“Destroy everything.”

  The Lion commands with the voice of a million whispers in unison. Back on the black beach lapped by the ocean of blood, the crimson storm hides the Gates of Despair at the edge of the horizon.

  “I refuse.”

  He walks towards me standing on the sea, a red robe covering his waist like the clothes of a king.

  The Lion stares at me. “Why?”

  “It's wrong.”

  He spit out a laugh. “Wrong? To whom? Your actions don't matter as much as you think.”

  “They matter to me. To the heavens.”

  “Heavens?” He says, moving like a shadow around me with glaring, hungry eyes. The Lion molds the earth and the blood beneath us to show me his heart, and constructs a castle made of flesh and burning hell. “We already have a home, a heavenly place, for our glory. If not we, what god do you speak about? The Three Flames? The Greater Stars? The Heart of the Earth?” He says. “Your fate was sealed from the beginning of the cosmos, when the firmament of matter was placed over the spirit. It was said that no action would affect you, no decision would alter your destiny. Whoever is under the celestial throne, they do not care. I do.”

  “Whoever you are, the only thing we know is that every man has a destiny. A choice. Any choice is better than shaking your hand.”

  A faint laugh echoes through the Unknown. The castle erodes, then becomes dark sand. The lion moves his hands yet again, and make another construct.

  A chain binds my body, darkness blind my eyes. The sickly red tone from the sky above is my only source of light.

  “But you're not like all men, are you?” He asks.

  I frown, but don't answer.

  “No.” The Lion says. “In truth, all men have a mission. Often, however, it is practical for the gods that some of them fall so that others may rise and bring greater good out of evil. You are not among the chosen ones. Your fears are real: you have already been condemned, and your punishment for being born is to spend eternity with the demons who inhabit your nightmares.”

  I inhale. “I spent sleepless nights to avoid going back to that place. I've used that argument against myself more times than I can count. A trick like that, it's not going to work. A child won't be imprisoned with you for any reason.”

  “Child? You're as old as time. Motive? We have as many as you can imagine. Your heart is vile, Sieghart. The vilest of all. You play with fire by getting close to the Unknown, you fall for his temptations on purpose in the unconscious hope of an excuse to give in. At the same time, you are interrupted by a morality that is inferior to you. A puppet of the divine who does his utmost to save others, but condemns himself.”

  “… Unconscious. That's all it is.”

  “It's your nature!” He roars. “A being that was created to suffer in life and in death until the end of existence. One who, despite crying out in the clamor of non-existence, suffers from the infinite mercy that sustains him.”

  The chains erode. They fall onto the ground to yet again become sand. The Lion points to the horizon. “What do you think will happen when you walk up to those Gates? Which god will be there for you? The Flame, which will burn your eyes out? Or the Earth, which will impale you with its vines? Do you think they'll accept you, the most tainted of their creation?! They will betray you, just as you think they will!”

  I clench my fist, then wander my eyes across the sea of blood.

  “Maybe it's the truth.” I nod. “I always believed it was. No matter how much I talk or how much I understand, the sick worry never stops. But without the magic, what I do or do not believe doesn't matter to reality.” I say. “Education on complex subjects isn't so good in the village. I think you know more than I do about whom the one in the heavens is, or why I exist. That's why I want to believe you. That's why I can't.”

  “Insolent. How can you trust the one who condemned you instead of the one who wants to save you? You will perish like a worm, and all the majesty of your blood will be wasted. Take the weight off your back. Look at the world with hateful eyes again. Where is your fury?! Your anger?!”

  “Trust? And who am I going to trust? Me, who wants to trust a demon, or the demon who wants to consume me? If the heavens hate me, don't they have a reason?”

  I grit my teeth and rebuild my courage to face the Lion's eyes. “No. Even if I were doomed, it would be better to suffer for eternity than to become one of you. If my destiny lies with the divine, and he has a reason and a wish for the ultimate good, then there is no better decision than to follow what has been set before me.”

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  The Lion bares his teeth. He moves closer until his face is inches from mine. His crimson eyes mirror mine, and so does the hatred that explodes in his heart.

  “You will suffer, Sieghart. The gods will abandon you as they once did. Your defeat has been prophesied, your mind will collapse to the greatness of worms beneath you. That is my promise.”

  I clench my fists. They shake—they shake like they never have before. My heart beats like a bomb, and its sound in my ears is as loud as one. I don't want to do it. I'd like the comfort of defeat to embrace me, even if it's unbearable. I want to run away and let myself be carried away by fear. I don't want to have to take the next step and entrust my life to those who will destroy me.

  In contrast, I have the greatest certainty of my life—and the Unknown doesn't make me hesitate.

  I walk to the sea of blood and cross the lion. I dip my feet in the crimson and face the Gate that looms over me on the horizon. I walk on the ocean and fight to keep the Unknown from sinking me. The ocean, however, is not enough to fill my cup. Step by step, the dimension breaks before my command and obeys my orders to manifest my imagination.

  If there is a single path that I can take; if there is a single world out of a billion where I can overcome the Unknown; a single chance of not being consumed by the battle against the myriad of demons or having my heart swallowed up by their corruption, that would be my path.

  That's my promise.

  ***

  The Gate of Despair opens and the agent of change is born before the face of the earth. Illuminated by the silver light of the moon and defending my conscience while supported by the Lady of the Lake, the dream comes true once again.

  My wounds are glued together by the aura that explodes from my body. All around me, the emerald turns to fire and ice and returns to the grass. I master only what I can, letting the rest of the mana that I haven't mastered flow out and deform the forest. For the sake of the world itself, I cannot linger. The battle will be decided in a single second—in a single attack.

  “Blade of Disaster.”

  In my hands, I conjure the shadows and shape it into a paradoxical-umbral blade. Black as the veil of night, it glows with the red of flames and transforms into a thousand weapons before stabilizing. The creature charges in fury and, for the heavens and earth, I make my promise so that the entire cosmos can hear me:

  “I WILL NOT FALL!”

  I slash with the Blade, and Its cut stretches through the air, the forest, and reality itself. I see the canvas that mages use to paint their magic being torn apart, just as the illogical nature of Chaos demands. I see everything, I see nothing -- finally, I see victory.

  Red consumes all the Chaos power I can use and explodes in a flash that illuminates Aldwyn Forest. The deafening cacophony follows the waving of the blade and fades with its glow.

  Trees split in half fall in succession, the fire disappears along with the direct influence of Chaos—but its consequences remain. Exterminated, the creature disappears without leaving any evidence of its existence other than the black trail that stretches to the horizon.

  Solid air falls to the ground like shards of glass. Trees grow to the size of houses, clouds turn to water and fall on the fire that should never cease. All the colors of Chaos expand before my face, and in their disorder, beauty stretches out.

  The Unknown is locked in its chains as I watch the lion's murderous stare curse me, and then it is blown away like smoke by the breeze.

  One second.

  I kneel down. My vision is still blurred, even though my wounds have regenerated. My physical body may have been able to take it -- but the supernatural effort I endured in the fraction of a minute was greater than I've felt in my entire life. I take a deep breath, but it's no use.

  A smile runs across my face.

  Elron may survive. As soon as he wakes up, he will return safely to the village. A monster has been defeated, and that will help them too.

  I didn't manage to complete my goal—it seems ironic to die just now. Maybe that's what was planned. Still, for the first time in many years, I feel happy.

  I lie down on the grass. The breeze kisses my face, now protected from the abomination that contaminated it. I feel like I've blasphemed too many times. I hope that doing all this will earn me some merit. Of course, I think my mistakes are more justifiable because of the circumstances.

  I wonder how they will be counted in court. My eyelids feel heavy and announce that it's time to find out;

  Don't leave me alone, child.

  But destiny has another plan for me, and it reaches my ears in the form of a voice as sweet and gentle as the breeze that snuggles me.

  “…?”

  Blue. Why do I see blue? I turn to the horizon and my eyes hurt from the change in hue. A strong, crystalline blue takes over the sky.

  Is that…?

  In front of me, the Fairy Lady Lake appears. No—I emerge from the grass of the clearing. I'm not sure when I arrived—but I'm sure I didn't walk here. Transported, the perimeter is a perfect copy and, even though I know this isn't the Lake I know, I feel in my bones that it's the same. The colors are so vibrant that they blur the air as if they were colored beyond their boundaries. The flowers are bigger—none of this, however, matched the beauty of that woman.

  Who is…?

  On the horizon, illuminated by the silver light of dusk, the Lady of the Lake walks on the water. Her footsteps create peaceful waves that echo through the air and caress my face. Her eyes are as golden as the sun, her hair as shiny as the gold that makes up the foliage on her shoulders. Resplendent, the latter adorns and contrasts with your voluminous black dress, which in turn does the same for your winter-white skin.

  Plants and trees bend down before your real presence, a fox accompanies your right foot and a large spider your left. Under your shoulder, a black crow complements your consuming gaze that penetrates the depths of my soul.

  The Lady of the Lake approaches.

  “Should I save you, Sieghart?”