Entry #22

The scream tore through the night.

“Louis!”

Ama-Lurra jolted upright, her body drenched in sweat, her breath ragged. Her heart pounded against her ribs like war drums.

She was not alone.

Standing at the entrance to her tent were Louis’ companions—Joaquin, Gabriel, and Mira—all of them wide-eyed, anxious.

Ama-Lurra blinked. “The champion’s companions? Why are you here?”

Joaquin stepped forward. “Louis is missing, Lady Ama-Lurra.”

Her breath caught. “What?! Where could he be?”

“We don’t know,” Mira said softly, hugging her grimoire to her chest.

Gabriel crossed his arms. “Last thing I remember, I fell asleep next to Aide. When I woke up, I felt... brand new. Like I hadn’t moved an inch.”

“Same,” said Joaquin.

“Same here,” Mira added quietly.

Ama-Lurra’s hands curled into fists. “We can’t begin the Xeolstor purge without Louis. But why come to me?”

Gabriel gave a cocky little smile. “You were the last person to see him.”

She narrowed her eyes. “And how would you know that?”

“Let’s just say I... called in a favor,” Gabriel said with a shrug.

“Don’t spy on people again. Understood?”

He raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. Chill, Lady Stormcloud.”

Elsewhere, in the air-drenched halls of the gods…

Olentzo landed on the stone terrace near Lamia and Aide.

“So the champion’s gone missing?” he asked, stepping from the shadows.

Lamia nodded. “Lady Aide said she last saw him with Ama-Lurra.”

Aide’s gaze was cold, focused. “We need to find him before something finds him first.”

Suddenly, Aide’s eyes flared with arcane light as a vision seized her—Louis, sprinting through a dark cavern, breathless, hunted.

She blinked back to the present. “He’s in the Crystal Cove.”

“Why would he go there?” Lamia asked, alarmed.

Olentzo crossed his arms. “It’s between my post and Vishap’s… remote, dangerous. It’s not a place to wander. Unless—” he paused.

Ama-Lurra approached from the shadows, overhearing. “Unless someone is chasing him?”

Olentzo nodded grimly. “Yes. And I think we both know who.”

She clenched her jaw. “Then I’m going to Father.”

Ama-Lurra knelt before Talos in his chamber of stars.

The old god poured steaming tea into porcelain cups.

“You seem troubled, daughter.”

Ama-Lurra looked into her reflection in the tea. “Father… are there beings beyond us? Beyond you? Beyond Mother?”

Talos lifted his brow. “Why do you ask?”

“Because Olentzo and the others saw Louis running… like something was chasing him. Something unnatural.”

Talos sighed, setting the teacup down. “There are forces beyond gods. Mechanisms of existence. Concepts with faces. Names.”

Ama-Lurra stared. “Names?”

Talos spoke slowly. “The one chasing Louis is Erio—the anthropomorphic embodiment of Death and Rebirth.”

She inhaled sharply. “Death…”

“And he is not alone,” Talos continued. “There is Akashic, the Recorder of Fate and Destiny. And Mauma, Reality and Non-Reality incarnate.”

Ama-Lurra’s voice was quiet but firm. “Can I reason with him?”

Talos shook his head. “No one escapes death. Not even gods. He will come for us all.”

“Then he’ll have to go through me,” she said, rising.

Louis ran, boots striking the glassy floor of the Crystal Cove, where reality shimmered in fragments.

He stumbled to a stop as mirrored images surrounded him—reflections of himself.

“Hello?” he called out.

A child stepped forward—young Louis—eyes wide and innocent. “Hello, mister. Are you lost?”

Louis offered a strained smile. “Not really.”

A teen version of himself laughed. “It’s written all over your face. You’re lost, and you don’t know what the hell you’re doing.”

Another figure emerged—an adult version, proud and weathered. “Let him speak.”

Louis turned in a slow circle, looking at his fractured selves. “I didn’t come here for some internal therapy session, alright? I’m being hunted!”

Teen Louis scoffed. “All this whining. You think you're the only one with power? The only one cursed?”

“I never asked for this,” Louis snapped. “I just wanted to go back to my life.”

Young Louis tugged his sleeve. “But I think your new life here is nice.”

Louis shut his eyes. “Everything’s a mess. It’s not fair.”

The adult reflection chuckled darkly. “Fair? Look at you. Trying to run away from your responsibilities. Again.”

Suddenly, a voice shattered the glassy calm.

“No… you’re not leaving.”

The floor cracked.

The mirrors exploded.

“Run, Louis!” Adult Louis shouted before he vanished in shards of light.

From the fractured shadows, Erio emerged. Tall, pale, with obsidian eyes that drank the light.

“Pardon the intrusion,” Erio said, dragging the blade of his scythe across the glass. “But I just couldn’t miss this charming little identity crisis.”

Louis backed away, breath trembling.

Erio grinned. “I was there when you burned with Claudio’s betrayal… when that Xeolstor gutted you… when Tenebrae punched a hole clean through your chest.”

He crouched low, eyes gleaming. “And still, you didn’t die. Curious.”

Louis's hands trembled. “You’re not an assassin.”

“No,” Erio said. “I’m Death. No metaphors. No riddles. Just the real deal.”

Louis stumbled back, heart thundering.

Erio laughed softly. “You’ve lived too long, Louis Delacroix. And I’ve come to fix that.”

“I’m still alive,” Louis whispered.

“You were meant to be dead three times over,” Erio said. “But you keep squirming out. I take that… personally.”

He stepped forward, boots cracking the glass.

“I’m not good or evil, Louis. I’m inevitable. I am balance. But this?” He gestured to the young Louis in the distance, who whimpered, fading. “This is just... offensive.”

Louis’s mouth went dry as the child version of himself reached out.

“Help… Mister…”

Erio crushed the final mirror.

Louis ran.

“Run, Louis! Run!” Erio called after him with glee. “And make sure I don’t catch up.”

Entry# 22 End