Page 207 of The Last One
A moth with black, gold, and red wings flits around me. I hold out my bloody finger, and the moth lands. I smile at her and whisper, “Hello.”
The moth leaves my finger, and I watch her flutter away, disappearing into the wasteland around me. The only green is the dying tree whose branches hide me from elements that killed the creatures whose skeletons now scar these badlands.
The daystar barely peeks over the horizon in the east, and the already-red sky brightens to scarlet while the volcanic land warms beneath it. That light rushes through my blood, buzzes through me, and pushes past my armor, from my cloak and breeches to my gloves and boots. My amulet—a jewel-encrusted moth—hangs from my neck and shines as though it’s on fire. Like it holds the very essence of my life.
Where am I?
A dying realm with dying trees, dying animals, and dying hope.
Why am I here?
My mind flickers with images of…
A sea of acid.
A mountain soaring past the clouds.
A woman with white hair.
“Vallendor Realm,” I whisper, my eyes closed.
The Weapon.
The blacksmith.
The Destroyer of Worlds.
I open my eyes and stare at the dying leaves rustling above me.
I am the Destroyer of Worlds.
Yes. I remember…
I remembereverything.
The love doesn’t end here…
