Chapter CCCLX: The End? ~Lady North

It had been quite a long time since the girl carrying the last Jem had disappeared. She had been hunting someone the first second, and the next, she was gone. Seemed to vanish into oblivion without a trace, without a single clue. Leaving many things unfinished, including her very Destiny.

This is what happens, when you leave Destiny to run its own course, without shaping it yourself...

The wolf trotted here and there, making up a list of minor, unimportant things that needed to be seen to, hoping for just a few more minutes of distraction from the true thoughts on his mind. Those minutes were never enough though, and the deep sorrow always found a way to surface. So much, that Fang found himself absent-mindedly shrugging off his self-appointed duties, and visiting Ianios' grave under the tree.

Day by day, the wolf laid there, until the time spent awake and the time spent sleeping became nothing more than a bothersome blur. Once in a great while, the now elderly companion would find it in himself to go hunt down a meal. But those days were too short in coming now. He could barely find the energy within himself to roll over, or even open his always weary eyes.

"Yatina..." his mind would whisper sometimes. "Whatever happened to you...I know you are still living...did you forget about your forest... ...Yatina..."

Down in his old bones, Fang knew that the power was fading. With every day that dragged by, the power of the Jems, the power of the Vernies gods declined. In a way, their Yatina won, since Lord Galician never possessed all the Jems. The world was safe, the forest was safe, and somewhere, Fang hoped, that his Yatina was safe too.

With one last heavy sigh, the wolf forgave his dearest friend for never coming back, and laid himself to rest next to Ianios, among the Temple, the forest, and the wondrous memories of a lifetime past.

Meanwhile, in Lord Galician's Palace of Darkness, him and Medor watched Glenaron's final moments. They watched his last breath and with it, the death of his Jem. Never could it be recovered now, even if Galician had the power to do so. Even the power sphere that kept Medor prisoner was fading, until Galician decided to remove it, and conserve the small amount of energy it still gave him.

There was no fear of Medor escaping anyway, since his power, too, was fading and he could not have returned home even if he wished it so. Now, the two forgotten gods passed the lonely hours watching for any sign of Yatina, and telling stories of worlds passed. And in the final hours, the truth was revealed.

"There is something you should know, Galician." The ancient Medor said to his evil counterpart.

"Something that I do not already? You have a large reputation for being the deliverer of the obvious." The Lord of Darkness sneered. Even in his final moments of power, the deamon intended to always be one step ahead of his brother.

With a graceful, fluid motion, Medor covered the Seer's Orb with a piece of black cloth, as if he were burying Glenaron himself. Only after that task had been seen to, did the demoh face the other god.

"The writings have been fulfilled, brother. True, though it has stretched to the very edge of meaning, they have come to pass nonetheless."

"I think that your many years spent in my element, and your declining powers have made you daft, Medor. But I won't hold it against you. It must be hard to see your wondrous works taken from you by a creator that never existed in the first place. Unlike you, brother, I will always live, since all believe in death and destruction." The evil god chuckled.

"She was your daughter, Galician."

"Now that is something I never thought I would hear from you. Are you reconsidering your vows to the Light? Trying to join with me in your final moments by lying to me? I never thought you that power hungry."

"You know she is, brother. Did you think that night with your priestess Elleen would have been nothing to the writings?" Medor asked.

"She got rid of it. Yes it grew, but it never lived to see daylight." Galician countered.

"It was named, many times actually, and grew into the one who managed to rid the world of you."

"So she did..." The deamon murmured after a few moments of thought, and an unexpected, rare smile crossed his features. "I always knew that girl was something special, even if she was raised by a fool like you. What did Elleen name her?"

"Agn'vel." Medor said as correctly as he could, since the twisted language of the Order had always faltered on his tongue.

"Beautiful..." Lord Galician said with genuine awe. "It really has come to pass then? She has truly been born of both worlds?" The elderly god nodded.

"Truly, she has. And hopefully, somewhere, she lives and is happy."

With a sigh, the deamon sank back into his chair, closing his eyes.

"Then it will come to pass as it was written. Only... you and I will just fade into oblivion, and be recycled into the new way of things... ...have you any regrets, Medor?"

The demoh took a seat behind a desk, and laboriously began to write something.

"Only that I could not have seen her one last time."

"Finally," Lord Galician stated. "We have come to agree on something."

Medor, after a few quiet moments, finished his small writings. The pen dropped from his hand onto the floor as he laid his head on his outstretched arm.

"Galician?" The older god asked into the quiet. No answer.

"See you in the New World, my brother..." The last god of the Vernies replied into the echo of silence. With a final yawn, the one lap in the room extinguished, leaving no more light, life, or power to the only, now-passed, remaining member of the Vernies.

And with that, Destiny was fulfilled...without the knowledge of anyone...