>>6328300<span class="mu-b">Though what happened has greatly stressed her, she knows Argia will be there for her in the end. She is trying to help… she will explain so one day. Willow’s stats will remain unchanged.</span>
Willow’s hand trembles, then clutches something, fabric that sticks out of her trousers.
Coarse and unfinished, but she recognizes it. She has knitted every thread of it.
“Argia,” she mumbles, taking her mind away from Celaeno’s furious mirth, away from the Worm munching on flesh, away from the pit of her folly and towards the strong arms of a silver-haired girl, the girl she swore she would save, the girl who is always at the forefront of her mind.
That would be enough to give her strength. For when the time comes to face her again.
At the end of her promise.
At the end of all things.
Thus, Willow Stark closes her eyes.
# # # # # #
You open your eyes.
Lay blinking on the grass, next to the creek where past-Bragia and past-Helias are whispering to each other. Gathering their courage for the task ahead.
As for you—
Your hand reaches up and grasps at the ever-present planetary ring.
Your finger brushes on its edges, inside the dark furrows that run down its length.
This thing has been with you since the very beginning. A sight so common you wouldn’t even think about it, or where it came from.
“Ansàrra’s brother,” you murmur.
At the edge of your vision, the smooth dark head of Helias, the one that is present with you at the moment, nods.
He detaches one of his hands from Lithala’s and traces the span of it all across the sky.
It has always been there.
Rotting, festering.
The corpse of a God.
[cont.]
