Zalia found Aylie in the exact same place she had left her before the battle.

  “So, I didn’t see a galaxy worth of stars falling down on us during the fight. How are you doing?”

  “I led many to their deaths.”

  Zalia leaned against the trunk and looked at Aylie as she sat on the edge of the branch, swinging her legs.

  “Good. We have the barebones of a plan going forward. We’re going to send teams out into Cormaine to take down the leaders of different demon clans to cause as much chaos as possible. Would you like to come with me when I do?”

  “Yes.”

  Zalia pushed off and sat next to Aylie.

  “Alright. And hey, you’re doing good. I didn’t know your family, but if they were here I think they would be happy to see you’re capable of holding your own against these things. I think they would be proud that you’re making sure what happened to them doesn’t happen to anyone else. I am too, you know. I’m proud of you.”

  She opened her mind to Aylie, something that she very, very rarely did, so that Aylie could see that pride. That joy she had in what Aylie had become.

  Aylie leant her head against Zalia’s shoulder and Zalia pulled her close, rubbing her arm comfortingly in a motherly way.

  “Do you remember the city of Hetheir from my stories?”

  Aylie nodded.

  “Well I’d like to pay it a visit. There are still tens of thousands of bodies being violated there, brought to undeath by the evil in this world. They deserve to be put to rest after all this time. Let’s go there now.”

  Aylie sat up straight.

  “Alright, let’s go.”

  Then she pushed off the branch into freefall. Zalia rolled her eyes and followed, casting the ritual that would give Aylie flight before she decided to form a much too quick relationship with the ground.

  She tugged on the bond between herself and Boreal and she appeared on top of Zalia in an instant.

  “Hey, get off me.”

  Boreal tumbled sideways, falling upside down beside her before Zalia gave her wings too. They had way too much faith in her.

  Together, the three of them flew out of the Grove and into the oppressive aura of Cormaine. Zalia allowed her own aura to push it back for kilometres, before eventually pulling it back to a few metres around them. She might be able to hold the weaker ever present aura back, but if a Thousand-eyed one or whatever that leviathan of a creature had been sensed her, it wouldn’t be as much of a good time.

  They flew along the ceiling of the cavern at speed, significantly faster than the last time she had made this journey. She could see the marks that she’d made in the stone that marked the right path as she went, each one flashing by.

  It wasn’t long before they arrived at Hetheir. She looked down on the ruined city, thousands and thousands of undead Bathar still roving around its streets. Her vision was better now than it had been the last time she saw the city, detail easily visible even from this distance. They hung in the air, both Boreal and Aylie silent.

  “I remember running through those streets, barely escaping from undead. Sneaking about the rooftops. Boreal missing a jump and almost falling down into an infested alley. Hours spent laying traps to clear out small sections of the city.”

  She looked down at the wooden gauntlet that had melded with her hand, the heirloom that gave her the vault.

  “We almost died a lot in this city. We even found an heirloom for Boreal here.”

  She frowned.

  “Speaking of, what did you do with that heirloom Boreal? I haven’t seen you wear it in forever.”

  Boreal looked at her with her head tilted.

  “It changed. Became part of me.”

  “It did what?”

  “I need no armour to protect and slow me down, so I made it change. It now bonds to my bones, supports, strengthens, empowers.”

  Zalia blinked.

  “You made it change? I didn’t know you could do that. Are you telling me that you’ve had metal bones this entire time?”

  Boreal bared her teeth in an approximation of a grin. Then a barely visible, shimmering force spread over it, not metallic like Zalia had assumed but pure power. How had Boreal made it change to suit her needs like that?

  A conversation for another time. Now she had to focus on the city before her. Looking around, there weren’t any demons present. That was good, because she was about to do something stupid.

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  Zalia dropped, shooting like an arrow towards the infested city. Then she let her aura expand, pushing back the corrupted air of Cormaine until a large part of the city was liberated. The undead Bathar evaporated in an ever expanding wave, their bones turned to dust. She spread out her wings of mist and the drop turned into a dash, flying low and fast across the city surface. The Bathar stood no chance, their low ranks giving no protection against the healing nature of her aura.

  What was usually a tool of healing was turned to a weapon. A weapon that she used to cleanse the city of Hetheir and free the souls of those damned by this place. The shades in the sky didn’t dare approach her, her rank and aura enough to scare them away. For a moment, she saw the city for what it might have once been, images of its beauty before the demons flashing to her mind from a memory still stored in her vault.

  There were areas still protected from her aura, the research facility deep underground and the keep in which the king still remained.

  She went to the research facility first. The anti magic field was still there, she could see it now. It was pushed aside with a thought and she swooped down inside, clearing it out in an instant. Next, the keep. Her flight took her there quickly and this time she used the front door.

  Neither gate nor wall stopped her as she burst in, any guards that remained inside turning to dust. Boreal and Aylie were there with her, having kept close throughout her flight. Zalia reigned in her aura, containing it to the area outside of the throne room. She wanted to see the king one last time before he, too, was put to rest.

  Her path took her up the stairs and to the throne room, to the doors she had never opened. Last time, she had hidden in the wall to scout out the inside, seen the king and had been too scared to enter. She didn’t pause, pushing the large double doors open to reveal the throne room, long benches laid out to either side. Undead filled the space, nobles and their attendants. Guards and their king.

  They had probably known this was the last time they would feast in these halls. The evacuation had been ongoing when the Thousand-eyed one had attacked this city. She just didn’t think they expected it to be the last feast in the halls because they would be dead.

  So she ended that last feast even as they stood to attack her. Nobles, attendants and guards were reduced to dust. The king didn’t fall to her aura though, Gold rank as he was. He was severely weakened, stumbling towards her and… his eyes. He still had eyes, watching her, staring with joy, wonder, pain and exhaustion. How long had he been here, slumped in his throne looking at the remnants of his ruined kingdom. His soul, trapped eternal by some mixture of Gold rank power and the aura of Cormaine.

  He didn’t fight back as she cut him down.

  Those too human eyes dimmed, the light fading from them. Then the healing spirit that hid within Zalia’s aura stepped out and touched a hand to his remains. Decayed bones were restored, muscle, blood and flesh grew over them. The light returned to those eyes and for the first time in many, many years, the king took a deep breath.

  Zalia’s own breath hitched as she stared. He was whole, the scraps that remained of his royal clothes still hanging onto his body. How?

  He spoke, voice cracking and quiet. Much like the remnants of documents that she had found last she was here though, the language he spoke was not the same. There were parts she thought she understood, that hidden ability to translate language trying its best to figure it out. Something about death.

  “Don’t worry, I’ve come to help you. I can take you from this place.”

  He stood, toweringly tall but hunched and uncertain. Zalia used Natural Matter Alteration and did her best to restore his clothes to their previous state. She couldn’t fix them entirely, as clothes, especially high quality ones, were a complex creation still mostly beyond her. Still, they would be functional.

  His eyes went distant and she wondered if it would be more of a mercy to kill him then and there. The Gold rank mind was strong and could withstand and recover from some very deep traumas but he had been through a lot. Perhaps there was a chance for him, depending on how much of his torturous existence he remembered.

  Zalia opened the entrance to her vault and took him by the arm, gently leading him through. Boreal and Aylie, both staring wide eyed, followed her.

  They stepped out into the Grove, the guards assigned to the portals standing up straight. Zalia searched the Grove with her mind, finding Faian in a nearby open structure with a map of the island in it.

  She considered taking the king over there, but ended up gently leading him away from the ruckus and busy movement that surrounded the general. They went somewhere quiet, under the boughs of the trees, leaves rustling in a calm breeze.

  He seemed to come a little bit more alive, perhaps reminded by the life here of a time when his kingdom wasn’t hell. The king eventually sat down on the ground, apparently without care for the dirt and leaves. He looked up and let out a deep, shuddering breath. Zalia waited, saying nothing. Not that he would understand her even if she did speak. He leaned over and wiped away the leaves littering the ground, then started to draw. A large oval first, then smaller shapes within it. He leaned back and waved his hand over the drawing, then looked up and shrugged as if in confusion. Or…

  “Your world is not the same as it was. It doesn’t look like this anymore so I can’t tell you where we are.”

  He shrugged.

  Muttering, Zalia tried to figure out how to convey her message. She knelt down, paused, then drew jagged lines through his drawing of the world. Then she used Natural Matter Alteration to pull it apart, keeping the old drawing intact within the fragments, until it looked like the world had been torn apart. Then she wiped it clean and made a new drawing, endless islands without an end or border in sight. She pointed at one of them, gesturing widely with her other hand.

  “Here, we’re here.”

  He stared at her wide-eyed. Then put his hands together in a spherical shape, before pulling them apart as if it exploded. She nodded. His gaze cast down to the ground, such pain in his expression that she felt horrible for exposing him to more. She needed to try something to give him hope.

  Brow furrowed, Zalia grew something that he might recognise. An altar, with decorations and depictions of Nateysta. It rose up to two thirds her height before stopping. The king stood and Zalia leant down to touch her hand to an image of the god. His eyes lit up with recognition and he nodded fiercely.

  Then she created a smaller figure, that of a Thousand-eyed one. This time his eyes darkened with recognition. She placed it to the side and summoned her sword, then planted it into the ground and touched her hand to the image of Nateysta again.

  “Nateysta,” she put her other hand to her chest, then drew both hands together to clasp them, “and I, are working together.”

  She drew the sword and stabbed it through the image of the Thousand-eyed one.

  “Nateysta and I are working together to kill them. To retake the world.”

  With Natural Matter Alteration, she created a carving of the world torn to pieces, then slowly merged it back together until it was whole again.

  “To rebuild your world.”

  She touched the depiction of Nateysta one more time, then her own chest, then clasped her hands. Finally, she reached a hand out to the king.

  “Will you join us?”

  Despite the language barrier, there was understanding in his eyes. He gave a single, firm nod.