel repeated, her eyes falling to the ground as she pondered. “I can’t think of anything. Oh, wait. Once you… Once you come to your eternal rest—The Solaris Crown will be passed among your bloodkin. Grant me the autonomy to serve whoever has the Solaris Crown, a role that won’t impede my duties. Wait… Hold on,” Yusciel interjected, a quizzical expression forming. “I have never heard you had seen the Eye of the Rain, how will you remember this World after the Turning?”

A wide smile crossed the King’s face. “There is a reason why we were born as the royals…” he nodded. “But, granted, if you’d like, I can suggest that you become engaged to one of my daughters—take what you find suitable from the three.”

Yusciel jolted. “Excuse me? But… But I am lady, Your Majesty.”

“You say that because the body you currently inhabit is female…” He stated. “Didn’t you mention in the past that you were male originally?”

Yusciel grinned. “Ah, this again?”

“Tell me, Yusciel,” the King urged, “What defines you? Are you the one who wields the sword, or the one who sheathes it?”

“Who can truly say? Am I male or female, Your Majesty?”

“If you persist with this, I won’t be able to properly arrange any marriages for you—be it wives or husbands,” The King sighed, his expression faltering.

“This is precisely why I’ve kept it hidden. If not for this secrecy, you and I might have been betrothed, and I have no desire to wed someone a century my senior,” Yusciel expressed.

“Is that so? I was unaware,” The King murmured, running his fingers to his chin in deep thought. “Very well, I respect your decision. Now, would you place the Crown on my head?” he suggested, kneeling before her.

Yusciel nodded, holding her breath, carefully fitting the Solaris Crown on the King’s head. As before, her hands turned to ashes as soon as the Crown was firmly in place upon the King’s golden hair. Bowing in respect, she murmured, “King Frederick, I, commander of the Last Bastion, thank you for your unwavering rule to the Remnants. I will carry the memory of you after the World Turning and into the future.”

As Yusciel raised her head, only ashes scattered on the floor, confirming her fears. A sense of overwhelming emptiness washed over her, causing her to collapse to her knees. Her arms had vanished, showing no signs of regeneration despite her demi-God body. A single tear escaped her eye before her head fell to the cold ground.

Despair gripped her heart, echoing in the emptiness of her being, “What now? I am the last one left in this World.”

She held her breath, straightening her posture to survey the surroundings. The sounds of the Rain outside grew louder, blending with the eerie echoes of water leaking in the darkness of the room. Her heart sank, teeth gritting as a sudden realization struck her. “Should I bear witness to the end of this World?”

She nodded, mustering up the strength to stand and navigate back through the broken corridors, carefully stepping around the debris and body parts scattered about. Finally reaching the outside, the Rain patter gently on her face as the cold air enveloped her. Looking up, Yusciel noticed the once thick liquid veil had turned gray, and the streaks of bright light had shifted to a deep red.

‘What does that supposed to mean?’ Yusciel wondered as she moved away from the airship towards the open space next to the ground, which had transformed into a small hill from the crash. Suddenly, the ground trembled, the sounds of metal bending, followed by a loud rumble echoed from the distance, causing Yusciel to turn and gaze at the distance being torn apart, with pieces of it slowly ascending into the skies. Even the monsters corrupted by the blight were being lifted up to the sky. 

Yusciel witnessed this sight again—the sight where the World was being destroyed by the Rain. The Rain is here, and it will be the end of everything.

“How ironic,” Yusciel muttered, tasting the salt from the Rain. “I was among the first to witness the start of the Rain, and now I will witness its finale.”

Suddenly, the Rain froze. Droplets hung suspended in mid-air, their patter silenced. Then, in an instant, everything changed; the Rain began falling back toward the sky. Yusciel felt her weight shift as she watched her surroundings being pulled upward. Grass, leaves, and loose debris lifted around her. She braced herself, feeling the ground beneath her feet grow lighter. As the upward force intensified, Yusciel kicked off, propelling herself further into the inverted descent.

Leaping onto metal debris racing skyward, Yusciel jumped from one floating platform to another with fluid grace. The bodies of the Remnants rushed past her vision as she defied being swallowed by the force pulling her to the skies.

Loud cracks echoed as the ground split into countless pieces. Yusciel readied herself, jumping into the void as she found herself suspended in midair, slowly rising toward the heavens. She picked up her pace as she landed the trunks on the tree, leaping and running on walls of stone another as mountains of earth, ripped from below, turned skyward. 

Even rare crystalline formations flashed by as she bounded onward. Balls of fiery magma cooled and darkened, transforming into globules of water. For what seemed like hours of relentless movement, Yusciel finally leaped from the final platform.

She was the last one. 

The World she once had stepped and grown had become an abyssal void, and she continued her slow ascent into the sky.

Gliding in the air, Yusciel watched as the mountains of land below were consumed by a thick, dark liquid. She was falling upward alongside the droplets of Rain—the same Rain that had taken everything from the World.