Indenuel and Simon turned around to see a mob carrying torches.

“Witch!” people screamed.

Indenuel winced and took a few steps back. Simon folded his arms, watching the vision. Indenuel tried to see through the crowd. Even though there were torches all around, he had a hard time seeing who it was tied to the stake.

“Mela,” Simon whispered.

Indenuel’s heart dropped. It was. The same girl in the other prophecy before, this time much older. People were adding sticks, and Mela looked ahead, tears running down her cheeks.

A man stood forward, one Indenuel almost couldn’t recognize.

“Jaakob, please,” Mela whispered. “Please let me go. You know I’m not marked.” She said that, but she had no heart in it, almost as though she knew Jaakob wouldn’t.

“You are a witch,” Jaakob said. “A woman such as yourself could never see that far into the future without the mark of the devil.”

“And I don’t have it. You checked yourself.” Indenuel couldn’t help but glance at Mela’s torso. Her simple dress was modest, but in the distress of the situation it wasn’t hanging right on her body, and Indenuel could see the clear skin of her shoulder.

“Your gender is responsible for the death of God!” Jaakob shouted. “You do not get the honor of being as powerful as me! It will be my work that saves the world! Mine that helps the third age progress!”

Mela’s face fell. A look of horror filled her face as her eyes began to glow. “No, Jaakob! Don’t do it!” The emotion was back in her voice. “Please! You don’t see! You don’t realize what this will do!”

“It’s already happened,” Jaakob said, moving forward. “Your gift just never lets you see when corruption is involved. I saw all of it.”

“Please, Jaakob, no!”

“You have no right to tell me what to do, witch!” Jaakob shouted louder for the crowd.

“You yourself are a warlock, are you not!” Mela cried. “Marked by the devil himself!”

“Nothing you say can be believed!” Jaakob cried out to the mob. They roared in agreement. Simon shuddered and looked away.

“No! Please Jaakob! You don’t realize what you’re doing! Destroy your work!” Mela screamed.

“No, Mela.” Jaakob’s eyes flickered black. “I know exactly what I’m doing.”

Mela’s eyes kept flickering a bright yellow color. “I’m sorry,” she said, turning toward Simon and Indenuel. His heart dropped as he stared at this woman who had seen portions of his life. “I’m sorry, Warrior. I’m sorry for the grief and pain this will undoubtedly cause you.”

Indenuel couldn’t help it and shivered. His entire life played before his mind’s eye, and he knew exactly what she was talking about.

“She sees the devil!” Jaakob said. The crowd screamed.

“Kill her!”

“Kill the witch!”

Jaakob threw his torch into the sticks and the fire took hold.

“The Divine Ages don’t bring peace! They’ll bring about the fall of those civilizations!” Mela screamed, her eyes still golden. Simon gasped, his eyes widening. “It starts with Santollia!” Mela sobbed, again looking at Indenuel and Simon. “Your father’s predictions are off, Prophet,” Mela shouted. “They are sooner to building it than either one of you could have realized. Get your people out of Dengria before its collapse. Get them out before it freezes. It doesn’t get better, it gets worse. So much worse. Jaakob’s prophecies… they bring about… the end…”

“What does she mean by that?” Indenuel asked. Simon did nothing, simply stared ahead with a look of pure terror on his face as Mela began to scream in pain. Indenuel watched in disgust as the flames began to eat her before he had to turn away. “Stop, Garen! We’ve seen enough!”

Mela’s head slumped forward, and the world turned dark again. He didn’t realize how hard he was breathing until the cheers and screams from the crowd were silenced.

“Simon,” Indenuel said, hardly a whisper. “What did she mean? Will Santollia fall? Does Dengria fall with you?” Simon looked down, the terror beginning to lessen. He looked as though he was mulling something over, his eyes darting around. “Does Santollia exist in your time period?” Indenuel asked again.

Simon’s eyes fell on an empty portion of the darkened void. “I request my fifteen minutes alone, Garen.”

Indenuel didn’t see anyone there, but Simon waited for another few moments before he dropped his gaze again.

“It was a theory my father first brought to my attention when I was a boy,” Simon told him. “One I took with me as I’ve watched all the other ages. Soon after each of the Divine Ages is fulfilled, there is a radical spiral in their civilization they never recover from. Some have it worse than others.”

Indenuel shook his head. “And it starts with me?” Simon finally looked at Indenuel, saying nothing. Indenuel raised a finger, pointing. “I sell my soul to the devil, don’t I?” The Prophet dropped his gaze as Indenuel’s heart quickened. “The devil was right. I sell my soul to get strong enough to kill the High Elders. And it makes Santollia fall.”

Simon let out a tiny breath. “My father… other historians… they postulated… in another five years or so Santollia would have fallen anyway.”

Indenuel glared, shaking his head. “That I agree with.”

“And you never thought maybe you could just wait? Wait and see? Help where you could?” Simon asked.

“Are you trying to change my mind?” Indenuel asked, feeling his chest turn cold as he realized he was right. The devil was here to collect his soul.

Simon shook his head. “I’m trying to understand why you did it.”

“I hate them. Every single one. They spread rumors and filled the people with so much fear that Inessa was murdered in Martin’s home. They are keeping valuable information from the people so they can filter through what is being taught. They tell us how to take in the information. They tell people to be afraid, and they are. They lied about the Divine Ages! Cristoval raped my mother! They all slept with thousands of women, and they feel no remorse! I can’t wait another five years for them to realize their wrongs! They need to suffer. Now.”

Simon winced. “But murder, Indenuel?”

“I’ve done it before. This isn’t any different,” Indenuel said.

“But your continent. Your friends. Everyone you care about? Are you truly willing to doom them to a fallen country? Matteo? The twins? You want them to have that kind of life?” Simon asked.

“The country is doomed anyway,” Indenuel said. “And it’s better they live in a life not run by Godless leaders.”

“And Inessa? Lucia?” Simon asked. “You truly are willing to sell your soul to the devil and never see them again?”

“I was bound for hell anyway,” Indenuel said.

Realization dawned on his face. “Oh,” he whispered. “I get it. The war. Killing all those Kiamese soldiers. You believe you’re going to hell, so you threw everything in to…” Simon didn’t finish. He still looked at Indenuel, the sadness there, but some understanding as well. “It was like Matteo told me. It was an insane amount of responsibility on your shoulders at too young an age. With the lies, the politics, not many could have lasted as long as you did. I’m sorry. Everything was stacked against you. I truly understand now you were only doing what you thought was right.”

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“Don’t,” Indenuel said, his voice dark. “Don’t pretend like you know who I am. Don’t tell me my decisions were pointless. I don’t care what your history books have to say about me. All I care about is killing those five men.”

“High Elder Martin-”

“Don’t say another word about Martin. You don’t know him. You will never know him. He is not someone to admire. He’s a coward who needs to be stopped. He deserves to suffer in hell for eternity because of what he did.” Simon said nothing, his face falling ever so slightly. Indenuel narrowed his eyes. “That’s why you’ve never met him. Because he’s in Hell, isn’t he.” Again, he said nothing, but the truth was in his eyes. Indenuel glowered. “And you admire him? When you know he’s in Hell?”

Simon paused, hesitant with what he was about to say. “He did his best with what information he was given.”

“No, he didn’t. He lied to me about my father. He used me like the other High Elders did. His actions are unforgivable,” Indenuel said.

“I cannot imagine what you’ve gone through. I know this must be an incredibly hard thing to come to terms with, but please…” Simon trailed off, trying multiple times to continue, but he couldn’t.

Indenuel waited. “Are you trying to warn me not to do it?”

Simon rubbed his forehead. “I honestly believe you would have made a different choice if you knew the Gods are still alive.”

Indenuel stared at Simon, his eyes widening. Of everything he heard this night, it was somehow that phrase that made his head start to spin. Simon noticed Indenuel’s reaction, the smallest trickle of hope in his eyes. “You heard me? The translators let it through?” He began to smile. “You heard me say the Gods are still alive, right?” Indenuel still did nothing but stare at Simon. His smile widened before it froze, then it slowly began to fall. “And… and it still isn’t going to change your mind?”

“They are… alive?” Indenuel asked.

“Yes.”

“You’ve…” Indenuel cleared his throat, trying to get his head to stop spinning. “You’ve seen Them?”

There were tears in Simon’s eyes. “I have, yes. They are glorious.”

Indenuel felt the anger, as white hot as it was, and he closed his eyes to get it under control. “Then why didn’t They show themselves to me?”

“I… I don’t know,” Simon said.

“Why the hell did They hide? Why would…” he began breathing deeply, the anger building. “The stars? The sacrifice? All of it lies?”

“No, They still stretched Their power over our world and saved us from destruction, but They didn’t die. You can’t kill a God.”

Indenuel shook his head, rubbing his forehead with his hands. “So, you’re telling me They are powerful enough to not die, but clearly not powerful enough to show up! To help me out! To help Mela out?”

Simon held up a hand. “It was Garen. He convinced the world They were dead.”

“And that’s somehow supposed to comfort me! Despite Their absolute power, of being unkillable, They let Garen lie them out of existence? What kind of Gods do that!” He was getting dangerously angry.

“They were there every step of the way. Whenever you heard promptings that told you to do right, that was Them. Small miracles that shouldn’t have happened, but did. Acts of the Gods, the quiet, subtle way they make things happen that was enough to make huge breakthroughs. It was Them. It was always Them.”

“Oh, so helpful,” Indenuel said, the sarcasm thick in his voice.

Simon took another step toward Indenuel, talking fast. “They cannot force you to do anything you don’t want to. They are bound by the same laws as Garen. Garen was patient and sowed seeds of doubt until the entire world believed God was dead. You cannot turn to someone for help if you think They’re dead, and so Their powers have been greatly reduced. Garen knows how to play the game. The Gods cannot help if you don’t ask. But if you ask, I swear They will help.”

Indenuel shook his head, tears of anger running down his cheeks. “If the Gods are so incredibly powerful, why don’t they simply kill Garen!”

“The Gods have Their purposes,” Simon said. “Not even I understand Them. It’s the blessing and curse I carry. To try and understand the divine, knowing full well I am simply a mortal.”

“There is no believable reason for any divine being to keep an evil being alive! They could have killed Garen from the beginning, but They didn’t! They don’t care! They simply use me how They’d like then throw me away! Just like everyone else!”

“Indenuel, please.”

Indenuel backed away, shaking his head. “No. I’ve heard enough. The Gods are alive, and They’re just watching us all kill each other off. They’re watching all our civilizations fall. They are not doing one damn thing to stop any of this. Why would I ever go to Them? You’re wrong, Simon. It’s knowing They’re alive and don’t care that has helped me make my decision! I have to clean up Their mess They refuse to deal with. Just like I’ve had to do with everyone else’s problems!”

“If you knew the truth.” There were tears in Simon’s eyes. “If you knew how much They love you.”

Indenuel’s hands were trembling in rage. “This isn’t love! Don’t pretend any of this is because They love me! This is abuse! At least before I knew why God didn’t step in when my life was hell.”

Simon wiped his eyes. He was saying something, but no words came out.

“Whatever it is, the Gods aren’t letting me hear it,” Indenuel sneered. “They don’t want me to know whatever excuse you have to explain why They decided to ignore me while everyone I loved died.” Simon let out a breath and looked away. “I’ve heard enough.” Indenuel walked around the void. “Garen!”

He materialized, a smile crossing his face. “How may I serve you?”

“Indenuel, wait-” Simon started to say.

Garen threw his hand in Simon’s direction, and he again was invisibly bound before he was forced to his knees. Something was also keeping his mouth shut.

Indenuel stared at Garen. Now that the devil himself was before him, he was getting nervous. “The Gods are alive?”

“Yes. They are,” Garen said, his eyes hardening.

“You lied. To all of us.”

“No. I created a lie to see if the Gods would be willing to prove me wrong. There are four beings up there who claim the title of God, and not one of them cared enough about you to prove They were still alive. Proof enough for my followers to know we were right to denounce Them for the neglectful beings They are. They are simply watching this world burn, until their precious savior comes to destroy it the rest of the way.”

Simon began to struggle in his invisible bonds. He was trying to say something, but he couldn’t get his mouth open.

“Is it true what Simon told me? That Santollia will fall in another five years if I don’t do anything?”

Garen smirked. “Oh, I would have made it fall in one.”

Simon grunted, glaring at Garen.

“Then why use me?” Indenuel asked.

The smile Garen gave was terrifying. “I don’t use you. Like I said before, I am merely a humble servant.”

Indenuel turned away from Garen’s smile, staring at his hands. “I… promised. I promised Tolomon and Nathaniel I wouldn’t sell my soul.”

Simon looked up, genuinely surprised as well as horrified.

“The question you must ask yourself is simple.” Garen’s black eyes stared directly into Indenuel’s soul. “Do you want the High Elders to continue to live on this world for another year?”

Indenuel curled his hands into fists. Another year with those men in charge. How much more damage could they do? Indenuel stared right back at Garen. “No.”

Simon thrashed against his bonds.

“Remove your shirt.” Indenuel did so, the red lines still visible. Garen smiled as he pulled out a black dagger and stuck it in Indenuel’s left hand. “Kneel.”

Indenuel did. Demons began materializing, surrounding him. Simon appeared next to Indenuel. Somehow, he broke out of his bonds and pulled on Indenuel’s arm to make him stand up. “You don’t know what you’re doing! You don’t know what Hell will be like! You cannot trust Garen!”

Indenuel continued to stare at Garen. “I’ve already made my decision. It’s just as you say. You cannot change the past.”

“You don’t get it!” Simon glared at Garen. “He will use you for more than killing the High Elders! The hate will drive you to destroy. A destruction that will be felt not just by Santollia, but in every civilization across this planet! Billions will curse your name for this! Get up, Indenuel! Get up!” Simon said something more, but Indenuel couldn’t hear. He just knew he could not let the High Elders live.

Garen smirked at Simon. “I have no further use for you.”

Simon blinked from existence. Indenuel stared at Garen, ready to face his fate.

“Do you swear to serve me as your master?” Garen asked.

“I swear it,” Indenuel said.

Demons flitted in and out of Indenuel’s arm, forcing it up and slicing across his stomach. It was freezing.

“Do you promise to obey my every word?” Garen asked.

“Yes.”

The demons cut three short marks, one down his sternum, one down his shoulder, and one down his side, not touching the other marks at all.

Garen grinned. “When your mortal life is over, do you promise to reside in hell for the rest of eternity?”

Indenuel stared right into Garen’s black eyes. He was bound for hell anyway. “I promise.”

The demons made the final cut, starting at his shoulder before going through his heart, almost touching the mark at his stomach. Garen laughed. Indenuel might have felt a chill, but his torso was solid ice already.

“Rise, Indenuel. Clothe yourself,” Garen said. Indenuel did. Garen took the knife back as Indenuel put his shirt back on. Garen stood, his hands behind his back. “There is a man who is my servant working in Santollia. He has already broken into the dungeon to deliver the gift I have inspired him to make. It is a weapon that I have discovered since before time on this planet was recorded. It will help you defeat the High Elders easily. You must kill my servant for the power to transfer to you. He is already aware of this and is happy to sacrifice his life for the greater good.”

“Do the High Elders know about this weapon?” Indenuel asked.

“Yes. They know exactly what it is. And it’s something else they’ve kept secret from the world. They call it a Warlock Staff, or Staff of the Devil. Five of such weapons caused the Great Flood. A man with your powers, the High Elders will fall.”

If the Gods weren’t going to stop the High Elders from spreading fear and hate, he would.

“It will be done,” Indenuel said.

“I know.” A broad smile grew across Garen’s face. “And you will be spectacular.”