Epilogue: Etana
Etana grimaced as a fiery tongue of flame whipped dangerously close to her face, forcing her to react with blinding speed. With a sharp gesture, she removed the flame from existence, her heart pounding. The urge to scream at Haco, The First of the Watch, to maintain better control of her aspect bubbled within her, but Etana suspected she wouldn't care for her protests. Instead, she focused on the relentless slaughter of the encroaching creatures. The battlefield was a sprawling expanse of chaos and destruction, teeming with adversaries charging towards the city. Standing alongside Haco, Adir, Ann, and a few of Vina’s remaining guards, Etana felt a surge of fierce determination.
Adir was a force of nature amidst the chaos, his invulnerability definitively supernatural as he tore through the enemy ranks, his clothing hanging in tattered remnants from his formidable frame. Creatures swarmed him, clawing and biting, yet none could leave a mark. Perched atop his shoulders, Ann wielded her power with lethal elegance, her hands moving in graceful arcs as she caused creatures to disintegrate into nothingness, each burst of light reminiscent of her own Aspect of Removal. Despite their combined might, the creatures, a seemingly endless tide of malevolent shadows, pressed on, undeterred.
Haco, the embodiment of relentless resolve, commanded the frontline with brutal efficiency. Flares erupted from her hands, slicing through the air and exploding with deadly precision. The sight of The Lady First, standing defiantly against the horde, was a spectacle of sheer power that left Etana momentarily awed despite the chaos.
Fueled by a renewed anger at Stine’s betrayal, Etana pushed her Aspect of Removal to its very limits. She targeted the weaker creatures, dissolving them into pools of corrosive acid that hissed and seethed as they devoured the advancing horde. Amid the maelstrom of fire and acid, their combined efforts created a deadly symphony that slowed the enemy’s advance.
“We had a deal!” she shouted at a towering beast before bisecting it with a razor-sharp blade of compressed wind. “Leave Vina alone! Help me control these entities! Stop attacking Randar!”
A guttural shout rose from a nearby creature, its voice shrill and defiant. “Only Vina could help Trina.” Etana’s expression hardened, and she erased the creature from existence, her expenditure of divinity larger than she intended. “She can’t face Zel'alor on her own!” she yelled back, dousing the ground with acid, her vast reserves of divinity bolstered by the resources freed by Anomos.
“Probably not,” came Stine's voice, barely discernible above the cacophony of the battle, its tone laced with mockery.
“Stop talking to it!” Haco’s voice cut through the clamor, amplified by a skill that sent her words echoing across the field. She twisted her hand, directing a torrent of liquid flames to surge just ahead of Etana. “Get Vina’s guards out of here, then get your sister! She’s going to die if she keeps using divinity like that!”
Etana’s gaze snapped to Haco, surprised by the sudden concern in the woman’s tone. In that fleeting moment, her Aspect of Names activated involuntarily, flooding her with glimpses of Haco’s life. She saw Shan crushing Haco’s early dreams, the bitter feud that ignited her resolve, and the indomitable spirit that led her to forge The Twelve despite Shan’s reluctant endorsement. Each memory was a testament to Haco’s unwavering commitment to protect Palitern and Trina from The Darkness.
The onslaught of Haco's hundreds of years of memories overwhelmed Etana, forcing her to turn away as a searing headache pulsed behind her eyes. She stumbled, grappling with the painful deluge of another’s past. Amidst the chaos, a stark realization took root: Ann had been right all along. The Watch was necessary, and The Twelve, though flawed, were indispensable. The recognition of Haco’s sacrifices and her fierce devotion to their world stirred an unexpected respect within Etana, clashing violently with her own memories of Nil’s attack on her life.
Fighting back her inner turmoil, Etana refocused on the battle. She moved with renewed urgency, following Haco’s command. She transported Vina’s guards one by one to Randar’s refuge, her movements swift and unthinking, barely pausing to recognize their faces. Her attention then shifted to Adir, towering in the distance, Ann perched atop his shoulders like a steadfast sentinel. The bond between the two was palpable, and as Etana prepared to intervene, she saw flashes of Adir’s life, his unyielding love for his sister.
Etana arrived close by, cutting down the creatures that clawed at her path. “Rhys!” she screamed, using Adir’s true name to pierce through the chaos. “We need to get Ann to safety!”
Adir turned, his eyes narrowing in recognition. He pulled Ann down from his shoulders despite her protests, his grip firm but gentle. “Take her!” he urged, thrusting Ann into Etana’s arms.
The moment surprised Etana; Ann’s strength was hidden by her frail appearance, and she nearly broke free in her frantic attempt to return to Adir’s side. Etana lunged, catching her just in time. With a swift step, she transported them back to Randar, landing within a familiar inn room where she had once stayed.
“Take me back!” Ann shouted, her voice raw with desperation.
Etana’s expression hardened. “Haco and Adir ordered me to keep you safe!”
“She’s going to kill him if I’m not there!” Ann’s voice wavered, fear and fury mingling.
“He’s fighting The Darkness, Ann,” Etana said, her tone firm but laced with sympathy. “I don’t think she’ll attack him again. You need to rest. You’re exhausted.” She gently placed a hand on Ann’s shoulder, her touch softening. “Please... I don’t want to fight you anymore.” Etana’s memories of their past conflicts, each ultimately filled with regret, flickered painfully in her mind. She didn’t want to be another source of trauma for her sister.
Ann’s glare slowly softened, her resolve giving way to exhaustion. She sank onto the bed with a heavy sigh. “He saved me… you know? He was there for me…” Her voice trailed off, unable to fully articulate the bond she shared with Adir. “If you can see my memories, then you know how important he is.”
Etana sat down beside her, nodding slowly. “Life experiences, yes. I see it all. I know how much Rhys means to you.”
Ann chuckled weakly. “He doesn’t go by that name anymore. Just Adir.”
Etana’s mind drifted back to that fateful night when Adir had taken Ann from Termily, her feelings tangled between gratitude and guilt. “I can call him that. And I’m sorry, Ann, for that night we left Termily. I shouldn’t have pressured you into bonding with that aspect.” She glanced at the stone embedded in her sister’s forehead, a constant reminder of her own mistake.
Ann tilted her head, trying to glimpse the stone. “Did you just admit I was right? Seems a little late.”
Their laughter broke the tension, a brief respite in the storm of their lives. Ann pulled Etana into an embrace, squeezing tightly despite her fragile state. “Ow! You’re all bones,” Etana teased, smiling despite the worry gnawing at her.
Ann released her, a faint smirk on her lips. “Vina didn’t complain.
Etana’s smile lingered, though her thoughts darkened, knowing that Ann had no idea of Vina’s current suffering. “She cares too much to complain. We need to help her, Ann. I just hope she makes it back safely from Trina.”
Ann’s expression turned somber. “Stine lied to us, Adir and me. I still don’t understand why. It could have killed us, but instead, it helped get us to Randar. Did Stine attack Haco? What really happened?”
Etana sighed, her thoughts heavy. She had glimpsed the truth through the creatures’ life events. “Stine orchestrated the attack on Haco and Adir while we were away. Vina went back to Stralnar’s gloom, even though she hates Trina, to confront Zel’alor.”
Ann’s eyes widened. “So Trina is there? Why does she hate Trina?”
Etana touched the necklace around her neck thoughtfully. “Trina’s system nearly killed her, Ann. Vina barely survived, thanks to Carda’s intervention. That’s why she’s afraid.”
Ann gasped, the weight of Etana’s words sinking in. “Despite that she still returned an aspect to Trina.” Ann blinked as if realizing something, “See! I told you the twelve aren’t all bad!”
Etana nodded, a smile forming despite her fear of Nil. “I see that now. But Trina’s harboring dangerous entities, and I’m determined to imprison or destroy them. Maybe we can work with The Twelve, but I can’t trust Stine anymore.”
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Ann’s brow furrowed. “Neither can I. I don’t understand why it empowered me only to send me into battle.”
Silence settled between them, the room filled only with the distant sounds of the city. The weight of their shared burdens pressed upon them, and in that quiet, Etana saw how much had changed—and how much still needed to be done.
Exhausted from the emotional pains and the physical toll of recent events, Ann's eyelids began to droop. Her breaths deepened, steadying into the rhythm of sleep. The tension that had been etched into her features eased, giving way to a peaceful expression. Etana watched her sister, a protective and contemplative gaze in her eyes. She remained seated beside Ann, ensuring her comfort and safety.
After a while, assured that her sister was soundly asleep, Etana rose gently. With a deep breath, she prepared to step back into the fray, knowing well that the brief respite was just a calm before the storm. Her attempt to travel faltered, however, when a notification window appeared in her vision.
New World Quest: Stop, Vina
Seeing the world quest calling out her sister so directly was startling. Trina was talking directly to Vina through the quest system and whatever her sister was about to do, Trina very much disliked it. Deep concern filled Etana despite her fascination at witnessing a flicker of life in Trina not seen in hundreds of years. Knowing she couldn’t help anyone here, she tried to travel again.
Stepping out from the stillness of the inn room, Etana reemerged into a world gripped by chaos. The battlefield before her was a maelstrom of destruction, where Haco and Adir were fiercely combating an unrelenting tide of creatures. Flames whistled through the air and exploded as Haco wielded them with deadly precision, while Adir, exemplifying his title of Titan, used his formidable strength to thin the herd of their adversaries, slamming the ground and causing huge tears to split the world. Etana, her heart heavy with the weight of concern for Vina, joined the fray with renewed determination.
Before she could launch much of an attack, however, she felt the heat of flames at her back and immediately removed them, casting a glare to the side.
“Go to Trina!” Haco screamed at her in a volume far louder than she should have been able.
“I can’t! I’ve never been there!” Etana screamed back.
“Worthless!” Haco retorted, as she demolished a creature that charged at her head-on.
World Quest Failed: Stop, Vina.
Etana’s heart sank. Vina had defied Trina’s command. The implications were staggering. Had Vina really taken the aspects back? Could Trina be… dead? Etana’s mind raced, fear mixing with frustration. The refuge barriers remained, but the message was clear—Vina was acting on her own terms, and the world was watching.
In disappointment, Etana turned back to the battlefield. The battle, however, was turning against them. Despite their valiant efforts, Etana, Haco, and Adir were gradually being pushed back towards the imposing walls of Randar. The creatures, relentless and seemingly inexhaustible, pressed in from all sides. Just as their situation grew dire, the unexpected happened: the barrier from a nearby refuge surged forth, expanding rapidly over the walls of Randar.
World Quest Updated: Return the stolen Aspects 5/127
Like an invisible wave, it repelled the creatures, pushing them back and enveloping the defenders in a protective embrace. A sudden, eerie silence descended upon the battlefield, punctuating the end of the relentless onslaught.
Haco, breathless but resolute, turned to Etana. “Return to the refuge. Wait for Vina. She’s your priority now.”
Etana nodded, understanding the gravity of her task. With a final glance at the battlefield, now strangely tranquil in the barrier's protection, she traveled to the refuge, her mind churning with worry. But when she arrived, she found Riza, Caja, and Oyna waiting, their expressions grim.
“Where’s Vina? Is she back yet?!” Etana asked quickly, her eyes spotting the red blood staining Caja’s armor but especially evident on her hand. She immediately searched her name for the life events surrounding Vina and discovered it was her sister’s blood covering the woman.
Caja vocally confirmed what she saw, but Etana was barely listening as she discovered vastly more within Caja’s name than she expected. Beyond poisoning her sister, Caja’s life experiences were complex. Etana dug through her name, trying to understand everything she could.
“You just missed her,” Caja answered, her gaze not breaking away from Etana’s. “She’s gone.”
Riza stepped forward, giving Caja a glare. “Lady Esca, Vina instructed us to invite you back to Valanire. We’re waiting for a portal ring to be converted; it should be just a few hours before we can rejoin her. We were hoping Ann…”
Riza’s words faded into the background as Etana’s focus sharpened on Caja. Through the fractured glimpses of Caja’s life, Etana saw the intricate web of preparation and intent that had been woven long before Caja ever set foot on Palitern. Caja’s existence was driven by a singular purpose, far removed from the political games of The Watch, the deceptions of Stine, or the burdens of aspects. Her presence in this world was not a coincidence; it was a deliberate act of will, guided by a mission that allowed no room for failure.
Etana’s jaw tightened. The weight of the revelations pressed on her mind, the realization of just how dangerous this woman could be settling in like a cold stone in her chest. She couldn’t afford to let Caja’s true nature remain unchallenged—not around Vina, not with so much at stake. Interrupting Riza, she spoke sharply, her voice carrying a deliberate edge. “I can’t right now.”
Etana stepped closer to Caja, her words dripping with unspoken threat. “I know all about you. Are you going to hurt my sister again?”
Caja’s expression flickered with surprise, but Etana didn’t buy it for a second. She knew exactly how trained and calculating Caja was—how easily she could feign sincerity. “No! Of course not.” Caja insisted, but Etana could sense the careful crafting behind each word. “In fact I already made a life promise to both The Family and Riza personally that I would never harm Vina again.”
As soon as the words left Caja’s lips, Etana probed the truth of them, sifting through the life events that sprang into view. The promises were there, real and binding, yet they felt more like strategic moves in a larger game than genuine safeguards. To see Caja lock herself down with a sliver of truth amidst a nest of lies was both unsettling and, strangely, a small comfort. It reassured Etana in the most convoluted way—that, at least on this point, Vina’s safety was woven into the fabric of Caja’s manipulations.
Turning her gaze to Riza, Etana’s voice hardened. “Keep an eye on her.” She let the words hang in the air, laden with an unspoken warning, before stepping away. With a swift motion, she vanished from the refuge, returning to the inn where Ann was resting.
The innkeeper’s eyes followed Etana as she approached the counter, a mix of awe and unease at the sight of her bloodstained attire. Etana settled Ann’s room charges without comment, her mind still buzzing with the weight of what she had seen in Caja’s past. She arranged for a meal to be delivered when Ann woke—simple acts of care that grounded her amidst the turmoil. Yet, as she prepared to leave, she couldn’t resist the allure of the delicacies laid out nearby.
Her gaze lingered on the luminescent Tramina Fruit, its faint blue glow shimmering beneath the chef’s precise cuts. The plate was a masterful blend of textures and colors—thinly sliced Minap twitching slightly as if still alive, and a strip of starwood, charred to perfection, releasing an enticing aroma. For a moment, Etana felt the pull of her Aspect of Senses, tempting her to indulge in the experience fully. But she pushed the desire aside, focusing on the task ahead.
Stepping out into the unforgiving heat, Etana felt the scorch of the desert stone beneath her feet, the relentless sun pressing down on her like a weight. Her high health pool shielded her from the worst of the discomfort, but the Scar of Kanterne remained a desolate and hostile landscape—a stark reminder of the mysteries she had yet to unravel. As she descended into the subterranean labyrinth, the air grew cooler, and the faint hum of runes resonated around her, guiding her steps.
Etana’s eyes flickered over her notifications, noting the extensive use of her aspects and the absence of any real reliance on skills—a detail that hadn’t gone unnoticed by the system. But as she scrolled, a sudden gap in her attributes stopped her cold. Divinity was missing.
“Gone?!” she gasped, her voice echoing faintly in the narrow passage. Her divinity bar had vanished entirely, leaving her reeling. Panic clawed at her, but she forced herself to remain calm, experimenting quickly with the fruit on her plate. She reached out with her abilities, feeling the familiar tug of reality bending to her will. “Trina removed divinity from the system, but not from us,” she murmured, a mix of relief and dread settling over her. It was a calculated move, one that left her wondering just how far Trina’s control extended.
Etana continued her descent, passing great metallic chains adorned with runes that flickered and pulsed with every step. Each link seemed to reach out, touching her necklace as if testing her presence, reinforcing Trina’s stringent defenses against even the Aspect of Travel. “She really didn’t want anyone here,” Etana whispered, the silence of the labyrinth swallowing her words as she neared a platform glowing with blue runes, the chains hanging like sentinels.
The sealed metallic door loomed before her, barred by chains she knew would prevent her entry. But a small hatch offered a glimpse into the chamber beyond. The room was a sanctuary of light, carved from flawless blue stone that emitted a soft, shadowless glow. Within, an emaciated, bald man sat motionless, his eyes fixed on his hands. He had ignored her before, existing without life events, a void like Nil.
Determined, Etana slid a piece of the glowing Tramina fruit through the hatch. “Are you hungry?” she asked, her voice gentle but filled with quiet resolve. The fruit rolled across the smooth floor, coming to rest against the man’s hand. He picked it up, but rather than eat, he simply held it. In a flash of brilliant light, the fruit disintegrated into dust, and Etana watched as something extraordinary unfolded before her eyes—the birth of his first life experience. His name solidified and she read it aloud.
“Kanterne…” she whispered, awe and trepidation mingling in her voice. The chamber’s light seemed to dim in response, and for a moment, the silence felt alive, filled with the weight of untold stories and forgotten history.