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Chapter 33

Asterion took a deep breath, the stale air filling his lungs. Air? The warrior opened his eyes ever tentatively in disbelief, how was he alive? Mere moments before he had been staring down the largest explosion that he'd ever seen, strong enough to obliterate anything that stood before it; rock, stone and steel had done nothing in it's ever hungry devastation, how was it that he, a flesh and blood creation was standing here to think this over?

His ears were ringing, his heart beat faster as the sight before him was just as strange. He found himself within an enclosed space of shimmering, translucent magical barrier. It's surface flickered and pulsed with power, leaving the street he now stood on unmarred by the devastation beyond it. There he could see the frozen aftermath of the uniter's destruction, nothing left of Struport than a crater deeper and longer than he'd ever seen, it could have gone on for miles. There were remains of buildings to be sure, but they were nothing more than loose fragments, frozen as they floated upon the air. The sky fared no better, cracks had splintered across it's surface, leaving tendrils of magical, turquoise light exposed, a sight no mere mortal had ever seen, the weave itself, what allowed magic to even function.

By his side was none other than Feku and her made Azzik, the male trying his best to cease the mournful cries of his beloved. The bard had dropped to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably, her scales the deepest of blues.

"They all dead, every one!" Feku whimpered, clutching tight her chest. "Arcturus, Axton, red and teal dragons, and Tenzin!"

Azzik trembled, fairing no better. His head drooped as he held her close for comfort, words seemingly failed him.

Asterion snorted, determined to get to the bottom of this mystery. The kobolds surely could not be capable of such a feat, they had magic for certain, but not this powerful. In fact, he knew of no being that could be responsible for such a feat. Only one came to him, the mage that Nivra had spoke of. Meddling, all powerful, of course he could not let them die, join the halls of Valhalla. With a furrowed brow he whirled around, setting his steeled gaze onto none other than the blue robed magician himself, Florimel.

"It's you." He growled, lashing his tail. "You're responsible for this."

"For protecting us from the uniter's explosion?" He said softly, "Clever plan by Lyndis and her cohorts, really put an end to Tiamat's plans...I however didn't expect it to end like this...It's all my fault."

"All your fault?" He searched the unassuming man; it was hard to believe that he wielded such grand power. Anyone else might have been tempered or been submissive to such a figure, but not a cleric of the god of battle. Asterion met him with the same resolve as anyone else, "Speak mage, how was this all your fault?"

Florimel strode past him in a daze, acting as though the warrior were nothing more than a fleeting thing. "We'd wanted a grand story, one of good against evil, who would end up victorious in the end. Parts were put into motion, maneuvered into place, no interfering." Gnarled hands rested against the magical field, where power crackled and gathered at his fingertips. With a heavy sigh he held his head, "So ends the fourth age of this realm, the end of the Emperor. From this a new age will come, all remembering the final victory of Arcturus Lund, The dragon Veledar, Lynalla Kuxion, Cordenth, Infinity, Lyyreth..."

Feku broke down into deeper sobs with every name of those she cared for. Her lamentations were needles to bull's skin, twisting and turning him to action. A fire in his chest he was right by the tired mage, eyes blazing with strength of the sun, "Why have you saved us Storyteller? To praise the ground in which you walk, to bear witness to your power? Your people played this game with mine long ago." He snorted with a smirk, "We did away with you."

"No, of course not." His voice was cracked, nothing more than a defeated man. "I wanted you to tell a story, each of you. No one survived to speak of this, it's fitting that a bard and her friends are here to spread the legend of your friends."

"You can fix!" The bard leaped up, right out of Azzik's grasp. She tugged at Florimel's sleeve, tears streaming down her cheeks, "You can wave away, bring friends back!"

"We could once. Long ago, but now? Now that is beyond my power. It isn't how I wished it, but that is how the dice fell."

Asterion crossed his arms, "This saga of yours must end with the entire city we fought to protect being reduced to nothing but a smoking crater? That is the tale that our friends and allies had to die for?" With eyes sharper than a sword he snorted, surely this mage could tell the story that he wanted, what need did he have for them? "I think you want something else."

Stroking his beard, Florimel turned away, leaving the bull and kobolds to watch as he traversed the edge of his barrier. With every step he muttered to himself, insisting whatever scheme was going through his head was madness. He did this several times before Azzik's question brought him to a stop.

"Are you going to help us sir?" The kobold asked innocently, his scales still covered in the dust from the city. Such hope rested in his gaze, a strength many would like to possess, "Please."

"That would be nuts, absolutely nuts, we were not supposed to interfere."

"And yet here we are drawing breath." Growled Asterion, "When we could be dead just like everyone else. You're more than capable of telling a tale yourself."

"You'd think that of course." Florimel sighed, a bolt of magical lightning striking beyond the barrier lightning his tired face, "But after all this? The suffering? I don't think I could manage."

Of all the things to say, Asterion stomped his way to mere inches from this god, "Do you expect sympathy for you old man? That I should weep for the burden that you hold? You stand by and do nothing, watching as the world plays out for you like some children's game. My allies were slaughtered without a fight, obliterated like mere pests. There is nothing to speak highly of here mage, nor will I sully their memory by uttering it. I will not shoulder the burden of a being who did nothing to lift a finger when they had the power to do so." He let his snort ruffle the old man's hair, "For a being like that is without honor, undeserving my respect."

"Oh please, you think I care about what you think is honorable?" Florimel scoffed, padding away, "You would let those you fought beside be forgotten to time? Fade away into nothing?"

"Better than letting them be remembered in such a manner." He searched to Azzik and Feku, soaking in the fragile hope they exuded on their snouts, that Florimel would change his mind. "You want something to be spoken of? Have a story worthy of song, then cast off your shackles and help us, undo this treachery."

Florimel paused, stroking his beard, casting his sight towards the fragmented countryside. "Now _that_would be mad wouldn't it."

What bravery he possessed was infectious, stirring Feku to stomp her way to the cleric's side. Wiping the final tear from her eye she stood resolute, resembling Asterion himself. "I won't tell neither." She declared with a growl and stomp of her foot. "Go get mounted old guy...As red dragon would say."

Her unease showed as she cocked her head to Asterion for validation. Asterion gave her a knowing nod and a heavy snort, "You heard the little one. No story." It was almost worth it to see the look of bewilderment on the old mage's face, that anyone should say no to him never occurred.

"But he's a storyteller!" Azzik snapped to their side, tugging on Feku and Asterion's arms. His voice shook, "You know what they can do!"

"Old man have way to help." Feku replied with a sniff, "If choice is live without friend or die with them, I choose die." Her arms folded, "I no help pick up other mess."

"Well, you heard her." Asterion snarled, "We refuse to spread this story of yours."

The god's cheeks reddened at their demand, bewilderment dancing across his gaze. His hands shot up, "I could make all of you do it! Snap of my fingers and you'd be compelled to obey! You think I wanted this, to have everything obliterated in the blink of an eye?" Electricity crackled from his eyes, lancing out to strike against his shield.

"Then do it you coward." The cleric rested a firm hand on the kobold's shoulders. This could be it, the final gamble, staring down a god, "Make good on your threats, don't waste our time with any false empathy you might have, we will not do your bidding willingly."

"Us too!" Feku thumped her chest, holding Azzik tight.

To that, Florimel grabbed the bridge of his nose, heaving a heavy sigh, "Of all the beings I could have picked to tell this, of course it had to one as infuriating as a minion of Korde! You're aware you're just as pigheaded and stubborn as he is!"

Asterion grinned, "I'll take that as a compliment."

Silence fell as the god began to tug his beard, shifting from staring out to the world beyond and mumbling to himself. For a minute or two he sat, the tension building as the mortals dared not say a further word. Finally, he spoke, soft, "Do you know what this would do if I help you? It would upset everything."

"But it would not be sad." Feku whimpered, "You have happy ending instead."

He groaned, shaking his head, unwilling to look the kobold in the eye. It was like he knew she was right, "Even if I didn't care about the rules and wanted to help, I couldn't do so anyway. My people gave up the pursuits of the divine millennia ago, we left that to the gods. I can make everything the way it was, but I have no power to return their souls. We would need someone who can manipulate souls in such a manner, a cleric."

Was that all? Asterion didn't even miss a beat, swelling his chest, "I have done what you ask."

"Of course, you have." Florimel sighed. "Why couldn't it be the sweet little kobold?"

"You can try to lie mage, but I think this was the reason you saved us. Even if you didn't want to admit it."

Blunt like his mace, but it had the intended effect, it gave pause the god that heard it. Florimel began tapping his beard, searching the broken sky, muttering to himself if he was truly going to do it. The bull smirked, counting himself the victor.

"Well?"

"I'm thinking, I'm thinking. The question is if they'd buy it."

"Who's they?"

He dismissed him with a wave, "It doesn't matter. I think...I think we can do it...No...maybe?"

So, he had peers or those he answered to, it made the bull chuckle deep in his throat, "Starting to come around mage? Not so cowardly as you appear?"

When the mage turned, his glare could kill, "Asterion, what this would entail is so beyond your scope that it's laughable. It could upend the delicate balance we've had since this world's creation! Who knows what will happen!"

"I imagine many more stories."

"Oooo, I like stories!" Feku rumbled, "Will we be in them?"

Florimel took a composing breath, "You'd have to hold all the souls out there minotaur. Human, gryphon, elf, wolven and even dragon. Yes, I know they usually can't be returned, call this a bit of cheating." He groaned, "Hades is going to hate this."

"I am up to any challenge. Name it and I will meet it." Asterion ran his fingers over his belt, "I am not afraid."

"You should be, it will require a tremendous deal of strength. You'd have the willpower to face down a god, do you think you could do this?"

"Am I not looking at one now? I care not about the pain; I relish the challenge."

His face darkened, "I won't hide this from you Asterion. What I will enchant you with, your body will break regardless of what happens. Your kind was not made for such things. Your very soul will feel as though it's been set ablaze."

The kobolds gasped at the price, but Asterion was not surprised. Many great deeds throughout his people's history had only been achieved through great sacrifice. Beyond the shimmering field he saw the devastated countryside, picturing all those souls so swiftly dispatched, without honor. The warrior clenched his fists, knowing his own people would not make it to Valhalla, there was no honor in how they'd died. He had no choice. Asterion held his head high, no doubt or fear about him, he had to try.

"I accept your terms storyteller. I will not fail my allies."

"For your sake and theirs...I hope that is so." Florimel said, "If you need a moment to prepare, we can wait as long as you need."

"Need for what? I'm ready now, I will meet my end in a glorious fashion." He smirked, "Matching wills against the gods, my life forfeit, possibly my soul at risk, I could think of no more _thrilling_challenge."

It was Feku that did not share his excitement, tears rolled down her cheeks as she shouted out, "Asterion you can't! You will die! No more dying, you can't! Not you too! You helped get Azzik back."

She collapsed at his hooves, sobbing uncontrollably, Azzik right beside her. The warrior knelt to her, resting a hand on her shoulder as if she were his daughter. When he spoke it was stern, trying to be her strength, he had to make her understand. When she looked at him, his heart throbbed, he swallowed that down. "I must do this you two. There is no option for me."

"There is always option, you can say no!" Feku pleaded, tugging tightly at his arm, her knuckles white, "He lying, he can help, we make him do it!" When she snapped to Florimel the mage gave her an empathetic look.

"He is giving us this chance." Asterion softly grabbed her snout, guiding it to look him in the eye, "You saw what that weapon did, how it destroyed all we fought to defend. My kind, we must die in battle or face off against some great foe, to be swept away like vermin is a terrible dishonor in the eyes of Korde.

"Your god sound stupid then!" She cried. "Who does that?"

Anyone else he might have snapped at, perhaps struck them, but he held himself back. "I will gladly do what he says to even attempt to undo the dishonor that was done. Don't weep for me little ones, you will have many years ahead. I want to say thank you for helping me redeem myself. Feku, tell my story, tell the tale of when a cleric of Korde stood his ground in the face of the gods and brought back an entire city."

She leaped onto his chest, pulling him into the tightest of hugs. Trembling, her snout buried into his chest, nuzzling at the brown fur, "But what if you fail? Then you die for nothing!"

"I won't fail." He replied softly, rubbing her back, "I have too many lives counting on it." When Azzik came to join the hug, he didn't protest, merely offering the small cleric a pat on the head. He said his final goodbyes and stood, composing himself before turning to the storyteller, who had his back to them the entire time. "Do it mage, I am ready, what more do you require?"

"Are you certain?" Florimel asked in a hushed whisper. "There is no going back once it's done."

He nodded, "My goals have all been completed before me. I brought back my honor, faced down the largest battle of my time and survived. The Valkyries will sing my story for all time, especially when they get to the verse where I had the will of gods."

"You will need that attitude for what comes next my friend. For this is the easy part." He reached out and touched Asterion's hand.

It all happened in the blink of an eye, a transfer of intense magical might. It coursed through the bull's veins like a fire, spreading to every fiber of his being. It pulsed as if it was alive, determined to eat him from the inside out. Fingertips crackled with power, he felt stronger than ever, able to do whatever he set his mind to.

As the power surged, Asterion's senses were assaulted by a symphony of sensations. Colors danced before his eyes, vivid and vibrant, overwhelming his vision. The air crackled with electric energy, causing his skin to prickle and tingle. The world seemed to distort and warp, bending to the whims of his newfound might.

Yet, amidst the awe-inspiring spectacle, Asterion found himself caught in a battle against searing pain. The magic's potency was almost too much to bear. It felt as if his bones were being crushed under the weight of this immense power, and his mind throbbed with a relentless intensity.

The magical energy fought against Asterion's attempts to control and harness it. It rebelled against his will, surging in unpredictable bursts that sent waves of excruciating agony radiating through his body. It was a constant struggle to find balance and focus amidst the turmoil.

"How are you feeling?" Florimel asked.

His legs threatened to buckle, weighed down by eternity. Hairs stood on end as every breath came labored, a dragon sitting on his chest. Looking to his palms he could see minute cracks already starting to appear on his flesh, radiating the same magical might as the sky itself. It was a struggle to form the words at all, "How do I look mage?" He snarled.

"That you won't last for long." He frowned, turning to face the barrier, "Now focus on the souls as you did once before, it should be the same, except vastly larger."

He nodded, adopting the spell's stance, clutching his holy symbol of Korde, "What of diamonds or materials for the dead?"

"Do not worry about such trivial matters. I'll handle rebuilding the city, the people, just focus on the souls. _Keep_them here."

"And the dragons?"

"I imagine that will be strenuous to say the least. Good luck brave Minotaur, you're going to need it."

With a flick of his wrist, the protection that had shielded them from the Uniter's destruction was undone, time allowed to progress. Destructive energies that would have torn anything asunder were cast away as easily as a floating leaf. His hands thrummed with cosmic energies, lavender lightning exploding from his fingertips as he traced runes upon the air. Before them a god awoke, casting back what came.

Asterion closed his eyes, a prayer to Korde on his lips before he began to chant the words he'd burned to memory. Warmth spread into him, soothing aching muscles and bones. It allowed him to focus on the wayward lives caught between the afterlife and the living world. His voice carried a melody of reassurance and solace as he called out to the souls, urging them to listen, to follow his guiding light. As each of the countless dead made their connection, the weight upon him began to grow. What comfort he'd had was swiftly replaced by the reminder of his deal.

He cried out as pain thundered through him, threatening the proud warrior's legs to buckle and bring him down. Grunting, he resisted, muscles screaming as he continued to add more and more wayward souls onto his shoulders. He could not fail them, not anyone, more importantly himself. Asterion grit his teeth and bored down, there was no turning back. It mattered not as his flesh seemed to be tearing apart, his insides stabbed with knives, he couldn't fail.

With a deep breath, Florimel lifted his hands, palms emanating a pulsating glow of arcane might. The air crackled with anticipation as the wizard focused his power, tapping into the depths of the forces of creation itself. In a surge of ethereal brilliance, he released a torrent of magical energy into the depths of the crater. Waves of shimmering light cascaded downward, spiraling and swirling like an otherworldly tempest. The raw power searched for remnants of the lost, tethers that it could latch onto, drag what once was back.

As Florimel's magic coursed through the barren land, the crater began to respond. The earth trembled and quivered, hearing the great mage's plea. From the depths of the crater, sparks of life flickered, like flame seeking air.

What was once nothing more than lifeless rock, began to reform shapes and matter of what it had once been. This began to reassemble itself, drawn together by the magnetic pull of Florimel's powerful enchantment. Stones aligned, forming walls and foundations, beams of wood arched and interlocked, reconstructing the skeletal form of the city. With each passing moment, Struport rose from the depths of despair. The magician's magic breathed new life into the ruins, mending what had been broken. Structures that were once razed and disheveled now stood tall and proud, their once-vacant windows now shimmering with light.

The harbor, which was reduced to rubble, stirred with renewed vigor. The waves lapped against the reborn docks, as if whispering tales of resilience. Splintered planks reformed, extending their embrace to the sea once more. Amidst the transformation, the city streets began to take shape. Cobblestones, worn and shattered, pieced themselves back together, weaving a network of pathways that prayed for the return of its people. Lush greenery sprouted, painting the landscape with vibrant hues of green, gold and reds, nature determined to undo what damage was done.

As this transpired, Asterion suffered in silence, holding onto what he could. The bull had already collapsed to one knee, his senses all but obliterated, every second seemed to be an eternity of mind-numbing pain. Black teased at the edge of his vision, doubt flickered across his mind, was he not up to the task?

"Asterion!" Feku went to leap to his side but found herself held back by her mate.

"Don't touch him, who knows what will happen!" Azzik shouted, voice fraught with fear.

"Cleric!" Florimel shouted amidst the now howling winds around them, as a network of bone, blood, sinew, and other organs starting to stitch themselves together throughout the city. Desperation sang from his voice, color draining from his face, "You won't get a second chance at this!"

Of that he knew, he didn't need to be reminded of it. His head throbbed, blood pulsing, his ears were ringing. He swore if he listened, he could hear the words of his ancestors, those who had reached the world beyond beckoning him home. The cleric doubled over, gasping in agony, crimson rivers cascading down his muzzle. He had just enough control to hold out a hand, tell Feku to not come any further. "No!" The cleric sputtered, "This is my battle, nothing will keep me from victory!" With a lash of his tail, he tossed everything he had into this, even as his limbs screamed out he persisted to rise. Asterion reset his stance, clutching tight the symbol of Korde, threatening to dig it right through his flesh. "I will not be beaten!"

He continued to recite the words, pulling back what had slipped free of him. The weight returned to bear down on him, seeking to crush him into dust. All he had to do was last a few moments more, he just needed to hold on. He screamed as the cracks in his hands spread ever further, encroaching on his fur like a plague. Soon it was across his chest like a spiderweb, ever continuing to the rest of him. He blinked as it threatened to overtake him again, his strength starting to fade. He had nothing left to give.

Ears twitched as a soothing sound made it's way through the air, carrying with it an uplifting melody of untold power. It's magical grace filled the minotaur's muscles with strength, spurred him on, invigorating him to heights untold. It came from the careful hands of Feku, emerging at his side with violin in hand. As she played her soul to every note, tears streamed down her blue scales. Azzik soon joined her, claws pressed together, praying to the gods, and lending his strength as well. A soft glow of white transferred from his claws and to the bull.

With a roar, Asterion pushed himself further, the shining beacon in which these souls could cling. Thousands screamed, begged, wailed, thrashed in his divine grip, wishing to do nothing more than race to the heavens. Hooves refused to yield, flesh stood firm, Asterion held each and everyone of them in place. Again, the pain and heat came anew, blinding him like that of the sun.

"DO IT!" He cried out, as strands of ethereal light gathered around them, whirling about like an unbridled tempest.

"Almost there!" Florimel cried, hands nearly a blur as the final bits of life took shape. "Just a few moments more!"

From his pocket, the cleric dug through the assorted trinkets and coins, pulling from it a single thread of red hair. The lock that once belonged to his friend, rival, and companion, Merlia. He couldn't see, but he held it aloft, she would not be a soul that was done in so cruelly, deprived of honor at the paws of a red scaled beast. He just hoped she answered the call, he knew how spirited she could be.

The strands of light burst forth at the spell's climax, shooting through the air like a school of fish. In moments they rose and fell, surging through rock and stone, searching for their fallen vessels. Asterion collapsed as his vision faded, hardly feeling the kiss of the stone as he struck the ground. Dimly he was aware of the kobold's crying over his broken form, their claws grabbing his thick fur.

"Asterion...You've done it." Florimel breathed softly, "I don't believe it."

"Believe it." He coughed, sparks of pain traveling down his spine. Weakness hounded at him, making any movement other than his shallow breaths impossible.

"You did it, you did it." Feku's voice was growing distant as she placed her head on his, squeezing his chest tight, "You did it."

"Was it a good story?"

"I make sure everyone knows." She sobbed. "Cleric stronger than gods."

Asterion, cleric of Korde, gave his last breath with a satisfied smile across his face.

* * * * * * * *

Thank you for all following along in this journey. I hope that I didn't scare you so bad in the last part. We are almost at the end now, a few more chapters before the story is finished. It's been amazing few years and it's hard to almost think that it's over. Thank you all for comments. :D

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