The air around Eldric seemed to crackle with a strange energy as he stood, still reeling from the mental assault. His grip on the Godslayer remained firm, but his mind was clouded—thick with the haunting whispers of the past. The illusion had been powerful, but the fire inside him had never been so unyielding.
Yet something lingered. A seed of doubt, planted deep within the cracks of his mind. Could the gods truly erase everything he fought for? Was he just another pawn, struggling against an endless cycle of destruction and rebirth?
The world around him felt... distant. He could hear Karis's voice, her concern cutting through the haze.
"Eldric, stay with me! You're not alone in this. You know we're in this together."
Her words helped anchor him, but still, the whispers of the gods clawed at his thoughts. Every decision he had made, every choice, suddenly seemed fragile.
"I… I know," Eldric murmured, shaking his head. He couldn't afford to lose himself now. Not when so much was at stake.
Seraphine's voice cut through the tension. "Eldric, the gods don't just play games. They're trying to break you. If you fall, the rest of us will be dragged down with you."
He turned to her, meeting her piercing gaze. "I won't fall." His voice was firmer now. "I've already walked through fire and darkness. What are a few whispers compared to that?"
But the lingering sense of uncertainty still clung to him, gnawing at the edges of his resolve. The gods—they were the true threat now. They had the power to twist reality itself, to shatter everything he had built.
But they had forgotten one thing.
Eldric was alive. He was human.
And if they thought they could extinguish his fire with illusions and lies, they were gravely mistaken.
---
The Arrival of an Old Friend
Hours later, they continued their journey through the decimated landscape. The temple had been nothing more than a staging ground for the gods' first strike, and the road ahead was filled with uncertainty. Eldric's mind was still clouded by the lingering effects of the illusion, but with every step, his resolve grew stronger.
Then, out of nowhere, a shadow flickered ahead—sharp, sudden, and unmistakable.
Karis's senses went on high alert, her swords already in her hands. "Who's there?" she called out, her voice sharp.
Eldric's heart skipped a beat, but he did not draw the Godslayer. Not yet.
A figure stepped out from the shadows—a figure they all knew.
"Well, well," a deep voice called out, the words dripping with mockery. "Look what the gods have sent to chase me down."
It was Dante, the rogue sorcerer who had once been a thorn in Eldric's side. But now, there was a cold edge to his smile, and his presence was tinged with something darker, more sinister.
"Dante…" Eldric muttered, a frown pulling at his features. "What are you doing here?"
Dante's grin widened as he stepped forward, his dark robes swirling around him like smoke. "Isn't it obvious? I'm here to give you a little… help."
Seraphine's brow furrowed. "Help?" She shot a glance at Eldric. "We don't need help from someone like him."
Eldric's hand twitched toward the Godslayer, but he resisted the urge. Dante had always been a wild card—unpredictable and dangerous. Still, Eldric couldn't ignore the fact that he had always been useful in a way.
Dante crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "I see you're still trying to hold onto your precious morals. Cute." He smirked again, his eyes gleaming with something that could almost be mistaken for amusement. "But here's the thing, Eldric. The gods have made their move. You know that, right? And you're not getting far without more than just your little blade."
The air around them shifted. Dante's presence, once just a nuisance, now carried an unmistakable weight. There was power in him—a power that had not been there before.
Karis stepped forward, glaring at Dante. "What are you really after?"
Dante chuckled, a low, sinister sound that made the hairs on the back of Eldric's neck stand up. "What am I after? Oh, I'm after survival, my dear Karis. And power—something that will allow me to ensure I'm not erased by the gods like so many others."
Eldric eyed him carefully. "What's your game, Dante?"
"I've made a deal," Dante said, his eyes gleaming. "The gods want you to break. I want to see you survive. And to do that…" He gestured to himself, "I'll need to offer you something. A little gift, if you will."
Seraphine stepped forward, her eyes narrowing. "A gift? From you?"
Dante nodded, his grin widening. "Oh yes. Power. Magic. The means to fight the gods on their terms. You've got your flame, Eldric. But what if you could wield more? What if you could control the fire that burns within the gods themselves?"
Eldric hesitated. His instincts screamed that this was a trap. But the gods had already tried to manipulate him. Dante might be dangerous, but he wasn't entirely wrong either.
"The gods are strong," Dante continued, his voice dark and coaxing. "But you, Eldric, are something new. Something they've never seen before. You were reborn in flame, yes? But what if I told you there's a way to make that flame immortal?"
A long silence stretched between them. Karis stepped back, crossing her arms, while Seraphine studied Dante closely, calculating every word.
Finally, Eldric spoke, his voice low but steady. "And what's the price?"
Dante's eyes gleamed. "Ah, the price… You'll see soon enough. The question is, Eldric, how far are you willing to go to win?"