Micah and Cal were up before the faint sunlight filtered through bleak clouds the next morning. Micah had garnered little sleep. The conversation with Lord Kyba the previous night churned over and over in his mind, demanding his attention and refusing him rest. Why did Kyba entrust him with so many priceless treasures? Micah, a former servant of one who sought to harm Charlotte? An assassin, a thief, a weapon. A person he barely knew?
Today, Kyba intended to die. Though he hadn’t given a specific day or hour, Micah had sensed it during their talk. After a thousand years, he was tired. A ragged longing held a place deep within his eyes. A desire to rest and be comforted for too many years of lonely sentry on this rock called the Mountain of the Wolf. Micah understood this; even so, he still had numerous questions, many of which he feared would be left unanswered.
They quietly made their way downstairs. To their surprise, Charlotte was awake, sitting at the kitchen table next to Lord Kyba. They were talking in low voices, and she appeared to be suppressing tears while he stroked her back in a comforting way.
Micah and Cal looked at each other before nodding and turning back. They waited inside their room patiently. While Micah was glad Kyba took the initiative to tell her what was going to happen, he hoped Charlotte wouldn’t be too devastated. However, that seemed a pipe dream. Charlotte had taken to Kyba instantly. Being told not only that he must die but that she would be the cause would surely break her heart. As they sat silent in their room, Micah vowed to comfort her the best way he knew how once it was over.
Several hours later, a soft knock came at the door, and Micah opened it. Charlotte rushed into his arms. She cried softly, hiccupping into his chest. He held her, stroking her hair and letting her cling to him as long as she desired.
“This isn’t fair,” she whispered, clutching closer to him.
Micah wasn’t sure how to reply. When his attempt to think of a way to do so extended for several moments, Cal rolled his eyes and jumped off the bed.
“Charlotte, try to see this in a different light,” he said. “Lord Kyba has been longing for this day, and he approaches it with elation. Just imagine how lonely he has been all these years.”
Charlotte let go of Micah, wiping her eyes. “I suppose that’s true.”
“His family and friends… everyone he has ever known is gone while he stayed behind. It’s finally his turn now. So don’t think of it as a time of mourning, but a time of joy. He’s been waiting for you, and now you’re here to give him his long awaited deliverance.”
She smiled, kneeling down to hug the Murr. “Thank you, Cal.”
He purred mightily before realizing Micah was watching him. Clearing his throat, Cal gently pulled from her grasp. “Well then, I think we should see if Lord Kyba or John need us for anything. I’m not sure what they have in store for us today.”
When they came back down, the house was filled with the smell of pancakes. A bountiful heap had been placed on the table beside a wedge of butter and pitcher of syrup. Kyba unloaded a pan of scrambled eggs into a bowl just as John came downstairs, yawning and adjusting his glasses to the morning light.
“Eat up, all of you,” Kyba said. “We make for the Desolate Tower in an hour and it’s no walk in the park.”
John and Charlotte’s faces fell. “So soon?” John asked.
He put a hand on John’s shoulder, and a serious look came over the old Avalon. “It’s time.”
John could make no argument. Crestfallen, he slumped into a chair beside Charlotte. While Micah and Cal dined zealously, the other two weren’t able to eat much, picking at the food with their forks. Kyba ate mechanically, putting away a sizeable portion but doing so with little pause to talk or enjoy the food.
Before they realized it, the hour had passed in silence. Kyba cleared away the food, washed the dishes, and wiped off the table while his four guests stood off to the side, watching him work.
When the kitchen was clean, Kyba nodded in satisfaction and turned to them. “Well then, let’s be on our way.”
And in moments, they found themselves marching outside into the frigid cold. John and Charlotte were stunned speechless, and Micah easily understood why. Despite the gravity of the situation, Kyba wasn’t standing on ceremony. He was treating the occasion as casually as if it were an everyday errand. Even Micah could sense the awkwardness in his behavior.
Then again, maybe he truly is ready to go home.
Kyba locked the front doors using the long key from around his neck. When it clicked, he turned to Micah and extended the key to him. Micah took it without a word, stashing the key in an inner pocket. If John or Charlotte found this strange, they didn’t show it. Kyba smirked, pulled his raggedy cloak around his shoulders, and set off with his company in tow. Tied to the Rinx Lord’s belt was a long object covered in black velvet that could only have been a sword. A curious feeling seeped from the object, powerful yet not menacing.
They trudged up a narrow path, barely discernible in the snow. Besides Kyba, they were bundled in their warmest clothing, but the cold still soaked through, turning John’s face a violent red and causing Charlotte’s nose to run. The trek was made in silence, as the burden of their cause weighed heavy on their hearts, most of all Charlotte’s, who struggled with bouts of weeping as they walked. Kyba didn’t attempt to console her, though his expression relayed the wish to do so.
After a few miles, they reached a plateau, where a river ran through an open field of snowy blankets. Micah was astonished by the sight. At such an altitude, he expected anything liquid to be frozen solid, yet there it was. In the distance, a rocky crag rose to new heights. The stone formation resembled a wolf’s head, and a torrent of water spilled from its open mouth to crash into the river below, throwing up a glacial mist that saturated the air.
Kyba turned off the path, walking along the river bank. His companions followed, careful as they waded through heaping mounds of snow. Charlotte struggled, ill equipped to keep pace due to her clothes and shoes. Micah offered his back, which she accepted, hopping on to him and clinging to his neck. Kyba followed the river all the way to the mouth. The falls roared as it crashed against the waters, and the freezing spray threatened to soak them to the bone. He quickly turned, however, following the edge of the rock formation until they came to another wide field.
They stopped, utterly stunned.
It was as if they had stepped into a different world. The snow was gone, leaving an endless, flat plain of volcanic rock. Heat rushed to meet their faces, defrosting their skin but too quick and intense to appreciate. And it spread in every direction to no discernible end. Or it seemed that way at first. For when they scanned the horizon and their eyes adjusted to the sudden new environment, they all saw it. In fact, it was impossible not to see it.
A wall. But not just a wall. It was like a border to the world itself. From west to east, ground to sky, it reached forever. A sheer, endless barricade of otherworldly dimensions.
“What… is that?” Charlotte asked breathlessly.
“The Desolate Tower,” Kyba replied, not stopping. His companions rushed to catch up to him, still craning their necks at the impossible structure before them. “Built by Valhalla at the beginning of the age.”
“Inconceivable,” Micah whispered in awe.
“Where does it end?” Cal asked. “And how did we not see this only moments before? How has anyone not seen this before?”
“It appears when I say it does,” Kyba grunted. After several minutes’ walking, he stopped and turned. “This should about do it.”
Micah let Charlotte down, and they stood with John and Cal in a line before him, apprehensive. Kyba’s right eye turned purple as he activated his Foresight. “Step forward, Missy,” he said.
Charlotte wrung her hands at a fervid pace as she broke the line and approached. He walked with her until they were out of earshot. Stopping again, he looked up at the tower, slowly scanning its breadth as wall faded into clouds and shadow where no eyes could see, not even theirs. Charlotte thought maybe she saw sadness in his face, but then he smiled. A sincere smile that offended the wrinkles so dependent on frowns.
He turned to face her and took hold of her shoulders. “So, here we are.”
“Yes,” Charlotte said. A feeling of dread came over her.
“The New Moon is a very dangerous magic, child. A power only bestowed on two individuals in history before you. I knew them both, and they both died because of it. The reason I’m telling you this is to encourage you, because I’m convinced you won’t share the same fate.” He touched her nose. “You’re a good girl, and I know you’ll use it wisely. Now, the New Moon is something that would normally take a long time for anyone to find, but I’m going to help you open the Sealed Eye and achieve the first level.”
She nodded fearfully. Stepping behind her, Kyba again took her shoulders. “Easy there, child. Just breathe. This won’t hurt a bit.”
“That’s not what I’m nervous about,” she whispered.
He hesitated, before nodding. “I understand. But can you be brave for me?”
“I can.”
He reached into a pocket of his cloak and produced a short line of Cure Stones tied together with silver cords. Clipping the two ends together, it formed a makeshift diadem, which he gently placed over Charlotte’s head. The circlet of crystals graced her forehead with splendor, and its effect was instant. She calmed down, all jitters departed.
“Now,” Kyba continued, speaking softly into her ear. “Close your eyes. And I want you to clear your mind. Think of something happy. Push your worries and fears away, and let your comforting thoughts relieve you. The simplest ones will do.”
“Okay,” she said.
“Take your time.”
“I’m ready.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“What are you thinking of?”
“Micah.”
“I see he’s become a great source of courage for you.”
She smiled in spite of the situation. “He’s my very best friend.”
“Do you love him?”
“Yes.”
He chuckled. “You know, I haven’t met a young lady so direct since Aurora. And I say that with all the affection in the world. Now, to the task at hand. I want you to stay still and keep your thoughts on Micah. I will do the rest.”
He reached into his cloak again, this time retrieving two Life Stones and two Black Stones. He situated them between his fingers, one of each in both hands, then gently took hold of her neck. Bowing his head to rest on the back of hers, he began to whisper an incantation unfamiliar to Charlotte. A warm sensation came over her, swirling behind her eyes with strange currents, like lapping water inside her head.
At certain intervals, Kyba would release one hand from her neck to tap her temple with the crystals, then do the same on the other side. They would send new swirls of movement into her head, new prickles of pleasant heat. In went on like this for several minutes. Charlotte tried to keep her thoughts focused, but she was too interested in what he was doing.
And she definitely noticed the growing pressure. With each tap of the crystals against her head, the currents intensified, filling her up. It didn’t hurt, but she began to feel uncomfortable. Her foot tapped the ground incessantly, and she clutched to the furls of her dress, squeezing tight. She wanted to open her eyes so badly, but she didn’t want to disappoint Kyba, and she most certainly didn’t want to start all over.
Just when she thought the pressure might become unbearable, it suddenly relented. Kyba stopped chanting, and he exhaled long and slow. Charlotte couldn’t help but compare the sensation to water emptying down a drain, because that’s exactly how it felt. The waters were soon all gone. And then, in the deepest corner of her mind, she found it. A tiny, living power she had never felt before. It began to grow, dwelling in the recess of abandoned dreams and long-forgotten fears. Building with strength, it seeped deep into her eyes, a black fire of her imagination.
“Charlotte,” Kyba said slowly, taking his forehead off of her head.
“Yes?” she whispered back.
“When I tell you, I want you to open your eyes. When you do, don’t turn around or do anything except look straight ahead. I want you to focus only on the tower.”
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“When do I stop?”
“You will know.” He let go of her neck and stepped back. “You’ve been very brave, child. Now… open your eyes.”
The world she had known was gone. The moment she opened them, a thunderous clap preceded a terrible rumble from somewhere deep beneath the black rock. The wall groaned, labored enough for Charlotte to actually feel it. Streaks of light came rushing into her eyes, causing her to flinch, but she stopped herself from turning her gaze away. Still, the deafening din of the earthquake frightened her. The light filtering into her eyes began to increase in speed and brightness, bending to every flicker of her sight as if she were absorbing it.
Then, it all came crashing down.
The wall crumbled, crushed by some unknown force. In one riotous strike, the unearthly wall quivered and cracked and fell from sky to world in a torrent of rock. It was so loud, so incredibly painful to the ears, Charlotte was sure she would lose her hearing. The rocks tumbled, piling higher and rushing closer in a rolling wave. She backed away, gasping when the avalanche of black rocks drew close enough to kick dust into her face.
Micah, John and Cal sprinted toward her, but Kyba held up his hand to the oncoming flood, pointing an Element Stone. His right eye glowed with dazzling intensity, a yellow star consuming his face in light.
“End,” he said.
And it did. The rocks obeyed his command, sliding to a stop at Charlotte’s feet. Not even an echo accompanied the utter drain of momentum sucked from the life of the landslide. The dust cloud washed away into nether. And the new quiet was as deafening as the crash before it, if not more so. Where a wall had once been, perhaps miles away, a hilled valley of jagged rubble took its place, just as desolate but hardly intimidating.
It was as Kyba told them – Charlotte’s eyes stripped the magic imbued in the tower, leaving it a pathetic heap before her gaze. She slowly turned, lifting her head after a moment’s hesitation. For a single moment, her right iris was pitch black, rimmed by a halo of purple fire. The next moment it was gone, and the blue eye of her birth returned. But it was all Micah needed to see for it to overwhelm him. In the brief moment their eyes met, all energy abandoned his body, sucked dry by a force he could only feel and hoped never to experience again.
Kyba slowly lowered his arm. Sweat poured from his face, and he clutched his side, severely hunched over. His breathing had become so ragged, his chest heaved with the effort. Still, he found the strength to look at Charlotte and smile.
“The Age of Angels… is over.”
He collapsed.
“Lord Kyba!” John shouted in panic.
They rushed to his side, Charlotte and Micah reaching him first.
“Just like that?” Charlotte cried, burying her face in his chest and bursting with tears. “Why didn’t you tell me? I have so much I still wanted to talk to you about!”
“I’m sorry…” he whispered.
Despite his golden Foresight still burning bright, weariness seeped into every part of his body. Micah propped his head, checking his pulse. It barely registered. John stood nearby, reduced to tears, and Cal sat beside him.
Charlotte slowly sat up, stroking the old man’s pale face. “Is there nothing that can be done?” she asked.
“The New Moon strips the light of magic away, no matter the source,” Micah said. “It envelops magic at the foundation and seals it into oblivion. Lord Kyba wasn’t just the guardian of the Desolate Tower – his immortality was bound to it.”
“Yes…” Kyba whispered. “I knew you would realize. But I have some time left. Charlotte… dear Charlotte. Do not fear. This was my destiny. The fate I have waited for and embraced for many long years. I thank you from the bottom of my heart.”
Charlotte brought his hand to her face, blanketing his palm in her tears. “Oh, Kyba. What will become of me? Will death follow everywhere I go?”
“No… one day, you will find your happiness. And in return for the love and kindness you have shown me, I offer you one last gift…”
He gently took back his hand, placing a finger under his right eye. His golden gaze flashed, and then something extraordinary happened. The light of the sealed power came away from his eye, lifting from the surface. As a wax seal is peeled away from a letter, so it was taken up from his eye, rising to float over his face like a small sun.
“Foresight Level Three,” he said. “It can’t be earned, only given. It was presented to me long ago, and now I offer it to you.”
But Charlotte shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t accept it. I’ve had enough of all this power. I’m tired of it. Please forgive me.”
He smiled weakly. “I’m glad. Instead, I shall give you this.” He placed his finger on the floating circle, pressing it down onto her forearm. The light faded into her skin and reappeared as a faint circular mark, barely visible. “You granted my greatest wish. This gift will protect yours. All you need do is ask.”
Before she could say anything, Kyba diverted his gaze to Micah. “Son, all I possess is yours. I know you will be responsible. Do with it as you see fit. But be sure to keep this young lady safe. And son…” He looked Micah in the eye. “I know about the Olenheim Seals. I know what you’ve done to your body. Listen to me now. Don’t use them. Ever. Your life is worth so much more than that.”
Micah’s jaw dropped.
“John…” Kyba whispered.
John quickly came forward, wiping his eyes. “Yes, my Lord?”
“Go home. You served me well. Give my love to Miriam and the children.”
His apprentice burst into new tears.
Kyba smiled again. “It is done.”
He raised his hand, taking Charlotte’s and pulling it toward Micah, who responded by lifting his own hand. Kyba placed them together, making sure their fingers interlocked before letting go. His breathing hitched, and all color abandoned his face. Even so, he seemed serene.
“I used to think being alone was the only sure thing in this world,” he whispered. “But two young people showed me differently… long ago. Mobius and Aurora… they showed me you can’t do things alone. Don’t ever forget that.” A faint chuckle escaped his lips. “Those stupid kids. Look at me, giving advice… ah, I can’t wait to see them again.”
His eyes closed, arms went limp. And they knew without a doubt he was gone.
Shuddering with sobs, Charlotte collapsed over his body.
Micah stood, resting his arm on the handle of his sword and bowing his head. The magnitude of the situation washed over him. A man had waited a thousand years for this day, and they were the select few to witness its coming. The death of a legend as foundational to Carnel’s ancient lore as Ursa herself.
As Charlotte wept over Kyba, something new brushed across those ancient planes, a deep magic that touched Micah’s every sense. There was a cracking sound that snapped them all to attention, followed by another. The ground rumbled beneath Kyba’s body, slowly lifting him up.
Charlotte gasped, pulling him closer to her. “What’s happening, Micah?”
“Don’t panic,” he said. “I think I know what this is. Back away from Lord Kyba.”
Charlotte hesitated, unwilling to let go.
Micah extended his hand to her. “Trust me, Charlotte. Let him go.”
With new tears in her eyes, she gently placed Kyba’s head on the ground. Getting up, she rushed into Micah’s arms as the rattling increased in power and resonance. John and Cal joined them to watch in wonder as a deep split forced apart the rock to open a gaping hole beside Kyba’s body. The crack extended and deepened, circling all the way around until he was entrenched.
The trembling stopped. Then, out of the pits, sheer slabs of ivory like the petals of a flower rose up to encase Kyba in a cocoon. More sheets of sparkling ivory covered those, followed by others until a tower of the intense white rock swirled over itself in a fifty foot tower. At its tipped apex, an ivory eagle perched, wings extended. Then, a sword appeared just beneath the bird – a magnificent blade lodged in the stone that Micah knew must be the same weapon Kyba brought with him. For several moments, they stared at the sudden appearance of the monument in stunned silence.
“What is this, lad?” John asked, tentatively touching the smooth surface. “You said you knew?”
“The ancient Avalon once formed spirit contracts with the earth,” Micah said, gazing at the monument in wonder. “Each and every one of them was born into the contract. During their lifetimes, they would use magic drawn from the hidden wells of nature, much more powerful than any magic we know of today. Then, when they died, the earth would claim their bodies for burial. Their resting spirit would breathe life and energy into the earth before releasing into the next world. Lord Kyba was one of those pure Avalon.”
“Incredible,” John replied. “And each one would be gifted with a grave like this?”
“No. It was said only those with the mightiest spirits received such a tribute.”
The glorious shrine seemed to glow, shining as if bathed in sunlight on the clearest of summer days. It soon became apparent to each of them that something was wrong. Looking up, they saw a singular shaft of light streaming through the gray clouds to blanket the monument. It was warmer and more golden than any light Micah had ever experienced. And it grew brighter still. With each passing moment, the light intensified, turning from pleasant to uncomfortable.
“This isn’t natural,” Cal said, backing away trepidly.
“Cal’s right,” Micah said, following the Murr in backtracking. “Something is happening. John, Charlotte… get out of the light.”
Halt!
The voice boomed with such force, it froze each of them in place. Yet the sound of it was somehow soft at the same time, almost pleasing to the ear. The light was now so intense, they had to shield their eyes. Even so, they couldn’t help but venture a look. In the midst of the radiance, four figures floated above them, forming a ring around Kyba’s grave.
The heat gradually dissipated, and the light relented enough for them to better see. Four winged creatures hovered in the sky. Micah’s first thought turned to the Seraphs, but closer examination proved them much grander in appearance and grace. They weren’t flying. Rather they floated, as if gravity had no hold whatsoever. Each possessed different-colored wings. White, black and yellow sets spread out in grand form, the feathers seemingly formed from energy itself. The fourth set burned with red fire, far more majestic than the other three. The four personages wore tunics that shamed silver’s finest luster, and a sword championed each of their belts.
“They’re angels!” Charlotte said.
Micah took a step back, perturbed by the truth behind her statement. The moment he did, the angel with red wings looked directly at him. Unlike the other three, she was female. Golden hair cascaded down her back, and the weapon at her side resembled a rapier rather than a traditional blade. Two small marks like black diamonds decorated her cheeks. She slowly descended until her bare feet nearly touched the ground, and she placed her arms at her sides.
While Micah, John and Cal stayed motionless, Charlotte approached with wide, hopeful eyes. Micah was surprised by her fearless action, and he readied himself to run after her if the creatures proved hostile.
“Peace, Micah Champlain,” the angel said. Her voice was but a whisper, yet mightier than the heaviest gong. “For we are but messengers, and we come to you now at the end of the age.”
“Who are you?” Charlotte asked, clasping her hands at her chest.
“My name was Arabella. Now I am Hallowed End, for I am the last.”
“The last what?” Micah asked, joining Charlotte.
“The last angel to appear before men. The Age of Angels is over, and a new age must now begin. It is God’s will.” She looked back and forth between the two of them. “Which of you possesses the Seal of Arcole?”
“The Seal of what?” Charlotte asked.
Micah reached into a pocket and produced the golden seal Kyba had given him the night before. The angel smiled, her perfect mouth widening with sincere joy.
“Blessed are you, Micah. For you have received the will of Lord Kyba of Canis, one who served God. He was great among men, and so shall you be also. As was promised, you will receive the first inheritance of the new age.”
Charlotte looked at him happily, but he frowned.
Despite his silence, Arabella seemed to sense the inexplicable frustration in his heart. “Be at peace, Micah. Your life is not without purpose.”
“Forgive me,” he replied. “But I heavily doubt your words. Not because I distrust you, but because I distrust myself.”
“It is because you cannot see the path laid out for you. A shadow clouds your mind and heart, but not without cause. Tell me, how many souls have you put to death since you awoke from the Black Sleep?”
The sudden and direct question caused Charlotte to gasp. But the angel gazed at him with such calm ease, Micah found he wasn’t uncomfortable, and he answered honestly.
“One thousand eight hundred and twenty seven.”
And how many of those were killed by your hands after the seal on your heart was broken?”
“Three.”
“Very well. As reprisal for the lives you have taken, you are tasked with helping one thousand eight hundred and twenty four people. And before you die, you must save three lives. When you have completed this great task, only then will the shadow dissipate and destiny be revealed to your heart. But take courage, for you have been chosen as one of the Nine, and Heaven bestows its favor on you.”
“The Nine?” Charlotte repeated. “What is that?”
Arabella reached out and touched Micah’s right hand. A fierce burning enveloped his whole arm, and he jerked it away.
“Micah, are you okay?” Charlotte asked in alarm. She turned to Arabella. “What did you do to him?”
The searing flame concentrated into the back of his hand, and he ripped his glove off. Still smoldering, a charred number “9” had been burned into the skin. The angel held out her hand again. Instinct told Micah to keep it away, but something about her ever-calm demeanor betrayed the impulse. He gave his hand back, and she took it, stroking her soft fingers over the wound. The throbbing alleviated immediately, and the burned skin faded away into a deep, painless scar.
“You are Nine, Black Glorious. From this day forward, you bear the power of Nine, and you and your descendants are charged with protecting Carnel in this new age.” She looked aside. “John Halifax, step forward.”
Trembling, John shuffled up beside Micah while Cal remained behind. “Yes… ma’am?” he managed.
Arabella raised an arm above her head, and the angel with black wings flew down to Kyba’s monument and grasped the handle of the sword still embedded in the ivory. Wrenching it free, he floated down and offered it to her. Arabella took it, laying it across the flat of her hands. The sword was truly magnificent. Slender etchings carved into the blade formed black clouds, and the handle was carved from a deep emerald stone. Micah noticed with interest that the angels’ wings churned with surging new energy when they touched the weapon. And they handled it with care and dignity, as if they still respected the power within even though its wielder was dead.
Arabella offered the sword up to Kyba’s apprentice. “Take hold of the legendary sword called Thresh.”
John tentatively reached out both hands, lifting the sword up out of hers.
Arabella’s wings returned to their former crimson radiance. “You will take Lord Kyba’s sword to your king and proclaim this message: ‘God dwells in Carnel and seeks to bless its people. The descendants of Tanaerum must continue to protect Carnel and guard the Avernus Gate, as those after him have done until this very day according to the ancient promise. The Age of Angels is over. The Age of the Nine begins.’ When your king sees the sword, he will know the truth of your words.”
John bowed low. “It will be done.”
She looked back at Micah and Charlotte, and a sweet laugh escaped her lips. “Still so much fear in your hearts. Why do you worry so? Today is a day of great joy.”
“Forgive us, Arabella,” Charlotte said, taking Micah’s hand. “But we have had little to celebrate for so long. And the road we are to travel is still frightening. I finally found some measure of peace with Kyba, but he was taken from us in the blink of an eye.”
“Lord Kyba did not leave you without aid. In his house, you will find everything you need to cross the Strait of the Final Word, including detailed instructions. But more important, you have each other. Find rest in your bond and leave the rest on the shoulders of faith.”
She began to ascend, along with her heavenly compatriots. Charlotte squeezed Micah’s hand and drew closer to him, and they watched until the angels disappeared behind the dark clouds. The light relinquished, but still they watched. Micah wondered if he had been dreaming and just woken up, for the events that transpired seemed too unreal. But seeing Charlotte’s face and the ivory gravestone, he knew it all had really happened. He raised his hand. The number 9 stretched across it, pulsing with an indescribable fire.
He looked back up into the sky. For the first time in his life, Micah felt the touch of destiny, and it pressed him deep, even to the recesses of his very soul.
* * *
Osiris opened his eyes.
From his rocky perch, the barren valleys of East Carnel stretched before him. Sand dunes and rock piles a thousand fold, scattered farther than even his eyes could see. A single river ventured a perilous path through the desert, and a whisper of a wind carried past the boulder on which he sat, steeped in bitter confirmation of what he just felt. In his meditation, he had captured it. A sensation… a feeling he once presumed would never find him.
“So…” he said. “You finally taste death after all these years.”
He closed his eyes and resumed his meditation.
“What did you say?” Vash asked.
Osiris turned his head. “Nothing of consequence.”
He frowned. “Let’s head out. I want to reach the strait tonight. I still have not received word from Marshall Kalem, which means he’s probably dead. We cannot let the Moon Eye Child escape Carnel.” He turned and started down the rocky path leading to the Hawkeye River’s bank.
After a moment, Osiris stood, making to follow. But then he stopped and looked south. Vivid memories flashed before his eyes. Days of training and learning from the mightiest warrior to ever live. From the wizard called Kyba of Canis.
He smirked.
Those days were long gone.