Even in Thameland, the First Apostle’s interdiction had only reached Uldar’s Rise, only reaching that distance because Uldar’s Rise had a uniquely potent connection to the god.

How in all the hells then, was someone supposed to cover all of Thameland with an interdiction?

“It would be difficult to include the entire kingdom,” Merzhin said. “But not impossible. The hidden church was able to make interdictions in a foreign land using consecrated soil from Uldar’s Rise, according to Alex. If we were to consecrate certain points around Thameland’s coast—”

“—one could temporarily extend Uldar’s ‘domain’ far enough for an interdiction to cover Thameland’s borders,” Baelin said. “You would not be able to eliminate mana in the entire realm, but it could be denied to a single individual within its borders—and likely only a single individual, since it is such a wide area—as long as the interdiction was very focused.

“Exactly—” Merzhin said.

“I am no Fool, young Merzhin,” the chancellor’s voice was firm. “The amount of divinity that this act would require would be enormous. You would have to channel an ocean's worth of energy through the gate in your soul...causing it to shatter like a dropped egg.”

Merzhin went still, seemingly not breathing.

“But, that’s what you want, isn't it?” Alex asked him gently. “You're trying to die.”

“N-no,” the Saint said uneasily. “I think my soul could handle it. It's just a matter of preparing myself.”

“No, your soul couldn’t handle such an interdiction,” Alex shook his head.

“What do you know about it?” Merzhin glared at the wizards around him.

Isolde stood frozen in place.

Professor Jules had taken a step forward. “Merzhin, you cannot—”

“I am the one who has expertise in divinity,” the Saint insisted. “I have experienced it, unlike the rest of you.”

“True.” Baelin said, patting his own chest. “But, I have engaged with more individuals than I can count, who have used divinity, though I have not focused on the art in the same way a devoted practitioner would. And I have studied my enemies in-depth, as a Proper Wizard would.”

“And I am the most devoted,” the Saint fired back. “I know divinity, and I know my own soul. I know what I can handle, and what I can't. I can handle this: the Mark of the Saint has empowered me.”

“Merzhin, not that long ago, you said you couldn’t channel interdictions at all,” Alex reminded him, continuing to speak in gentle tones. “I was there: and now you're telling me you're going to be able to channel an interdiction that'll cover the entire kingdom? The only way I could see that is if you have a plan that involves just letting your soul shatter…on purpose. I—I noticed that whenever you say you'll be safe—you look away from us. Listen, I’m not going to let you destroy your own soul.”

“I…” he paused. “What choice do we have? We need to stop the Ravener, and we need to do everything we can to make sure it doesn't return. What if you use all of your different solutions, and they’re still not enough? What if its connection to Thameland is what lets it regenerate? Better for my soul to be destroyed, rather than for countless generations to keep suffering.”

Alex’s eyes narrowed through his mask. “You're doing this because of Carey, aren't you?”

“What? What are you—”

“I'd feel guilty too.” The General of Thameland put a hand on the smaller man’s shoulder. A comforting hand. “I'd feel like shit knowing and thinking I’d dedicated my entire life to a god who wanted to kill everyone. A god who’d made a regenerating horror to make sure people worshipped him to keep him alive. A god that never really cared about me. A dead god. ‘If it wasn’t for my dedication to that god, maybe my good friend would still be alive.’ If that’s what you're thinking, well, think again.”

Alex’s voice grew stern. “Carey died for all of us, including you. She wanted you to help us and to heal, not die. You're as much a victim in all of this as the rest of us.”

Merzhin slapped Alex’s hand away from his shoulder. Tears began to run, visible through the lenses of his mask. His breath sounded ragged. “Don't act like you know how it feels! Don't! You don't know how much it hurts!”

“I don't,” Alex said.

“Exactly! And have a care for your hypocrisy,” Merzhin pushed. “The hidden church was tricked just as the rest of us were, and you showed them no sympathy! I do not need it either, because I am the same as them!”

“No. You’re not!” Alex’s voice was like the crack of a whip.

Merzhin startled. “What do you mean, I’m not?”

“They made their choices. Before we found out Uldar was dead, you were helping us.”

“It took Carey’s death to drive me there. Some Saint, I am. My only true friend had to die to allow me to see the light.” Merzhin's slight frame trembled.

“I…” Alex started…then froze.

Some Saint, I am.

“Hold on now,” he said. “Hold on, hold on, just hold on! You don’t have to sacrifice yourself, Merzhin!”

“What?” the Saint looked frightened. “What are you saying to me!”

“Yes, exactly what do you mean Mr. Roth?” Professor Jules demanded.

“Hannah. Hannah was a Saint of Uldar!” Excitement was surging inside him. “And she was a hell of a lot more experienced than you, Merzhin, and now, she's becoming a demigoddess!”

“That divinity would make her soul many times stronger than a mortal’s,” Baelin mused. “Yes…I see. You mean for her to perform the interdiction, Alex?”

“It's a longshot,” Alex said. “But she's getting stronger. If we manage to get her back into the material world—completely—before we fight the Ravener, she could use her connection to Uldar. That’s how the interdiction gets performed without anybody needing to die.”

“Yes…that is brilliant!” Isolde cried. “And her soul would surely be strong enough.”

Baelin nodded. “For an interdiction as focused as the one that would be needed? I believe it would have to be; even demi-deities can accomplish great deeds within their divine domains. Ah…and as a matter of fact…worship of her is spreading throughout Thameland. She might be able to perform the interdiction twice: once, with Uldar’s power, and another time with her own.”

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“We would need her here, in the material world, though.” Professor Jules began to pace. “Can we guarantee that we can bring her back?”

“Not…” Alex paused, thinking quickly. “Faith in her is spreading, she’s growing stronger and…wait, I have an idea. Even if we don't get her back beforehand, we can use—”

Suddenly, the Saint let out a mournful cry. “Then I can't atone like that!”

Burying his face in his hands, he rushed from the lab.

“Merzhin!” Isolde called.

“I'll go after him,” Alex said. “Shit, this was my fault.”

“We will stay here, then,” Baelin said. “We can continue working on the poison.”

“Alright, thanks,” Alex said, teleporting from the room.

It didn’t take the young archwizard long to find the Saint of Thameland. Merzhin had already left the outer lab and was on the final step leading to the Castle wall.

Alex felt panic rising.

Oh no.

The General of Thameland teleported onto the wall, appearing in front of the Saint. “Don't do that,” was all he said.

The Saint had ripped off his mask and his chest was heaving. He gave the General an offended look. “I'm not planning on doing what you’re thinking,” he said. “It would be pointless and wouldn’t absolve me of what I’ve done anymore than any other useless gesture. I came up here to think. To breathe.”

“Oh, then breathe away,” Alex stepped aside. A quick glance at the Saint’s body language showed he was being truthful. “But, if you don't mind, I'm going to stay here just in case you change your mind.”

Merzhin grunted, pushing past Alex and walking across the wall, and leaning against the parapet. The General followed him, staying near.

It was wet. The rain had stopped.

For a time, the two young men were silent.

Then Merzhin broke it, angrily. “You had to do that, didn't you?” He shook his head accusingly. “It would have been so perfect. So beautiful. A sacrifice, like Carey’s in exchange for what I did to her. But now, if I were to do what I was thinking of, it would be for my own selfishness.”

The Saint gave a low, bitter laugh. “I know that there’s wisdom in Hannah performing the interdiction instead of me. If I did it, then there would be a good chance that it wouldn’t work at all—because my soul might break too soon. Which would make my sacrifice pointless at best, and useless, at worst. I agree, Hannah is the far better choice, and I admit that, even as I’m considering ways to pour as much strength into her as I can, almost against my own will.” He said despondently.

“You want to make amends,” Alex said. “But now, if you do what you wanted to do—when there's another solution—you'd be doing it for yourself.”

“Rendering my deed pointless,” Merzhin finished. “Was I born into this world simply to make mistakes? Is that it? Was I born only to make myself and others miserable? Nothing seems to turn out the way it should. I follow a deity, and he turns out to be a monster. I trust fellow members of my church, and they turn out to be villains. The enemy I dedicated my life to destroying is in league with the god I worshipped. I was responsible for getting my own friend killed. I abhorred you, yet apparently, you are not only my rightful commander, but one of the few people who have been working consistently to eliminate this land’s plague from the beginning. I was isolated from the other Heroes because I was unpleasant to be around. Why?”

Merzhin turned to Alex. “Why do you show no ire toward me, while the hidden church experienced only wrath from you? I asked you this before, but you never answered me.”

Alex looked at Merzhin for a long moment. “And how many people did the hidden church kill? Hm?”

“I do not know. If we consider how many historical members of the hidden church there could have been, the number is likely uncountable. We will probably never know how many the current generation has killed.”

“That’s right,” Alex continued. “And, here’s the thing. They never changed their ways. The First Apostle never changed, even after he saw Uldar’s corpse; he just became more rabid. You're a victim like the rest of us, because you didn’t do what they did. You changed. When Carey died, you started making different choices. They doubled down, no matter who died, or who they killed. You're a good person with a good heart, Merzhin, and that heart was led astray.”

“Kind words,” Merzhin scoffed. “But, I find them hard to believe. Within myself, my emotions and soul churn. My life has lost its meaning several times over; I thought I could return meaning to it by atoning…”

The Saint looked at Alex. “Carey was lost for a time; she struggled too. Then, when she sacrificed herself, she found peace. I want that…peace and penance. I'm not sure I will ever have either.”

“…I don't know,” Alex said. “For what it's worth, I think—if you're looking for penance—erasing Uldar’s evil legacy is about the best penance anyone could ask for.”

“And peace?” Merzhin’s voice broke. “What about peace? How do I live with what I've done?”

“…all I can say is that I don't think Carey found peace because she died,” Alex said. “I think she found peace in the Traveller. That was her way to peace, but I guess everyone's got their own path to get there.”

“What was yours?” Merzhin asked.

“Mine?” Alex let out a bitter laugh. “I'm not at peace right now. I'm a big ball of worries, anger, excitement…just emotions. Sometimes sorrow. Sometimes grief. I just keep walking forward.”

“How?” Merzhin asked. “I have nightmares every night lately. They follow me into my waking moments. My entire existence is guilt and grief.”

Alex winced. “I've been there.”

“You have?”

“My parents died in a fire,” Alex said grimly. “I saw it.”

“Oh…I am sorry, I didn’t know that,” the Saint said. “Normally, I would hear of your troubles and offer you wisdom and comfort—as I did with those who came to me when I was still living in the church. But, I don't think I can comfort you or anyone else right now.”

Alex shook his head. “It’s not about you comforting me. I only brought up what happened to my parents to show you that I've been in that dark place too. My pain was in the past, but yours is here and now. We're talking about you; it’s not about me right now.”

Merzhin gave him a wan smile and sniffed. “Thank you for that. If only your words were an incantation that could help me feel better.”

“What do you want, Merzhin?” Alex asked then, watching Merzhin’s body language. “You say you want peace and penance, but what does that look like? How would you know that you’ve found your peace?”

“I would be able to focus,” the Saint said. “I wouldn’t be listless, and I would have more energy to go forward. My thoughts would not turn to self-destruction, and I could…have space in my mind to think.”

“Space in your mind to think…” Alex paused. “I might be able to help you with that. I have a technique that I wish I’d known back when I was grieving my parents. It might be able to help you: it helps me get through my own thoughts, and continue with what I have to do.”

“It sounds like something that could be of benefit to me,” Merzhin said. “Something I can do.”

“It's not a magic fix,” Alex said. “It's just a simple meditation technique, if you’re still interested?”

“I am.”

“Alright, then I want you to close your eyes,” Alex said. “What we're going to do is have your soul come to complete rest: that’s what I did when I harvested parts of my soul…”

“What? You did what?” Merzhin looked at him horrified.

Alex waved the Saint’s shock away. “Nevermind, forget I said that. Anyway, close your eyes. First, I want you to focus your attention on your body. Starting with the crown of your head, I want you to move your attention down. You're going to bring your attention to your eyebrows, then, your eyes, then your mouth, your neck, then to the feeling of your robe on your shoulders, your chest, your legs, and then your feet. You’ll feel the weight of your feet in your shoes and as you do, I want you to take a deep breath—breathe in for four seconds, hold the breath for seven seconds, and then breathe out for a count of eight. Alright? What we’ll be doing is called a grounding technique.”

“Understood,” Merzhin said. “And what if unwanted thoughts come into my mind?”

“Acknowledge them,” Alex said. “Let your mind acknowledge their existence, then let them pass over you like water over rock. Acknowledge them without judgement: a simple, ‘this thought is here’ is enough. That will help calm the emotion tied to such thoughts. Alright?”

“Alright,” Merzhin said, his eyes closed.

“Okay,” Alex said. “I'll lead you.”

With that, the General of Thameland led the Saint through his first meditation and grounding exercise, keeping count of his breaths, guiding his attention over his own body, and bringing him back to the present.

The archwizard performed the exercise as well, both of them breathing as one.

Calm spread through Alex…and he noticed Merzhin’s breathing become more even. His sniffles calmed, his body language relaxed.

After a time, Merzhin opened his eyes.

“I feel better, calmer,” the Saint sounded surprised. “Much better. …more at peace.”

“You're clearing some of the power from your emotions,” Alex said. “That's what life enforcement practitioners do.” A thought struck the General. “You might want to do that exercise regularly: and with enough practice, you'll be able to use it all the time. It'll help give you some relief, and calm your soul.”

“Yes…calm the soul,” Merzhin said. “Perhaps it’ll be a good way to strengthen my soul-gate as well. Yes, I think I'm going to include it in my daily prayers.” He smiled weakly. “Thank you, General. I think this will help me greatly—”

His words abruptly stopped when a blinding light suddenly flared to life on his body, illuminating his robes.

His Mark—the Mark of the Saint—burned bright, shining like the rays of the sun.