<< The Great Cataclysm, Past >>

Towering pillars of smoke billowed the skies, casting a deep shadow around the battlefield. The frontlines of the war were a scene of despair and humanity's relentless struggle for survival.

The scent of blood and ash had already been permanently marred in Sorin's brain. His boots crunched on the earth, the ground itself seemed to weep as it soaked all the blood of the hunters and knights.

It was a nightmarish tableau of death, the pristine landscape of the Empire was completely destroyed.

Sorin closed his eyes in silent prayer as he gently placed a hand on a hunter's face. The man's face warped in fear and pain during his final moments, Sorin wiped the expression off the man's face. As it was the last thing he could do to preserve the hunter's dignity.

There were so many corpses that littered his surroundings, he couldn't bless all of them. Sorin still had to heal the injured, and he had to start with the hunters who had suffered the most.

He had no time to rest. His days were a repetitive chore of fighting against demons and healing the hunters back at their camp.

"Your Holiness." A woman called out to him, her long white hair tied into a messy ponytail, and her silver eyes glinted with power. Her cloak, although covered with dirt and blood, was obviously well-made, fitting for a mage like her.

Sorin tried to mask the sadness from his face, but it was to no avail. "Ah, is there anything you need, miss?" he asked with a weak smile but it probably looked like a grimace to her.

She shook her head. "No, but I suggest that you rest for now. You have exhausted your mana, and I believe that your divine magic couldn't handle all the injured shoulders." Her voice was stern and commanding as she spoke.

Sorin blinked. "I can't leave these people alone, miss." he breathed out.

The woman sighed as a soft flicker of magic emerged from her palms. The light warped itself around Sorin before disappearing. "Your Holiness, I beg you. I can already sense your life force dissipating the more you force yourself."

She turned to the hunters and knights. "If it could ease you, I'm Neve Adurne, I promise that I can use healing spells to temporarily help the injured while they wait for you."

He glanced at the woman for a second before gasping out, "Oh, I'm sorry for not recognizing you, archmage." he bowed his head.

"It's fine, your Holiness. This is the first time we met."

Her presence was unexpected, offering her aid in the midst of the battlefield. The people at The Sanctum had decided to isolate themselves when the cataclysm occurred.

Sorin hesitated for a moment, but he nodded his head, gratefully accepting the archmage's offer. "Very well, I trust that you can help the people here."

Neve's expression remained the same, but her eyes softened. "I promise, Your Holiness. It is my duty, after all."

That moment marked the first time Sorin met Neve Adurne. The start of their relationship, entangled between their dedication to save humanity.

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The days passed by in a haze of never-ending battles against demons. Neve and Sorin formed an unlikely alliance on the frontlines. For the first time, Sorin felt like a weight on his shoulders had been lifted.

Neve was powerful. Inhumanly strong.

With her help, Sorin focused more on healing the knights and providing support rather than fighting with his sword. It was a welcome change in such a grueling environment.

In one quiet moment between battles, Neve would always sit by him until all the hunters returned back to their quarters. It was as if she knew about Sorin's struggles and anxiety.

"Why don't you sleep with them?" Neve asked, her eyes focused on the crackling of the campfire.

"I'm going to ask you the same question, archmage."

"I told you not to call me that, Your Holiness," she retorted.

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Silence stretched for a second. Sorin watched the dark skies above them. The ocean of stars that once shone above the empire was completely gone.

Sorin believed that he would not lose anything if he told Neve the truth. Within the short time they were together, he thought of Neve as a companion. A bond formed by their mutual understanding of their responsibilities and duties.

"I-I have trouble sleeping at night..." Sorin admitted with an empty smile.

Neve did not show any reaction. "The horrors of wars haunt us all, Your Holiness," she replied softly. "If you'd like, I could knock you out cold with a spell," she suggested blandly.

"I'd rather not."

Neve snorted in reply as she slowly twisted her fingers to play with the fire using her magic. "We both carry the weight of this war."

"Why did you leave the tower, Neve?" Sorin asked, the tone of his voice suddenly went serious. He watched as Neve's fingers stilled as she paused for a moment to think.

"I'd rather spend my life here on the frontlines than stay at the tower a second longer," she said, her voice tinged with bitterness. "My power should be used for the greater good, to help those in need... not as a tool for the council."

So The Sanctum was not what Sorin thought it was.

At that moment, Sorin could only nod his head in understanding. This was Neve's notion of freedom, to be used as a tool of war.

J̶u̶s̶t̶ l̶i̶k̶e̶ h̶i̶m̶.

J̶u̶s̶t̶ l̶i̶k̶e̶ e̶v̶e̶r̶y̶o̶n̶e̶ e̶l̶s̶e̶.

After the war ends, Sorin made a vow to let Neve experience new things. To form memories that would overcome what she suffered within the tower.

"You know, up in the Sanctum, I could not see the stars. They were always obstructed by thick clouds. Even now that I am down here, I couldn't even see the night sky," Neve admitted.

Sorin smiled at the small moment of vulnerability coming from Neve. "When this is over, I'll help you find a place where we could see the stars."

The weight of the war was forgotten for a second as Neve's eyes sparkled. "...When this is over," she echoed.

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It was sudden news that Neve had to be stationed in a different city. One that was far away from him. With the frontlines constantly shifting, Sorin could only hope that they could meet again.

Neve's eyes were tinged with sadness as she faced Sorin. "I have to go, Your Holiness," she said softly. "They require my help."

Sorin smiled at her, hiding his reluctance. He understood how important her duty was...but that doesn't make it any easier to accept. "I'll hold the frontlines while you're away."

The archmage hesitantly reached out a gloved hand to touch Sorin's hand. "I'll return soon, Sorin," she whispered.

Sorin held her hand tightly. "Please be careful."

"I've fought so many demons, Your Holiness, and I've always come back safe, haven't I?"

Still, the war was unpredictable. No matter how strong Neve was, Sorin couldn't help but feel worried.

"May the Gods protect you."

"I don't believe in deities."

Despite the harshness in Neve's words, Sorin still blessed her. "Stop being stubborn," he scolded.

When Neve pulled back, Sorin saw a small smile on her face, an expression that he hadn't seen from her. She locked eyes with him, silver orbs shining with determination and hope. "I'll be fine," she reassured.

"Take care of yourself, Sorin."

"You too, Neve."

That was the last time they ever talked.

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The night was cold and desolate, but nothing could compare to the chilling emptiness inside Sorin's chest. His heart felt heavy, unlike any pain he had experienced before.

"If I was there... I could have saved her," he whispered to himself.

"Your Holiness." A mage from the Sanctum called out to him. "The Archmage's body is left untouched... so it might surprise you."

Sorin turned to face the mage, eyes filled with sorrow. "Let me see her."

Sorin had seen so many horrors of the war, the bloodshed, suffering, and the true reality of humanity's fight against the demons. He hoped that it would be enough to stomach seeing Neve's state.

The door to her room creaked open, he received a quick farewell from the mage before Sorin could step in.

"...Neve..." he gasped out.

Her body hung lifeless, held by crudely tied knots of fabric. Even in death, her expression remained blank and stoic. The silver eyes that Sorin had grown fond of were devoid of anything, just an empty void.

The people of the Empire believed that taking one's life would result in them not being welcomed to the afterlife. Even the texts at the temple stated that the Gods wouldn't forgive that action.

...But aren't the Gods forgiving?

Sorin stood frozen, a small part of him praying that Neve would stir. But there was only an eerie silence.

As the Saint, it was his task to provide her with a proper blessing. Most especially since Neve had taken her own life, they believed that they needed Sorin's help in helping her rest in peace.

It took Sorin a few minutes to compose himself. He cut off the fabric that was wrapped around the archmage's neck, letting Neve's stiff body fall into his arms.

Neve's body remained untouched by decay, it was as if she was just sleeping. Her skin was frozen to the touch as he closed her eyelids.

The lack of decay even in death was caused by her amount of mana; humanity's life force. Even in death, she remained powerful.

"Is this your freedom?" he whispered.

He took a deep breath to steady himself as he cradled Neve's lifeless body. He gently laid her back on her neat bed, knowing that he had to perform a ritual to ensure her peaceful passing.

Neve had always talked about freedom. In her own way, she had found an escape from the chains of her duty. She was a woman who had saved countless lives... and the moment she failed, she couldn't take the guilt for her actions.

Neve's room within the tower was empty, devoid of any personal touches. An empty shell of a once-powerful mage.

As he started to pray for her soul, a soft light filled with divinity filled the room. He hoped that she had found freedom in the afterlife, away from the mortal realm.

He stood still for a moment as the divine magic slowly faded away. Sorin hoped that it would be enough for her to be at ease.

"I'll see you again someday, Archmage," Sorin smiled.

He turned his attention to the window; for some reason, the skies seemed a little bit darker.

A small part of Sorin changed that day.