Chapter 18: One Last Gift

Tobias, sitting with his back leaned against one wall, sipped his tea meditatively while Utred and Mavora watched from the lectern quietly.

“Talk to me,” Riley pressed as she nibbled on a spear of tenganut.

“That’s what your third?” Tobias replied before taking a long, slow pull off his tea.

“Let a girl stress eat. I didn’t say we were talking about me,” tractoring the remainder of it into her mouth with her teeth, she pointed her now free paw at Tobias accusingly.

Tobias sighed, “I’m tired of being used. I’m tired of being lied to, Ranger Central, and the Ashen wars. Remember that bloody journal we found? Damn it, this is all bigger than me!”

“It’s quite a thing to find out your God is a bastard..." She began.

Tobias blanched pale. "Riley, Blasphemy!"

Her ears wilted as the feelings of regret surged across their bond.

Like a weight being relieved, Tobias' softening gaze seemed to lift them slightly as she perked up.

"It's not blasphemy, not exactly," she projected a cough, "I'm just playing devil’s advocate... Hey, that’s ironic... um... still... how do we know any of this is real after what just happened?”

Tobias straightened up, “That’s a good point. We’re in Venosimoor, but still, this does seem an odd trap.”

“He used your fears against you and my insecurities. What if he’s using your doubts against you now?” Riley pressed.

“What doubts?” Tobias scoffed.

Riley gently touched his knee, “I call bullshit. We’re still running around calling ourselves Black Blades. The torcs match, but the cape doesn’t. You’ve been angsty since we survived with our asses intact and ended up knighted for our trouble.”

“Fair, but you could barely control yourself against Mavora before, but now that urge isn't there. I'm not certain that could be faked.” Tobias put down his teacup only for his hand to rise toward his chin.

"Yeah, Celestial instinct... It really makes it hard to think in the moment, but can we be sure? How do we know? How do we go forward?" Her ears wilted again as she scanned toward the lectern and then back toward Tobias.

“I propose we go at this with an open mind. Riley, we’re trapped here. Remember the prompt? If we leave, our magic will probably cut out again. We know we don’t want to go back into that cursed holodeck, as you call it. If this is our current cage, it’s a cage that we can work with and get information from.”

“And if this is all real and Utred is telling the truth? If Galdor is a bastard?” Riley challenged.

“Then Galdor’s a bastard,” Tobias blanched before his teacup vanished back into their shared inventory.

Shakily, he rose before his form straightened as if finding solid ground, “We don’t let it change us. We don’t let it keep us from the right. The one thing I do know is I’m done with people telling me what that is. We can decide that for ourselves.”

“Attaboy, and with any luck, we’ll survive long enough for our stubborn to matter,” Riley stretched out before hopping by his side.

“That’s the spirit,” Tobias grinned madly, “Utred, we’re ready to talk.”

“You have our oath and our agreement. What questions do you have of us?” Utred replied, speaking for the both of them.

“What do you want?” Tobias asked, his voice flat and unemotional.

“Wow, that is some ‘me’ level energy. I like it,” Riley quipped.

“You have given us all we could want, young knight. You represent a hope that was only that, a hope, a notion of what could be, not what would be. You have fulfilled my dearest dreams of reuniting us again,” Utred replied.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Utred, I never asked...” Mavora began.

“You never had to; you simply acted and chose, and thus, I did the same. Summer’s Tree was falling, the sacrifice was underway, there was only time for one last choice, and after your mortal body was still, there was only one true path left open for me,” Utred interrupted before looking away.

“And if it had all been naught? What then? You gave your life to power that spell!” Mavora’s wings flared in anger.

“What life did I have left without Damar; without... you? Oswiu took the name the King of Ashes, and that’s truly all that was left. At least this way... my bones could rest near your corrupted soul. Gods know everything else was twisted, so why not my death? Everything was made meaningless; our world died. He took everything. He took you and forced you into the hands of that monster!” Utred quaked, his spectral form shaking with rage.

“So you truly knew Oswiu?” Tobias gasped as Riley stomped on his foot.

“Rude! I used to watch shows like this when I was depressed. Let them have their moment.”

An uncomfortable silence hung like a freezing fog before Utred’s voice crackled like distant thunder. “That is more truth you do not want to hear. Let this rest...”

“We promised them answers,” Mavora reminded.

“No, it’s... I interrupted... I’m sorr... ” Tobias began.

“I knew him. I served under him until he made his choice, and I made mine. The Ashen War was civil and total. It ripped everything apart. The Greyblades and the Black, the Noble houses, we all slaughtered one another... I killed so many friends... People I loved rose as my enemies, and I buried far more who were caught in the middle. Innocents fell by the thousands, including the children of men I called brother. Only one thing kept me going, kept me fighting, and then...” He looked toward Mavora as a spectral tear fell.

“Sentimental fool, you knew what I was. You knew my mission; it was written into the very fiber of my being. I could not count the cost to myself when the world hung in the balance,” Mavora chastised gently before perching on his shoulder.

“And thus you honored your nature, and I honored mine. We have spoken so much of choice, but our destiny was defined by our own souls. It was fated not by the weavers but by ourselves, ” Utred smiled sadly.

“Orlag, fate, choice amidst the currents of destiny,” Mavora’s words fell like a prayer of some half-forgotten creed.

“Just so,” Utred replied with a weary sigh.

Riley looked up at Tobias, her unspoken words racing across their bond, ‘Could that be us?’

Tobias turned and looked down toward her, ‘It almost was. The final fight with Chadrick. It led to our ascension, but I almost lost you.’

She shuddered, her fur puffing out against the spectral chill, all as a shuddering bang seemed to slam into the walls of the sanctuary. A subsonic growl echoed through the space, portending a warning.

A prompt flared to life with words that pixelated and glitched.

This realm is destabilizing under deific assault.

Estimated time remaining until breach: 2 hrs, 56 minutes, 30 seconds...

“Venosicipher... the wardings I have in place will not hold forever,” Utred scanned around as if examining the hard points of the walls.

“And after all of this pain, the fallen Gods still live and seek again war and the selfishness of their purposes. We are no longer in a position to stand and fight; our time is past,” Mavora spat.

“But there is still hope,” Utred looked toward Riley and Tobias as the hawk slowly turned her head.

“One last act of defiance, my sorcerer? One last gift?” Mavora queried.

“Wait, what are you thinking of doing?” Tobias began as Mavora and Utred each bowed their heads.

As the old knight’s hands folded, a strange geometric pattern flowed out from around them in brilliant white light, all as their spirits shimmered, phasing in and out of reality, and a prompt flared to life.

Warning: Unknown magic detected...

A cacophonous boom resounded as the world went white.