Stumbling across the black-floored desert, I find myself coming to a stop. Not one breath of magic is left in me. There's nothing to squeeze the final drops out of either. I am utterly spent. Barely enough strength exists in my body to stand. How I am able to walk, I can't quite figure out.

I am not dead. I know that much clearly without needing any thought to be put into it. The dead have a particular look to them and I do not fit the suit. Though, with how much Atarifuge's power has shaved off of me, it's a surprise that I do not. Everything is gone. My clothes fell off in a mess of sand and fabric.

Chunks of my body are gone, what I thought to be sandy debris turned out to be once me. Thankfully, I guess, it was just my carapace. In the future I will now have to live. I will stare back at my mirrored self, towards new scars. Someone will be there to tease them as well, to poke fun at my wounds.

Looking off into the distance as somehow peaceful winds breeze on by, words come back to me. Thoughts? Either way, I made a promise on names greater than anything mortal. Should I live, I would turn my back on Larishazza.

Strange, how very strange. I feel empty towards her, like a burden has left my heart. I guess almost dying and all that desperate fury burned it out of my system? Or, perhaps I recognise the might of the gods and what they want of me.

In my death, I would've maybe held onto Larishazza again. Maybe... Perhaps that is why I feel the way I do now? Though I have died before, I am still only, or was, human.

I know I will never hold Larishazza again. I also know that she did not love me, not like I do her. Did. Yeah, did.

There is a woman waiting for me in Thrurstradtur, in a little familiar place. One that bakes cake and loaves yet holds the looks of a metallic artisan. Liadanann. I owe her so much, and somehow, I've given her none of it since the first Smiling-less night came to be.

I admit, my heart is set now for what is alive, or, at least, it fully hears my promise now. Under the light of the Orbital-Halo, the gods who dwell within and in sight of all who live still. She's waiting for me, likely thinking I am dead. I frown though it causes me much pain and I think on that latter bit.

Walking along the silent, destroyed giant some more, the thought grows louder. Mayhaps that is why I feel free now? It is not that I have stopped loving Larishazza; it is because everyone believes me to be dead. I live in reality, but not in their minds, let alone their hearts.

My head shakes and sore chitters bring some noise to my ears other than grainy winds. A promise is a promise. A prayer is absolute in its reflection of one's character. Names, names of so many girls are in my head. All close to me and all influenced by what Motrtha gave me.

All that I am left bound in is the artefacts of the divine. The pearl bracelet of the Goddess of Mothers, the feather of the dead God of the Stars. If they somehow kept me alive, I do not know. However, an old insistent is crossing the stream I call thoughts.

It will protect you. That is what Motrtha said this bracelet was for. What it can do as well, I have come to learn over the years, though, that assurance lingers on. For my protection, she said is why she gave it to me. Why would such a perfect being lie to such an inconsequential man like myself?

No, the gods have made it clear that my time is to be with those I have promised to hold again. Liada, ever by my side but wrought with pain as I neglect her wants and desires. And so many more. Einervaene, Rose'lhia, Vadei, Vapooliar and perhaps even Inerish.

Two are within reach. I only need to cling on and make my way to the distance glare of light on polished brass. Four are gone, but my life goes on. To the ends of the All That Remains is my path and I intend to travel it. All for that final answer, I am trying to find out.

Whatever it is, my demise is not a part of it. The giant, Atarifuge. Such a vile creation that has destroyed so much. Even broken and laid to silent rest, it's still a force of terror.

The last of its aura has kissed the land, and it almost took me with it. Though this bed of mountains is present like one of nails, they have all been blunted. Reduced to pests in the clouds and a further mark of all that has been lost. To speak nothing of such a grand body that can crush so much on its own already.

Segaansallis lies broken much the same, never to be repaired again. If it ever has been. I took its head and ran this great monster through. If it could bleed, I'm sure there would be rivers of blood soaking me now and the sky would be raining still.

My eyes meet the empty sockets of the skull-shaped head. I carry on moving, with care and weakness in equal measure. Even though it lies quiet, I am not safe up here. Magic will sweep in and retake what was stolen from it.

To have no arcane power in your bones and flesh is to invite destruction of the self. Unless one can find a means to defend themselves from it. In a better time, I might laugh or make a noise of amusement. After all, I am what I am because of such protection.

Minding the slope of sand that rolls without end, I cross the gap to the head. Yet, by circumstance, it begins to move as I walk into its shadow. The jaws open one final time and lock back down with a boastful snap. A figure falls into view, one covered in blood and unable to find a good footing.

An aelenvari...?

Shuffling closer, the bloodied figure spots me and his bulbs glow weakly. He finds the strength to get back up, a peeling away piece of rust trailing behind. The mysteriously normal looking man of the flowers collapses. Finding the strength within for one more motion, I kick the limply held weapon away.

I collapse down to their side. We somehow manage to put ourselves up into a shared sitting position at the same time. His bulbs flicker more and I try to show how I cannot grasp his meaning. I would ask for words, but there are no lips to speak from.

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A jawline is there, but no mouth that fits the actual definition of it. His skin is of a mossy tint, pale and deprived of the natural, divine light of our world. He's scarred with many a story I will never hear. Wounded deep by those that I feel will draw his life to a close soon, if not now.

He stares at me, his eyes perhaps one of the few things that remain consistent about him and the other aelenvari. Their pitch black, specked shape moves so subtly. Towards the proof of the divine that I wear on my body. He can barely scrape a finger near the air of the feather.

Hesitant at first, I look around at all we find ourselves resting in. There are no weapons, no magic for spells and certainly no vicious animals. It is just us two. I move to offer him the necklace, but he shakes his head and instead finds enough energy to slip his hand through its loop.

A power beyond us flows, one made of divine greatness. Though it moves like a cloud, it holds no resemblance to the wind magic that blows from -the- big mountain. Two orbs form, one coming to me while the other goes to him. While I can find the strength to grasp my one, he cannot.

"I guess... I guess you have won. Evil-to-Be." his orb speaks, and it amuses the aelenvari into a fit of bloody hacks. He twitches back into a state of stillness. Some comfort to be found against my body.

"Evil-to-Be?" I ask, the plain voice from my orb not sharing the traits of my actual one. It's the same. Both of our voices are the same in this divine medium.

"Your heart... Your heart will lead you down a foul road. One I have trodden and marked with my points all too well." he explains, the details not becoming any clearer for it. The cryptic meaning of his accusation eludes me, but, with a want for rest... I have time to figure it out.

"The issues of my heart have been resolved. I like to think." I explain with Ihtuntar's aid and the aelenvari flinches with a jerk.

"How so...?" he asks, the voice taking on some tired details as life leaves the aelenvari behind increasingly.

"Being so near death, I know that I want to live. Maybe that, or... I have accepted the one I loved is gone, finally. So little chance exists for me to see her again and I only have one go at it." I elaborate for him and he nods so very barely. Were a single distraction be present, he could fool me into thinking he's just shuffling away.

"Resentment does not drive you now?" he asks, the voice becoming so very stern. I meet his eye with mine and nod.

"On the name of god and goddess did I swear my choice." I tell him and he falls back. Twisting to catch him, I fall onto my back alongside and he stares heavenward.

"Then I have succeeded even though I am to finally meet Undwote... Thousands of years past, all of which I knew vanished." He remarks and I do my best to look at the Orbital-Halo's shine. Oddly enough, with the magic in the air lacking for the moment, it seems to be clearer. I can feel the warmth so much more now on my broken shell and torn muscle.

"You killed so many to stop me?" I question, not sure how to accept such a detail.

"I killed no more than I had to," he answers and my head falls to the side to watch the deserts.

"You destroyed cities, reduced them to dust."

"I did not know that I was. All I know... All I know is that it hurts to look out at the world. Atarifuge allowed me to see again," he explains further and I let the thought go.

"Why are you the way you are?" I ask, noting his strange features. No male aelenvari has ever looked like that in my experience. No female comes close to his features, either.

"Because out of spite for one home, I damned them all." He answers and Rose'lhia's voice returns to my mind. Memories, it is helping me find the right one.

"The Patricide." I recall and this strange man almost weeps.

"Yes... I am its progenitor. I am what you would have turned out like had I not risen to the challenge." He insists, and I hold back anything other than the flattest emotion I can muster. I am too weak right now, too close to maybe never seeing anyone else ever again.

"You assume a lot to think I would be like you. I am not you." I point out and his throat chokes out what I want to believe is a laugh. A strange, muffled one with only a nose to escape through.

"I know... I know what you would become. Which is why I set from my tomb to end you. And, when I was done, I would rest in the world, knowing I would have saved it. Now, instead, I enjoy what little life remains, knowing I have managed even with your life remaining." He goes on as I rest a claw on my heavy chest.

"You wanted to go on an adventure when all was said and done?" I ask him and he manages to get a nod out.

"I was going to, yes. Though my name means nothing in this age, I would carve it even slightly into the bark of memory." He dreams and I think the conversation over.

"And what is that name?"

"What is yours...?" he asks in response, as if my question does not matter. What an odd fellow, wanting his name to be remembered but not being willing to share it.

"Nin. My name is Nin," I answer through the strength of my own voice. His bulbs flash in response.

"Though your tongue is foreign to me, the noise is something I can grasp. As no one other than an aelenvari can grasp my true-voice... I will let you know here. My name is Will'endoor, the Killer of the Children of Aelenvar."

"Say... Why do you struggle to see?" I ask as he starts to go limp.

"Bright." he goes.

"Bright?" I question, not really seeing a whole lot other than the sky that fits the description.

"The world is too bright in this time. When I was... When I still walked the land, a man trying so hard to get the love he was owed... I could barely see anyone else. All life but the dragons and their kin had such emberic glows to them. Now, all shine in the fashion of He-Who-Fell, God Ihtuntar." he explains and I move to get up. Slowly, I manage and finally stand with a wobble.

The feather stays in his grip.

"Why do you leave?" he asks through it and I shake my head.

"To show you why the world is so bright now..." I answer, exhausted and drained of all strength. Yet, I still find enough to turn the dying man around to the greatest mountain in the world.

"Tell me its name..." he asks, watching the source of all wind magic. Yet, I do not believe I can answer his request properly. Though its name is known to me, I cannot recall such an extensive thing.

Unable to recollect, I sit down next to him and take up the feather again, "Jhroungijherammujhernosumonaterikra."

I smile a little at the memory given form, the way it spoke even, that was Rose's voice.

His feather-given voice cheers, "So, all this time... I was blinded by the beauty of the gods? The world has been blessed with such a gift and I destroyed it...? All to look for you..."

A lone, clear tear manages to make its way past the blood decorating his face so grimly.

"The world will recover. The aelenvari yet live on, too." I explain.

"But the scars of my cruelty remain, they always will..." he seems to sigh, "I was hoping that, defeating you would give me a chance to make up for previous wrongdoings."

"I share your thoughts, here. I will be making it up to those I have scorned." I say and he looks me in the eye.

"Then... Although I have no right to... Please, please do it for them... Nin... Please do it for them... The world has so much pain in it already, so much bitterness and resentment. Please find peace with those you love and cherish them. Do not become another me... Not even I wanted another..." he explains, his body steadily going limp for the last time.

Frowning, I watch the magic of Ihtuntar vanish and take the feather back around my neck. Rising fully, I look around at the world, All-That-Remains. Finding Thrurstradtur again, or at least what seems to be it, I wander its way a step. Yes, I will.

But... Not now, much like him yet not, now is my time for rest. Though, I am very lucky it will not be my final. I am able to feel long enough to sense my body strike the giant-bedded sand. And, as I slide away, my eyes close and oddly, I feel at peace.

I feel, my heart is at peace for the first time in a long, long time.