505.71 years earlier...

At the Mana Rift, End of the Second Age of Pent

Questellion Bloodbreaker stood on a precipice overlooking the massive abyss. Below, glowing purple ripples of Mana shimmered and flared through the darkness, made even darker by the cold black of night.

The green flesh of his orc skin tingled, craving the liquid power that resided below. Less bound and restricted than Heroic Energy. There was so much of it. Perhaps even limitless.

Not that I can use it anyway.

Mana was the source of magic for Monsters, not Humanoids.

He looked away from the Rift. Even if he could access that energy, he would not abuse it. That's no longer who he was. The name remained, a shadow of the acts from his youth—Bloodbreaker. But now he dedicated his life to more than rage, power, and destructions.

He sought unification. Peace.

Yet my decisions today threaten all that I've worked for.

It was always an impossible task, but he'd made so much progress.

The ground rumbled and he steadied himself. A few cracks formed in the rocks at his feet.

"We cannot hesitate any longer, Questellion," a commanding voice said behind him.

He turned to the King of the humans. "Regicast, are you sure this is what must be done?"

King Uthen Regicast held a hand to the sky, his sapphire cape billowing around his polished silver armor in a fierce wind that threatened to rip it from his back. "The Creator has spoken to me. The Circle of Pentory has voted. We must close the Rift."

"Not all were included in that vote," Questellion yelled above the howling wind.

King Regicast scowled. "Cepheus isn't one of us."

"He’s part of the Circle. And this affects him the most. Along with the rest of the Monster races." He gripped his knotted wooden staff tighter, scarring it with his nails. The Flame War had been over for decades. As a mage, it was his responsibility now to ensure that peace and balance between the Monster and Humanoid races continued, even if he was a Humanoid himself. "This doesn't sit well with me."

"I understand your doubts. I truly do. But the time to act is now. It is the Creator’s will. And you voted for this path yourself, Questellion. "

I did. Before this became a clandestine operation. When I thought we'd take the time to bring the Monsters on board and aid in their transition. But now...

Regicast motioned for the other members of the Circle of Pentory to come forward. The Circle consisted of the leaders of each of the five Humanoid races—human, dwarf, troll, elf, and himself, the orc representative—plus Cepheus who spoke for the Monsters. All but Cepheus were here now. All were waiting for Questellion's next action.

"The Rift is tearing this world apart," Regicast said. "Perhaps not tomorrow, or the next day, but soon."

"We can find another home through the Gates, as our ancestors once found this one," he said.

It was his last ditch effort to dissuade the Circle. But the answer was plain on their faces. No one wanted to lose another home. No one wanted to start over. I don't blame you... Their ancestors had come here with nothing and built a kingdom rivaling the Creator's own.

And this was the central realm. All the Gates were homed here. If this world collapsed, there was no telling what would happen to the worlds beyond the other Gates. In all likelihood, they would be destroyed as well.

There truly is no choice. He sighed and held out a hand. "Give me the lazurite."

The Elf Lord Savrenias stepped forward and removed a large blue chunk of crystal from within his white flowing robes. "You're making the correct choice," he said as he dropped the gemstone into Questellion's outstretched hand. "For all of us."

It was heavy in his palm, not only physically, but the weight of this moment made it feel like a blacksmith's anvil. The lazurite pulsed with a brilliant glow, the Heroic Energy within begging to be released. This lazurite crystal was paired with another, housed under constant guard at the Altar of Heroes. It contained all the Heroic Energy acquired from the realms beyond the Gates—enough energy to close the Rift. The constant flow from the pairing would keep it closed forever.

He held the lazurite above the Rift and began the chant.

Lightning cracked in the sky, followed not by thunder, but by a demonic roar.

All looked up. Against the backdrop of storm clouds, a silhouette appeared.

A dragon.

Questellion's heart sank to his feet, feeling as if it might bore through the cliff and into the abyss below.

This is as I feared. And it will not end well.

He knew this intruder of their ceremony. The dragon went by many names: Shield Melter, Creator of the Glass Desert, Guardian of Saladim's Tomb. He knew him by another name. Cepheus.

My friend.

Cepheus roared again as lightning flashed. He swooped down over the Humanoid leaders, causing them to duck, and landed on the opposite side of the Mana Rift. He was a picture of strength and power, more massive, by far, than even the great Dendraxyl Tree. As he stretched his head high, the muscles in his legs and shoulders flexed, talons extended, digging into the rocky terrain.

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Yet this was not what scared Questellion. No. It was the hate radiating from the dragon's eyes that made his legs tremble.

This would not end well indeed.

"Regicast!" Cepheus bellowed, making the raging wind sound more like a gentle breeze by comparison.

"Ah, Cepheus," the King muttered, more annoyed than anything. "How nice of you to join us."

"What are you doing here?" The dragon folded his wings, but kept them tense, ready for the worst.

"What must be done."

"I told you," Cepheus said. "You will not be closing the Rift."

"The Circle of Pentory voted and—"

"I care not for your cursed Circle. This is not a matter of voting." Cepheus stomped his feet into the edge of the cliff, causing more cracks to form, anger seething into his voice. "This is a matter of livelihood, survival. It will alter the balance of power forever. You cannot do this to the Monster races. I will not let you. Without magic, we are nothing."

"You think so little of your fellow Monster, Cepheus? You will still have your claws, your wings, your fists." Regicast smiled devilishly. "If anything, this will balance the power."

Something in the King's voice made Questellion shudder. Doubt crept back into his thoughts. After all, how did they know for certain the Rift would cause the world to rip apart? The Monsters lived with the Rift long before we arrived in this land. But now we're changing things, because the Creator spoke to Regicast in a vision?

This was not unheard of. Each member of the Circle of Pentory had visions from the Creator, even Cepheus. But now he wondered... Did Regicast truly experience the vision he spoke of? The blasphemy of such a lie would be beyond reckoning. Would he stoop that low for power—to get the Monsters out of his way and dominate this world completely?

The human King had always been ambitions, almost to a fault. But this? If his suspicions had merit, this was beyond anything Questellion thought him capable of.

He shook his head to rid the ridiculous thoughts. No. I've known Regicast nearly my entire life. He would not do this.

Cepheus turned his attention to Questellion. "My friend," he began, a pained tone tugging on the betrayal in his heart. "If you go through with this, I will have to stop you."

"I know," Questellion whispered.

The world shook again, rocks groaning as if it were imminent the land would shred to pieces.

"Just look around," Regicast yelled. "It's already begun!"

He was right. The cracks grew like shattered ice and the Rift expanded by the minute. Even if Regicast was lying about the vision, the destruction here was clear.

There was no other choice. It was either the Monster's Mana or the entire world.

"I'm sorry, Cepheus." Questellion held up the lazurite and began the chant again.

The dragon roared and leapt into the air, his wings pumping furiously. He cleared the Rift in an arc and dove toward him.

A funnel of flame erupted from his mouth.

Questellion deflected it with a shield of energy, though he still felt the heat from the blast threatening to melt his skin.

He continued the chant, holding the lazurite with one hand, and with the other, raised his staff high, calling forth lightning. The bolt lurched through the air, leaving a steaming trail in its wake.

Cepheus dodged it with a twirl of his wings and landed on the near side of the Rift.

The Circle of Pentory quickly surrounded the dragon, but Cepheus did not seem intimidated. Instead, he spat a wave of fire at his attackers. Regicast and the others had come prepared for a potential battle. They raised their shields, allowing the fire to wash over them.

Questellion watched from the edge of the Rift, far enough away from the action that he could continue the chant uninterrupted.

Or so he thought.

Cepheus whipped his tail to its full length, striking his back. Questellion stumbled forward toward the abyss, teetering precariously on a heel, his arms flailing for balance.

Then the last sliver of ground beneath his foot gave way to the quakes, and he slid over the edge of the Rift.

He twisted his body as he fell and released the staff, grabbing his now free hand onto an outcropping of rock at the edge of the cliff. His chest thudded against the side of the crack, too close to being lost forever into the rippling sea below.

He glanced down, however, and watched his precious staff sink into the Mana and disintegrate.

He still held the lazurite tight in his other hand. Thank the Creator. If he'd dropped that, this would all have been for nought.

The ground shook again. The purple liquid below bubbled and burst, sending a spray of raw Mana up. Questellion tried to pull himself away, but the splash coated his left leg. Heat and cold radiated from the contact all at once.

He hauled himself up to solid ground and leaned against a cluster of stone. The bottom portion of his robe, pants leg, and boot had completely deteriorated, looking as if eaten by flame. The leg itself remained, but had blackened like the void from the knee down. No shadow or light reflected there, nothing except intricate neon swirls of purple around his calf and heel.

Damn. What is this poison?

He could still feel his leg and the pressure of the ground against his skin. His fingers lingered above the darkened skin until he curled them back into a fist, refusing to touch the... whatever it was. Will it spread? Can it be removed? It doesn't matter right now. Not the time.

By the time he composed himself, the ongoing battle had taken a turn for the worse. Both the Troll Chieftain and Dwarf Lord lay motionless, the latter with armor red hot and steaming from a direct blast of molten fire.

The dragon turned his attention to Regicast, now pushed back against a large boulder. If the entire Circle was killed, the world would fall into chaos regardless of the Rift being open or closed.

But I have no weapon.

Questellion watched helplessly as Cepheus thrashed his claws against the King's shield until it ripped free of his arm and clanged to the ground out of reach.

King Regicast stood defenseless, breathing heavily, but eyes fierce with determination.

Wait. I do have a weapon.

Questellion looked to the lazurite in his hand, still pulsing with Heroic Energy as if calling to him. It was the same magic his staff used, though not connected to the primary source like this enchanted piece. He didn't know what would happen if he tapped into the lazurite to perform magic. But I'm out of options.

He raised the gemstone above his head and once again called forth lightning.

A surge of power shivered through his entire body. His muscles contracted all at once as his legs gave way beneath him. Sensations of euphoria and agonizing pain battled in his stomach. He didn't know which would win, but feared the worst. His eyes rolled back in his skull and he lost sight of everything.

The zap and crack of the lightning strike brought him back. It felt like minutes had passed, but it must have been less than a second. An impossibly bright light flashed, blinding him momentarily.

This time, the bolt did not miss.

Cepheus collapsed to the ground, his body steaming and convulsing before King Regicast. Flickers of electricity crawled over his scales. His chest rose and fell with each labored, choking breath.

Questellion turned away. I'm sorry, my friend... He didn't even know if he'd done the right thing. I likely never will.

Regardless, after today, the world would be forever changed.

Questellion felt changed as well, the nerves in his leg buzzing. There would be repercussions from that. And from using the paired lazurite as a weapon. He sensed it deep within his body. His soul.

And two of the five Circle leaders dead. The cost of these actions had been high.

The cost of saving a world.

Behind him, Questellion heard King Regicast unsheathing his sword, his armored boots crunching against shattered stone as he approached Cepheus—still breathing, but barely.

Questellion resumed his chant, holding the lazurite above the abyss.

The Rift began to close as a tear fell from his eye.

Even as he continued the chant, only one thought filled his mind.

Regret.