Her breaths came in ragged gasps, each one a battle against the deep ache radiating through her limbs. She couldn’t remember her health ever being this low, though her recent brush with actually dying gave that thought an unsettling edge. The throbbing ache of mana exhaustion hammered behind her eyes, a relentless pulse that felt as if her skull might split cleanly in two.
Every nerve screamed, every muscle trembled, and yet here she was, still clinging to the remnants of consciousness.
"No. Not quite. You pulled out too quickly. Go again."
Through bloodshot eyes, she could just make out Eliud standing a little to her left. She knew he was very conscious of the image he projected to others, so she assumed he was noisily munching an apple to make himself seem even more objectionable.
“I could eat him?” Savage suggested, nudging her head against Kirstin’s with a force that sent a fresh wave of pain surging through her already fragile senses.
“Tempting thought,” Kirstin muttered through clenched teeth. “But could you really?”
Savage purred thoughtfully for a moment, then let out a dissatisfied yowl as she began an elaborate stretching routine, each movement elegant and exaggerated. “Probably not, actually,” she replied, “I suspect he would cause… indigestion.”
“You both realise I can hear you, right?” Eliud said, pausing mid-bite to look at them with exaggerated exasperation. “And, for the record, I’m not entirely sure how I’ve become the villain in this particular scenario. If our dear Celestial Harbinger had managed to master even this most basic of techniques, we would already be on our way. It’s hardly my fault she’s proving so… underwhelming in wielding her own Class.”
He took another loud crunch of his apple, raising an eyebrow as if daring them to protest.
Kirstin pushed herself up, immediately regretting the decision as her vision blurred and her stomach lurched, threatening revolt. She held a hand to her forehead. “No, please—stop,” she said. “My ego simply cannot withstand this constant stroking.”
“Take it from someone who’s had entire civilisations devote themselves to stroking his ego—it gets old fast.” Eliud tossed the core of his apple with casual precision toward the centre of the portal. It struck the swirling energy and burst into a fine mist of juice, dissipating with a faint sizzle as though the portal itself had swallowed it up.
“I can certainly compliment you on the sincerity of your efforts, if that would help?” Eliud said. “Though, seeing as you’ve yet to short-out the portal’s defences and bring us any closer to rescuing Genoes, I’m holding off on the standing ovation. Call me demanding, but I thought I’d wait for something worth celebrating—like, perhaps, actual results?”
"How bad would the indigestion be?" Kirstin found herself muttering to her cat.
*
The plan, such as it was, remained relatively straightforward.
As a Celestial Harbinger, Kirstin possessed a Skill called
His reasoning was this: if Kirstin stood within the portal with
“Assuming nothing goes catastrophically wrong,” Eliud had added, “this will be unpleasantly intense for a bit... for you, that is.”
So far, though, it had not been working out like that.
The moment Kirstin stepped into the portal’s embrace, a deep sense of wrongness washed over her, suffocating and unfamiliar. It was as though time itself had shifted, bending in ways her mind could not comprehend. The space felt alien – defying the very nature of existence – and she could feel the fabric of her being contorting in response, a violent resistance deep within her.
The sensation was not just discomfort—it was a physical, aching intrusion into the very soul of her. Her senses, flooded with a foreign energy, screamed in muted silence, and a searing pain wrapped around her consciousness, tightening like a vice. The sensation of otherness was so unpleasant that it felt as though the ground beneath her had turned to dust, her body tethered to nothing but the unbearable void.
Kirstin tried to hold her ground, but the pressure of it – the suffocating impossibility of this place – tore through her. Her breath was the only thing grounding her as she staggered back, retreating from the edge of this strange, fractured reality, her whole being shuddering with the relief of simply escaping.
Eliud offered a hand and, with an almost careless flick of his wrist, pulled Kirstin upright, his energy flowing effortlessly to refresh her health and mana. “Look, I’m not saying you’re not trying your hardest,” he said, his tone almost too casual, “it’s just—well—you must improve your resolve. Substantially.”
Kirstin bit back the sting of her frustration. “Did you want to give it a try?” she said. “Do you have the faintest idea what it feels like to try and keep that Skill open in the middle of that portal? It’s like the Goddess herself is trying to erase me from time. If I step out, it’s because it feels like I would cease to exist unless I do!” She wasn’t sure whether to laugh at his blasé attitude or scream at him for suggesting that something so impossibly difficult was just a matter of willpower.
"Speaking as the only one of us a god has actually tried to remove from existence, I just want to flag the hyperbole there. I am sure it is very uncomfortable, but no one ever said being a hero was all sunshine and rainbows, my dear. I had thought you were built of sterner stuff."
Josul barked loudly. Eliud glanced down, his expression momentarily softening before a hint of exasperation flickered in his eyes. The oversized lap dog growled, then barked again, his teeth gleaming white like shards of bone in the dim light.
The Pendragon let out a long, resigned sigh, then pressed his finger and thumb to the bridge of his nose, as if trying to will away the rising tide of frustration. "Fine," Eliud said, the word drawn out like a reluctant surrender. He turned his piercing purple eyes to Kirstin. "I’m told I’m being unnecessarily unpleasant."
Josul barked once more as if punctuating his words.
"Fine," he repeated, more sincere. "Kirstin, I am sorry for pushing you so hard. I spoke out of turn in questioning your commitment to the cause." He paused. "Will you forgive me?"
The words lingered in the air, an unexpected vulnerability from someone who seldom saw the need to apologize. Kirstin glanced at Josul, whose tongue lolled out in an entirely human-like expression of unrestrained joy, his tail wagging with a simplicity that was almost endearing.
“Sure,” she said.“You are forgiven.”
Josul gave an enthusiastic bark, as if to confirm the sentiment, his joy infectious in its innocence.
"Happy now?" Eliud directed a half-hearted kick at the dog, which it dodged with an effortless bound, yapping as it did so.
"In truth, though, I am truly sorry," he added to Kirstin. "It is not with you that I am frustrated, but rather myself. I feel keenly the passing of time on this quest. It feels like every moment we waste here on this side of the damned portal, success slips further away from our grasp."
This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
"You think Genoes is in danger?"
“Genoes. Daine. Taelsin. The West.” Eliud’s voice grew heavier with each name, his face darkening. He stared into the distance, his gaze far-off, as if seeing something beyond the present moment. “I cannot shake the feeling that we’re being kept away from events that truly demand our attention.”
He let the silence stretch for a moment. “I fear we are choosing Genoes over other matters—arguably more pressing, more weighty matters.”
"You are suggesting we abandon him?"
"No. Not for an instant. Merely that we do need to move forward with alacrity." Eliud moved over to the portal and dropped to his haunches, rolling up the sleeve of his robe to expose his bare arm.
The passage into the realm of the Dark God had taken on a slick, oily texture since they had first attempted to cross through. Standing within it, even wearing her
With a shudder, the Pendragon extended his arm, thrusting it unflinchingly into the gaping wound of the portal.
The response was immediate, and just as agonizing as before. The moment Eliud's hand made contact with the greasy surface, a sickening sizzle filled the air, followed by the sharp, unmistakable scent of burning flesh. His skin began to bubble, the pain a sharp, searing fire that threatened to consume him from the inside out.
But this time, Eliud didn’t pull back. Instead, his brow furrowed in fierce concentration as he activated one of his healing Skills, his focus unyielding even as the overwhelming damage wracked his body. His flesh twisted and contorted, but he gritted his teeth, determined to endure.
The stench was unbearable, an acrid, putrid mix of charred skin and raw, exposed nerve endings. It clung to the air, heavy and relentless, as though the very essence of pain itself had taken form.
Kirstin watched, appalled, as the Duskstrider's arm was reduced to a smoking wreck, repaired, and then incinerated again. The scene played out over and over again without any noticeable change in the nature of the portal.
Then Josul was at Eliud's side, pressing his right paw on top of his master's hand. The dog growled softly as its own fur was burned away, but he did not pull back, even as Kirstin realised the bones of Josul's leg had become exposed by the attack.
Strain appeared on Eliud's face as he began to heal the dog, too.
His voice, when it came, was unnervingly calm, as though he were discussing an insignificant matter. "It’s not a question of power, you see. I can keep the healing going for as long as I want—although, frankly, why I’d choose to endure this any longer than absolutely necessary is a question that’s becoming increasingly difficult to answer." He paused, the only sign of strain a slight tightness around his eyes. "However, while I do not have limits on my mana, I’ve long found that there are only so many things I can focus on at any given time."
His gaze flicked to the swirling portal, then back to the task at hand, the weight of his words sinking in. The healing was not the problem—his attention was.
The sizzle and hiss of burning flesh—both human and animal—was a horrific counterpoint to the calm, measured tone of his voice. "I could, for example, likely stop either of us from feeling the pain," Eliud continued, his words steady, "but then it would be difficult to discern what needs repairing. Pain has its purpose. Sometimes, it is the only way to identify what requires our attention. It is often through such unpleasant experiences that we are forced to grow."
He paused, the stench of charred flesh thick in the air, yet his expression remained resolute. "You would be wise to remember that."
There was a quiet finality to his words, as if he understood the nature of suffering more intimately than anyone should.
"I don't understand what you want me to do!" Kirstin felt the edge of hysteria creep into her voice. "Just tell me what to do, and I'll do it!"
Savage leapt off Kirstin’s shoulder, landing gracefully onto Josul’s back before creeping carefully down to his massive head. Her movements were hesitant, cautious, as she extended her paw, placing it gingerly atop the dog’s. She hissed, the sound sharp with distaste as she felt the portal’s damage ripple through Josul’s fur, the unnatural energy seeping into her own limbs.
Now, the trio—man, dog, and cat—were all pressing against the portal’s surface, each one paying a heavy price.
The air around them seemed to throb with an unseen force, and the toll of their proximity was huge, each of them bearing the weight of the portal’s power in their own way. It was an agonising struggle, but they continued forward, undeterred, each step a defiance against the force that sought to tear their bodies apart.
"The theory is sound," Eliud said. "The Dark God doesn't possess enough power—not with so many of his pieces in play—to make this an impregnable gateway to his realm. However, he has made the price of entry very high."
He scowled briefly, his control slipping for just a moment. Three of his fingers disintegrated into a puff of smoke. He quickly willed them back into existence, his face taut with concentration.
Kirstin, however, noticed the subtle change—a sheen of sweat had begun to form on his forehead, a faint tremor in his hands that he could no longer completely mask. The sight unnerved her, a stark reminder that even Eliud had limits, even if those limits were far beyond anything she could comprehend.
Had she ever seen him lose his composure in such a manner before?
When Eliud spoke again, his words were clipped with pain. "I need you to try again, Kirstin," he said, his gaze hardening. "I know it hurts, and I would shield you from it if I could, but the path to progress is never meant to be easy."
He nodded towards Josul and Savage, who stood beside them, their eyes watchful. "Between the three of us," Eliud continued, his voice steady despite the growing fatigue, "given enough time, we can likely drain enough of the malevolence away to break through. But I cannot promise that something catastrophic won’t happen to those we care about while we wait. We need you to play your part."
The weight of his words hung in the air, the urgency thick, and for a brief moment, Kirstin saw the vulnerability beneath his calm exterior—the quiet acceptance that their fate was, at best, uncertain. She wasn’t sure if he was more worried about what the portal might do to them or what might happen to everyone else in the meantime.
Without another word, Kirstin stepped forward, dragged all three of them out of the portal and activated
*
Kirstin hovered at the heart of the storm, her form flickering like a distant star against the endless void.
The swirling vortex around her was a tumultuous maelstrom of raw energy, violent and relentless, seeking to pull her apart, to reduce her to nothing more than ash. Yet, within the embrace of
The world around her was a blur of shifting shadows and crackling power, but she stood still, suspended in the eye of the storm, her body straining against the unbearable pressure that sought to crush her into oblivion.
Her Cloak enveloped her in a shimmering, translucent veil, shifting in hues of deep purples and blues that, she realised with shock, were almost the mirror of Eliud's eyes.
As before, each pulse of the portal's destructive energy brushed against her skin but seemed unable to grasp her presence in the way it had the others. However, the effort to remain intangible was monumental, and Kirstin felt the strain on every fibre of her being.
Once again, her mana drained swiftly, a relentless tide pulling at her reserves. But even with the scent of rendered flesh still heavy in the air, Kirstin refused to step away as exhaustion began to gnaw at her.
As time stretched on, it felt as though
The exhaustion was deep and brutal. Her bones trembled beneath the strain, the very marrow seeming to crack under the unrelenting weight of the sustained spell. Yet, amidst the agony, her mind remained locked on the image of Genoes, his face a beacon that cut through the growing fog of fear and fatigue.
She had promised to find him. She had sworn to bring him back, and she would not—could not—allow even the crushing weight of pain to sway her from that vow.
Each second stretched into an eternity as Kirstin held her ground, the portal's energy swirling around her in furious, impotent currents. She could feel her mana reserves slipping away, draining with every pulse of the portal’s power. It was a relentless countdown, and with each passing moment, she could sense the fragile barrier of
Then, with a deafening crack, the air seemed to shatter like a thousand mirrors, the sound of it cutting through her senses like a jagged knife. In that instant, Eliud's arms closed around her, pulling her away from the threshold of oblivion.
The warmth of his embrace, unexpected and grounding, wrapped around her like a lifeline, a stark contrast to the cold, fracturing space she had been trapped within. The world was still, but her heart raced as the storm receded, if only for a moment.
"That'll do, girl. That'll do."
Kirstin pushed him away, sure he was about to be swallowed up by the fire of the Dark God's wrath, but then she realised there was no pain.
No crushing pressure.
What was more, a notification floated in her vision.
The notification barely registered in Kirstin’s mind before the weight of exhaustion overwhelmed her. The cold, biting embrace of unconsciousness swept over her like a tide, and for once, she didn’t fight it.
She welcomed it—grateful for the reprieve. The torrent of pain, the suffocating pressure of the portal, all faded into the distance as her body gave in, the shroud of darkness enveloping her.
In that moment, the world stilled. Time itself seemed to halt, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, she found peace.