It's a day and a night before we reach the fortified position.

All along the way, winged figures maintain their distance. They report our movements and know we're coming for them.

With the encampment in sight, I order our spirit array cultivators to form the celestial immortals we will use to conquer the daeva.

On both sides of my army, the white glow takes the form of a man lying down.

The daeva roar in defiance. And, the winged people fly in haste to disrupt our meditation.

Michal calls for the defense of the soul constructs.

In a moment, the melee is engaged.

I maintain my position with the main body of our force.

Blood falls from the sky as rain. The immortals use the high art of the sword and spear against the bute strength of the daeva.

The enemy is savage in its effort to overwhelm my army.

"First three rows, stagger up."

Michal begins ordering the main body.

Teeth form as the enemy assails our formation.

Red and blue lights come from behind the enemy lines.

They're faster to form their combat arrays, and the forms of a snake and a wolf come into the world as large spirit constructs.

At last, my two celestial immortals rise with a white glow.

Each in robes, carrying swords made of sword ki. Cultivators form the spines of the blades.

The giants fly out to meet the animal forms. Along the way, they slash out with terrible power. Turning daeva into so much blood to rain down on the world below.

The daeva forces meet the main body of my army.

With their soul constructs busy, the teeth of my army chew through the solitary actors.

Arcane missiles meet chi bombs and the extremes of chi and magic-based combat tear into both sides in this conflict.

Despite knowing the importance of staying alive, I cannot abide watching my men die while I sit tight in safety.

"Michal, I'm going in."

The commander says nothing to me. He turns to his honor guard and assigns a bodyguard to watch my back.

There is a point in our formation that is close to breaking.

I dive in and bring another of my common swords to bear.

I dump chi into the disposable weapon and hurl it into a pack of daeva.

The sword explodes the moment it reaches the enemy.

It's not enough to kill one of the mighty daevas. But it serves to disrupt the rhythm they were building.

My next sword is out, and I am trading strikes with one of the daeva. It's a fierce woman, her hair a mohawk. There's an odd beauty to my foe.

Her clothes, like so many of the daeva, are functional. They wear no body armor beyond the leather of their clothes.

These demigods seem more animalistic than divine.

The strong woman pushes me with pure power. But I'm more patient and wait for her to over-extend.

Before long, I see my opening and separate one of her hands from her body.

She cries out in pain and anger as her hand and sword fall from the sky.

With her remaining hand, she balls up a fist and wildly swings it into my chest.

I cough up a mouthful of blood and make some distance between us.

With a moment's respite, I channel healing chi into my wounds.

Before I'm back to full capacity, I rejoin the melee.

The female daeva appears behind the battle line.

I watch a daeva channel an arcane explosion of purple light.

Immortal and daeva alike are blown away.

I think, for a moment, that these enemies need to be more concerned with the damage they cause to one another. But, these feathered and leather-winged daeva are fighting this battle with only their own glory in mind.

I feel my bodyguard grip me and pull me aside. I give myself to the momentum and watch as a large arrow sails through the air I just occupied.

Rather than thanking the man, I project a chi bomb into a crowd of daeva.

It seems these demigods are blind to the spiritual world. They fail to notice the manipulation of chi around them.

I wonder if they're able cultivate the chi of heaven and earth. Or if they, like mortals, simply have yet to learn cultivation.

If such a daeva arose, we would face a powerful threat.

My thoughts are everywhere but the battle before me.

My blade hacks into one of the feathery wings, and the daeva limps through the air.

I refuse to let this daeva live and pursue him down and out of the formation.

As I draw close, I can see resignation in his eyes.

He looks like a boy. I don't know the lifespan of daeva. But, the youth seems so young.

For a moment, I contemplate leaving this one to fight another day.

I recognize my absence from the formation and, with a final look to the boy, return to the safety of our teeth. My bodyguard looks relieved to see me rejoin the formation.

In the distance, I watch the snake and wolf meet our celestial immortals.

The snake combat array is slippery, and the wolf is fierce.

The advantage my immortals hold is the manifestation of sword ki—a true sword in the celestials' hands.

The soul constructs deteriorate on the daeva side as Michal commands ranged support for our combat arrays.

Chi bombs blast into the daeva constructs.

Steadily, the celestial immortals claim victory.

And, as the battle shifts, a new mood comes over the battlefield.

The two constructs come in as a pincer, with the wedge of the main body of our forces coming to the center of the fighting.

Teeth and sword ki tear into the now panicking daeva.

They move to retreat. But it's too late.

Only a handful escape the net. And a butchering of demigods commences, dense red rain falling on the field below.

Our forces are haggard. But delight in our triumph is upon us all.

I think of the boy and wonder if he escaped.

My thoughts return to center.

This isn't the end of the campaign.

I find my place at Michal's side. Reports come in regarding the squadron, troop, and platoon status.

I don't need to know the number of our dead. This isn't the time for mourning. This is the time to twist the blade.

When Michal is ready and teams have been deployed to gather our dead, I give the order to march on.

We carry on for hours, and day gives way to night.

The winged foes are faster than us and evade us in our pursuit.

When we finally come upon their encampment, we find it empty.

A bit anticlimactic. But I'll take the easy win.

"Burn it."

The order goes out, and the daeva encampment is alight before long.

I wonder as the impromptu shelter these daeva made goes up in flames.

The architecture is dazzling for a frontier base. Sloping ceilings meet the Eastern gales. Towering pillars of wood hold the buildings up.

All the engineering these demigods used to create this place is as so much smoke now that its tenants have fled.

As I look into the flames, I wonder if this sense of triumph will last. How long will our adversaries allow us victory?

The great bonfire lasts through the night, and come dawn; I order the withdrawal of our forces.

We will return to the Tower of Acer to lick our wounds and mourn our dead.

When we return, I see the ceremony held for our fallen brethren.

Much as I want some time in secluded meditation, things are expected of me.

We have the mortals of the tower collect wood for a mass cremation.

Michal sees to the details, and I only have a small part in the ceremony.

I stand before a gathering of my comrades, a speech expected of me.

I dread the moment of my speech. But, it comes on all the same.

With an inward sigh, I begin.

"Thank you all for coming. This is a moment I have dreaded since the battle ended.

"That I would stand before those that I commanded to war. And before those who fell under my watch.

"It is with gratitude and sorrow that I speak to you now.

"When I was still a mortal, I viewed the immortals on high as greedy self-consumed beings that took and never returned.

"As I began my cultivation, this belief became more solid.

"My fate has been left to the whims and wants of those with power for many years.

"But, with the rise of Violet Sword, I have found immortals who would give up their lives for the promise of freedom.

"Brothers and sisters who do not fight as the daeva, seeking only personal glory.

"As I look to our fallen and you now, I see the future. I see Violet Sword."

There is no applause. No shouts to affirm my speech.

There is only resolute will as I begin igniting the sacred fire of our fallen.

Following the memorial service, I go into secluded meditation.

The bodyguard from the battle has stayed on as security for me. Whether I want him with me or not, he follows me.

I leave the tower behind and find a river that rolls through the woodland.

My guard maintains a healthy distance, and I sit to meditate.

The river steadily trickles, sweeping pebbles and dirt down an endless journey.

The river is like a dao. A way by which the water passes for a brief period—the journey ever beyond the present.

I think on my dao. Am I the river and the chi of heaven and earth as water flowing through me?

I think about the nature of the dao. Am I but a pebble bounced along the way? Rounded to the river's preference.

I sigh.

For now, I clear my mind.

The heavens open themselves to me, and I can't help but think about how long it's been since I sought the lessons of the stars.

I think of where the daeva finds placement in the stories of the constellations.

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They are my enemy. But, beyond that, I have yet to learn about their culture.

Like the abomination, are they jealous of this world's wealth, seeking only to advance their conquest?

I know that they are not merely visitors to our world.

They have enslaved the mortals that they have encountered.

I think about the methods of the immortal sects. We abduct mortals and enslave them.

The daeva are not so different from us.

It's unpleasant to realize your enemy isn't so different from you.

Sectarian conflicts are common. What is demanded is hegemony in the region. Violet Sword cannot abide a foreign threat to endanger our sphere of influence.

The knight is beset by dangers that would consume him should he allow it.

The plight of the slave is like nothing before the knight's battles.

I think of my interaction with the enslaved mortals of Violet Sword.

I have been generous in fostering their growth as immortals.

It may have been a tough position to find oneself in. But, the path of immortality is a blessing.

My time with Divided Fates was brief but brutal.

I wouldn't want to number those who failed the climb in that cruel sect.

I find my center. The past is not what matters.

This moment of peace matters—freedom from the horrors I've seen and made happen.

I think about the nature of war. It all seems so important when you're a part of it. But then, as you reflect on it, one can't help but wonder how important it was.

The river doesn't care about me or the demigods I face. It knows its way.

I wish I knew my dao so well.

I don't let the hours grow so long as I meditate. There are many duties I have to see to.

I mourn for my footloose and fancy-free dao.

The name of my guard escapes me. But, he follows like a shadow as I return to the Tower of Acer.

After our recent battle and the memorial service, the men and women of Violet Sword need some time to relax.

I return to my command center, where I find Michal hard at work planning our next campaign.

"Sir, there is paperwork for you."

I sigh as I turn to the mountain of papers.

The hours are long and dull. But, I make steady progress.

I wonder if this is what leadership is—filling out paperwork and having other people commanding your battles.

I find no fault in Michal. He is a loyal man and knows the battlefield better than I. Having him command my war is a relief.

But I should be doing something more.

More than paperwork, I think, as I press my seal into the thousandth document.

I find a rhythm and carry on through the night.

As daeva enter the world, I find my place by the river.

My shadow needs neither food nor sleep. He truly is the perfect bodyguard.

Soldiers are patrolling the area. So, I'm not worried about daeva finding me. Still, my shadow's presence puts my mind at ease.

I breathe in the chi of heaven and earth and out my pollution. In with the light and out with the dark.

Time slips by as I fall into a trance.

The trickle of the river makes me oblivious to the affairs of immortal and daeva alike.

My mind is empty, and I am just an extension of the universe—part of something greater than war and tribe.

For hours, I am.

But, as the river is the dao of water, war is my dao.

I rise from my position and take to the air.

"Sir, with your authorization, I would form the brigades into a fighting body for our next campaign."

He shows on the map where he intends to strike.

With the nearest encampment destroyed, we will dive deep into enemy territory.

"See to it."

A messenger rushes in before we can get anywhere with our planned attack. "Your excellency, the daeva have been spotted traveling South en mass. They're coming here."

Michal and I share a look.

"Get the first brigade assembled. Violet Sky will lead the engagement."

"Yes, sir."

"And I want to see the other two brigades on standby."

Michal nods as he barks out orders. With the machinery moving, I head for the wall.

Word is spreading, and the guards are steely-eyed in the face of the coming threat.

They salute me in gratitude for my presence.

The troops assemble behind me. Dozens become hundreds, and hundreds become thousands.

With plenty of advance warning, I watch the daeva slowly trickle onto the horizon.

They fly about like so many bees. My cultivator army is disciplined in the face of the thousands of winged humanoids.

We understand nothing of one another's language. There is nothing to share between us. We have marked each other as enemies. And there is no stopping our collision.

Michal commands from the rear. Our forces are being spread out to cover all sides.

My mind is consumed by worry over how many soul constructs the daeva will be commanding.

There are no passionate speeches. No fancy words to make the risk to life and limb seem somehow more noble.

"Stagger!" I hear from behind me.

The daeva dive for us. The brutes laugh like madmen as they engage the melee.

Our teeth are out, so the first few foes are ground up. But thousands follow.

Chi bombs sunder flesh and bone.

With the tower guards, I engage a dozen demigods.

As I slash into the side of one of the daeva, I think about what it means to be a demigod.

Is it similar to being an immortal?

I've seen enough death to know that both immortal and daeva can be killed.

At this very moment, the daeva I carve into coughs up a mouthful of blood.

The demigod shows no fear of death as he smiles a bloody smile while he chops down at me.

I block the incoming attack and retreat.

The enemy's breathing sputters with the blood seeping into his lungs.

His smile gives way to a grim determination.

He'll have my head before he falls. At least, that's what's on his mind.

I block another strike and my common sword breaks.

I narrowly avoid being cut into. But then, the daeva drops to a knee.

I give the man a wide berth and let him fall face-first onto the rampart.

A dozen more take his place as I draw out a spear.

There is a cluster of daeva charging for me. I dump chi into the spear and throw it into the advancing men and women.

One woman fails to see the weapon in time to avoid it.

She cries out. But doesn't have time for her pain to turn into anger.

The spear explodes from her torso. The gathered daeva are bathed in her blood and bits.

For her, they howl in anger.

My fellow guards and I fall back to the main body of my army as arcane magics cut into the rampart we had just held.

A fireball consumes one of the men, and another leather-winged enemy presents himself.

With the aerial nature of our battle, I feel the threat in every direction.

Only with information can one find relative safety.

As I search the battle field, I see soul constructs of red and blue light rising.

I can only hope that Michal has the combat array cultivators prepared.

A frog and a snake represent the leather-winged red faction. At the same time, a male deer with horns made of daeva represents the feathered blue faction.

The frog array jumps large distances and projects a tangle that grabs people from formation to a sickening end.

My forces project out with their spiritual bodies to bombard the incoming constructs.

I take out four of my common grade swords and project four teeth to my soul body before me.

I rely on what I've learned of soul constructs in the array formation.

A soft white glow takes the air, and before me is a grizzly mouth with four swords as their points.

As I face off against a daeva, I can't help but think this is the first time I've seen fear on the face of one of the demigods.

Despite his fear, he faces the maw of doom.

As he charges, I bite, and the teeth chew into the winged foe.

At the sides of the formation, I see several celestial immortals finding their way into the battlefield.

I stand still for a moment, wondering at how terrible it all is.

Our aerial battlefield finds every fatality losing its place and falling with a wet thud into the ground below.

The mortals of the tower hide from the battle that is beyond them.

I break from formation to seek out the commander of my forces.

I find him behind the line with many attendants running to and from him, relaying orders and status reports.

I marvel at the discipline of this man in how he uses every element of our army to wage war.

The daeva seem like so many barbarians before Michal's strategic actions.

"Sir," Michal calls out. "Sir, you need a guard if you go out to battle."

I look at my shadow. But I know that Michal wants much more for my protection.

"Take this platoon," Michal motions for an escort. "Sir, if you could reinforce the Western wall, it would help."

I can't help but feel that he wants me far from the main battle.

But, I respect the man's wisdom.

I agree, and before long, I arrive at the Western Wall.

The battle is still going on. But, for me, the fighting seems finished.

Part of me expects them to send some forces to flank us.

But, having fought the enemy, I know they are a straightforward lot. They relish battle's glory and dive into the hardest fighting to feed their pride.

It makes them both easy and difficult to face.

Cries echo throughout the tower. Cries of victory and defeat. Exultation and pain.

I watch from a distance as bodies fall from the sky.

My platoon and I watch as the glory and cruelty of the moment pass us by.

Violet Sword runs red this day.

The giant combat arrays batter one another and groups of solitary actors.

I scan the horizon to see if some threat is coming to face me. But I know it is a vain hope.

The flow of time slows down as I watch the distant battles.

This is my war. And I'm on the sidelines.

The ebb and flow of the battle sees both sides advancing and retreating.

It's slow. But, the daeva are steadily digging into our ranks. Our teeth break on the gristle of the enemy.

I want to charge in and face the threat. But that's not what a wise leader does.

Then again, who is it that I'm leading?

Michal is the leader of my men. I outrank him because I'm on the council. Because I formed Violet Sky.

I breathe in and out.

We each have a role. This moment is Michal's. And, he will bring us victory.

Our line falls inward, and the teeth of our men open wide.

The daeva, as always, revel in the glory of battle and only notice too late that they're surrounded.

Like a butcher at work, our force executes the gathered daeva.

A horn can be heard in the distance and the surviving daeva flee.

Our forces hold formation. The winged adversaries are much faster in flight.

Our army remains as alert now as at the beginning of the engagement.

I leave the platoon to maintain the security of the Western wall.

I find Michal just as busy as during the heat of the battle.

Situation reports are coming in. Statistics on our dead and wounded.

I look down at the tower and field below.

Bodies lay in heaps below—mountains of corpses, daeva and immortal alike.

Michal is busy ordering teams to see to the bodies.

The demigod corpses as so much debris to dispose of.

Our Violet Sword members receive the reverence their sacrifice demands.

It's hard to say who's lost more. But, had we lost this battle, we would have lost everything.

The Tower of Acer is our line of defense against this otherworldly threat. Should we fall here, the enemy will threaten the main territory of Violet Sword. And we have no second line.

We held the home-field advantage with all of our ascended immortals available. Had this battle been engaged away from the tower, our defeat would have been likely.

I clear my mind of the implications of this battle and turn to something I can do. I aid the work crews in collecting the dead.

My hands are stained red as I handle one corpse after another.

The order for firewood has already gone out to the mortals of the tower. I'm sure they fear the daeva presence. But Michal has already got patrols going out.

The hours pass numbly and, as night comes on, I abandon the task. I am both physically and mentally drained from my toil.

I look up to the stars. The yin energies of night flowing into me.

I don't want to know how many we lost. How many brothers and sisters are have lost the way of immortality?

Some among our ranks are centuries old. For all that experience to be lost in a single battle. I can't help but feel sad.

The knight is, as ever, wary of the threats that lurk on the horizon. It is a dance. And, I wonder how the knight never tires of this dance.

The reaper is how I feel right now. The sickle has already passed through our ranks. Now, all that's left to do is gather the dead.

The night passes, the new day comes, and the labor continues.

Enough wood has been collected, and the pire is built.

The field from which the enemy came is the stage where we look at two expanses of kindling. One in honor and the other to be rid of.

I stand before a gathering of several thousand Violet Sword members, resolve in each man and woman's eyes.

We will win this war.

I stand there, a speech expected.

But, I've spoken words over the dead before.

With a sad heart, I take a torch to the pyre of my soldiers. Tenderly, I touch the torch to the four corners of the pile before chucking it into the daeva's pyre.

I fly into the air and watch as the fire consumes my soldiers.

I turn to look at the horizon.

The daeva threat isn't passed. We have to go after them.

I float over the fires for hours as blood and bone become ash.

A number of my comrades hold vigil with me. But time waits for no one, so I turn to action.

I return to the command center.

Michal is busy cataloging the dead. Immortals tend not to have familial relationships. So, most of our deceased don't have people who need to be told.

But, it is necessary to document the dead for the sect's records.

I merely observe, a phantom in my own domain.

"Sir," I vaguely hear.

"Sir, now is the time to attack."

He seems to want me to make a decision.

"Yes," I say, not even sure I know what he means.

The man observes me for a long moment before turning to his task.

I leave Michal to the affairs of the campaign. He is a capable general.

I think of Godfrey, the Command Sergeant in charge of my recruits.

Were he here, he could give me some insight into leading men.

I breathe in and out. In with the light and out with the dark.

Everything is so heavy, the weight of all the expectations others have for me.

As a phantom, I observe the affairs of my command center.

Michal draws up lines and deployments. He already has forces deploying to secure points of strategic value.

With our losses, many forces are being split up to cover open spots in the roster.

The hour comes upon me like a smack in the face.

This is not merely a time for battle. It is a time for revenge.

My soldiers are resolute and find their place among their fellows.

I'm somewhat numb as I give the signal to Michal.

"Forward!" the cry goes out.

Thousands of airborne ascended immortals fly from the Tower of Acer. We aim to take the pillar of creation that divides one realm from the other.

Our journey is long, and we draw a net over the Northlands.

Occasionally, we catch a daeva den unawares; the blood left to stain the earth.

I'm just a witness to the machine of war.

For days, we travel, and the woodland grows barren until we fly over broad expanses of tundra.

Packs of daeva travel on the horizon, long since seeing our advance.

For days, we proceed under the eyes of our winged adversaries.

Eventually, the horizon ahead grows oddly bright as day gives way to dusk.

A blue glow brightens the world.

I look to Michal. He puts our forces on alert.

As we draw closer, a blue light beam ascends into space; a doorway to another world.

We look on in wonder at the pillar. The blue light has shadows moving over its surface. The army of the daeva descend in force down through the light pillar.

There are like so many bees swarming as they draw closer.

"Stagger!" Michal commands.

We proceed like an arrow drawing ever closer to blood.

The daeva have their soul constructs leading out. Animalistic energy escapes the daeva, and blood flows from my soldiers.

Michal has the celestial immortals forming. But, they are slow compared to the swiftness of the enemy.

Feathered and leather wings beat down. I watch as daeva and Immortal meet.

The brute strength of the daeva is apparent as they batter my men.

I take out my common swords and form a solo array of a mouth that projects before me.

The daeva and immortals near me are baffled by my creation. Viscious teeth ready to bite into the next threat.

One unlucky daeva finds himself between those teeth, and I twist the swords, separating the man from his limbs.

All around, roars of anger and cries of agony can be heard.

This is total war. It's all or nothing in the battle for the pillar.

The daeva receive continuing reinforcement while my force is already complete.

Not far away, combat arrays meet with violence. Sword ki meets primal energy. Whichever power proves superior is anyone's guess.

But I do enjoy watching a white celestial immortal cut a red dragon in half.

The war... The battle sees many plummet to the ground below with sickening splashes.

I face a pair of daeva, a man and a woman.

Their faces know no fear as the man tries to draw my attention while his counterpart circles.

I watch this display, concerned until a ripple in space can be seen behind the woman.

She grins as she comes around my teeth. At the moment before she charges me, a blade appears and slices her throat.

Her grin gives way to a bloody look of terror.

She gags on her blood, and her fellow roars with anger before charging into my array.

He wants to overpower my array.

He doesn't.

On the other end of my teeth, the pieces of the man fall.

My shadow maintains his stealth, and I reengage the daeva.

I watch as a unit of daeva tries to scale our staggered formation.

Their path grinds them down until none remain.

Our advantage is discipline and order.

Theirs is their primal strength and combat arrays.

They have more animals than we have celestial immortals.

A row of immortals is battered under the rampage of a boar.

Michal is busy commanding forces to use ranged attacks to bring down the array.

This goes on for hours, and I want to know if we can win this battle.

I dispatch a foe with my swordsmanship, my array consuming too much energy to maintain.

The lines of the battle are fluid, and immortals from the rear find their way to openings in the front.

Nothing special will win the day. No special strategies. No secret weapons.

Only blood and bone will find the victor.

The long hours become a day and a night. The casualties are in the thousands.

It's hard to say who lost more. Or who wanted it more?

But, finally, a definitive turn in the conflict is reached as Michal commands our forces to an upset of the enemy's efforts.

A horn can be heard behind the enemy's lines.

The daeva before me turn to the pillar of creation.

They ascend, abandoning their fort to us.

A cheer comes through my forces as the victory is realized.

We've done it. We've banished our enemy from this realm.

All those shadows in the pillar flee to the safety of their home.

I know nothing of their purpose in coming.

I put useless thoughts aside.

Michal already has teams collecting the dead.

We may have found victory. But, it came at a terrible cost.

"Sir, I believe it best to remain with most of our forces."

I look to the weary man. He commanded this army to victory. And, he will remain while I return to the sect to get all the accolades.

"Understood, commander."

I wait for the dead to be burned. It is with a heavy heart that I set fire to my fellow daoists.

Many of the dead are Violet Sky members. Freshly raised to ascended immortal, only to die so soon afterward.

I sigh as I stand before a gathering of my Violet Sword comrades.

"Thank you, all.

"This victory is one that came at great cost. Our brothers and sisters gave their lives that we may hold the Pillar of Creation.

"That we may secure our lands from the rapacious greed of these demigods.

"We will remain vigilant of the dangers from above.

"Thank you."

As I finish my speech, I take up a torch and light the bonfire.

I watch for hours as the flesh turns to ash.

We won. And yet, it feels somehow hollow.

We beat back the threat. But, all we gained was security. Important to be sure, but...

I let the useless thoughts pass from me.

The last coal long dead, I organize a squadron to see me back to the Tower of Acer.

The men following me are strong, and they will get past the trauma of war. They need time.

I need time.

I leave most of the men and women at the tower and take a platoon with me back to the Violet Sword village.

My first order of business is to report to the council.

"Your Excellency, the council is ready for you."

"Thank you, Director Chambers."

I pass the elderly gentleman and face the lions' den.

"Field commander, please sit." My patriarch motions to a chair close to him.

"Thank you, Your Excellency."

"We have heard reports of your success."

I nod my head.

"How many men did you lose to get this victory?" comes a critical voice.

I wish I didn't know the answer. But I do.

After I put a number to the question, the hall goes silent.

"I trust that the war is finished? The daeva gone back to their realm?"

I have no words to answer the question.

"Field commander, good work. We are safer for your actions."

I nod, numb to it all.

"You may take your leave. I'm sure you need some time to collect yourself."

"Thank you, Your Excellency."

I bow hand over fist to the patriarchs and find myself alone.

I sigh, somewhat sad.

I think about what I had for but a short time.

My alchemy and the peer I found in Violet Horizon.

Rain.

I travel through the air to find the alchemy workshop.

I find her busy at work.

She's beautiful. But I leave her and turn my eyes to the dusk sky.

Gradually, the stars appear. Each fades into existence in the inky blackness.

My eyes turn to the knight, the slave, and the reaper.

But, as they come to the abomination, something strange happens. One of the stars falls from the constellation. Then another, until I'm watching a cascade of celestial stars falling to the earth.

And then, a star turns off from its path.

I have only seconds before the star will be upon me. And I sense a great hunger in it. Something more devastating than anything I've ever known.

My thoughts go to Rain below me. Will she be safe?

For the first time in a long time, I feel fear. Not simply dread. But, manifest terror.

In spite of my fear, I fly up to meet the divine judgment. I rotate the ocean of my soul well.

In just a few fleeting seconds, I transform my soul stone into a bomb. It hurts, to feel your soul rupture.

The flawless core that I spent so much effort, so many years purifying, cracks and splinters. The energy unwilling to remain contained.

I don't know how great the devastation will be. Or if it will even slow the oncoming cosmic force. But, I am past the point of no return. Past controlling the energy.

I grow blind in the face of the fallen star.

I hear... laughter?

I have no thought to spare for the mocking sound as I feel my heart break. My soul shatter. And then....

Epilogue:

It's dark.

Ah, I think. My eyes are closed.

But, my hand...

Something's chewing on my hand.

I open my eyes to see a wolf, ineffectually, gnawing on my hand.

I don't even pull my hand free. What could a common wolf do to harm an ascended immortal?

Despite the thought, the continued biting grows slightly painful.

Odd.

I extend out with my soul body only to realize that my soul body doesn't seem to be there. Or at least, it's so weak that I can barely feel it.

The wolf catches my return to consciousness and begins growling.

I pull my hand free of the creature and look at the bite marks. This is all so odd.

Another wolf bares its fangs at me and the pair decide to jump at me.

I wave my hands to fend them off. But my movements are clumsy.

Growing frustrated, I punch the nearest wolf. My attack is far too weak. However, the beast takes a moment to recover.

As I watch them, I hear the leading wolf snort dismissively and the pair leave me alone in the... woods?

I was in the Violet Sword village just now, wasn't I?

Suddenly, the image of Rain flashes before my mind. Is she safe?

It's all so confusing.

I dive into my soul well only to realize it's nothing more than a puddle.

My eyes search the forest around me. It seems somehow familiar.

I try to think where I've seen this place before. But the answer eludes me.

My feet carry me in a direction that I feel I know.

A sinking feeling comes over me as I realize that I've lost my cultivation. My soul stone is cracked. I'm no longer an ascended immortal.

It's weird, though. When one's cultivation is crippled, they become a mortal again. I've never heard of an ascended falling back to being a lower immortal.

My feet carry me on a path that they seem to know. And day turns to night.

When I look up at the stars, what I see freezes my soul. The abomination is gone.

A constellation has left the heavens...

Memories flash before me of my final moments in the Violet Sword village. I watched it happen. And it even came for me.

Days and nights pass, the forest fading before a river that grows into a larger one.

"Cain. Where are you, boy?"

"Coming, dad."

The village I pass seems so familiar. But, I can't quite place it.

Time passes as I see what I can do to mend my cracked soul stone.

It isn't hard to do. Just time-consuming. And I don't have any pills to speed up the process.

As I begin to wonder what I should do, I see a sign. 'Callo City.'

Memory ignites in me, a slight smile forming on my lips. Once upon a time, I knew a man in Callo. And a woman.

They must be long dead by now.

Still, I feel a longing to revisit the past and make my way to the city.

Mindfully, I cut myself off from chi. I may be an elder of Violet Sword. But, I've regressed in cultivation and, as I recall, Callo was a dangerous place to be a cultivator.

"I'll be dammed if I run from a runt like you."

"You'll be dammed then!"

A group of cultivators battle it out as I pointedly walk in the other direction.

I find my way to the apothecary of my youth. I wonder who owns it now.

On entering the quaint building, I see a man with his back to me. I think perhaps it's Sebastian's son or grandson. The man is not quite old but he has salt and pepper hair.

The man seems to notice my presence and turns with a professional smile on his face.

I feel my head cock to the side. He looks just like the man I once knew.

"Hello, welcome to Grey's Pharmeceuticals. How can I help you?"

My head feels funny, "Sebastian?"

The man looks at me oddly before smiling pleasantly, "Yes, that's me."

I feel my breath quicken, the world taking on an uncanny gray.

"Sorry," I manage. "I- I think... I need a moment."

Sebastian looks on with concern as I woodenly walk out the door and into the alley outside his shop.

All at once pieces of a puzzle I didn't know I was trying to solve fall into place.

With effort, I make my way out of Callo City in a way I once knew very well. In the woodland outside the city, I sit down and try to process what I think I know.

Day passes into night and I watch the sky in a way I haven't in many years, like it's new.

But, other than the absence of the abomination, the sky isn't new. It's me who's new.

I just escaped the Divided Fates sect. At least, this body did.

Was it decades? A century? More? I had long since stopped counting.

Sebastian would have long since died.

My family... My father. My mother.

Tears begin to well up in my eyes as I think of what could have been. What still could be.

I wipe my eyes and think of Rain. Was all that we experienced just gone?

With some effort, I turn to my cultivation.

I have a long way to go.