Page 461 of Of Empires and Dust

Efialtír reached out a hand and grasped Fane’s shoulder. “I have searched an endless sea of souls to find you. You are singular. And together, we will rid this world of those who call themselves gods. Let them come. Let us finish this war they started so long ago.”

Kallinvar letout his breaths slowly, his knees pressing into the soft earth, his hands hanging at his sides.

“It is over, Kallinvar,” Tarron said, walking past the trembling Watchers and priests. “You have lost. Your god has abandoned you.”

Kallinvar stared back at his old friend. He knew the voice that spoke was not Tarron’s. This was the voice of a demon, a Vitharnmír, a Chosen. How? He did not know, but it didn’t matter.

“Pain is the path to strength,” Kallinvar said as he lifted one foot up.

“The duty of the strong is to protect the weak.” Kallinvar placed his hands on his knee and hauled himself upright.

“Pretty words,” Tarron spat, staring at Kallinvar. “But you have still lost. The Saviour has crossed the veil. This world is his domain once more. It is over, slave of Achyron.”

Kallinvar stared past Tarron at the Watchers and priests, who looked back at him with pure terror in their eyes.

“It is never over.” Kallinvar ignited his Soulblade, green light blazing. “And I will never yield. Not while there is air in my lungs and blood in my veins. Heraya embrace you, brother. I will save your soul.”

“Heraya will burn!” Tarron roared.

“You first.” Kallinvar charged forwards. The two Vitharnmír who stood between him and Tarron bounded forwards. He slid between them both, Soulblades crashing together in flashes of green and red light.

One blade sliced across his breastplate, the other scoring his helmet. He twisted, releasing his Soulblade as he had seen Arden do so many times, then reignited it with his hand pressed to one of the Vitharnmír’s chests. The creature howled and shrieked, its runes blazing as it fell to the ground.

Kallinvar ripped his Soulblade free and pushed the second Vitharnmír backwards. Tarron smashed into his side, causing Kallinvar to stagger. When he caught his footing, Tarron and the Vitharnmír stood facing him, each walking in a circle about him, one on the left, one on the right.

The Soulblade in Tarron’s fist flickered from red to green, its light weak and crackling.

A heartbeat passed, and both of them fell upon Kallinvar, blades slicing through the air.

He turned away blow after blow until a crimson blade plunged into his thigh, then ripped free. He staggered backwards, Tarron and the Vitharnmír stalking him like wolves.

Bursts of light erupted as their blades collided, again and again, each time pushing Kallinvar back further, each time getting closer to a killing blow.

I will find you in the void, Verathin. At least if we are to drift, we will drift together, old friend.

Kallinvar turned away a swing of Tarron’s blade, only to have the Vitharnmír’s carve clean through the plate on his chest and into the flesh beneath.

I had always thought that when we were to die, we would do so side by side, as brothers, in the fire of battle. But I will find you in death, as you found me.

He turned away three more blows before a fourth scored his ribs, slicing through his plate.

Kallinvar opened his Sigil to Ruon’s, feeling the fear in her heart, the rage in her soul, as she fought.

I love you. I have always loved you. And I will love you until the breaking of time. You are the beating of my heart. You are my goodness and my light. You are my eternity, my constant. I’m sorry I waited so long.

Two more strikes came down over Kallinvar’s head. He raised his Soulblade and took the full weight of both but collapsed backwards onto his knee from the force.

As Tarron struck down with his Soulblade, a blazing fire ignited in Kallinvar’s Sigil and Achyron’s voice boomed in his mind.

“Rise, Kallinvar, Champion of Achyron. You will never stand alone! Be my herald in this world, my avatar. Be my strength. I will not stand by any longer.”

The chamber illuminated with a brilliant green light that shone from Kallinvar’s left hand, and a glistening green shield burst into existence, catching the killing blow of Tarron’s flickering Soulblade.

All pain fled Kallinvar’s body as he felt Achyron surging through him. He hauled himself to his feet, sword and shield in hand.

“The duty of the strong is to protect the weak,”Achyron’s voice boomed.“You are a paragon of those words.”

Kallinvar caught Tarron’s blade on his Soulshield, then drove his blade through Tarron’s arm.

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