Elrian stood at the heart of the Rift, heavy of breath as red stared out of his eyes. A weight of despair seemed to cling to every molecule in the atmosphere, and there was an unreal stillness-a quiet-as if even the world was waiting for something. He grasped the sacred artifact firmly, the edges burning his palm, and a constant reminder of his undertaken burdens. The world around him was warping, bending to the will of the Rift, but he would not turn back. He had come to put an end to it all.
Before him loomed a figure—a silhouette of darkness and light, a shape both familiar and monstrous. Kaldros.
The man Elrian once knew was gone. Kaldros had transcended the flesh, his body twisted and contorted, his eyes now pools of abyssal flame. No longer constrained by weakness of flesh, but something far darker. The Rift had claimed him, reshaped him into something that could not be called man, nor god.
"You have come to die, Elrian?" Kaldros' voice boomed within the Rift, unnatural in timbre, sending shivers down Elrian's spine. It was not a voice he recognized, but the words cut, venomous, aimed at his soul. "You carry that wretched artifact, but it will not save you. This world is already mine."
El'rian's chest tightened. A step forward, his gaze didn't budge. "This ends tonight. The Rift dies with you."
Kaldros laughed—a hollow, maddening sound that echoed through the void. "You think this is about power, El'rian? It's never been about power. It's about choice. It's always been about choice.
Elrian's grip tightened on the artifact. "No. It's about freedom. The freedom to live, to choose, to break the cycle. And that's something you'll never understand."
For a heartbeat, the only sound was oppressive quiet-a space for El'rian to relish his weight, purpose, and tempest tearing through his breast. It was if even the Rift wrapped itself in anticipation around them, listening for that very word.
"You still don't get it, do you? " Kaldros said, his dark figure closing the gap with each rippling wave. "What makes you human, Elrian? Is it your heart, your emotions? Your connection to others? Or is it your mind, your ability to reason, to impose order upon chaos? " He extended his hand, and the Rift shifted, the darkness pressing in on them. "I am beyond that. I am beyond choice.
I've transcended.
You're still clinging to the illusion of control."
Elrian's throat burned as he fought to speak. "I'll fight for what's left of my humanity, Kaldros. I'll fight for every last shred of it." His voice was ragged, raw with emotion.
Kaldros leaned his head to one side, his eyes alight with curiosity and contempt. "You still think you can save this world with your 'heart'? How quaint." His smile twisted into something cruel. "You've seen what this world has become. It was never worth saving. You, your father, Adria… none of you ever stood a chance.
Elrian's chest constricted, his mind flashing to Adria's face, to the promises he had made her. The woman who had been his anchor, his reason to fight. But now, as the Rift pulsed with death and decay, her face seemed to fade from his memory, replaced with the terrifying vision of Kaldros.
"You're wrong," Elrian spat, his breath ragged. "It was worth saving. You've already lost, Kaldros."
"Have I?" Kaldros raised his hands, and the Rift, responding to a will that dwarfed his own, twisted and turned around him. "You think this is simply about saving the world? Saving it from me? It's more. It's finally understanding what we have been all along."
The air thickened around him, and Elrian's vision blurred as the power of the Rift began to seep into his mind in its attempt to break him. The sacred artifact pulsed in his hand, but its light somehow dimmed in front of the pressure of Kaldros' will.
"Tell me, Elrian," Kaldros said, his voice now a whisper, the malice in it dripping, "do you think that you can defeat me, or are you no different from all the other puppets that dance upon the strings of fate, pretending your will truly matters?"
El'rian's knees buckled under the weight of his doubts. He could feel it, slipping, the Rift closing in around him, threatening to swallow him whole as every part of him screamed to give in, to let go, to surrender to the darkness which already had claimed Kaldros. But he couldn't. Not again. Not after everything.
"I. I won't let you win," Elrian gasped, calling upon every last ounce of strength within him.
Kaldros' eyes flared with an evil shine, and for one brief moment, Elrian saw in the reflection of those eyes the face of his father-strong, determined, unbending. "You think yourself stronger than I? Your heart is weak, Elrian. It will break. It will betray you."
But Elrian, his body trembling, clenched his fists tighter around the artifact. "No. You've already lost."
A deafening roar filled the Rift, and Kaldros lunged forward, his form a blur of shadows and flame. Elrian barely had time to react. The artifact in his hand flared with bright light as he raised it to defend himself. The force of their collision was nothing short of catastrophic, shaking the very foundations of the Rift.
Waves burst forth from around them, their fury and their agony. El'rian's form flew back and slammed into the jutting boulders along the face of the Rift, and his lips were flecked with blood, yet unbroken.
The Rift screamed.
There Kaldros stood over him-all-powerful, towering: "Is this-is this your spasm of power? This which halts me, what is fated not to be able to halt me: I am beyond your pointless struggle, your final good-bye."
El'rian coughed out, tints of blood trickling from his mouth. "You are wrong," he said, his voice trembling but firm. "This is where you end."
Giving one last, despairing cry, El'rian plunged the sacred artifact into the heart of the Rift and let its full power burst free. All was consumed in light: Kaldros, the Rift, even the world. For a moment, El'rian thought he was going to be torn asunder by the sheer force of the blast. The earth around him shattered, the sky cracked, and there was only silence that was not to be borne.
When the light faded, Elrian found himself on his knees, his body bruised and battered. The Rift was gone. Kaldros was gone. But there was a void-a terrible emptiness left behind in its wake.
The air was still, eerily quiet.
And then, from the depths of the silence, came a voice. Soft. Gentle.
"Kaelen…"
Elrian's heart stopped. His chest tightened painfully, and he looked around in a daze. "Father?"
Before him stood a figure, translucent but unmistakable: his father, Kaelen, standing in the void, his face proud yet sad.
"You've done it, Elrian. You've ended the cycle. You've freed us all."
Elrian's voice cracked. "I… I don't remember you… I don't remember anything.
Kaelen stepped closer, his hand reaching out. "It's alright. You don't need to. I'm proud of you, my son. You've chosen the path of your own heart. And that's all that matters."
As the figure of Kaelen began to fade, Elrian reached out, desperate to hold on, but his father was already slipping away. "No… Please… don't go…"
I am always with you," Kaelen whispered, his voice lost into the ether. "You are strong enough to carry on."
Elrian dropped to his knees, the weight of his loss crashing over him. The memories of his father, of the man who had guided him, were gone. The world was saved, but at a cost greater than he could bear.
It cost-the Rift was no more, but victory was mine-just too pricey. And as Elrian sat there amidst what a broken world left, one more thing did his ringing mind repeat with:
It is my choice-it's always been.
And the freedom that comes always did cost just so much.
The silence after Kaelen was gone was deafening. Elrian knelt on the cold jagged ground of what was left of the Rift, his body battered, his mind in a haze of loss and confusion. The world had ended, but he had to pick through the shattered pieces left in that instant. He could not recall his father's face, yet the warmth of his words still lingered, the weight of his absence still palpable.
The air around him was heavy, oppressive, as if the very fabric of the world had unraveled with the battle just fought. He had destroyed the Rift, but at what cost in consequences. was it really worth it?
There came a crackling noise through the air, and Elrian hitched his breath. His gaze flickered around the room, where his heart suddenly took fast rhythm. The Rift should have been destroyed, shouldn't have left even so much as a void. Still, the faintest hint of energy hovered, a pulse he couldn't define.
"Elrian."The voice whispered it-the mere, soft echo within his very soul. "Elrian.
He froze. The voice—it wasn't Kaelen's, yet it was familiar. It was… Adria's.
His chest constricted. "Adria?" he whispered hoarsely, his voice no more than a hint of a breath amidst the stillness.
The whisper grew louder, more distinct, as if the air itself was trying to speak to him. "Elrian… You must understand…"
Elrian's eyes burned with tears he couldn't fully explain. He stood up slowly, and with every step forward into the void, it was as if the weight of the world pressed on him, taking him further away from who he was.
"I don't know what's real anymore…," he muttered. "I don't know who I am."
You are more than the shards of memory left behind," the voice said, "You have carried a world on your shoulders, but now. you must carry the burden of your soul."
El'rian's heart was racing, every beat louder in his ears as he searched for where the voice came from. His eyes flicked about, the world around him blurring like a dream, edges folding into naught.
"The artifact., he whispered, suddenly aware that it was in his hand. That sacred object-that thing that was the cause of so much suffering, so much destruction-glowed once again. This time, though, it was not on fire; it pulsed softly-a rhythm that joined his heartbeat.
Do you feel it, Elrian? The weight of your choices?" Adria's voice shook with sorrow, with understanding. "This world. it has crumbled, but the cycle must not be forgotten. It cannot be undone, but it can be remembered.
Memories of Adria whipped through his mind in a blizzard of pain: quiet times together, what they'd done and fought for together, her face smiling into horror, the softness of her hand in his, the promises. And all of it had been slipping away from him, like hazy details among dying stars of a star-scarred evening sky.
He stumbled backward, clutching the artifact tighter. "Tell me what I have to do! I can't. I can't bear this! I can't lose you again!"
"You never truly lost me, Elrian," Adria's voice soothed him, though it was tinged with an inexplicable sadness. "Not as long as you remember.
The ground around his feet shook, the destruction of the Rift making the remnants of reality shudder, a tearing in the Rift itself. The very fabric of existence seemed to unravel and snap back, tugging at the edges of his consciousness with an unstable force.
He felt the tug, a strong jerk that might split him in half. His eyes closed and he started to rise into the air, dissolving and merging with something much larger than himself.
"No!" Elrian screamed, as if clutching onto something in the grasp of panic: "I can't forget! Not all my memories-no, no!"
Adria's voice, now weak, yet cut through the chaos as clear as crystal. "You will never forget, Elrian. But you must choose: Will you cling to the past, or will you embrace the future? The choice is yours.
The world around him splintered completely. The collapse of the Rift had opened a doorway, no longer a source of malignant power, but a fragile threshold now, one beckoning to him with promises of answers. Or perhaps the promise of peace.
Elrian's vision blurred, but his heart did not. His choice lay before him, and it was no longer about saving the world. It was about saving himself.
One lonely tear welled in his eye and rolled down his cheek, which he promptly wiped away, determination setting in his features. Still clutching the artifact, Elrian stepped forward into the void; his body dissolving into the light.
As Elrian opened his eyes, the world that he knew was gone.
It was. peaceful. A stark contrast to the chaos that had defined his journey. He stood in a field-no war, no destruction. The sky was big, open, and clear. The air smelled like new beginnings.
Is this. the end?" Elrian asked himself softly, his voice barely a whisper. He felt. whole. Not whole as in the man he had been, but whole in a way he had never felt before-like he was part of something greater, something beyond the pain and loss he had suffered.
The glow of the artifact in his hand was gone. It had dulled into nothing, the power consumed by his sacrifice.
"Is this peace?" he asked once more, but nobody answered.
Still, he could feel Adria's presence, her warmth, her strength. And somewhere, deep in the recesses of his mind, the echoes of Kaelen's proud voice still lingered, like a whisper on the wind.
"El'rian," a soft voice behind said - the voice which had pursued him through the Rift, through devastation, the voice of the future - "you have done it."
He turned around, and before him was that figure, standing alive, which he had never ever believed that he would be looking upon.
Kaelen.
But not as he had last seen him—broken, fading. No, this was Kaelen as he was meant to be: whole, at peace. The same strength in his eyes, the same calm presence that had once guided him.
"I thought I lost you." Elrian whispered, his heart swelling with emotion. "I thought. I thought everything was gone."
Kaelen smiled, his face a mask of comprehension and empathy. "You did lose something, Elrian. But you didn't lose everything. And now, the future is yours to build." The wind then changed, carrying on its breath the faintest whisper of Adria's voice, soft yet unmistakable. "Remember, Elrian. We're never truly gone." With those words, Elrian stepped forward into the unknown, the weight of his past finally behind him. The future awaited.