The truth was a funny thing. It was like a many faced demon lurking in the shadows, rearing its ugly head.

As the dust settled on the wrecked battlefield, the scattered people slowly made their way to the centre, where Garyth lay. It was so silent one could almost hear a pin drop.

“You’ve all grown strong… I’m glad,” Garyth whispered, a rare waver in his voice.

“W-What is this… truth you speak of?” Eryian asked quietly.

Garyth chuckled weakly, as he saw Pelos and the others near him, “The reason behind my actions… I did it for Dargon.”

Pelos’ face contorted and he sneered, “What? Even in death you refuse to face your actions?! How cowardly!”

“Look beyond your prejudices, Pelos Worldbringer!” Garyth cried, “You… were the only one of the gods that fought for Dargon. The only one!”

“W-What nonsense are you spewing now?!” Pelos stuttered.

Garyth’s eyes were burning as he said, “I’ve lived two lives now. In my first life, the creator god destroyed Dargon. This life… there is yet a chance to thwart that fate. I have no cause to lie… death will make an honest man of me. Trust my words, please.”

In a soft voice, Aeliyas spoke up, “If you’ve truly… lived two lives… Why have you committed so many misdeeds?”

“All that I have done… was for Dargon’s survival. Demons to unite… the people of Dargon. Me… the mastermind… to unite the gods…”

Garyth took a rattling breath. His face contorted as he tried to draw in a breath, then sputtered and spat out a mouthful of blood.

He coughed, gasped for breath, and rasped, “I-I guess… my t-time has… come. Fin…ally…”

“No! Not like this, Master!” Eryian cried.

Garyth laid a gentle hand on Eryian’s arm and said softly, “This vessel… is c-crumbling… consider t-this as… me taking a… n-new body…”

He continued hoarsely, “We are… i-in the… Ether…”

Garyth’s voice trailed off, his laboured breaths slowed, and his already slack grip loosed entirely as the light faded from his crimson eyes.

There was a beat of silence, then a ghostly spirit rose from his body, visible to everyone. It slowly emerged from the body, but instead of lingering in a translucent state above the body, it solidified.

This was the Ether—the realm of spirits and a world that mimicked the overworld. Here, spirits materialised in solid forms. They lived, they breathed and they could do everything they could when they lived… and more.

But the body that lay dead on the cracked marble floor did not share a likeness with the man who’d emerged as a spirit from that body.

Rather than snowy white hair, he had inky blue-black hair streaked with gold and an unadorned golden crown resting heavily upon his head. Where the body’s silvery tresses had been trimmed short, his hair came to his shoulders and was braided back tightly. In the place of red eyes were his cold, gold-flecked icy blue eyes. Kuban Whiterose had been a modestly attractive man, but Garyth Herus’ true body was undeniably handsome. He possessed a certain ethereal quality not unlike the hauntingly elegant beauty of elves, though Garyth Herus was, without a doubt, human.

Garyth wore a long fur cape in a dark rusty crimson shade held in place by a thick golden chain and a deep purple tunic.

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He cleared his throat, then spoke, “Well, uh… I wasn’t certain it would work as I had hoped, but it appears to have done so.”

Garyth looked up, took one look at the gods, who’d resumed defensive stances, and chuckled, “I cannot harm you anymore, nor would I have any cause to. I am dead. The dead cannot harm the living.”

“Allow me to reintroduce myself, as I stand before you all in my true form. I am Garyth Herus, scion of the Herus house and sixth hero king of Dargon. I am many things—a hero, a traitor, a saviour… a murderer… a human, yet… not quite. But I am the man who has seen Dargon fall, and the one who has done everything in my power to change that fate.”

“How could you say such nonsense?! WE made Dargon! We’d know if Dargon was going to be destroyed!” Pelos burst out.

Garyth directed a piercing glare at the god and said with a deadly calm voice, “NOT… if it was the creator god who destroyed Dargon. Even you have no power in the face of the creator god—the founding father of everything!”

Pelos paused and a conflicted expression arose on his face. Garyth could see that the god was beginning to understand.

“It pains me to say this… but what can we do?” Pelos asked quietly.

“Fight for Dargon. All of you. Join hands with the mortals of Dargon… join hands with the other gods. Ally with the demons… the spirits, the undead. All of your creations… you have a duty to protect them!” Garyth said.

Pelos stayed quiet for a moment, silently communicating with his siblings, before he eventually nodded and said, “For now, I shall believe you. We will discuss this further.”

<--<< >>-->

Lirya stood a little unsteadily as her whole body shook. She’d not uttered a word since Garyth had died.

“I-I killed you…” Lirya muttered, her eyes wild as she peered at her clean, though a little dusty, hands like they were covered in blood.

“WHY?!” She cried out, “Y-You were so strong! You could have helped us fight!”

Garyth’s pale eyes showed rare emotion as he took quick strides over to her and wrapped her in a careful hug. Her whole body shook and she’d never looked more frail.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered, patting her back gently, “I’m so sorry I made you do this, Lirya.”

“Y-You lied! You s-said I wouldn’t have t-to harm anyone I c-cared about!” Lirya cried, her sobs muffled by the fabric of his tunic.

Despite the gravity of the situation, her words awoke a warm feeling within him. To hear that she placed him among her list of close people was a bittersweet moment as his regret multiplied a thousand fold to know what he’d made her do.

Garyth mustered up a weak smile and said sadly, “I tried to make you hate me… but I couldn’t. I’m sorry, Lirya…”

<--<< >>-->

“Lord Pelos, may I have a word?” Ariane Herus asked, and when Pelos nodded, she gestured for him to follow her a little away from the chaos of the destroyed palace.

“He’s going to Sinner’s City, isn’t he?” She asked softly, a tremor in her voice.

Pelos nodded slowly.

Ariane surged forward and grabbed the sleeve of Pelos’ robe, pleading, “Please, Lord Pelos! Revoke his sentence, I beg of you! He did it for the good of Dargon!”

Pelos replied, “He has committed many sins. He cannot be rewarded for such behaviour! It’s not right!”

Ariane’s grip tightened as she said, “He suffered for so many years… for Dargon. He could have lived selfishly. But he traded away his soul, piece by piece, until he was nothing but a shell of his former self—ALL FOR DARGON! YOUR beloved creation! Even when Cassiel murdered me… he continued. And for that you would have him suffer for an eternity, unable to rest?!”

With tears in her eyes, Ariane whispered, “Ah… you’re so cruel, Lord Pelos.”

Pelos objected, “Cruel?! I am cruel for this? He upset the balance, he brought demons into Dargon, he disrupted the order of the worlds and HE KILLED MY DAUGHTER!”

Tears now fell freely from her eyes as Ariane murmured, “Did he ever tell you how she died? It was your automatons that killed her. Not Garyth.”

Pelos stiffened and his eyes darkened, his expression stormy.

“You love your creations, don’t you, Lord Pelos?” Ariane said softly, desperately, “He gave his life to save everyone else on Dargon! Please, have mercy on his spirit. Revoke his sentence, Lord Pelos!”

Pelos sighed and hesitated, but eventually said, “Alright. You’re a good speaker, Lady Herus.”

“And you made a good queen,” He said with a soft, genuine smile.