Chapter 15
The Bane
A flood of shadows erupted, the crystal bursting into the air. Terrill fell back onto Lumen, and Krysta on top of him. Those crystal trails that decorated the walls began to vanish into powder, imperceptible on the air. Inside the room, a high-pitched keening began, the undulating darkness screaming as it began to disappear. The resultant pressure pushed their group away, trundling towards the walls. That same pressure resulted in the dark power gushing outwards in an overwhelming wave, one that caught Terrill in it, sending him to a dark abyss with Lumen and Krysta beside him.
It remained for but a moment, but in that time, Terrill felt emotion wash over him. From joy to elation to fear and despair, the expulsion of souls from the Lifeblood was a primal form of emotion in the darkness. Whether it was all those who could have been Blessed, or just older souls that were part of the flow, Terrill couldn’t imagine, but when it ended, the gravity of the choice they had just made resonated.
The halls of the Abyssal Palace grew quiet; a solitary second in which no one breathed.
Where the Lifeblood once stood was a hanging light, and something like chains around it. Terrill sat up, holding to Krysta as her breaths turned to pants, watching as the chains broke apart into light. The light, evident as a soul, tried to create a form, but evidently could not. No body remained for it, and no vessel. Krysta stared at it. Then, it disappeared into the ether, rejoining the flow of the world, rather than managing it. Krysta had been successful, and with it brought other problems.
It started as a small whirring, before picking up in pitch and volume. Torry and Floyd covered each other’s ears, while many others that remained in the room hunkered down in hopes of blocking out the noise. With it came a tremor that rocked the foundation of the world, the walls of the Abyssal Palace threatening to crack off its hinges, as though a tornado was manifesting to carry it away. Terrill could only guess what was going on outside, but he had an idea when Krysta clutched to her chest.
“It’s calling… Their pain…” Terrill steadied her body, which was getting ever colder. “The Lifebloods are taking on the burden, and it’s hurting them.”
“Did we make a mistake?”
“No. This was the only way to do this. Now we just need to…kill him before they give out. As long as I’m around, the loss of the darkness won’t break the barrier between the worlds.”
“But those others would,” Lumen said, pushing to a stand as he looked through the haze of shadow to find whatever it was he was looking for. He soon voiced that. “Did it work, though?”
Terrill joined him in trying to part the shadows with his eyes. The groans of his companions told him they were fine, but Terrill sought a place beyond where the light of the Lifeblood once rested, and soon found the five silhouettes, with four standing and one on their knees. Terrill came to a stand, and with Lumen, the duo walked forward to get as close a look as they deemed safe.
“My King!” Blaise was saying as they got closer. Part of his voice carried worry, but the other was annoyance. No other Fiend said a word, but they became visible when more of the dark ash trickled away, deeper into the rest of the palace, leaving the group exposed. As he could have guessed, Golbrucht was the one on his knees, gasping for breath.
“My power… My Lifeblood…” Golbrucht’s gasps caused him to slip further, to the point of nearly passing out at the loss of his very life source. Terrill looked to the Fiends, wondering if they were free of his control. That proved to be the opposite of the case, for when Golbrucht found enough strength to flex his fingers, the strings he had grown accustomed to seeing had been created. “I still have it…my Soul Magic. I’m still a Fiend…”
“And how would you know that?” Winifred scoffed. Her eyes found Terrill’s, and he was unsure of the move she would make. Would she attack to defend Golbrucht all the same, or wait in the result of the shattered Lifeblood? The Palace shook again, this time glowing hot, like a volcano had been created beneath them.
Golbrucht finally gave his answer, looking to where Terrill, Lumen and Krysta were gathered. “Because I can still see her soul.”
“M-mine?” Krysta’s gasp, half from shock and half from exertion, baffled Terrill for a moment, unable to know who he should be watching. His companion soon elucidated things, coming to stand while Golbrucht attempted to do the same. “How can you…see my soul? That shouldn’t be possible!”
“We told you! Fiends exist outside the governing laws of this world, for we are simultaneously body and soul! Now, I will attach to you as my new life source!”
If Golbrucht had been wounded by the loss of his Lifeblood, he was desperate to not show any of it. Leaving his Fiends behind, Golbrucht’s eyes flashed a deeper red and he ran for Krysta. Terrill and Lumen stepped center to stop him, but a flood rose at their feet. He cursed at forgetting about the other Fiends.
Warren clapped his hands and separated them, creating waves that pushed Terrill and Lumen apart, back to the ground. Charles ran for Lumen, but it was too late to stop Golbrucht as he reached Krysta, the woman summoning her blade, only for one of pure darkness to sever it in feral rage. The Fiend’s hand extended, the thin, wiry strands that were fading in color stretching from his fingertips for Krysta. She held her crystal hand out for what measure of good it could do, and the two collided.
The strings were the ones that snapped, sending Golbrucht rolling backwards.
Krysta, too, recoiled. Terrill expected her to look relieved, but instead found a troubled expression on her face, though it was nothing on Golbrucht’s. Atrum’s own features were twisted to match whatever the Fiend was feeling, like a mix between betrayal, surprise and, somewhere deep within, a dawning realization.
“Sealed?” he barked out, asking no one. “Your soul is sealed inside the vessel. That should be…”
“…impossible,” Krysta finished, looking as disturbed as the Fiend.
Not for long, though, as Golbrucht began to laugh, starting as a low chortle before erupting into a menacing cackle that filled the halls of the Palace, even as another wicked tremor tried to bring it crumbling down. “But not for him.”
“The old man?” Blaise grunted, stepping forward to place a hand upon Golbrucht. “He has long kept watch over the cycle of souls.”
“Yes, he has,” Golbrucht said, a leer stretching Atrum’s face. Krysta stepped back from him, but Golbrucht no longer pursued her. “He will have long sealed them away. It is no wonder I’ve been unable to draw the other Lifebloods to me, as he keeps them in check, even while the world rips itself apart. He’s keeping Adversa alive until his most opportune moment!”
“Then what are we waiting here for?” Warren asked of his leader.
“For us to kick your asses!” Floyd came out of nowhere, his fiery kick going right for Golbrucht’s face. The Fiend turned, creating his own black flame, reminiscent of Blaise’s, to counter Floyd, but Torry had joined in on his sudden plan, arrows of ice summoned in the air to rain down upon their opponent. This one was deflected by Winifred, and Terrill could see the strings Golbrucht used to tie himself to her…leaving his own body inert.
He wasn’t close enough to mount an assault, but Walter was, and with a quick jerk of his head, the hunter ran into position. Walter created his own wind, canceling Winifred’s out, and brought his spear down towards Golbrucht until a slab of earth knocked into him and sent him spiraling backwards. He landed on his feet. Golbrucht chuckled.
“Why, Clay, I thought you’d come here to kill me?”
“I told you, our interests aligned, though it would appear now to be of little import. Shatter light and dark, or just the elements that spawn from them, Adversa will disappear, the soul fused to the body all the same.”
“So, you’ll let me go? How kind of you,” Golbrucht said with a further chuckle. Clay scoffed, but did little to aid or impede him.
“The old man is my enemy, too.”
“And so are we!” Terrill shouted, punching the air. Stone javelins appeared, each of them flying for Golbrucht. With a snap of his fingers, the strings of his soul stopped Terrill’s magical attack, pulling on his own energy, and Terrill could feel himself slipping. Still, he bit his tongue and continued on. “We won’t let you destroy Adversa and all those souls. We won’t force them to become just like you.”
“Then you consign yourself to fate and the old man’s designs. I will be bound no longer!” Whirling his hands around, Terrill felt a tug on his own power, watching as his stonework was turned against him and thrown back. He acted quickly, stopping the lances from tearing him through with a shield that he leapt over. One of the lances remained, and with the strength he had, Terrill kicked it, sending it sailing back.
“Sorry, Atrum! This is gonna hurt!”
“Not a-” Golbrucht’s body froze, his eye color changing back and forth rapidly. The call of his body’s name, and the loss of the Lifeblood, had effected a new change, one beyond the Fiend’s control. Unable to counter, the javelin ripped through the side of Atrum’s abdomen, causing the Fiend to scream out. It also allowed him to regain control, punching the wound bleeding black, though Terrill was unable to conclude if it was blood or shadow. “Hahh…gah…”
“We’re not going to let you destroy the other Lifebloods.” Golbrucht leveled a glare of pure hatred at Terrill. “We won’t let you dictate their fates.”
“You can try, Terrill Jacobs. But all souls will meet the same end unless I act. Unless we act, Lumen.” Lumen scowled at the call, yet made no move to act against Golbrucht. “Clay, as we’re on the same side, do take care of them, but leave Lumen alive. I’ll need his body before this is all over.”
“A concession I’m willing to make, if you’ll be going after the old man.”
“Yes, to Priscus. Everything needed is waiting there.” Golbrucht smirked, his Fiends coming to surround him. Terrill planted his feet, and the shuffling noises behind him indicated that the rest of his companions were coming to join him, standing strong.
All the heroes.
All the Fiends.
“Final round of the game. Goodbye, Terrill Jacobs.” What little power there was left of darkness in the place wrapped around Golbrucht and three of his Fiends, whisking them away to the place Terrill had been seeking, the chilling farewell left in the air.
All that remained was Clay, his low chuckle interrupted only by the swinging of his axe.
“Whether it is decreed or ordained, I care little,” the Fiend said. He raised his weapon high above, and all seven opposing him prepared for the first blow to be struck in the battle. “Today is the day you all die. Now, quiver and cower, as you face a power beyond comprehension. Break!”
The axe descended for not a single one of them, but the ground upon which they all stood. It cleaved into the stone and split it in two, then into many more pieces. The floor they were standing on lost its solid state, becoming a tsunami of rubble that washed towards the walls, a light of destructive magic power surging from the center. Clay was unaffected, standing in his radius of destruction while his bones clacked. He was done with hinting and playing around. Clay was determined to put an end to the battle here.
Terrill knew he would have to be, too.
As his companions floundered and attempted to regain their balance on the chopped stones, Terrill found his footing, turning the scattered stones to solid ground. It formed the shape of a smooth pillar that rode across the ground for Clay. Terrill leapt atop it, his fists crusting over with stone. When the two were about to collide, Clay’s axe tore the stone apart like paper, and Terrill leapt upwards, smashing his fist upon the Fiend’s face, before using his other hand to call more stone lances to batter the skeletal enemy before him. The Fiend whirled his axe around, breaking the paltry spell before catching Terrill with the shaft and tossing him to the side. The Guardian hit the broken ground, every bump sure to cause a bruise as he came to a stop. The only boon was that his discarded sword was there, and he grabbed it, looking up in time to see that his start to the assault had not been in vain.
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Walter and Charles had entered the fray from opposite sides. Borne in the air, Walter’s air thrusts had permitted him to reach above Clay and jab down, while Charles’s twin blades were crossed in front of him to slice through the Fiend’s bony structure. If Clay had had a tongue in that moment, he would have clicked it, dropping his axe. The two men reached him, and with a small click of his bones, the earth surged, knocking them both in the stomach and stopping their assault. It came to a further end when Clay grabbed both by their heads, the strength of his bones incredible.
“Weak.” His body spun, his robe flaring out, and Clay tossed them together towards a wall. His fingers flexed as they struck the surface, sliding down on top of one another. With that, his axe vanished, reappearing in his hands with a flash of stone. “Look how uncoordinated you are. Is this all you can muster against we Fiends? Corrosive Earth.”
Terrill pulled himself up, only to watch as from underfoot emerged dark red vines, thick as a tree, sprouting smaller ones. Each shot off in a different direction, for each of Terrill’s scattered party. One came for him, too, and both hands on his sword, he swung hard enough to cleave through it. Charles did the same, protecting Walter, who looked at up at him, while Krysta and Lumen came together with a spherical shield that the vine broke off of.
It was Floyd who moved the fastest, his fires around his body cutting into the vine that threatened to destroy him and Torry. He had no words for Clay, a fact that proved how seriously he was taking the renewed battle, and she was just the same. Hoping to avoid another blistering attack from the Fiend, the couple joined hands, showing no need to recite an incantation. Just a spell. “Sol Blaze!”
The combined flames became a meteor of such heat and intensity that Terrill began to sweat, soaking through his shirt in mere moments before the orb was even fired. Once it was, it streaked through the air with such a speed that even Clay’s axe could not hope to cleave it. Terrill took that moment before the brightness eclipsed the palace to look for Lumen and Krysta, who had dropped their shield. All three nodded, and ran for the Fiend as the blaze struck him head-on, creating a column of flame around Clay that melted at the stone.
“Go!” Terrill shouted, catapulting forward to touch to the ground. It sent his magic over to the pair of light, giving them transportation in the form of moving stone to land another blow on Clay before he could recover. Their swords were bared, shining with light, and as they thrust forward, rays shot out with full intensity.
Terrill couldn’t see Clay through the flames and the blinding light, but both attacks mattered little. With another mighty swing resulting in a plume of earth, the flames were doused and the light was stopped. Clay’s already tattered robe was burning, his bones charred to black, and when the joints curled in, more vines shot out, these thinner than the last. Krysta tried to stop them with a shield, but her immobile arm was ensnared first, and then the rest of her limbs. The same happened to Lumen alongside her as both were carried to the walls where the vines pinned them in. They weren’t the only ones to move, as more vines were created with every step Clay took towards the ones he contained. Terrill growled and slashed at a pair of vines that he knew existed solely to keep them busy.
“Look at you all. You’re so determined to solve this on your own,” Clay said with a booming voice. “The Chosen One, who accepts his role and burden. The Light who believes only she can save everyone. The Hunter who would gladly end the world if it served his own selfish aims. The Puppet who danced for so long on someone else’s strings, all he can be now is a sword. The Researcher who is too caught up in getting caught up and her lovable Fool, who allowed a war to begin but for his own desires. Each of you, an uncoordinated mess. Not Heroes, but just people who happened to be Blessed. You exhibit the worst in humanity, which will be proven when we sever the flow. Let us begin with your soul, my dear Lifeblood! Rejoin the flow you created!”
The axe descended, gleaming with red fury, the power of earth pulsing through it. Terrill pushed himself off the ground, a stone step accelerating him forward while Floyd blitzed in with steaming body. Torry aimed a spell, and Walter jumped through the air. Where she was trapped, Krysta dispersed his rapier and formed it once more, cutting at the vines, but they reformed. More tried to get in Terrill’s way, but he hacked away at them, lunging forth as the axe made its final approach.
He just managed to get his sword in, and Floyd was right alongside him, his daggers crossed to hold off the massive cleaver. Torry’s windy lance struck Clay, causing him to grunt and break off. Terrill pushed up, managing to unbalance the Fiend, while Walter tossed his spear down. This pierced through the top of Clay’s skull, but other than cracking a piece off, only served to anger him. He punched the air, and the vines hardened before striking the defenseless Walter and sending him to the ground. Terrill engaged Clay, each foot forward becoming a signal for the earth to create a new step and shield behind him. Floyd blazed through, eliminating the vines around Krysta and Lumen as he went.
“Enough, Terrill! Go for the kill!” Clay shouted. His second bony hand gripped to his axe and he heaved it at Terrill with all the strength he could put behind it. Terrill met him, both hands on his sword, and they collided. As it had in the courtroom, the earth cracked in the wake of their magical energies colliding. Clay’s skull approached, his teeth twisting in spite of the lack of muscle or sinew. “You’ll never stop them unless you can manage that. You need to let go of morals, and this belief you can save everyone. Consider Atrum a lost cause. Consider Winifred dead. You’ll never succeed unless you stop playing defensive!”
Terrill stepped back, forced onto the defensive himself. Every blow smarted, the axe showing much more weight behind the Fiend’s blows. As Terrill found a small groove to balance himself against, Clay made his mightiest move yet, one which lifted Terrill off the ground and sent him flying towards the ceiling. Terrill’s magical energies reached for the ceiling to soften the blow, just barely, and the second he hit it, he fell down, right to Floyd and Walter, who caught him.
It made Clay miss Charles, flashing through the darkness as his own body became like shadow, melting towards the ground. “Then I shall do the honors where Terrill cannot.”
“Guah?” Clay’s question became a sudden gasp of pain as Charles’s twin blades sliced up, straight through the ribcage. Bones clattered to the ground, crumbling to pieces like stones, and Clay gripped for the area that was damaged. Terrill’s eyes widened: Clay had been wounded. His body shook, the bones rattling before the Fiend let loose a cry.
Terrill could feel the magical energy before it erupted, tearing at the ground. His hand reached out with Floyd and Walter, grabbing for any piece of stone that had not been torn away. Torry did the same, crawling along to retain purchase on the floor. Krysta and Lumen were on their knees, gasping in breaths, but unable to stop their bodies from flopping in the wake of the immense power.
Soon, even their footholds disappeared, much of the room turning to rubble. A giant fissure formed along the ceiling, the Palace, itself, threatening to break apart in its entirety. Walter and Floyd were forced to let go, the former using wind to try and stabilize them until the aura died down. In the center of the devastation remained Clay, growling and yanking his axe from the ground.
“Is that what you believe you can do, puppet?” Clay’s voice had turned away from the mocking guidance he had provided thus far. “You think you can work together and make up for what the other lacks? Unification does not last. It is not sustainable. In time, humanity turns to selfish, base desires. And why shouldn’t they? Against a force who will kill and destroy, you need to be as ruthless as them. As I am.”
“Is that…that what you think?” Terrill asked. He took stock of the situation around the room, as well as the open ceiling, where a droplet of rain hit his face. A storm was starting outside, flashes of lightning illuminating Clay’s form, as well as those of his companions, strewn about and groaning. Only Terrill managed to plant his blade in the loose dirt that remained to pull himself up. “Because…I don’t believe in that. I think…you lost your way.”
“No, I found it. The path to put an end to the conflict I was meant to.” The rain increased, pouring upon all of them and making the ground turn to mud. Clay looked up, the water falling down his figure, splattering on the ground. “You see us as people, but we are not. We are Fiends. Monsters. In order to defeat us, you must sink to our level. I needed to, just as I needed to be equally crafty in order to defeat Golbrucht, and the old man.
“Unity and understanding have no place in a battle where all must be given, including your own morals. That is what it takes to defeat Fiends and the fate that drives them! Shackles them and all of us!”
The peal of thunder accompanied his declaration, one to which no one responded. Terrill grunted, his hands slipping on his hilt, and he pulled up. His body was ready to pitch over, but he remained standing, enough to raise his blade in the Fiend’s direction. Clay regarded him with a tilted head, the two earth-users confronting each other beneath the rain.
“You’re wrong, Clay, or whatever your name is. You’re wrong.”
“Saying it twice does not make it reality, Terrill.”
“Then I’ll say it seven times. One for each of us. One for each person here who’s not alone. One for each person who’s willing to fight fate…but not through sacrificing lives or morals,” Terrill said. He took a step forward, and the earth moved with him. His stance became solid, and the rest of his companions… No, his friends, began to stand. Their battle wasn’t over. They wouldn’t let the Fiends win like this. “We’re not like you, Clay. We don’t let ourselves be shackled to the point we need to destroy everything to fix it. We just need to save others, one soul at a time. That’s an oath I’ll take as a Guardian, and I’ll keep it.”
“And how long do you think that alliance will last? Even my own with Winifred only went so far. Each of you has a different goal! What reason do any of you have to even fight and destroy Golbrucht?!”
His shout was accompanied by his palm thrusting forth, the red-tainted earth firing from the walls in beams, all set upon Terrill. In response, he did the same, the two holding their ground as their stones collided against one another and exploded in a blast of rubble. Neither was pushed back, but Terrill wasn’t done.
Neither was Floyd, who came surfing in on a piece of earth that Terrill made move. Torry was the same, a giant scythe of ice formed in her hands. Clay’s eyes flicked between them, unable to decide his target. He missed his window to counter. Torry’s scythe sliced down, breaking with the force of a steel rod, while Floyd’s flames fanned out as wings behind him, before becoming a conflagration that seared through what bones of Clay’s were not charred.
“There’s a pretty obvious reason for us that you’re missing, buddy!” Floyd growled out as Clay staggered from the flames consuming his ribcage. “We’re all part of this world!”
“And we don’t think it should be ruled by people as cruel as Golbrucht!” Walter had screamed those words, he and Charles following with their own pincer attack. Their bodies were covered in rotating shields of wind, and Terrill propelled them higher the earth. This one, Clay acted against, his axe cracking in two to become one-handed, and blocking their blows. They refused to relent and the earth beneath Clay’s feet began to sink from the pressure exerted. “There’s been enough cruelty, and we’ll not allow it to continue.”
“Yes, and those selfish reasons…they all point to the same place: stopping him.”
“Sophistry!” Clay whirled his axes around, tossing the men off. It provided Terrill and Torry their own opportunity.
“Gaian Cage!” they cried, sparks traveling along the ground. The bottom of the room caved in, creating a giant stone cage around Clay, like a kiln, set to fire him. Floyd had no problem doing the honors. With a snap of his fingers, his own spark joined the mix, borne forth by Walter’s gust that caused the fireball to grow larger and larger until it hit the center. Clay tried to use his axes as a defense, but the mix of the two caused it to explode on impact.
Scorching heat washed over them all, the cage broken up and shattering on the wind as if it was made of flimsy material than the stone it actually was. The rain evaporated, leaving a mist to roll over the area that turned to steam. Terrill held his arm up, hoping it would shield him from the blast and the bright light that resulted from it. Hoping that Clay had been completely incinerated within it.
That very thought was a hopeless dream.
“A unity built on such selfish principles does not last! And one cannot succeed alone!” Clay’s burning bones emerged from the flames, his cloak now reduced to ashes, the embers clinging to his skeletal form. Parts broke off, melting to the ground, and with what he could, the Fiend hurled one of the axes Terrill’s way. He deflected it, but the feint was successful, and he ran for Krysta and Lumen. “That is a lack of foresight to see this to the end!”
“Like Terrill said: you’re wrong, Fiend,” Krysta retorted. Lumen stood next to her, protecting her, and for the briefest of seconds, that seed of Golbrucht in his mind caused Clay to hesitate. “The end has stopped mattering, because we have the will to change it.”
“And we’re not alone,” Lumen confirmed. The two light-users raised their hands, and Terrill grinned at the blade that sprouted forth of beautiful luminescence. Clay, too, was mesmerized by it.
“Your absence of soul…gave you this?” They were all he could ask before the pair sent their light shuddering down, devouring Clay’s figure.
He was forced back, battling against the light, and unable to see the darkness coming his way. Terrill watched as Charles came through, Walter’s wind supporting him, his blades whirling as though it was a singular double-bladed weapon. The skeleton managed to turn for all of a second, before the older man slashed through, splitting Clay’s bones right down the middle.
“We make up for what the other lacks. Just as I will do what must be done, if Terrill will not,” the older Guardian spoke to the Fiend, his swords coming apart. “And Terrill will guide us where my darkness cannot see a path. But that is a path nothing can illuminate for you, Fiend. Farewell. Fall to the abyss you created.”
The shadow bloomed high, coming from every single piece of Clay’s broken bones. They were spewing mud, and in some places, his body was flesh again. The wound, however, remained.
“Hah…ahahaha…” The Fiend could not contain his laughter, his body becoming real again, bones covered in flesh. He held his remaining axe up to Terrill, shaking. The Guardian did not flinch; the movement was not made in threat. “You see? This is the strength you need, Terrill Jacobs.”
Terrill said no words, but watched as Clay fell back, his body collapsing upon the rain-soaked floor of the Abyssal Palace, right where the Lifeblood once sat. The storm washed over him, and all seven of those heroes looked down at the man, the former Chosen One, bleeding mud as his body was giving out. Terrill was the only one to step forward.
“Then whatever strength I lack, I’ll rely on them to make up for it.”
“The answer…of a naïve…child…” Clay gasped out. He raised his hand, already beginning to turn to ash. He smiled. “But you deserve some praise…for bringing me this far… It’s a shame, to not see the end of this match…but there is a…greater game still at play… I look forward to seeing that play out…when I come back…”
“I will not let you,” Krysta said, her ire directed at the Fiend. He chuckled, turning his head to her.
“Do not count me out just yet. You want to save Adversa, no? Even if the containers shatter, you may have a chance, so long as he constrains the soul…” Clay coughed, much of his arms having vanished into the ether, becoming one with the earth again. “Yes…there’s still a chance…if you go to the far northwest… To Priscus… To the island…shrouded in…illusion…”
“Why tell us?” Lumen asked, wary of the Fiend’s dying words. Terrill shook his head, having no reason to doubt it. To that, Clay laughed, the breaking down of his body now working on his torso.
“Because…I will not see either win…” He spat out another pained chuckle, and then looked directly at Terrill. “But remember, Terrill, no matter how good a game you play, sacrifice will be necessary to change the end result, even if it’s what you hold most…dear… Family, friends, or your ideals, themselves… Not everyone…can be saved…”
“But I can try.”
“Yes…you can try… You can try…” His eyes began to flutter away, the rain striking the stone where they once were, and his final words left a whisper on the wind, one that Terrill knew would stick with him. Words he promised in his soul to avert. Nevertheless, they were the last words that Clay, Bane of the Earth, spoke before his body had disintegrated to nothingness. “But you will fail, Terrill Jacobs. You will fail.” And he was gone.