Grey Fate 8

The final shockwave erupted from Agrona, tossing Sylvie away as if she was a dry fall leaf. The force of the wave crashed out along the threads of Fate connecting Agrona to the world, and my mind was ripped out of the cave along with it.

I saw the Beast Glades beneath a rippling portal in the sky. Devices of obvious Alacryan design surrounded the rift, cutting it off from the world and hammering it with waves of disruptive force. Dozens of Wraiths floated in the air within the shield that protected them from the small army of dragons outside.

The shockwave rolled along the golden threads until it struck the Wraiths and Instillers like a physical blow. Like insects in a hurricane, they were swatted from the air.

When the first Wraith crashed into one of the shield generating artifacts, sparks flew from the device and the shield began to flicker. Then a second, third, and fourth Wraith landed among the fragile equipment, and an explosion rocked the Alacryan fortification. Starting first at a single point, the shield surrounding them began to collapse inward. The hole grew wider and wider until it was larger than the shield itself, and then the shield was gone.

The dragons hovered on the edges, staring in shock. Charon, floating at the front in his scarred dragon form, gave a bellowing shout, and the dragons descended on the prone Alacryans.

At the same time, across the continent, another shockwave struck hundreds of imprisoned Alacryans. Screams erupted in their cells, echoing out through the underground city. Backs arched as people threw themselves on the ground, clawing at spellforms and cores. I saw among them Corbett Denoir and the warrior Arian, Caera’s protector, but also the young Highblood from Xyrus, Augustine Ramseyer, and many others I was familiar with.

I saw as Seth Milview and Mayla from Maerin town clung to each other, their faces twisted with pain and fear as they shook against the impact. Seris, Lyra Dreide, and Caera moved among them, seeming to be the only three of all the Alacryans not crippled with the colliding force of changing Fate.

Elsewhere, I rode the shockwave as it sped over Etistin. It found Scythe Melzri as she searched through the carnage of a horrible frozen battlefield. The Scythe bent down to check for signs of life from a pale-skinned woman with short white hair—the retainer, Mawar. Lance Varay lay nearby, stirring slightly. Melzri regarded her warily, then drew a blade just as the shockwave reached her, lifting her off the ground before dashing her through a field of ice spikes.

More threads connected across the wide ocean to Alacrya. There, my understanding of what was happening began to break down as the effects of the blast were too widespread for my tired mind to track it all at once.

Instead, whether by some thought of my own or some trick of the reverberating Fate, I focused on Taegrin Caelum, Agrona’s distant mountain fortress. Many Fate threads connected to points throughout the fortress, and such was the strength of the shockwave as it slammed against the stone walls that the mountain shook and the stone began to crack. A high tower burst apart at the base, sending down an avalanche of shattered stone to crash among the lower levels, the roof of the tower sinking into the imploding base in a cloud of dust.

In the distance, far behind Taegrin Caelum, a geyser of bright orange lava erupted from the caldera of Mount Nishan. Black smoke boiled out to cover the Basilisk Fang Mountains in an impenetrable black cloud, and the ground trembled.

As if in one voice, the entire magical population of the continent screamed out together, and then I was back in Sylvia’s cave, lying in the shallow, mostly empty pool beside Tessia.

The aspect of Fate no longer lingered just behind and above me. It was gone, and my vision of the threads of Fate connecting us all was gone with it.