The city of Derut had various nicknames, the most common being Land of the Bare or the Barelands, which derived from its peoples' distinct lack of godly power. No one knew who originally coined the name, but any Altan citizen could tell you what it meant. Derutons were empty, forsaken, a people who had been forgotten by The Sea.

To Maruble, the name had a different meaning. He had been raised in Athema's temple, which stood in the center of Derut, and spent his days brushing red sand from his clothes. When he looked out at those blistering dunes, the nickname spoke for itself: it was a land of nothingness—swallowed completely by sand. A place his fire couldn't touch.

When he wasn't with the Goddess of Sight in Derut, Maruble stayed at Theon's Chain. His father's domain was surrounded by a range of volcanic mountains that held little vegetation and was mostly made up of molten rock. There were boulders, crevices with shimmering gemstones, and pebbles small enough to fit in the palm of his hand. But, at the end of the day, they were still just rocks, and it was only marginally more tolerable than the forgotten city.

Tolerable—but still torturous.

The God of Fire's power begged him to consume, to burn everything around him to ash. Looking back, he was raised in the only parts of Alta that were not made for him, and he felt that ache deeply every day of his childhood: not only did his mother's people dislike him, but he didn't belong in their city; not only did the God of Volcanics not understand that fire and lava were not the same, but he trapped his son in a world where his godship was ignored. It was baffling, and Maruble never understood why his parents forced him to live in such places.

At least, not until now.

Maruble ducked as a branch cracked above him but didn't fall. All around, the forest hissed angrily as waves of fire swept across the trees and devoured them. It was so hot that his clothes clung to him uncomfortably and made it hard to breathe. He blinked, and the ash slid across his eyes like shards of glass. The world was a hellscape of smoke, flame, and ruin.

Another distant scream.

It was louder now, but Maruble looked left to right uncertainly. Stepping over a trail of fire, his hands shook as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. They were getting close. Truthfully, he was scared to know what state Jacob would be in when they found him, and by the look in Sarah's eyes, she was thinking the same.

"It came from over there," she choked out. Sarah's voice was hoarse from the fire, and—even if she didn't say it—Maruble knew she was struggling. She hadn't been able to stop coughing since they entered the flames, and both of her eyes were bloodshot. Even still, she kept her chin raised as she trudged past him.

"I think we're close," murmured Maruble, "but it's hard to see through the damned smoke."

Sarah froze. Slowly, she pushed out, "Do you hear anything?"

"There's nothing."

Her gaze was panicked as she met his eyes. "The screaming stopped."

Taking a shuddering breath, Maruble took off into a run, and Sarah followed close behind. Thoughts barged into his mind—dark and unwanted thoughts—but he shoved them back down as they raced toward the mountain. Jacob had to be alive, he told himself as they skirted around a burning log. He had to be.

Sarah shielded her eyes from a plume of ash and coughed out, "It came from over here. Do you see anything?"

Maruble hesitated. Yes, he could feel it. The source of the fire was nearby. Without thinking, Maruble moved toward a wall of flame and reached out his hand. There was something almost familiar about it—the way the fire bubbled and hissed. The thought itched at the back of his mind until a voice interrupted his thoughts.

"He's in there, isn't he?" asked Sarah, studying Maruble quietly.

He didn't meet her gaze. "I'm going in, and I don't want you to follow me this time."

"It's too dangerous," she blurted out, taking a step back from the flame's heat. "We don't even know if he's in there. And if he is..."

It might already be too late, and I don't want to lose you, too. The unspoken words drifted between them.

"Promise me you'll stay safe."

Sarah looked from him to the wall of flame. Despite the horrors surrounding them, when she met his eyes, there was a light that burned brighter than the wildfire. A single tear rolled down her cheek, carving a clean path through the ash. "We're going to make it out of here. And when we do, Jacob is so dead."

"When I find him," said Maruble, a smile tugging at his cheeks, "I'll kick his ass myself."

With that, he jumped through the flames.

The world around him changed instantly. Before, Maruble was surrounded by smoke, chaos, and burning—but here, there was only silence. A ring of fire surrounded him, and the wall seemed to grow larger after he jumped inside.

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In the center of it all was Jacob. Maruble's heart pounded as he stepped closer. His friend looked awful: there was a large gash on his cheek seeping blood, and he was covered from head to toe in ash. Staggering forward step by step, a horrible realization washed over him—Jacob wasn't moving. Maruble fell to his knees next to him. Shaking the boy gently, he stammered, "Jacob, you have to wake up—we have to get out of here."

He didn't move, but to the God of Fire's relief, there was a steady rise and fall to his chest. Hurt—but alive. Maruble could live with that. The only thing left to deal with was the god who caused all of this, and looking at the wall of flame, his worry shifted into simmering anger.

"I didn't know the God of Death was so cowardly," Maruble roared into the burning forest. He stood slowly. "Show yourself, Noctavius!"

The God of Fire summoned flames to his hand.

All his life, the only thing Maruble wanted to do was burn. He wanted to set the world around him on fire. His mother's people didn't understand him, his father didn't understand him, and it seemed like nobody in the world cared for what he had to say—until he met Sarah and Jacob.

They never knew that he was a god or could command fire to his will. The two of them thought that he was just another human, and yet they looked at him and saw someone worth listening to. Someone worth seeing. Perhaps—all along—that was what he really wanted.

To be seen. To be heard.

Anticipation writhed in his gut, but Maruble knew what he had to do.

Focusing on the fiery wall that surrounded him, he raised his hands. Instead of pushing out his flames like he normally did, Maruble gathered all of his strength, and then he closed his fists. He took a deep breath, and then he pulled.

Fire rushed into him. All at once, Maruble felt like he was both a beacon of light and burning alive. The blood under his skin boiled as he pulled more and more fire into him. He screamed in agony as his skin felt like it was baking—but it was working. Even through his pain, he could tell that the fire had shrunk considerably and was getting smaller by the second. He was death and life—light and darkness. Blood dripped from his palm as he clenched his fist tighter and welcomed the flames into his person.

Then, something shifted.

There was a tingling sensation—almost unnoticeable at first. Slowly, it grew stronger and stronger until the feeling was almost dizzying. The more fire that he consumed, the more his body hummed with power—true power. Something he had never felt before in his life.

He risked a glance over at Jacob. His friend's face was completely covered in blood now, and if he couldn't see the rise and fall of his chest, then Maruble would have thought he was dead.

Perhaps, all along, Balance had been right: gods didn't belong among humans. When they interfered, they only caused bloodshed and misery. All of his ideals about ruling over the weak had been silly and wrong—the whims of a child. And now, because of him, one of his only friends had been hurt.

None of it should have happened.

If he had never set the mountain on fire, he would have never met Sarah and Jacob. Never caused them pain. Thinking about it now, it was only because of the Goddess of Memory that they believed him to be their friend at all, which was only further proof of Alta's tampering. He had no right to call himself their friend—he knew that now.

Wasn't that what his father had always preached? Protect humans, but don't get involved. Do what you can from a distance and return home to the godlands. Maruble clenched his jaw, pulling the fire harder and harder until it singed his skin. And yet, if he had not come here, he would have blindly followed Death's plan. The two of them would have overtaken the Court of Balance and burned this world to the ground. Maruble couldn't bring himself to regret his time on Earth, not after everything he'd been through, but he could grow. He could use his strength to stop Death's madness.

Taking a deep breath, he put his entire body into a pull. It was like grappling with the sun. As the fire shrunk, a new wave of hope passed over him, and the fire became one with his soul. He was the God of Fire—not a human. No matter how much he wanted to run and hide, he had an obligation to use his power for good. For humans like Sarah and Jacob. He called the wildfire to him, taming it to his will, until the wall of fire vanished in a swirl of smoke.

Maruble fell to his knees.

His body felt raw, as if all his skin had been eaten away, but he knew it was only a feeling. The strange markings from the church had stretched to his palms, and both of them were charred black—further proof of what he had done. He tore his eyes away from his hands and looked up slowly.

Sarah watched him in shock. Carefully scooting around the area where Maruble had fallen, she ran towards Jacob and crouched down next to him. She gently patted his face and spoke soothing words, but still, he didn't move.

"Well done, God of Fire." A clap came from within the woods, and the God of Death slowly approached. He wore the same dark robes from before, but this time—instead of the antler mask—he wore a crown of bones. Despite his smirk, there were dark lines under the god's eyes. "It seems like, even now, you are full of surprises."

Maruble spat, "What was the point of all this? Was all of it really just to get back at me?"

"To get back at you?" repeated the God of Death with a snort. "Of course not, I only wanted to test your resolve. You were so determined to give up your godship and become human—and yet, you couldn't even save your friend without using your power."

From behind him, Sarah's voice trembled. "Who are you? What do you want?"

Maruble tried to move toward her, but his body wouldn't budge. He had used too much of his strength. Now, the God of Death was standing in front of Sarah and Jacob, and he was unable to help.

"It is the fate of all humans to stand before me, eventually." Death walked over to Jacob, ignoring Sarah's cold look. "For some, that time comes sooner than others."

"Don't you dare touch him," Maruble shouted.

A pulse cracked through the air—not unlike a heartbeat. Sarah tumbled backward and stared up at Death in horror. Maruble tried to move again, but his body was completely drained, and all he could manage was raising his hand in Death's direction. He called to his power and willed it to him, but there was nothing left. Then, a light appeared above Jacob's chest.

It was small and fragile, as if it would shatter at the faintest touch. It floated into Noctavius' hand. The God of Death clutched it tightly and smirked.

Jacob's soul.

"I'll be taking this," said Death. He waved his hand, and a trail of fire rose between them. "You can thank your father for the fire, by the way. The God of Volcanics has been very useful in aiding my cause. He's doing a fantastic job of filling the gap that you left—even if he doesn't know it."

With that, Death flickered away.

Sarah screamed.

She leaned over Jacob's body, shaking him and crying. Maruble turned his head to her slowly. Sarah wailed and buried her face in Jacob's chest, in the same place the ball of light had hovered before. The world spun as she looked at him with hatred and accusation. Tears streaming down her face.

Through sobs, she whispered, "Jacob's dead."