Kjormur groaned as he channeled healing light into his leg. He felt the bones snap as the Goddess's light flowed through him. The pain nearly caused him to black out.

As he mended his body, he heard the monster screeching in the distance. He looked up to see the monster running down the river, following something that couldn't be seen. He hoped it was their resident scoundrel buying them time, then prayed that he'd survive. If it was him, En-In had done well. The farther away it was, the longer he had to heal and prepare. He felt the energy of his spell start to dissipate.

"Goddess, preserve us. Let us vanquish this foe," he muttered. A final pop in his knee sent electricity down to his toes, but once the pain subsided, he knew he could stand. He used his mace to stand up. His shield had shattered in the last exchange, so he pulled the remaining pieces off his arm and threw them aside. Once he was on his feet, he searched for the others. Nearby, he saw his uncle on the ground. Farther away was Shani. Those were the only two he could see.

His heart sank.

[Detect Life]

A haze appeared in his vision, allowing him to see the life force of nearby creatures. He sensed A-Nis in the distance. She felt relatively whole. Looking at Shani, he saw that her life force was strong enough, though she'd need healing in the coming days. Firtz, however... He rushed to his uncle's side.

[Heal Greater Wounds]

All but the last wisps of mana left his soul and flowed into the old paladin. The man groaned. His entire breastplate had shattered, and it looked like his chest had shattered with it. Kjormur knew his spell wasn't enough to heal him fully. Firtz stirred for a while, then groaned in pain. As he did, Kjormur watched as the monster leaped over the river, flapped its great wings, and glided into the forest. It landed, shaking the forest itself, and soon after, it was tearing through the trees as if they were little more than twigs.

A terrible thought came to him. How could they possibly stand up against such a foe?

"Boy..." Firtz coughed. Kjormur looked down to see blood dripping from his uncle's mouth.

"Uncle. Be still."

"No lad. I need to help."

"But you're—"

"Quiet boy!" He forced himself up. "The others?"

"Alive," Kjormur said hesitantly.

"Good." The dwarf's jaw set. "The elf?"

"Chasing who I can only assume is En-In through the forest." He pointed. The monster screeched as it ripped through the trees to chase whatever it was that it was chasing.

"The scrawny shit's keeping it busy. Good." His uncle reached for his axe. "You have to cast a spell now. A big one." His uncle pointed at the ball of energy in the sky. "I don't know what that is, but we can't let it complete itself."

"I used almost everything I had left healing you, Uncle..."

"Bah, ye should have left me to rest." Firtz' face softened. They both knew he wouldn't have survived. The old man turned to watch the rampaging monster. As it did, a howl filled the air and was met by hundreds more. He watched as dozens of fey'ra broke from the treeline and rushed north.

"What do I do?" He asked, his voice shaking.

"You must gather your strength." The old dwarf began struggling to rise. He stood for a moment before falling back down.

"Hold still, Uncle!"

Firtz shook his head. "Just... give me a moment." He struggled upright again, leaning heavily on his axe as he did. He managed to stand. "There's still fight left in me, boy." He laughed, but it turned into a cough that caused the man to spit blood. "Happens when yer a goddamn hero." He laughed again, then shuddered in pain. "With you out of mana, I guess I'll have to show you all what I'm made of." His uncle leaned on his axe and limped forward. "I'll get the job done, then I'll smack that elf around from here to the tower and back once I've taken him down a few pegs!"

Kjormur could hear his uncle's bones popping back into place under what remained of his armor. A soft light began to emanate from the man. Firtz was healing himself. In that moment, Kjormur knew he'd never reach his uncle. The man truly was larger than life. he was one of the last true heroes in this world.

Kjormur had so much to learn. "How... can you keep going?"

"I'm a mighty bastard, remember?" His uncle chuckled. More blood fell from his mouth. "You all could learn a thing or three." His uncle lifted his axe. A faint glow began to surround it. Kjormur watched as his uncle's shoulder snapped into place. "In the meantime, you'd best get praying. We've not got long. I can feel it in my bones. Whatever it is up there is beyond any of us, except for you boy." His uncle turned, and his grey eyes met Kjormur's. "You're stronger than you know and blessed by the power that governs this land. If anyone can do it, it's you."

Kjormur turned and watched as the black orb in the sky grew larger. It looked like a small purple-black moonlet. What would happen once it finished doing whatever it was doing? A feeling bubbled up in his gut. Whatever it was, it would likely be the end for them.

The ground swelled, and fissures appeared around them. Black energy oozed out of the earth and rose upward, merging with the thing in the sky. Even more black energy floated from the town. Looking in its direction, he watched as the undead crumbled away, the energy animating them floating toward the thing in the sky. The fey'ra looked confused as their enemies disappeared. Several of their mournful calls filled the night.

A pang of guilt struck him. He had wanted to save as many as he could. He had wracked his brain to think of a way to bring back the dead. He'd failed them.

"Boy." Firtz had followed his eyes. "It isn't your fault. It's not any of ours, not even that damn elf. Sometimes things are bigger than we are, and we don't get to control them." His eyes grew dark. "We don't get to choose our place in this world. We have roles to play, and it's difficult to escape them. You and I had a good run of it. We were born of nobility, raised right. We were both accepted without hesitation by the temple and supported every step of the way. In so many ways, we've been blessed." Firtz' eyes drifted to the monster carving through the forest. "Not all are so lucky."

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"Uncle..."

"Shush, boy. I'm speaking. Let an old man ramble." The dwarf looked at the village again. "We can't keep all people safe from all harm. I wish we could, but no one can. Not even the gods themselves, and much less us. But if we work hard and do our best, then we can protect those closest to us." His grey eyes met Kjormur's. Something was behind them. "Do you want to do that, boy?" Firtz asked him. "Do you want to do what you can?"

His head turned. How could he possibly do this? He wanted to, but how? His heart hammered in his chest. "Yes."

"Then remember this. Sometimes it's our time, and we ought to go willingly into the Goddess's arms." His uncle's grip tightened on his axe. "Don't let it make you bitter. It's how life goes. We live, we support and protect people while we're here, then we go back to the stone. That's the way it is, and that's alright. That day might be today, or it might be a century from now, but it comes for us all. So, never let fear hold you back from what you have to do."

Firtz was right. Kjormur was afraid. Deathly afraid. He'd never felt more fear than that moment. He took stock of it and tried to let it go. He felt some relief and spoke. "Why does it have to be this way?"

Firtz walked up and clasped his forearm.

His uncle's grey eyes met his. "Ye've got a big heart, lad. Bigger than mine by far. Always have. But no one can protect everybody, and we can't save everyone from themselves." His uncle squeezed his arm harder. "It doesn't mean we shouldn't try. And until it's your time, you should live life the best you can and always follow your heart. And I'll be with you every step of the way." A soft smile spread across his uncle's face.

A tear fell down Kjormur's cheek. The weight of what was happening around them hit him like a falling tree. "Uncle..." He threw himself at his uncle, bringing the old dwarf's body to his. The old man hugged him back.

"Now do what you have to do. I believe in you."

His uncle's voice filled Kjormur's heart. It gave him strength. And that wasn't all. He could feel power radiating from his uncle's spirit and filling him. His uncle's heat spread through his whole being, filling him with his warmth. The light in his chest grew brighter as golden light filled his vision. His uncle let go, patted him on the cheek, and turned.

Kjormur looked to the sky. The dark moon continued to swell in the night sky. It had grown twice as large as it had been. The shadows no longer drifted out of the earth like smoke. Instead, they poured like waterfalls into the sky. Small black shapes were forming on the ground, writhing like worms in a mass grave, and some began to hatch into gangly humanoid things. They made him shiver.

He looked upward and gathered every ounce of willpower left in him. "Goddess, help me with this one." In response, he felt even more light enter his spirit. Something entered his mind. It was a spellform he'd never seen. He traced his fingers through the air, creating a glyph that burned brightly in the night. As he did, the area around him illuminated, becoming as bright as the day.

A nearby crash pulled his attention away. He saw two shapes leap over the river, followed closely by the great black beast. In one of their arms, something was squirming. It looked like En-In.

"They're coming."

The old dwarf smiled. "Good, because I'm about to show you kids how it's done." The dwarf roared and charged the monster. As the old man ran, the snap of a bowstring told him A-Nis had joined the fray. A groan to his side revealed that Shani was standing back up. Her movements were unsteady, but her sword was held in front of her. She shouted something in elven and charged.

His friends weren't giving up yet, so neither could he.

He returned to his prayers. The glyph flared. He could feel mana and light coursing through the spellform. He looked back to the evil moon overhead, watching the souls of the dead and the essence of the world swirl around it and enter its core. The orb began to ripple and pulse. Something was coming, and it wouldn't wait much longer. He channeled his energy, but the spell was beyond anything he'd cast before. As he willed essence into the spellform, his thoughts turned to Abad.

They hadn't traveled together for very long. The man often seemed gloomy but was clearly haunted by his past. He oscillated between kindness, superficiality, and brooding, but Kjormur had never sensed malice within him. Instead, the elf seemed adrift. Like many people in this world, he was simply trying to find a way to belong. After the hardships he endured, losing so many so early...

Kjormur had gone to the temple in Farnfoss and read the histories. He'd read the accounts of the War of Shadows. Of all the death and destruction. But, buried in the histories, were footnotes. And there, in one of the footnotes, he read about the purges. Countless lives were snuffed out in a matter of weeks. Tainted or not, family, friends, elderly, children. Thousands were brutally murdered in the name of justice. In the name of the Goddess.

He had wondered since how things might have been different if compassion had governed people's actions instead of hate. Hate and fear and loathing had poisoned people's hearts, and the results were tragic. The elf... Abad was a product of that. Was it truly fair to judge him so harshly? Or condemn him outright for his afflictions? Kjormur didn't think so. How much would be different had people been better? Had they reached out a hand instead of judged?

It was not the place of mortals to judge. Only the Goddess had that gift. It was his lot to forgive. Kjormur would forgive him. He had done what he believed was necessary. He had survived in a world that had done its best to take his life away. Perhaps he'd strayed onto a crooked path by choice, but Kjormur believed all life had worth, even life such as his. Abad deserved peace like every child of the Goddess, but this world seemed determined to deprive him of it. And for that, Kjormur would always feel compassion.

A sharp cry pulled him back to the battle. The two fey'ra had tackled Abad to the ground. He snapped and howled as he tried to fight them off, but they held him down with all their strength. Ice and arrows and steel slammed into it as his comrades pummeled it again and again.

Black energy erupted from his wounds and soared into the orb overhead, feeding it. The monster that was Abad struggled still, but the orb in the sky stole his essence away. Abad had shrunk to half his size and could no longer fight against the onslaught brought to bear against him. Soon, darkness radiated from him in waves. Wherever the shadows touched, the land grew barren, and as it did, the orb above shimmered and doubled in size again.

However, Kjormur wouldn't let that be the end of this tale.

"Please, Mother," He whispered to the Goddess, and his heart filled with her warmth. As he spoke, the Great Tower flared to life, and thick strands of white light emerged from the orb of light and snaked through the sky toward them. The Tower of the Moon, barely visible in the far east, flashed, and the orb at its peak, which had long since gone black, began to glow as well. Silver light poured out of it in long thick strands and into the sky, and the light of the Great Tower and its fellow met high above, the pure white of the one mixing with the pale silver of the other. Then, seven more lights flared in each direction, and more light filled the sky high above, meeting in the sky above the dark moon. Kjormur watched as the sky grew bright as the lights of the towers combined.

"Great Goddess, aid your servant this day," Kjormur cried to the sky. "Help your faithful child vanquish this evil, and guide these poor lost souls back to your bosom!" His prayer finished, and mana and light flooded into his soul. The light of the sigil in front of his hands intensified until it became brighter than the orb at the top of the tower. Tendrils of light high above poured from the sky and into his outstretched hands. Then, it flashed downward, cutting a hole in the black moon above, and for an instant, something was revealed inside. Kjormur's spirit trembled. Whatever was inside that thing, it made every part of his soul scream.

As the light grew, it seemed to Kjormur like every ounce of darkness in the world was pulled into the black moon in response. A terrible thought came to him. This was the final moment. The Goddess and her antithesis would decide the future of this world right then, and he was the fulcrum. He couldn't fail now. The world was in his hands.

He held on with everything he had, and the final word of the spell came into his mind. He visualized it, then let it go.

[Judgment]