I stand tall, death surrounding me on all sides. My body aches with each breath I take. The frostbite from the Third King's relentless attacks rendered my left arm all but useless, transforming it into nothing but a black, withered husk. It had only been of use to me for this long because I continued to reanimate it via necromancy time and time again.

  In every direction, there is carnage and ruin. The Radiant Vanguard's battle-clerics lay strewn about, their once resplendent armor now muddied and dull. The Snowfall Eiraschade's mages lay in pools of their own blood, their lifeless eyes staring up at a sky that no longer dares to look back. And the Ashenveil Sisterhood... their flames have long since been extinguished. The Seven Kings didn’t even leave the ashes behind, they knew they couldn’t risk it.

  "Every time," I whisper to myself, "it's the same." Regret fills me, bitter and cold, followed by a burning hatred for the Seven Kings. Due to everyone’s collective efforts though, it is now only the Two Kings.

  "Clara," a voice calls out weakly, and I turn to the source of it, Terra. His own wounds are just as severe as my own, if not worse. I can’t bear to see him die, not again, not when I have the power to save him.

  Summoning what little mana remains within me, I open a hole in the barrier that surrounds us. Just large enough for him to escape.

  "Go, you can survive if you run now."

  "You said that we’d fight them together!"

  For a moment, I waver, but I know that dying from heartbreak is a very real issue and I can’t die just yet. Before he has the chance to change my mind, I close the barrier once more, sealing him away from this nightmare.

  "I’m sorry, Terra," I murmur, knowing that he can no longer hear me. "I’ll find you again in the next life, I promise."

  As the world around me continues to crumble and fall, I take a final, shuddering breath, and steel myself for what’s to come. In the distance, the ground splinters and cracks, heralding the arrival of the Sixth King, Stonewarden Durandel.

  You see, this was not my first time watching the world come to an end. This same battle had already happened time, and time, and time again.

  "Clara…" Death's voice echoes softly in my mind, a somber melody that reminds me of home. Had he talked to my fallen comrades in a similar fashion? "Do you not tire of this suffering?"

  "Of course I do. I want nothing more than to lie down and rest," I reply, my voice laced with bitterness. "But what choice do I have? I can’t forsake this world or its people, not now. This isn’t how I want it to end…"

  As my remaining strength wanes, I grab hold of the hilt of a blade that was broken off in my side. I wasn’t sure when the weapon had found its way there, but it was my blade now. My fingers brush against the cold metal, and I grit my teeth against the searing pain that follows. The Fifth King's poison courses through me, and my internal organs are shutting down one by one, an agonizing countdown to my inevitable demise.

  "Is this as far as I go?" I ask Death, though I already know the answer. "Is there nothing more I can do?"

  "Your path has led you here, Clara. But even as you face me, you are not powerless."

  "Then tell me," I plead, my vision blurring as tears fill my eyes. "Tell me how to end this nightmare for good."

  The very earth beneath me trembles. He’s close now. Every breath feels like a dagger in my chest, as if the Fifth King's poison seeks to claim me before I’m able to reach my next foe. I stumble forward, falling into one of the many fissures that litter the battlefield. I hit the ground hard, and my left leg gives out underneath me.

  "Is this all you have, warrior?" Stonewarden Durandel's voice echoes mockingly from the depths, his laughter reverberating off the rocky walls. "Pathetic. You have no mana, no strength, and your mortal body is failing you. How do you expect to stand against me?"

  "Mana isn't everything," I repeat the words of my late master, struggling to rise even as the pain threatens to consume me. With every ounce of determination I can muster, I invoke my final spell.

  "Animasculus Excidium."

  As I utter the words, an inferno of agony consumes me from within, searing away my very soul in exchange for power beyond what any mortal could hope to achieve in their finite time in this world. The air around me warps and twists, as reality itself strains to contain this force I’ve unleashed.

  "Impossible!" Durandel roars, but his shock doesn’t last long. With newfound strength, I drive my hand through the rock wall, piercing his hidden form with deadly accuracy. "Just because you’re out of mana," I shout, grabbing a hold of his heart, "doesn’t mean that you’re out of options!" I crush it, and a cacophony of screams fill the air, echoing his torment as the rock wall falls away to reveal Durandel’s stony, dying form.

  I hear my own voice amongst those dying voices. Hollow and devoid of life.

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  Of course, such a spell didn’t come without a cost. Without mana, something else must be used in its place to act as fuel. In this case, it was my soul. Using your soul in this way would make you unwelcome to any afterlife.

  No more mana courses through my veins, leaving me bereft of the necromantic abilities that had let me defy death for so long. My left arm, blackened and twisted, hangs limp at my side. Without mana, it was worthless to me. A maelstrom of pain fills my frame, though it pales in comparison to the agony that claws at the remnants of my soul.

  "Curious," says a voice from above, and I am pulled from the fissure by an invisible force.

  I come face to face with what I can only describe as a creature. He is as tall as the oldest trees, and just as uniquely twisted and gnarled. Dark as night, and all powerful, maybe an unknown God of the shadows? No, that’s not right. I know his name.

  "The Seventh King, Nihilothe the Voidspawn."

  His dark eyes pierce into my very being, as if he is reading a book. "Everything you've done... it was all to meet me, wasn't it?"

  "That’s right."

  "Among your kind, this would be considered strange, would it not?"

  I hesitate, but then give a weak nod.

  Nihilothe stares at me with beady black eyes, his lips curling up into a cruel smile. "Six positions of my ranks have recently become vacant. I never foresaw a human being capable of such a feat. Join me, and together we can shape this world anew. Anything you desire, yours for the taking, girl-No…Warrior!"

  In another life, I might have accepted this offer. But not now, not this time.

  "Your offer is tempting, but I must decline," I say, meeting his gaze now. "Instead, I have just one wish…"

  "And what might that be, curious human? Would you like me to heal your decaying form? Or mend your ruptured mana-core? Perhaps you’d like me to collect the millions of pieces of your splintered soul that you oh so valiantly offered up to defeat the unsuspecting Durandel? Oh, I know! How you would like me to bring your dearest comrades back from beyond the brink. This too can be arranged," He coos, and raises a black, multi jointed finger, prepared to deliver on every seemingly impossible task.

  "None of those, I’m afraid," I cough up thick, gelatinous blood as I continue, "I’d like to know what I should have done differently to defeat you. I want to know if it was ever truly possible to begin with" I smile as best I can, but I don’t think it quite reaches my lips.

  Nihilothe’s expression darkens as he listens to my request, "You came all this way to ask me that?"

  "That’s not entirely true. I wanted to save the world, you know. But the chances of that happening aren’t looking too good now, are they?"

  Two large, beady eyes turn into one. It’s as if I’m under a giant spotlight as I face the sole, glowing eye. The stories were true, he really can read minds. But my mind isn’t such a simple thing. Just because he can view its contents, doesn’t mean that he can understand it.

  Nihilothe winces as he peers into the depths of my mind. "You are not being entirely honest with me."

  "You could see through that, huh? I guess that makes sense, creatures from the Void are pretty good with this kind of stuff. You being their King and all, of course you’d know…"

  "Human… I suggest you-"

  "Every path I've walked bears the scars of my touch, yet every path I've forsaken crumbles beneath the weight of my absence," I whisper, as if voicing the thought aloud would somehow lessen its burden.

  "Clara… Do you believe this is your fault? The company you kept was weak, that’s all there is to it. You are a true warrior among your kind. You dared to stand against us, and you would have won if your opponent was any other than myself. Please, tell me another wish of yours. There is still time for you yet. Take my hand!"

  "Tell me what I should have done differently."

  Seeing that I’m not going to change my mind, Nihilothe sighs.

  "That final attack of yours was truly remarkable. If you had been able to hold on just a while longer, you may have been able to damage me with it, certainly. Though to actually kill me, you would need power akin to that of a god. A mere mortal such as yourself never stood a chance."

  "I see… Might I make one more request?"

  "Anything."

  "Words of affirmation are nice, but what I truly desire is a battle I’ll remember well after I’m dead and gone. Treat me like a real opponent, and strike me down with your strongest attack!"

  "Words alone are not enough to satiate you? Fine, I will grant you a warrior’s death. Across every perceivable permeation, you alone are the only mortal that could have made it this far. I acknowledge you, Clara Crowsong!"

  Nihilothe begins preparations to unleash his full might upon me. Ancient magics I’ve never seen begin to swirl around him, my eyes take in every detail, already hard at work to dissect the spell and its inner machinations. Knowledge floods my mind as I take it all in. But just as he’s about to release the attack, his eye catches mine, and he hesitates.

  "Wait," Nihilothe murmurs, and the spell begins to fizzle away into nothingness. "Why would you willingly die after having come this far? You are a warrior through and through. You fought tooth and nail. You led your people to their deaths, no, willingly sacrificed them… You never wished to save this world. You killed so many for the sole purpose of meeting me. Yet you never intended to defeat me?..."

  "Yes, that’s right," I admit, and cough up more blood as I do so. Perhaps he could read more of my mind than I had originally thought. The Seventh King, he truly was as omniscient as the tomes had warned of. The blood fills my throat now as my legs give out under me. My time is running out, and quickly.

  "What are you hiding?" Nihilothe demands, his eye covering me with a blinding white light as it struggles to unravel my mind.

  But I can’t answer him now. The blood flooding my lungs has already begun to suffocate me, and darkness embraces me once more. This life too, was coming to a close.

  It’s all the same in the end…

  "Clara Crowsong!" Nihilothe screams, his fury echoing through the night sky as my body begins to chip, and break away. "Wait! Answer me, Crowsong! What is it you’re hiding?!"

  Funny. I never thought he would be among those who mourn for me.

  His questions would remain unanswered though, for death was the only sanctuary from his prying gaze.