Page 111 of A Rising Hope

Elves. Destroyers. It didn’t matter to me. A piece of Tuluma’s heart beat in both of us.

“I wish I could pause time,” I spoke the quiet thoughts out loud, a part of me craving that this serene moment would lastforever. “No more war, no more fighting, only the peace and comfort of your heartbeat. Just you and me. Forever.”

“We don’t have to pause time for that. We could still run away. Take the dragons, find some island and live out our days until we are ready to ascend to our godhoods.”

“You truly think you could walk away from all of this?”

“I found the only person I care about, everything else has no meaning or value to me. So if it causes you more harm than good, then fuck the title and the crown, let’s leave right this moment.”

“You make it sound so tempting.” I chewed on my lip, shamefully considering his offer because I was exhausted. My soul, my body, my mind, all so weary.

Only now, only near him, I let my guard down, let my weakness show, no longer hiding behind the brave façade.

“Zora and Orest could handle it, thrown in Xentar and they’d make this place a paradise.” His chest rumbled, but mine froze as reality weaseled its way back.

“Gideon . . . Zora, she?—”

“I know.” His voice shifted somberly. “Orest spoke with me before his journey back.”

A lingering silence muddied the quiet peace we had carved out for ourselves.

A new day had started, the future was ready to unfold.

We watched the first groups of workers march towards the distant golden wheat fields; their scythes heavy on their shoulders.

Suddenly a forgotten question occurred to me. “What was your end of the bargain with the Soul Eater?”

“Death.”

“What?”

“He recognized me for what I am—a cursed child, the Lord of Death and God of Triumph, and he asked me for death inexchange for keeping your soul tethered on this side of the veil.” We watched from the hill far down in the valleys as horses trailed along an old pathway, carrying empty buggies that were ready to be filled with harvest. “If you were a god, which I had a strong inclination to believe so, then upon your death you’d be summoned to serve, called upon by your duties to answer the cries of those calling your name. There wouldn’t be a white picket fence for you, nor the children you’ve dreamed of, nor a joyous, memorable mortal life. So, I had to ensure that if you faced such grim a reality, you would be able to come back. Granted, that was before I knew of Diamara’s bargain.”

“So you are going to submit him to death?” I wasn’t sure why, but a part of me felt sad. Gideon recognized the slight shift in my voice.

“Forced immortality only sounds great to those who don’t have it. But it’s a curse to see those around you die year after year, to see the world change and dwindle into nothingness replaced by new races and generations. He was cursed by Fate to never feel Death’s touch. And that is the only thing he craves. As the Lord of Death, and God of Triumph, I can arrange such a meeting. Considering he kept his end of the bargain, I am inclined to keep mine.”

The bright round sun illuminated the sky, no longer hiding behind the thin strip of horizon and light reclaimed its power over darkness once again.

66

GIDEON

The air in the cramped old cellar was musty, old mildew covered the aged brick. I summoned a small orb of fire illuminating my path as I walked in the darkness towards the sealed dugout area.

I ground my teeth, making my way further on the uneven path without my cane. My steps were slow, loud, my hip still healing, causing me to drag my leg in an unnatural motion.

The bright light illuminated the iron door ahead, welded shut except for a small opening at the top.

I inhaled a long heavy breath of the stale air. A single blink and the metal door was incinerated, the small shift of powers taking a sudden toll on my body. I reached for the wall to steady myself, scowling at my lingering weakness after enduring so many deaths.

The molten metal settled, hinges of the doors shining crimson red against the darkness.

Zora sat on the ground, unbothered, her nails mindlessly digging into the ground next to her. Her head leaned back against the dirt wall, hair matted, eyes dull. Whether she wassurprised or shocked to see me, I couldn’t tell. She gave me an empty look before she stared back into the nothingness.

“Are we both dead? Or am I seeing the dead now?” she asked after a moment, her voice aching with pain and sharp sorrow.

“Very much alive.” I took a seat on the dirt floor near her, groaning as I lowered my aching body. She glanced over the empty space where the iron door had been only a second prior, then returned her dismal stare to me.

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