A low, mournful horn sounded over the far shore. It sounded muted and Sarah wasn’t sure if it was due to the mist or her own dulled senses. The mist was so thick that Sarah could not even see the waters of the lake beyond the walls and wondered what the orcs were doing on their end.

“It’s a good thing we didn’t make a run for it,” Stanley remarked, “We’d have no chance of getting anywhere in that soup.”

Sarah nodded absently, wondering how far the mist extended and just how much magical power was needed to create and maintain such a thing. She began to brood. She had been so determined to free herself from Agni that she had forgotten how much sweat and tears had gone into mastering the magical arts. Now that she had been cut off from the world of magic, she couldn’t help but feel a little sad.

“Miss me already, do you?” Sarah blinked.

She was lying on the familiar stone floor. The altar was gone, and only the statue remained. It was small, like a child and no longer riding its massive warhorse.

“No,” she replied defiantly, “Though I will admit I will miss being able to wield your fire.”

“I have to admit, I did not expect my brother to trap me in this way,” the voice remarked.

“You sound amused,” Sarah observed, “Won’t this development endanger you?”

“It could well be fatal for me,” the voice admitted, “But I am impressed that my brother would do such a thing. I bare him no malice for what he’s done. I would not have hesitated to do the same if the tables were turned.”

“Can gods die?” Sarah asked.

“I won’t be the first nor the last of the divine to perish,” the voice rumbled, sounding strangely content, “besides, I have been around since the very beginning. The people of Sera Thun have provided me with no end of entertainment. It has been a satisfying existence…”

“You seem remarkably unconcerned about your death,” Sarah remarked. “What will happen to you?”

“I will enter the void,” the voice replied, “And a new God of Fire will be born.”

“Excuse me?” Sarah breathed.

Sarah could sense Agni’s amusement. “Yes, as with Treto, a new God of Fire and War will be born. There are remarkable parallels between our fates…”

“What do you mean?” Sarah demanded as a ball of ice formed in her stomach.

“My divinity is trapped in your body. When my soul moves on, the divinity will remain….” The voice replied.

Sarah felt her panic rise. “You mean I will be the next God of Fire?”

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“Yes,” the voice laughed. It was a soft, mirth filled chuckle.

“But I’m severed!” Sarah cried.

“Yes, your body is,” the voice laughed, “And when it perishes, your soul, combined with my divinity will be free to use the channels of magic and travel to the realm of the gods.”

“Why can’t your divinity and soul just do that when I die?” Sarah demanded.

“I am one of the First,” the voice rumbled with no little pride, “My spirit cannot survive in this realm without being connected to the divine, whereas yours can.”

“Why even come here then?” Sarah cried. Her emotions were in turmoil. She thought she had just freed herself from the God of Fire and now she was learning she had to take His place.

The voice laughed boisterously. “What is life without taking a chance here and there?”

“Will my soul be able to survive in the other realm without ties to this one?” Sarah asked.

“You’ll have to find that out for yourself,” the voice replied, “my consciousness is fading, and my long existence is finally coming to an end. I leave these words with you: The Drow cannot be permitted to sit on the throne.”

“What does that mean?” Sarah asked, feeling overwhelmed by what she had just learned.

She woke up with a start and saw that it was already morning. She turned around and saw that she was alone in the room. Outside, the mist was still present, and it appeared as if nothing had changed on the walls below. She looked out in the direction of the far shore and was still unable to discern anything, but she was sure the orcs were still there… plotting. How would they attack? Gareth and the elves seemed confident enough that they would be able to defend the city, and she had no choice but to put her faith in them, but how long would it be before she and Stanley were allowed to leave?

Leave and do what? Become the next God of Fire? She shook her head. That would only be an issue when she died, if Agni could be believed, and it was difficult to believe him. Upon her death, would people be bowing down to statues of her and call upon Sarah Wycombe to intervene in their lives? It all seemed so far-fetched. Besides, she still had this life. She could do with it as she pleased, living with John, and perhaps finding a way to pass this divinity over to someone else. She was still young and had plenty of time, after all. She decided she would look on the bright side and treat it as a new adventure to embark upon.

Not that her current adventure was over. She had to find a way to escape this place and return to Mithia. To Golton. Perhaps John was waiting for her there. Probably not, she smiled to herself. Knowing him, he’d be off having adventures of his own. Perhaps meeting someone else on his travels…

“No, he would never do that,” she said out loud.

“He would never do what?” came Stanley’s voice from the doorway.

Sarah turned to see the lanky man waiting politely at the threshold. “Oh nothing,” she replied, feeling her cheeks colour, “I just had a dream.”

“That your boy was off exploring the world with some sweet young thing on his arm?” came the amused reply.

“No,” Sarah snapped. She couldn’t keep the anger from her voice even though she knew that was what the gaunt faced man was after.

“Did anything happen last night?” she asked quickly, wanting to change the subject.

Stanley walked into the room and shook his head. “All quiet as far as I can tell. I spotted a group of elves hopping over the wall, but they all returned an hour or so later.”

“I don’t see how they can lose If they can see in the mists while the orcs can’t,” Sarah remarked as she strained her eyes, trying to see if she could spot anything in the thick mists.

Another horn blared. This time, it came from the wall. Sarah watched as the mist began to billow into the wall, filling the city quickly, up to the top of the wall.

“It looks like you spoke too soon,” Stanley observed as he joined her at the window.

“What do we do now?” Sarah asked as she struggled to contain her panic.

“What else can we do?” Stanley asked sourly, “We’re trapped up here.”