Advent of War: Part 2

“I have one question for you, Mikaun,” Licht said, guarded. “Why did you choose to help Aria and Brendan back at the Chronid Hospital? Surely you knew that you were aiding us in the defeat of the Reverse Royalty?”

“I may be a devil, and I may be manipulative by nature, but it’s like I said. I don’t want Ahzef’s new world order. I’m not interested in that. When I told them I was the doctor, I was telling the truth, contrary to popular belief. Likewise, your friend, Mana, would never have been able to ascend to this realm without my help.” Mikaun shook his hand in pain.

He’d figured the devils were tough, but he certainly hadn’t expected to challenge one in a thumb war, of all things. As dumbfounded as he was, this was his chance to put his reconnaissance skills to work. He wanted to know more about this brother-sister devil duo and what kind of threats his sister posed.

“We know you and your sister can become one, thanks to the info Mana gave us. What’s to say this isn’t a trap and you’re trying to play us?”

“Licht,” Hika interjected. “That one is telling the truth. Listen to what he has to say. I… do not know why, but I can sense he’s good.”

Licht lowered his guard some, giving his muscles a chance to rest in the event Mikaun did pose a threat. He was never too cautious, and the devils, Mikaun especially, hadn’t given him a reason to trust them. He’d wanted their heads, as some kind of trophy prize for Azhef, but after the astounding defeat in the thumb war, he’d just… plopped down on the ground.

“There are five, technically six, seats to the Reverse Royalty,” Mikaun explained. “That’s because my sister and I can become one. I can at least assuage your fears there. We cannot, however, merge when we are in separate planes of existence like we are now—myself in Halysian and my sister still traversing Chiipha.”

“You devils really get under my skin with your mind games, and it pisses me off. Why are you trying to get closer to Ahzef? What is it you’re trying to do?” Licht demanded.

“It would behoove you to listen to the girl when she says you can trust—” Licht pointed a strange, pixelated sword at the devil. “Ok, ok!” Mikaun staggered to his feet. “I have something I also want to protect. Here.” He handed Licht and Hika a set of photos. “I didn’t ask to be part of Ahzef’s little posy, but I did have to trick your friends back in Chronid or you’d still be harboring secrets from each other—those will only set you back further in your fight against the remaining members of the Reverse Royalty.”

“Secrets?” Licht repeated. “Trick? Just what part of your meeting in that hospital was a ‘trick’, according to you?”

Mikaun looked to Ethera. She stood off to the side, still perplexed by the oddity of the thumb war. “Would you like to tell them, Ethera?”

“I can, but I think you still have more explaining to do.” She turned her head towards the photos in Licht and Hika’s hands. “Explain what you’re talking about to them.”

The devil sighed. “Very well, then. Those photos you’re holding… They are of my wife and kids. Well, they were, anyways. We had a happy life together. The kids had playdates. We went camping— We even had a couple goldfish they named ‘Fishy’ and ‘Fishstick’.”

Licht and Hika mulled over the photos—black and white print. The condition of the film felt as if they’d been taken less than a day ago; they were sleek and free of wear. A young man stood in the center of the one in Licht’s hand: his dark hair was slicked back, and he wore a loose, plain white tee. A pair of baggy, khaki pants found their way to the ground, but he didn’t seem to care. His expression was that of a guy who had long since freed himself from the shackles of the world: the push to find a successful career, find a girl and start a family, own a home— He looked like someone who had defied the odds at a young age. Despite the black and white photo, Licht could tell he stood in the lobby of a movie theatre. Several of the posters seemed to overhype the creation of autonomous robots while others were obsessed with otherworldly creatures and monsters in some alternate world.

“That photo was taken the night I turned twenty. It was a Friday night, and I had just met the most amazing girl I’d ever laid eyes on. I asked her out to a movie earlier in the week.” Mikaun’s smile was radiant. There was no doubt his reminiscence was a light in his life. “She was incredible— Beautiful, kind, and had a heart of nothing but love for others and the world around her.”

Licht shuffled through a few more photos. Some showcased random couples who he presumed had been asked to pose for the camera. Others were of a large dog, sitting perfectly in the dirt with a toy in its mouth, clearly ready to play. Another photo showed Mikaun standing next to what looked like a radio DJ, presumably someone he was a fan of, though it was just a cardboard cutout.

“Mikaun. This photo…” Hika held it up so he could see, the back facing Licht. “Did Ahzef—”

The light quickly faded from the devil’s eyes as he began to sob uncontrollably. Licht moved to console him, driven by his own sense of perpetual loneliness—he knew how it felt to lose it all, but Ethera held up a hand. Mikaun buried his face in his hands, tears seeping through the cracks in his fingers. It was incredible, a devil that felt such strong emotions—he was really crying. On the backside of the photo was a small message scribbled in what he assumed was smudged red ink, but the chill it gave him said otherwise:

“I gave you a chance, and now you have no choice.”

Hika flipped the photo over to the frontside, taking a closer look, and became physically ill. Licht snatched it out of the air before it could hit the ground. As he examined the composition, anger swelled in his chest, startling even Ethera who must have been able to feel the sheer rage building within him. Mikaun wasn’t lying about the photos. They were genuine photographs, but the one in Licht’s hand was a grisly sight, one that affirmed whose side the devil was really on:

Pinned to a tree, a few feet from the mangled mess of what had been a car, was a woman. Dark splotches were scattered all about her clothes and down the face of the trunk—likely blood. One arm was twisted behind her back, hidden from sight; the other arm was so mangled Licht couldn’t tell if there even was an arm there, almost as if it had been torn off. Her legs were full of deep gashes from the broken glass of the windshield and the stakes that pinned her body to the tree. Several more had been driven into her shoulders.

The most horrifying part was her head, the part that probably made Hika so ill: it had been placed on a branch farther up the tree. Her eyes were glazed over, gazing into the fields that lined the other side of the road, lifeless and cold as they stared straight ahead. A sickening grin had been carved into her face, starting from the corners of the mouth and ending just below the ear; it was sickening and abhorrent.

“This woman… she was your wife, wasn’t she? I don’t have to guess who did this, nor will I ask.” Licht turned the photo over in his hand, examining every inch. “I’m sorry, Mikaun. She didn’t deserve such a cruel fate… No one does.”

Hika, wiping her mouth, spoke up. “This is almost what happened to Aria, but she caved. Had she chosen not to go with Ahzef, I fear she would have found herself in a very similar situation.” Just the thought made her ill again as she returned her attention to the splattered mess in the flowers beneath her.

Mikaun regained his composure, apologizing for his lack thereof. “You’re correct,” he sniffled, “that was my wife. Ahzef gave me a choice several months prior to her death. He told me he liked my carefree attitude and that he had something big planned, but he wouldn’t say what. That photo was taken several years after our first date that night at the movies, but I thought I’d turned it to ashes years ago.”

Ethera added a more thorough explanation. “Ahzef thought he could take advantage of that carefree nature and that Mikaun would do whatever he said without question… That’s where he was mistaken and when everything fell apart.” She walked over, placing a hand on the devil’s shoulder. “Had Mikaun not refused Ahzef, the Rezertia a few years later, the most recent, in fact, would have had a much greater chance of success. Losing only one of the princesses was a blessing, we just didn’t know it yet. That is, before the second was caught and thus killed.”

“I know Ahzef left that message, and I know he’s responsible even if he never admits it, but what a damn fool I was to believe that, if I joined up with him, he could bring Lainie back. I wasn't thinking straight and then the kids were taken from me, sent to live with their grandparents. After that, I lost the house Lainie and I bought together—our first home that we poured all our savings into. After the house was repossessed, I accepted Ahzef's proposal. I had nothing left, and nothing left to live for.”

“So, you became a devil?” Licht asked.

“No. Not quite. While it’s true that I no longer age and have abilities that are beyond the scope of a normal human, I am, technically, still human.” Mikaun bit down on his lip, drawing a trace amount of blood. “I can even bleed, but I don’t heal as fast as the actual devils do.”

Hika, weak and nauseated, rejoined the conversation once more. “The book he has on the Greyriter family history is real, and it’s not the only one that exists.” A bound book, like the one Mikaun presented at the Chronid hospital, appeared in her hands. “I was lucky to grab this before I was exiled and stripped of my magic. This book is the Ekair family history that Millee should have, but the impression I get from her so far is probably one I should keep to myself, hence why I have the record.”

Licht made another mental note, impressed by how quickly her speech patterns were evolving to mimic that of everyday conversation. Still, she was powerless, and he felt like he was partially to blame. It had taken the world on the brink of annihilation for him to finally get up and do something with himself. Like Hika, he too had to adapt and change, and that started with putting the alcohol down, getting himself back into shape, and learning how to control the natural flow of mana around him. While he no longer felt so useless, he still berated himself for failing to turn his life around sooner. There Hika was, exiled from the only home she’d ever known, stripped of her magic, told she was a failure, yet she’d somehow managed to pick herself up, despite the odds.

“You’re an inspiration, and I love that about you,” he mused.

“If you both wouldn’t mind,” Ethera broke in, “I can keep those record books much safer in my possession. The Ekair family is closely related to the Amana family, though that name has only been used within the last half-century or so. The Ekair is a branch family to the Iliern, Lacia’s true family name, but the use of it is kept very quiet for obvious reasons.” She smiled as Hika and Mikaun handed the books over. “The primary reason is for safety, of course. Lacia could be in much greater danger than she realizes if that name began to circulate.”

“Which is why it’s a problem I was stripped of my Aurei status— I’m next to useless and can’t even protect myself, much less Lacia.”

“I think I can help with that, Hika. Give me some time, and I may have something for you.” Ethera smiled. “For your last little bit of self-introduction, Mikaun, how about you tell us how you got in here and about your sister? That being said, I am already aware, but you should inform the,” she paused, making air quotes, “children.”

Mikaun stood up… and drove a hand straight through his chest. Licht looked on in horror, only relaxing once the devil, or whatever Mikaun was, he supposed, removed the hand from his chest. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw him pull something from inside his body, putting him a little on-edge.

“This thing,” Mikaun said, turning his bloodied fist around, “is like a glorified magic crystal. It stores various types of mana and allows the host to use whatever they please, so long as they don’t deplete the crystal.” He turned it around in his hand, the glass-like mineral refracting the ethereal sunlight. “For devils, and individuals such as myself, it allows us to form a straight connection back to the ‘host devil’. In this instance, that would be my sister.”

Despite the newly formed hole in his chest, Mikaun seemed quite satisfied, allowing Licht and Hika to watch as he threw the crystal to the ground, subsequently stomping it into nothing more than glittering dust. Bewildered, Licht stooped down to examine what remained of the crystal, rubbing the dust between his fingers.

Mikaun continued. “Because I could use magic like that of a devil, I was able to hide my presence. Similarly, I had accrued a small amount of Aurei mana which allowed me to contain my size after hitching a ride on the Lhumin girl.” Licht and Hika offered displeased stares. “Look. What they saw back at the hospital was real. Likewise, assuming you also found yourselves there at some point, that was also real. It wasn’t some augmented reality or figment of your imaginations. The trick was making the two you mentioned earlier think I could create such things when, in reality, they were only transported due to my sister’s magic.” The hole in his chest began to close as he continued. “When I arrived, I gave them a time limit. Preferably, I would have liked to have been out of that decrepit place before my sister arrived, but that is the reality of what happened. Though,” he put his hand to his chin, studying Licht and Hika, “perhaps it was for the better.”

Licht spoke first. “That’s fine and all but by destroying that crystal, you essentially cut the link to your sister, I’m assuming. Won’t she know what happened?”

“Are we just going to ignore the fact that he followed us here by hitching a ride on Mana? Like, that makes me feel kind of freaky,” Hika hissed.

“New note to self,” Licht thought, “her vocabulary still needs work.”

“To answer your question… My sister will likely believe that I was killed in some way, what the destruction of a magic crystal usually means. That, or I overexerted myself, causing it to shatter—the two things a destroyed magic crystal usually means,” he explained. “When two devils, or a devil and a human, are joined by one of these crystals, they are then deemed brother and sister because they share such a close bond.” Mikaun began to laugh. “As you can see, however, I have very little attachment to that abhorrent creature. I genuinely hope she thinks I got myself killed in some stupid way because that’s exactly what she’d believe.”

Hika spoke up next, shoving Licht to the side before he could speak. “I just realized you still had the official Greyriter family record, so only have one question for you. Why did you end up with it, and which of the devils killed the two princesses, from the Searing Wounds?”

Mikaun’s face turned serious. “I was tasked with the elimination of Earth’s princess during that event. Azhef relayed the plan to Kuria and I. She was to impersonate a small Lhumin child. From there, the idea was to paint the Lhumin family as selfish and arrogant. In doing so, Ahzef could manipulate the next chosen Grandeur as they would have failed in their duties to oversee the two princesses. As you well know by now, that plan didn’t work out as he had expected, seeing as the now former Grandeur stands amongst us. It was Kuria and Ahzef that did the killings, however.”

Licht’s face drained of color as Hika pressed on. “So, you’re saying Ahzef correctly predicted who would become Grandeur? Based on what factors? What reason did he have to pit the two families against each other?”

“Those are tough questions to answer exactly, but if you think about the mysterious death of Ethera’s husband and how that accident forced her to return here, does it not stand to reason there’s something about the Grandeur he wants?” Mikaun pondered, directing his attention toward Hika. “Ahzef did not predict your friend’s ascension to Grandeur, though. He did, however, predict the weakening of the throne which is why he launched the current Rezertia you now face. It was his only opening, and he knew that, if he moved quickly enough, he could secure those powers for himself.”

“But that didn’t go to plan, either, did it?” Licht questioned as Mikaun nodded.

“I’m sure I already know,” Ethera said, adding her thoughts. “Beyond the realm of the Grandeur is a place many call heaven, though its true identity remains a closely guarded secret. If Ahzef were to ever break the spiritual barrier that separates these two realms, the consequences could be disastrous—he plans to challenge this ‘God’ and if he wins, there will be marginal hope in your quest to stop him. Not even I know what lies beyond Halysian, or if such a realm even exists—not for certain.”

“While that all makes sense, I’m not understanding why Ahzef would want to tarnish the reputation of the two families,” Licht said, echoing Hika’s concerns. “Was he attempting to lure the princesses out and play on their heartstrings, or was this something more devious? Perhaps… the perfect opportunity to test the limits of this so-called god?”

“I’d like to tell you that’s precisely why, but Ahzef is very tight-lipped. However,” Mikaun pulled a yellowed page from the side pocket of his pants, handing the wad of wrinkled paper to Licht, “there’s more than enough reason to believe that is the case.”

Licht read the contents of the page aloud: “It was always a risky move. When one has such means as to stand toe-to-toe with the very creator themselves, there becomes a certain level of feasibility. Hypothetically speaking, perhaps the idea of God is just that—an idea. While that may be a convenient resolution for some, I’ve spent these last few years of research attempting to prove what many throw blind faith towards… and I believe I have discovered an appropriate manner in which to test those very beliefs.”

“For extra context,” Mikaun said, “check the date in the lower right corner of the page. It should help fill in the gaps to what we just discussed. Similarly, that page was written by someone Aria knows well—it’s the entire reason she’s part of this.”

Licht angled the lower right corner of the page like a cartographer trying to read a map. The ink was faded, and the fanciful handwriting didn’t help its legibility, but it was there, printed on the corner, like he’d said. He knew the devils wouldn’t let such an important piece of paper just slip through their fingers which could only mean that whoever wrote the note was someone close to Ahzef, Mikaun, and Aria. Unfortunately, that was as far as Licht’s own knowledge could take him for the moment.

“This is dated back to the Searing Wounds event though, not to mention it’s signed by someone known as D. Stemmer,” he noted. “I’d say that’s a pretty important detail, and I’m of the belief that, after everything we’ve been told, D. Stemmer isn’t Ahzef. It was a plausible theory at first, but now I’m starting to think he’s actually just building off of this D. Stemmer guy’s foundation.”

“Allow me to provide you with some context and, this time, you’ll learn the true identity of the one who seeks to fuel the coming conflict,” Mikaun added. “The D is simple enough—devils are not creative, they are crafty. The D stands for “Devil”, but what about the name “Stemmer”? That one is a little more complicated, but I’ll try to explain it in a way that makes sense.” A sudden chill overtook Licht as he began to shudder. Hika eyed him warily. “This world is but one of many. The extensive weather changes you’ve been experiencing across your world are due to the annihilation of different worlds within the universal plane. These worlds are just like yours, down to the very blades of grass beneath your feet, but do you know what gets left behind when these worlds, these other dimensions, are destroyed and how that affects your world?”

Hika was the first to answer. “The Aurei call them seeds. They contain all the information needed to start life over from scratch and contain a history of everything that happened from its inception up until its death, but they also contain the purest form of magical energy, something only a ‘God’ could handle.”

“So, like a genetic code in a way?” Licht surmised, rubbing his arms across his body for warmth. “Sorry, that’s probably a bit confusing for you.”

“You are correct, boy,” Mikaun said. “The seeds she mentioned,” Mikaun said, looking at Hika, “actually have a very specific name—azoth.”

“The alchemical substance that was supposed to be able to cure any illness? The thing they dubbed the “universal remedy” from like a century ago?” Excitement overtook Licht’s body. “I’ve heard rumors that maybe it was real, but…”

Ethera rejoined the conversation. “It’s been around much longer than that. The neriolite that Ahzef uses is made from azoth, but it’s a highly dangerous substance if used for things other than its originally intended alchemical purpose. Alchemy is not magic and should not be treated as such. Azoth is made from a variety of alchemical substances and thus cannot become azoth without those other materials.”

Mikaun motioned for Licht and Hika to sit. “To enter the realm of a God, one of two things are required: an invitation, or the acquisition of azoth, regardless of its form. An invitation is only ever offered in the most extreme and dire of circumstances, such as when the ethereal lifespan has been reached or a successor has been chosen to inherit providence.” He cleared his throat. “You see, azoth is more than just a miracle cure. It is something that can transcend entire worlds. The two halifers used to open the doorway between Earth and Chiipha are one example as they both contain traces of azoth.”

Ethera nodded, suggesting he continue. “I’ll fill in any gaps once you have finished. The second of the two requirements is the most important.”

Mikaun crossed his arms. “The second thing, the acquisition of azoth itself, is a less formal way of entering the realm of a god, but it can be done. Because azoth emits such strong alchemical energy, it is able to draw from every leyline, absorbing every drop of magical energy from a dying world before it collapses. You’re probably wondering how alchemy and magic are related after telling you they aren’t the same thing. The simple answer is that they’re not, but both forms of energy draw from the same source, the leylines in the Earth and Chiipha, depending on where you are.”

“So, magic and alchemy are both related and unrelated to each other,” Licht said, thinking. “But if they draw from the same energy source, then does alchemy have a similar function to magic, or no?”

“Alchemy is only activated when there is something of equal value to exchange for the use of its power,” Mikaun said. “For example, if I want to turn a wooden plank into an oar, I would need that wooden plank and however much more wood if the plank alone wasn’t enough. The plank is what’s being transmuted. For magic, that something is the transmutation of your mana into magical energy, an automatic process. For alchemy, it usually requires a transmutation circle in order to access that energy.”

Licht nodded. “Makes sense. Magic doesn’t transmute things, though, which is where alchemy comes in, but in order to use alchemy, you need to have a transmutation circle… And in order to create azoth—”

“You need a transmutation circle,” Hika finished. “So, if one were to combine both magic and alchemy together, that would create a path to the realm of the gods?”

Mikaun scratched his head. “Sort of. Alchemy and magic have always existed, but alchemy is about taking the unique compounds that make up an object in order to create it. If I wanted to make a stone fountain in the middle of this field, I would need enough stone and the appropriate transmutation circle. Magic is the exact opposite, in a way—it just doesn’t create things the same way. There is no transmutation of material objects.”

Ethera took over the conversation. “Alchemy was cast aside in favor of magic when it was discovered certain individuals could use alchemy without a transmutation circle, but its effect was different. Rather than creating things, it powered them. Likewise, if one wanted to create something, they would still need traditional alchemy.”

“The weapons Licht is able to create, is that magic since there’s no transmutation circle?” Hika asked.

“Yes,” Ethera replied. “It is still magic because what he is able to create does not involve the direct use of material objects. Magic can create but it cannot persist. If you wanted to create a stone fountain, using Mikaun’s example, you could theoretically do so with magic, but it would not be made from materials found in this world and therefore would disappear after a short time. The trick to that,” she added, “is when something is made from the mana your body naturally stores and collects, only then can it maintain some semblance of permanence, but it enacts a heavy toll on the caster, another reason why alchemy was the preferred method for so long.”

“Alchemy, however, died out in use a long time ago because the practice was thought to be overcomplicated and tedious,” Mikaun explained. “Hence why magic became the dominant energy. It was faster and easier to use. Alchemy required knowing the correct transmutation circle to use and having enough of the material to create the desired object. If there wasn’t enough of the material and the transmutation was cast anyway, something would be taken from the caster in exchange, and it wasn’t always pretty.”

Ethera finished the explanation. “Tying things together now, each world, including your own Earth, stores countless tiny bubbles of azoth, the foundation for the leylines’ energy, but it’s inaccessible. No one, and nothing, can claim that energy for themselves. That is…”

“Unless you disturb the balance of the universe?” The conversation about magic and alchemy had piqued Licht’s interest. “Would it be a stretch to say that, when Azhef devours these other worlds, that’s what’s causing the disturbances I’ve been feeling?”

“Didn’t take you long to figure that little puzzle out, eh?” Mikaun was impressed. “If he creates enough of a disturbance, those little bubbles become dislodged and roam about their assigned world. To the ordinary person, they’d never know, but for everyone and everything else, they’d be able to seek these bubbles out, harnessing their power. Ahzef seeks to use that power to revive Nertiia. However,” he continued, “those same bubbles also contain the information needed to restart life if something were ever to happen alongside the entire history of that specific world. Ahzef has likely already collected most of the bubbles from the worlds he’s devoured.”

“I see…” Licht leaned back, allowing his head to rest against the flowers as he stared into the sky. “Azhef has been destroying all of these different worlds in order to upset the balance of the universal plane. More specifically, he wants to disrupt the energy created by the azoth bubbles just enough to dislodge the bubbles themselves. Now it all makes sense.”

“Correct,” Mikaun affirmed. “I know I said devils aren’t creative, but Ahzef remains the exception to that rule at times. The name ‘Stemmer’ is a name that was used many centuries ago during the Amalian Empire’s golden years. It’s not a certainty, but the term was coined after Nertiia was sealed away which would coincide with the peak of Ahzef’s frustrations.”

“Let’s wrap this up, Mikaun. It would seem Hika already knows,” Ethera urged, noticing the sudden spark in her eyes. “There is still more to get to, after all.”

He nodded. “To stop Nertiia’s rampage, and what would have been the ultimate destruction of the universal plane, King Kreshnar and Kugil fought alongside each other, but Kugil would not join the fight until a full decade after the battle had already begun. King Kreshnar was a mighty warrior, but he would not have been able to stop Nertiia without Kugil,” Mikaun explained further. “He held the line until he could join him.”

Hika explained the rest. “After Kugil died, his soul was judged and weighed based upon the deeds and misdeeds while he was still alive. He was unable to return to the world of life until he made up for the wrongdoings in his life. Because no being is ever created without flaw, he spent a decade in the afterlife atoning for his mistakes—something every soul had to do at the time. For some, it was a lot longer and, for others, it was a shorter sentence.”

“Bit of a frightening thought,” Licht admitted, “but it makes sense why it took so long. To think that the history books actually kind of got it right is incredible, though.”

“Mhm. That is why King Kreshnar fought alone for so long. Kugil was his friend and his rival, but Amalon existed during the time of the gods. Soul weighing was a ritual that could only be performed in the afterlife, and thus something every soul had to go through, but those gods were consumed by Nertiia—all except one, and I think that one god is perhaps the one who resides above Halysian.”

“Stimnir,” Licht and Hika said in unison.

“And with that, I think my job here is done,” Mikaun said, pleased. “You’ve done your research, kid. You too, Hika. That is precisely what Ahzef is trying to do, disrupt the universal plane enough to scatter the azoth bubbles. The only problem is, he wants to use the power obtained from the azoth for a stronger neriolite, one that can even rewind the past. He wants to do this all over, from the very start—a time when his ideal world was far easier to create… A time when he was much stronger, perhaps even rivaling Nertiia herself.”

Licht adjusted his sitting position, now cross-legged in a sunken patch of flowers. He pushed his hair from his forehead, holding it back with one hand. While they’d concluded what Ahzef was really after, the fact remained that the Reverse Royalty’s pursuit of the princesses seemed to lack an explanation. There had to be more to the halifers and princesses than what everyone realized, but what? To siphon their powers? What good would that do him? Question after question tore through his mind, sparking new fires in place of the ones he’d just put out.

“First of all, does he want Nertiia’s power to become a god, or does he want the azoth bubbles to challenge the remaining god?” he asked.

“Yes and no,” Ethera answered. “What Azhef wants is to become a god—not the god. It’s like you read—Azhef does not believe such a god exists and therefore wants to fill that void and rewrite everything with him at its center. However, he does not deny that such a being might truly exist, that seed of doubt within him, and that is why he needs the two princesses—to open the gates that lead beyond Halysian.”

“And through the Erill Gate,” Hika quietly finished.

Everyone fell silent. It was as if time itself stood still: the breeze petered out, the ethereal sun stopped warming, and no one moved—not even a breath. With the revelation of such a startling truth, there seemed little time to formulate even the most minuscule semblance of a counter plan. It was a lot to take in and even more to digest, but things were different this time: Licht knew they couldn’t hope to match what King Kreshnar and Kugil were, but what mattered most was that he and, soon to be everyone else, knew what to do next.

He hoisted himself from the ground and stared into Mikaun’s eyes. “I want to pose a scenario to you. Let’s say I have a series circuit with multiple lightbulbs in it, but one burns out, causing the rest of the circuit to stop working. When I replace the burnt-out bulb, the circuit functions properly again.” His gaze remained fixed on Mikaun.

“If you’re comparing Ahzef’s quest to siphon off the azoth to a series circuit, I can’t say that’s the best comparison.”

“Theoretically though, can we fix the loop like a series circuit and bad bulb?”

“It’s not that simple. You would need power that rivals that of a god to be able to access the information stored in the azoth bubbles and restore them.”

“Ok, but it’s still possible, right?”

“Yes, but—”

“Licht,” Ethera interjected. Her tone had become serious. “I know what you’re thinking, and I’ll be the first one to tell you not to try it. You would have to be a fool to try and quite literally play God. Do not throw your life away for those that cannot return after death.”

“She’s right,” Hika said. “It is not worth trying. We have to find Lacia and the others again—talk it over or something.”

“Look, I appreciate the sentiment and all, but playing God… It’s absolutely a fool’s errand,” he said, tilting his head toward the sky, “but isn’t God just an idea, after all? Nobody really knows if Stimnir exists or not, nor do we know why they’d be the only one left after the gods were devoured by Nertiia.”

“No, Licht,” Hika warned. “We don’t have the time, or resources, to attempt something as crazy as trying to track down any possible rogue bubbles—we can’t just restart those worlds by ourselves. There is no guarantee something like that would even work.”

“If one has the power, why not play God? Think about it. If God really is just an idea, then who’s to say that we don’t just create more gods right now and put an end to all of this? Actually,” Licht paused, “that sounded really stupid. The idea is to gather enough energy to enter the realm of the gods to see for ourselves. Hika,” he said, “you mentioned the other gods had been devoured. Are you certain they no longer exist?”

She gave an aslant frown. “Yes, but I can’t say for certain Stimnir still exists. Our perception of what a god is could be all wrong, you know? It is not that easy.”

Without warning, the halifer in Licht’s hand began to shine as the band grew warm with an overabundance of energy, but it didn’t resemble the same energy that he’d seen Mana and Brendan use, and it certainly wasn’t anything like the magic he knew. Curiously, he laid the band on the ground, watching as it continued to expand until it had grown wide enough to step inside of, a golden circle that led to somewhere.

Hika approached first, slowly lifting one leg over the edge, then the other. Licht watched as she stepped into the mysterious ring, movements trance-like as if she were being guided by an unseen force, mapping every action like that of a game controller. It seemed something had overheard their conversation.

A multitude of lights swaddled the air, streaming like multi-colored batons as they transformed the sky from sapphire to deep lavender. Even the stars seemed eager to play as they began an unprecedented descent, joining the string of lights in their fanfare. Licht staggered backward, awestruck. He turned toward Mikaun though it seemed he was just as consumed by the immaculate stellar display.

Ethera spoke softly. “So… The rumors were true, after all. I never could have imagined this is how you would make yourself known. I’m humbled that you would grace us with your providence.”

A hand grabbed Licht’s shoulder, filling him with such hypnotic calm he momentarily forgot who and where he was. He turned to face whoever had grabbed him and was greeted with the biggest and brightest smile he’d ever seen before it promptly vanished. For a moment, a bearded face seemed to emerge from the center of the spiraling band of lights, coalescing into the golden aura emanating from the halifer.

“My—”

“God,” finished a mysterious aura. “Yes, it is rather unorthodox, as you have said, Ethera. The halifers have begun to react, releasing their stored potential to those they have chosen to wield the power of the azoth stored within.”

The flickering image of a man with a long grey beard and braided hair flashed before him only to be replaced by another fleeting image, but of a much younger man in long, white robes. He must have watched at least twenty different people appear in the shimmering aura of something he had no words for. Face after face appeared in the streams of light, each containing the embodiment of a single emotion and moment from his past.

“Ethera, I will be borrowing the boy for a moment. I shall return him to you shortly,” the aura spoke.

“Very well,” she bowed.