Bastet was blinded by the bright flash of light. It felt as if a molten piece of metal was buried deep in the center of his chest. His muscles spasmed and he fell down groaning, but he was unable to hear himself since the roaring of thunder that struck him left his ears buzzing. Luckily, the pain flared through him as quickly as it arrived. As his muscles stopped cramping, he took in a deep breath, but he could only smell the wet soil that his nose was dug into. The faint wind cooled his sweaty body, and with trembling elbows, he managed to push his torso up. Slowly, his hearing started to return.
-"Take him with you." – Kreil said in a somber voice – "It doesn't matter whose body you use to take Lily outside."
-"It does matter, this body is strong." – Miara gripped her biceps before pointing to Bastet – "He is weak and frail, and now even wounded. If push comes to shove, I won't be able to fight in it."
-"Just take him." – Kreil kneeled by his daughter and stroked her hair – "It's a bet we must make."
Bastet's eyes sent a throb through his head every time he moved them. It was as if they were scraping against his skull. His throat was dry, but he managed to cough out a few words – "Let… Let me go with you!" – He couldn't make sense out of their conversation. All he could do is plead, and he was not the kind of man to be ashamed of doing so. There were more important things to worry about, things he had to accomplish.
But Miara remained silent, arms crossed, and her lips curled down. – "Are you sure you want to do this, historian? Chances are, he's completely unrelated."
-"You said it yourself, Miara. If Lily truly is the harbinger, then this is outside the realm of chance." – he shook his head – "The hand of fate took her here, and now it brings him to her."
-"He is the one we were waiting for?" – Miara raised her eyebrow and hesitated – "I don't know, historian. I expected it all to be so… different."
-"Despite everything we did, Lily was captured. Didn't we agree that if anything happened to her, it could only be the result of a miracle? And don't you find it strange, Miara, how unavoidably it all transpired, including this very moment?" – Kreil glanced at Bastet – "There's no way the Wesians haven't heard you fighting. Someone has to make a diversion to buy some time, or they'll all come flocking here and find us. There's nobody but me to do it, so that leaves you one spot open. A spot for him. Just how many times does the impossible need to occur for you to admit it isn't an accident?"
-"But that's not enough to prove..."
-"Well it's the only damn proof we get" – Kreil raised his voice and furrowed his brows – "Take him with you."
Kreil pinched his daughter's cheek and pressed his lips on her forehead. He planned for a short goodbye as they were running out of time, but as soon as he touched her skin, he found himself so reluctant to let go. If only fate had been kinder to them, perhaps she could have been just a regular girl, and he, a good father. But he had to fail her. – "I'm sorry, Lily" – a tear rolled down his cheek – "Stay strong." – words were stuck in his throat, but he forced himself to speak despite the fact that Lilian was not awake to hear him. He prayed for her fortune, reciting every charm he could think of, just in case there was still something up there that could hear him.
-"Take care of her." – Kreil turned to Bastet – "Promise me you will."
-"I promise." – Bastet nodded.
-"She's a bit stubborn, put up with it. She wakes up early and gets hungry fast. She's a child at heart, and is in love with the world."
-"Got it."
-"Don't tell her about me. It isn't time for her to know." – Kreil turned his back before reluctantly saying – "And when she finds out the truth one day, the whole truth, please be there to tell her I'm sorry. Despite how deplorable it may seem."
-"Historian! That's enough!" – Miara growled out.
-"Come on, Miara, you know I don't like it when you call me that." – He smiled – "At least call me an artist, one last time."
Miara deeply sighed and closed her eyes. – "Only one request at a time, Historian." – She approached Bastet and helped him get up on his feet – "I'll take him."
Kreil curled his lips into a half smile and lightly chuckled as he waved his hand – "So be it, demon. This is farewell." – He stopped to take one last look at Lilian, before shifting his gaze forward. He ran east. If he took even a glance back, he felt that he would be overwhelmed by the desire to stay.
-"Kreil!" – Bastet raised his voice – "Thank you."
***
The distant light from the bonfire was smothered by the expanding night. It was tragic, Kreil thought, how when nothing fought against it, the darkness would always come naturally. The faint wind brushed against the river's surface and with soft waves it whirled, shattering the moon's glistening reflection. Carving his way through the thick grass, he ran to the bridge. He had to be far away from them if this was to work. Otherwise, he'd be putting them in even greater danger. He was scared, but that was okay. He was upset, but that didn't matter. All he had to do was move his legs fast enough to not have time to think. He finally ran into someone. His heart was beating fast, and he was drenched in sweat.
-"Who goes there?!" – The Wesian asked while gripping the handle of his weapon.
This was it. It was time for him to give his life up. Would that be in the best interest of Wesians? How laughable. Lily was the harbinger; her escape was in the best interest of the whole world. He looked down and lightly shivered. Tonight, he was afraid of the hollow figure that the moonlight stretched from under his feet. Ever faceless and empty, he felt like his shadow was gazing back at him. When you die and lose what you are, what happens to you? It was terrifying to think about it. If tomorrow his daughter looked up at the sky and said that her father doesn't love her, would he still love her from somewhere to be proving her words wrong? Was love not supposed to be forever? He bit his tongue and gripped his thighs.
Kreil popped the wooden plug off the leather flask, and brought it to his mouth. He knew the secret of how infantry turned into those unstoppable monsters. Ariadne's blood made you use up all of your life force at once, to the point of drying it up and dying as a result. It would hurt so much that he would lose his mind, so there would be nothing left for Ariadne's curse to bind. This was it. He closed his eyes and gulped down the liquid His teeth were clattering, and his knees shook, but his expression quickly warped into a pained grimace. A dark veil fell over his mind as he shouted, and with the last bits of his being, he apologized to his daughter one final time.
A mighty roar burst out and parted the ground beneath him, digging a shallow hole. The Wesian was blown away but managed to stop his body from slamming into the church behind him. – "What the…?!"
Another beastly roar escaped Kreil's mouth. He slammed the Wesian with the back of his hand which sent him flying at least fifty feet behind. He quickly ran up to the limp body, and grinning from ear to ear, he grabbed the Wesian's head and squeezed. Tighter and tighter, he increased the pressure on the skull until it burst.
-"We need backup!" – Kreil turned towards the panicked voice, and chased after it. He caught up in an instant, and before the woman could react, he grabbed her and slammed her against the ground, snapping her body in half. He threw what remained of her, and with a loud boom it crashed into the bridge and collapsed it. He was swarmed by more attackers as the city went on high alert. The ground suddenly parted and swallowed him whole, but the stone walls easily crumbled as he sliced them with his claws. Multiple fireballs flew at him, but he withstood the heat. With a bright flash, a single vein of lightning seared his flesh. He flung himself at the one who hurt him, but the Wesian dodged and swung his axe, sticking it deep in Kreil's shoulder. But it was not a problem. The closer to death that he got, the faster his life force would leak. It would only make him exert more power. Blood gushed out as he ripped the axe out and hurled it at the Wesian, ripping his body apart.
The sound of battle made more Wesians flock to the fray. But he prevailed. He caused chaos as he broke through their formation. He fought there too and was not bested. Not an ounce of reason remained in him, but he somehow knew that he must hang on and fight to the last breath. The flesh was missing from his right underarm, exposing a fractured bone. Very little hair was left on his body, and he was smeared in blood. He was surrounded by the enemy, but nobody dared to attack him. They would retreat when he got closer and slowly wear him down. Multiple swords were sticking from his back. But there would be no grand exit, nor any antagonist to take revenge on. As his life force was running out, he gradually slowed to a halt and released his final breath. And thus, Kreil the historian had lost his life.