Saintess Hildebrand stood over the corpse of her mortal enemy, the revered champion of mankind, the Hero. True to her name, she brandished her sword, endlessly, against everyone, and this was the result. It seemed like mere moments ago she hated him with all the fury of the sun, spitting hatred like venom. But now she collapsed and slumped onto his body, hugging it like the body of a lost friend.

Perhaps at one time they had been friends. Now that he was gone, Hildebrand felt a certain kinship towards the awkward man. It was a familiar, nauseating feeling, one that she got every time they had interacted. It was the same feeling she got when she saw his smile, when she chided him, laughed with him, wagged her finger at him to deny his foolish ideas, played coy with him, placed her hands on him and prayed for his wounds to be healed, and when she shouldered his weight after a dreary battle. It was that feeling she tucked away and hid deep within her heart when she told herself that she was only deceiving a future enemy.

Hildebrand felt it again when she called his name, “Hugo.” That overwhelming, disgusting emotion she didn’t understand.

Hildebrand held his face, feeling the chill of his skin on her icy hands. The blood-red dragon’s eye on his left side had turned a pale, dead blue. She brushed his auburn locks away from his right eye to look into it one last time. His once lively and gentle green eye that evoked the comfort of the warm beach was as dark as the deep ocean abyss.

She had told herself she never felt particularly attracted to him, despite spending years fighting side by side, through thick and thin. Even when his features grew sharper and more rugged, worn by the ravages of strife, she simply turned her gaze away. But looking at him now, Hildebrand thought, He's handsome.

She could understand why the Hildebrand, who only existed in Hugo's memories, fell in love with the younger man. But that was another life, and a different Hildebrand.

***

This Hildebrand was the Saintess who had led her followers in a righteous crusade to seize the power of the gods from the Kingdom of Hess. She coveted the power of Altamea’s Fire, the flaming sword which was said to have been brandished by the Immortal Emperor Apolly to cut down the primordial darkness of night so man could stand in the light of a new dawn. Whoever could brandish it could reshape the world in their own image, or so the story went.

But brandishing it was no simple task. It took an arduous journey through decaying lands ruled by monsters and demented aberrations that were once human, and then a dive into the World’s End, the black sea of primordial chaos that swirled with undying ancient evils. Hugo and Hildebrand made the journey for the sake of the world, not only to save it, but to fix what was broken, to bring back what was lost.

But when the task was completed, the cowardly rulers who sent the young champions into near-certain death argued whether Altamea’s Fire should be used at all. They feared that its power was too much for flawed men, that men lesser than the legendary emperor would only create a more broken world. Although Saintess Hildebrand had agreed with the other rulers to seal it away, she had plotted from the very beginning to seize it and use it to usher in the perfect world.

“I won’t forsake the dead, and the damned!” Saintess Hildebrand told Hugo. “I won’t forsake this world!”

Saintess Hildebrand had righteous motives, of course. She would save the lost souls, both those who were dead and those who still lived in despair. She would create a bountiful world without suffering or pain or hunger, as all good people wished for. No one would starve. They wouldn’t languish in the rain and cold. They wouldn’t hold their empty hands out with their faces in the dirt and trash, hoping for grace from uncaring strangers. Their fingers and toes wouldn’t rot off their living bodies. And they wouldn’t feel the cold embrace of empty arms. She would create a world without evil. Evil was born from cynicism, when people’s hearts grew black and cold, when they resigned themselves to the bleak reality of the world.

“Evil is born from when we turn away from good because it’s easy! When we stop dreaming of a better world!” Saintess Hildebrand told Hugo. “I’ll make everyone happy!”

She didn’t expect him to understand, but she tried anyway. She had heard people call him by many names. Champion, Humanity’s Guiding Light, the Sun Over the World, the Second Coming of Apolly. The Hero. But Saintess Hildebrand knew him well. He was a critic, a pessimist, a warrior who fought like he didn’t expect to return alive, a weak man who needed her shoulder to lean on more than anyone. That was why Saintess Hildebrand knew his limits.

Saintess Hildebrand had executed her plan perfectly. She had toiled for years to prepare the perfect revolution. She had taken control of what remained of the Holy Kingdom, and quelled the Apollyan Empire, and recruited the vengeful survivors of the eastern kingdoms. Her Paladins and armies paved a path of blood and bodies to the Kingdom of Hess, so she could march into Hugo’s homeland as a conqueror. Everyone who could have stopped her was dead by her hands, even people who considered her friend. Even legendary figures, who might have even surpassed the Hero in strength.

Saintess Hildebrand had led what was left of the world against Hugo. That was his limit. That was why she was confident of her victory.

That was why the sight of his gleaming red dragon eye struck fear deep into her heart. It was as dark as dry blood but glinted with a brilliant ruby red light. It shined like an ominous star that foretold Saintess Hildebrand’s defeat. Hugo was stronger than strong, strong beyond imagination, like the demons of old legends. He had never been so strong before. And the omen star in his eye foretold his victory.

She had no choice but to take a step back in fear, even though she held Altamea’s Fire in her trembling hands. She quietly cursed him for hiding his true strength all this time. That contempt gave her the strength to defy his strength.

“Hugo,” Saintess Hildebrand said. “Trust me!” She thrust the sword into the sky, imitating the visage of the first emperor, the Immortal Apolly. “I’ll bring everyone back! Old man Ren, Maxima, Sasha, everyone who died!”

“Don’t say their names,” he growled, taking a step forward. “You traitor.”

Saintess Hildebrand growled back, “So foolish.” She pointed Altamea’s Fire at Hugo.

True to its namesake, a white, divine blaze poured out from the blade. It was hot enough to purify reality with its divine presence. It was so blindingly bright that even Hildebrand had to shut her eyes in its holy presence. But the blinding light vanished, and Hildebrand opened her eyes to the sight of Hugo standing in front of her. He was more of a beast than a man. He was an entity wrapped up in a bloody red aura that raged like an uncontrollable flame bursting with anger.

Is he really the Hero? thought Saintess Hildebrand. In a moment of fear and doubt, Hildebrand found the last of her doubts disappearing. She felt despair and hope in equal parts.

Hugo gripped the blade of Altamea’s Fire, fixing the flaming blade and Saintess Hildebrand into place. And he raised his sword to strike her down.

Saintess Hildebrand grunted and gritted her teeth. She wouldn’t back down, she couldn’t. Everything would be meaningless.

“How long?” Hugo snarled. “How long have you been deceiving me? Since when!”

‘He’s just a man!’ Hildebrand reasoned. His anger was proof of that. His crackling voice, hiding pain, was proof of that.

Saintess Hildebrand grasped Hugo’s wrist, trying to stop him from cutting her down. But it was unmoving, like a mountain. It was completely unmoving. Like a statue.

No! I won’t let it end this way! Dammit! she shouted in her own brain. The Saintess didn’t dare show weakness.

Saintess Hildebrand closed her eyes. She was always prepared to die. Death always came when she least expected it, especially for those steeped in treachery, so she always welcomed it with open arms. But in that moment, it wasn’t death she feared. Saintess Hildebrand’s back throbbed with splintering pain, like hot stakes plunging into her flesh. It reminded her of a wish more precious than her own life.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Her life flashed by in the dark of her closed eyes. She wouldn’t let her dream end before it could even begin. Even if it was all she had, even if she was stripped of Altamea’s Fire, the Saintess’s powers, her authority and loyal followers, even if she was stripped bare and naked, she wouldn’t give it up.

“No,” growled Hildebrand. “I won’t let it end here.” Hildebrand pulled her head back and thrust her head forward like a mace. Her skull collided with Hugo’s with the crack of thunder and sent Hugo stumbling back.

Hildebrand could feel the warm trickle of blood from her forehead and the searing pain in her back. It felt like death was coming for her. But when she opened her eyes, she found herself wreathed in six holy wings. She laughed and laughed and laughed. She cackled.

Hildebrand whisked up into the air above Hugo, who was still scrambling to his feet.

“Kneel,” she commanded.

She held her free hand up and sent out a wave of light that pressed Hugo into the ground.

“Bow down!” she demanded.

But like a fool, Hugo stood. Just like he always did. Even in the face of certain death, he stood, like he too was inviting it. The sight of the foolish Hero made Hildebrand falter.

“You’re just a man!” she said.

It was a fearsome sight; one that she had both seen and imagined too many times. But he was just a man.

“Just stop,” Hildebrand whispered.

“You know I won’t,” he said.

Hildebrand gritted her teeth and swallowed her feelings. She gulped again, ensuring they wouldn’t come back up, and wore a wide smile to seal them up.

“You already lost!” she shouted.

Hugo launched into the air like a ballista, but Hildebrand held her hands up and unleashed a wave of light. It sent Hugo crashing into the wall off in the distance. The vault, made from a dragon’s lair, was so spacious she couldn’t see Hugo anymore. But Hildebrand suddenly found herself floating above Hugo with just a thought. Her powers surprised even herself, so it was even more surprising that Hugo was rising out of the crater he sat in.

Hildebrand pointed down and let a rain of white flames flood the crater Hugo was sitting in. It was like a shower of shooting stars raining down on the wicked, just like in the legend of the first Saintess, who was said to have ascended to the heavens when her work was done.

When the fire and smoke cleared, Hugo stood ever defiant, and his dragon eye burned brightly like it had before. But he was battered, burned, and bruised. The shooting stars had even broken his indestructible black armor, forged from dragon scale. Hildebrand had finally overcome his uncanny ability to ward away even divine powers. The dragon eye Hildebrand hated so much looked a more like a lizard eye now. Everyone whispered of its mighty powers, but now it looked ridiculous.

That’s why you shouldn’t have accepted that power, thought Hildebrand.

“Open your eyes, Hugo!” Hildebrand said. “Can’t you see I’m right?”

He simply returned a glare at her.

She smirked at him. “Did you really believe those old fools?” She placed a hand on her hip and sighed in frustration. The thought of those cowardly old kings sitting high in their towers, safe and cozy, made her tremble with rage. “Do you actually think they have good intentions? They just didn’t want anyone to challenge them! Man is too flawed? Too imperfect? Even Emperor Apolly? Who are they to dictate that? They just wanted an excuse to silence anyone that could challenge their authority!”

Hildebrand waved her hands and conjured up moving images of war and carnage. They were not images of humanity’s struggle against the horrors and evils of the World’s End, but of slaughters and atrocities committed by humans.

“I betrayed everyone?” she asked. “Those old crones were the ones who told us to retrieve Altamea’s Fire, to save the world! Then when we delivered it to them, they abandoned everyone who fought for them! They betrayed us first!”

Hildebrand conjured an image of the remnants of the Holy Kingdom. All that was left of it was its name and the few survivors who rallied under Hildebrand.

“They abandoned us,” she said.

Hugo stayed silent, but his fierce gaze didn’t let up.

Why? thought Hildebrand. Why are you looking at me like that? There was an unknown emotion hiding beneath Hugo’s anger, and even beneath his sadness. Hildebrand couldn’t tell what it was. Just the thought of what it could be made her falter.

Hildebrand hardened her heart, wrapping it in all the fine and fiery rhetoric she had practiced as the Saintess. “They used the eastern kingdoms as human shields against the beasts of the World’s End and turned a blind eye to all their suffering! Sealing away Altamea’s Fire was just an excuse to crush their rivals and seize their land! A broken world only benefits them! That’s why they sealed away this power!”

Hildebrand raised Altamea’s Fire up into the sky once more, letting its light shine down on Hugo.

“With this,” she said, “we can create a new world! A better world! Just take my hand Hugo!” She reached down to him, offering him a hand with fingers ever so slightly curled.

“What they did was wrong,” Hugo said. “But they were still right about one thing. Altamea’s Fire is too dangerous for anyone to use. You saw what was in the World’s End. It doesn’t discriminate against good or evil, it will answer your prayers in equal measure. You don’t despair? You don’t have any evil in you? I know you, Hilde.”

Veins popped on Hildebrand’s forehead. He always annoyed her. The way that he pierced the veil of the Saintess.

“Don’t call me Hilde! You don’t know me! You don’t know me at all! Do you think I’m like those crusty old men?” she screamed. “Those narcissists think they are gods! They’re so full of themselves they didn’t even give you the time of day after the war! They just paraded you around like a trophy for the publicity, to show people they had the Hero under their thumb! They just want to hold everything in the palms of their hands, until the end of time!”

Hildebrand clenched her fists. Hugo’s eerie silence only enraged her more.

She yelled, “You said it yourself! They’re ‘old fools’! They always got in the way of your plans, even though you proved them wrong countless times! They hated you because you threatened their authority! Because you were changing the world! I was the one who trusted you! I was the one who was on your side, when no one believed you! But we-“

Hildebrand looked down at Hugo from on high. “We saw eye to eye.” She wrapped herself in her wings, guarding herself from Hugo’s gaze. “I thought we did.”

“This isn’t about them,” Hugo said. “The problem is Altamea’s Fire. It’s too powerful for anyone to wield. Do you think you’re flawless?”

Hildebrand flinched. He was always like that. He always knew how to annoy her.

“There’s no problem, Hugo, there never was,” declared Hildebrand. “Altamea’s Fire just needs the right wielder. You just don’t understand it. Someone like you could never understand…” Hildebrand said.

Hugo’s gaze melted into one of sympathy and inexplicable sorrow. Although he said nothing, she could read his face like a book of few words. “I understand you.”

She shook her head with a scoff and declared, “You don’t understand what Altamea’s Fire needs. It needs a visionary who sees the road to Eden. It needs the righteous emissary of Altamea, a miracle in the flesh, a divine being.” Hildebrand gritted her teeth, and then smiled, she smiled her awe-inspiring Saintess Smile. “It needs a Saintess!” Hildebrand was so giddy she couldn’t stop herself. There were butterflies in her stomach, so many she could feel her stomach churning, like she was going to vomit. She was so excited she was tearing up.

“It needs someone who understands what it’s like to starve, to feel hunger so intense you’d rather eat mud! Someone who understands the despair of losing your fingers and toes and your only friend to the rot! Someone who understands what it’s like to huddle with the biting rats just to live through one more cold night!” She spread her wings even further and floated further up. “It needs someone who knows what evil is,” she professed. “So I can vanquish it.”

The ceiling and the castle above scattered like dust in the wind, freeing Hildebrand into the dark sky above. Her tears flowed freely as she smiled at the black night she so feared. It was cold as it always was.

Hildebrand floated up into the skies on her shining wings. They were proof of who she truly was. “It needs an angel!” she exclaimed. “It needs a star!” Hildebrand raised Altamea’s Fire up into the air and cut through the darkness, to unveil a blazing, bright sky. “A morning star who dispels the hopeless night.”

“Hilde…” Hugo said.

“That’s right, Hugo! It needs me!” declared Hildebrand. Her voice full of a nervous energy.

Hugo replied, “No. It doesn’t. It doesn’t need anyone.” He pointed at her. She always hated that, even though she did it too. “You. You think you need it.” Hugo turned his pointing hand over and offered his open palm. “But you don’t. You don’t need it, Hilde. We can still stop.”

Hildebrand clicked her tongue. She understood it now, that strange look, the unknown emotion, hidden beneath Hugo’s anger and sadness and sympathy. It was forgiveness.

“You’re pathetic,” she spat.

She had been crying tears of joy, but now she was crying tears of frustration.

“You’re so hardheaded, like a damned rock…” she growled. “But that’s okay.”

He always annoyed her. Everything about him. The way he seemed dimwitted yet was clever beyond comprehension. The way he made bold predictions, like he knew the future, and stubbornly refused to budge or listen to reason. The way that he was right almost every time. The way he talked down to her and teased her, even now. The way his red dragon eye made her blood curdled at the mere sight of it. Even the way he let his hair grow out until it covered his eyes annoyed her. It was long again, and in his eyes again. The first time they ever met, it annoyed her so much she had to cut it while he rested. There was no convincing him through mere words. She just had to show him. It was something he had told her in the first place.

“It’s better to apologize than ask permission,” Hildebrand said, echoing Hugo’s words.

“I’ll show you my perfect world,” Hildebrand said, lifting the sword up once more. It pierced the veil of reality, and everything vanished to black. “I won’t have to apologize for this.”