Aiyana observed Vandaris as he sat on the cavern’s cold floor. He was diligently drawing on the stone wall with a brittle blue rock that he had chipped away until it was a size he could easily hold in his small hand. A variety of simirly sculpted rocks was arranged neatly beside him, sorted and organized by their various colors. This was one of the few positive aspects of the inhospitable world he was born into; an abundant supply of vibrant stones was scattered throughout the surrounding wastend. One simply had to survive long enough to collect them.

  But survival was the st thing on the young child’s mind; Vandaris was focused solely on his drawing. Apart from listening to Aiyana’s stories about worlds far beyond his grasp and races he would probably never meet, this was his favorite escape. The cave walls were a poor canvas, but he did not mind, as they allowed his self-expression to blossom. Vandaris felt a sense of peace as he brought the images he had seen in his dreams and fantasies to life.

  His mother had called him an artist and had expined that in distant realms, artists possessed the skill to create magnificent images beloved by all who beheld them. Vandaris’s hopes had lifted at this prospect, and his new goal was to transform their dreary cave into a beautiful mural of assorted drawings, even if no one else would ever see it.

  Vandaris had almost completed covering the lower parts of the walls with his artwork, and his next step was to find a suitable stone to stand on so he could draw even higher than his reach permitted. Unfortunately, a persistent obstacle kept limiting his artistic vision: among the various rocks at his side, he did not have green. This made it impossible to recreate Aiyana’s descriptions of vast fields and lush forests.

  However, while wandering the wastend, Vandaris had seen the perfect stones. They were an emerald green, embodying every leaf and bde of grass he had pictured. Even the tree-like creatures scattered around their cave had green eyes protruding from their thorny limbs, strikingly resembling the natural trees Aiyana had described.

  The problem was that these stones were embedded on a ledge deep within a pit. The harsh terrain was fraught with innumerable craters, chasms, trenches, and pits. This one was so wide that Vandaris believed he could jump down, take the stones, and use his angelic wings to escape with ease.

  Sadly, the pit’s walls were lined with tentacles, and at the bottom y an enormous mouth filled with serrated teeth rge enough to impale prey twice Vandaris’s size. Undeterred, he had reassured his mother he would succeed. Unsurprisingly, Aiyana forbade her son from even attempting a descent into such a horrible pce. Red eyes lined the creature’s tentacles, and there was every reason to believe one would snatch Vandaris well before he flew clear of their reach. She knew from painful experience that once one tentacle grabbed hold, the rest were only seconds away. She was not going to risk her child’s life over some rocks, no matter how beautiful they admittedly were.

  But vast fields and expansive forests were not currently on his mind.

  Vandaris’s brow furrowed as he attempted to sketch a peculiar symbol that had materialized on the greatsword. This formidable weapon boasted a bde longer than Aiyana was tall and nearly as broad. It glimmered in the surrounding light and appeared constructed from a metal akin to the silver used in her military issue short sword.

  Aiyana’s short sword had been crafted on Arcadeon, the paradise world orbiting closest to the Divine Light. By combining great skill and divinity, bdesmiths forged padin weapons from raw illuminating silver and veins of orichalcum ore. With these attributes, Arcadeon bdes possessed nearly infinite durability and the power to channel an Enochian’s Divine essence, allowing the steel to glow with radiant light. These were among the fiercest weapons for battling the demonic and the undead.

  Despite being simir in appearance, the greatsword behaved very differently. It occasionally emitted a faint glow, even when no one touched it. Once, when Vandaris had grown upset over his inability to move the enormous weapon, it had burst into fmes, frightening them immensely. Strangely, he had felt the fire’s intensity, but it never burned him, while Aiyana experienced searing pain whenever she touched any part of the sword.

  The greatsword possessed another perplexing trait: glowing runes would spontaneously materialize on the bde before vanishing in the blink of an eye. Vandaris found himself entranced by the weapon, eagerly anticipating one of these enigmatic symbols. Eventually, his patience was rewarded when it finally appeared. Determined to preserve it, he attempted to draw the rune on the cave wall.

  Try as she might, Aiyana had never seen one. Vandaris described them as varying in color and design, with this symbol being a soft blue with its outer edges wreathed in a fiery red. As if sensing her son was finishing his task, Aiyana came over and sat behind Vandaris, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him into a tight hug.

  As much as she hated this world, her son was the brightest ray of light in her life, and she could live here contently as long as they were together. She strived to raise him as a kind and noble man, not only as a gift to Vandaris but also as a symbolic sp across his father’s face. This moment could be her chance to aid her son by solving one of the greatsword’s mysteries.

  Aiyana scrutinized the symbol, but she was at a loss. During her decades of study, she had not come across it before. Enochians were one of the oldest civilizations, and they strove to learn everything they could about each race, world, and magical discipline. They firmly believed knowledge was the most important weapon, even if it could not be used for direct military advantage. So, as a dutiful and accomplished student, information was never withheld from her, at least not that she was aware of.

  Desperate for some vague sembnce of an answer, Aiyana delved deep into her memories. It almost reminded her of a dwarven rune of longevity, but dwarven runes needed to be carved directly into an object and always remained visible. She mented the missed opportunity to enter the otherworldly metropolis of Nol’Valvanse and study under the Arcane elves.

  In years past, the prime consute had chosen Aiyana to fulfill the dual roles of visiting student and auxiliary liaison for their ambassador’s envoy. The Enochians hoped to foster better retions with this potentially valuable ally. Regrettably, the war had been going poorly, and their forces were retreating from the Abyssal worlds they had held for ages. Her studies had ended abruptly, and she was reassigned to the Abyss as a padin conscript. Aiyana had found herself fighting for her life within days.

  She wondered if the key to unlocking the greatsword’s mysteries was hidden within the Arcane elves’ massive assembge of mystical knowledge. After all, the average elven crafter could enchant runes into a variety of objects, keeping them invisible until activated. Yet these symbols revealed themselves sporadically and were of no elven design she had seen. Even her memories pertaining to the secretive art of necromancy yielded nothing of note.

  Aiyana tried to recall all she had learned regarding the Infernal Realm. The symbol seemed vaguely demonic, which pyed into her fears surrounding the weapon’s possible (if not probable) dark nature. Nonetheless, her expertise in the realm of chaos reassured her, as the rune did not match anything she had encountered in her extensive studies or on the battlefield.

  Is my fear of an insidious influence over my son causing me to perceive Infernal signs where none exist? But why would the archdevil leave this weapon if not for a nefarious reason?

  Aiyana remembered the only other symbol her son had managed to describe. The rune had fshed a dark purple, and his description had reminded her of the mystic symbol of velocity. Upon her son’s inquiry, she had expined that the velocity rune would come into effect once the wielder generated enough speed, resulting in greater force upon impact.

  She had little faith that this new symbol was elvish, and her confusion grew with each additional sliver of information. Complicating things further, only Vandaris could perceive these runes, leaving Aiyana helpless in unraveling this enigma alone. This bde was unique, and the more she learned about it, the more distrustful she became.

  “Mom, do you recognize it?”

  “No, my sweet boy. I’m sorry, but it looks like nothing I’ve ever seen.” The disappointment on his face was evident, and she felt an overwhelming need to comfort him. “You did a beautiful job. Your picture was very helpful, and I’m sure we will eventually solve this puzzle. I just need more time, and perhaps you will see another symbol that I’ll recognize.”

  Aiyana decided it was best not to reveal her suspicions at this time. She was careful to limit what she told him about his Infernal father. Even though Vandaris had a variation of the archdevil’s bck horns, he had her Enochian eyes, meaning his future was still his own. She could see the beauty of both their souls shining through his golden eyes, and she would protect his innocence with her life.

  She considered the cursed fate of the Nephalem. They were perceived as raging monsters and reviled as the ultimate symbol of viotion and corruption. Fortunately, they were rare due to Enochian men often being physically incapable of performing. Much to the confusion of their demonic jailers, torture and sadism failed to increase their prisoner’s arousal. Tragically, captured Enochian women almost never survived giving birth, usually taking the child with them in a gruesome death.

  Aiyana shuddered as she recalled Vandaris’s horns puncturing and tearing through her. No matter how much she bled, that accursed bck smoke refused to allow her to die, leaving her to wonder what the dark entity was. Even with its nature in question, it was evident the twisted minds of the Infernal Realm had found a way to bypass her physical limitations. Aiyana cringed as she pictured other captured Enochian women forced to birth an army of Nephalem.

  The rarity of beings like Vandaris meant the extent of their abilities was not fully understood, but as Nephalem matured, they could wield much of the power of the Infernal and the Divine. Their most troubling aspect was the division within their souls that caused their sanity to fracture as they waged an unending internal war. The essences of harmony and chaos pulled them in two, and inevitably, madness swallowed their minds. Nephalems were living weapons of incredible destructive power, and any time padins were called upon to bring one of these cursed beings down, many brave soldiers died. Aiyana was determined not to allow such a fate to befall her son.

  By giving Vandaris a portion of her soul, Aiyana had helped confine the evil within him. There, it remained, trapped within a prison of love and sacrifice. After seeing his kind nature, she was confident he would hold back this inner darkness and become a beacon of hope instead of a tormented weapon. She gazed at the child in her arms, and upon seeing the disappointment still evident on Vandaris’s face, she hugged him even tighter while vishing more praise.

  “This was truly wonderful! I am so proud of you for having the patience to wait for this rune and then draw it so beautifully. You have an amazing memory. I will look at this again before I fall asleep. Hopefully, an answer will come to me in my dreams.” Aiyana could see her son show the beginnings of a smile, so she decided now would be the perfect time to give Vandaris the gift she had obtained while he slept. “Wait here, love. I have something for you.”

  She rummaged through the pile of monstrous hides that served as her bed and retrieved three bright green stones.

  His face lit up. “But you told me it was too dangerous for us to get them!”

  Aiyana grinned and shook her head. “I said it was too dangerous for you to retrieve them. I will admit, I second-guessed myself when I saw how rge the creature’s mouth was. So I flew in as fast as I could and cut off its thickest tentacle. As it withdrew deeper into the pit, I grabbed the three biggest stones and flew away.”

  Vandaris smiled up at his mother. She had risked her life to bring him this gift, yet the thought of any harm befalling her was beyond his comprehension. In his eyes, she embodied an indomitable spirit and was an inspiration for who he dreamed of becoming.

  Unflinching bravery could be a detriment if not tempered with reason, so from the time Vandaris had learned to talk, Aiyana instilled in him that everything in this world wanted to eat him. She hated frightening him at such a young age, but he had to learn that he must always be cautious. Vigince was the key to one’s survival, and she knew harsh words hurt less than a brutal death.

  Aiyana hovered while Vandaris began drawing trees within his mural. She loved seeing her boy fill the cavern walls with crude yet beautifully innocent depictions of life. However, his happiness was not her sole motivation, and while Vandaris continued his work, she would remain watchful. Aiyana carefully examined anything he drew, attempting to detect any dark influences manifesting in his art. She was under no delusions regarding the inevitable war brewing within his soul, and when that day came, she was determined to help him win.

  ?????

  As time went by, Aiyana watched Vandaris grow. He was nearly as tall as she was, making her wonder what had happened to the little boy who had stood barely chest high, coloring on the cavern walls. Gone were those times, and now Vandaris wished only to hunt and train. And as her son matured, he learned to navigate the dangerous world.

  Aiyana wished she knew precisely how old he was, but neither day nor night existed within the Abyss, leaving her with a vague estimate of the passing of years. This forced her to gauge the progression of time almost solely by his growth.

  Despite the isotion of her long imprisonment within the cave being over, the relentless absence of time would have inevitably broken the remnants of her sanity. If it were not for Vandaris, she would have been truly lost.

  The two sat together, ughed together, and shared their meals together. Even though Vandaris could not pull the greatsword from the rocky floor, his touch could summon its fmes. This made cooking their prey effortless, eliminating the need to gather the wooden flesh from the tree-like creatures dotting the ndscape.

  They ate their meat rare, needing the moisture within the Abyssal creatures to survive. It never rained upon this world, but they often came across tepid pools of fetid fluid that welled from deep underground, and choked down what they could. They attempted to boil the foul liquid, but the wooden flesh burned too quickly, and the fmes of the vertical bde failed to offer a viable solution. In spite of their hardships, they worked together happily.

  Every member of the Divine army trained for survival within the Abyss, and once Vandaris was old enough, Aiyana taught him what she knew. She still had her short sword and shield, but the remnants of her armor were nowhere to be found. They crafted clothing from monster hides, hollowing out the ends of tooth shards to use as needles as they stitched the pieces together using the finest strips of the softest hides they could find. Lacking the means to create leather, their clothes did not st long, but they had abundant time and prey to fashion new makeshift garments. They ground wide divots into stones, creating crude bowls, and searched endlessly for anything they could forage.

  Outside their cave, Aiyana trained Vandaris with her short sword, the only weapon he was strong enough to wield. He learned to perfect his thrusts and sshes as he tried to skirt her tower shield. She challenged him by throwing rocks with ever-increasing speed, honing his reflexes as he deflected or sliced them in two.

  They focused on the martial disciplines taught to every padin. Vandaris learned to use his opponent’s momentum against them while delivering maximum force to an enemy’s most vulnerable points. When he was old enough to don her shield, Aiyana thrust powerful kicks into it, knocking him over before he mastered how to brace himself. Once she deemed him competent in each lesson, they materialized their wings and took to the sky, putting what they had learned into practice so Vandaris could someday become a powerful force on the nd and in the air.

  Minor injuries came often, and Aiyana either healed Vandaris or had him continue training so he could learn to fight through the pain. During one session, she accidentally broke his humerus when she smmed her shield into him. He clutched the injured site, and out of either reflex or some innate knowledge, his hand began to glow. Aiyana had watched in amazement as Vandaris healed himself. His arm was soon functional, but the injury was severe, so she healed him again and decided he had had enough training for the time being.

  What other powers do you have hidden, Vandaris?

  Despite his desire to focus solely on combat, Aiyana held Vandaris to his studies, and she spent as much of their time on education as she did on training. She imparted to him the history and customs of the Divine Realm, along with mathematics and the written word. She tried her best to emute the wisest preceptors of her past and pnned his lessons carefully. Aiyana stressed that he remained focused during his studies, believing firmly in the mental disciplines of the trivium: the study of grammar, rhetoric, and logic. She believed this would be the best path toward helping her son grow into the thoughtful and grounded man she knew he could become.

  Fortunately, Vandaris was a good student. He diligently scratched the Enochian alphabet into the dirt outside their cave and tackled increasingly complex equations under his mother’s watchful and encouraging eye. At times his mind wandered, occasionally hindering their lessons. She found herself loving him all the more for it, often asking him to share whatever fanciful daydream he was lost in while taking joy in the complexities of his imagination.

  Vandaris was learning so quickly that Aiyana also taught him the common tongue, which had proliferated throughout the different realms. Superficially, there was little need for such lessons, yet she held out hope they would someday escape this terrible world. Should that day come, it was impossible to know where they would end up.

  While Aiyana coached Vandaris on the prefixes and suffixes of the different nguages, a deep concern haunted her; she wondered if any other Enochians were left to speak to. Had the Infernal army won the great battle? The notion that the Divine Realm no longer existed was too horrible to consider, but she could not escape her fears. The weight of this uncertainty left her with an enduring feeling of dread.

  This fear motivated her to focus much of Vandaris’s physical training on sying the denizens of the Infernal Realms. Yet as they bored, Aiyana continued giving only the vaguest of answers when he inquired about the nature of these creatures. But as his body grew, so did his desire for this hidden knowledge, and the time finally came when she conceded.

  “All right. I suppose you’re old enough. Are you sure you truly want to know?” Aiyana asked, teasing him as she swung her sword at his feet.

  “Yes! Please!”

  Vandaris jumped over the bde and unched a kick at her head. Aiyana swiftly dropped to her knees and leaned back in time to dodge his foot. She seized his leg, twisting it, and Vandaris spun, nding on his back. He rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding her fist as it smmed into the ground. He then leaped to his feet, poised and ready.

  “We can turn this into a mental exercise. Let’s see if you can maintain your focus on both the physical and the mental.” Aiyana squared up to Vandaris. She slowly circled him, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. “Where should I start? All stories have a beginning, but when does a beginning truly begin? Well, according to the archangels, who use Divine divination to transcend space and time, powerful energies appeared within the Abyss eons ago. Some were chaotic, contracting and expanding violently, while others pulsed in beautiful harmony. The most chaotic energies eventually formed the Infernal Realm, and from this hellscape came a new race. They were a savage and malevolent form of life who hated all living things, especially their own kind. We have never learned their true names, but the races who followed refer to them as Fiends.”

  “Are they simir to the monsters here? Have you fought one?” Vandaris asked.

  Aiyana took this moment to thrust a kick toward his chest, but like his mother, he dropped and her foot narrowly missed his face.

  “Have patience, and let me continue,” she said with a grin. “Where was I? Right! So, there was never a more fitting name for such an irredeemable race. And as the other realms formed within the Abyss, the Fiends warred for greater dominion over the nightmarish pnets within the Infernal Realm. They unleashed all the powers bestowed upon them by the primordial chaos that gave them life. Because of their fury and apocalyptic might, their war eventually shattered their worlds into many pieces, transforming them into a fractured domain.”

  If what I saw was real, then by the Divine, what unbelievable power it must have taken to break those pnets so savagely.

  Aiyana charged at Vandaris and threw a punch at his head. He blocked it easily, but with this distraction, she drove the pommel of her sword into his gut. Vandaris gasped and doubled over. He looked up to see his mother wagging her finger, yet her encouraging smile remained. While he struggled to his feet, she continued the story.

  “As their war raged on, there was an incredible fsh, and a singur pure light was born.”

  “The Divine Light!” he wheezed.

  “Yes! The energies embodying the purest form of harmony had finished uniting, and beautiful pure light flooded into the Abyss, even reaching the distant Infernal Realm. As the light touched the remaining Fiends, they found it burned with an intensity beyond even the powers they had unleashed upon one another. Some were incinerated instantly, while others survived by crawling into any cave or crevice they could find. They burrowed deep within the broken segments of their chaotic realm to ensure the light would never find them. There, they cowered in the dark, cursing their fate.”

  Vandaris readied himself for an attack that did not come. Aiyana stood as motionless as an elegant sculpture while her golden hair swayed in the breeze. She stared into the distance, lost in thought.

  “Until they extinguished the Divine Light, the Fiends would dedicate their existence to its destruction. They needed an army that could go forth and carry out their will. So, trapped within their dark pits, they discovered how to create life by twisting and molding the realm itself. And thus the demonic legions were born.”

  “Is that when the Enochians were created? You told me it was to fight the great war.”

  “That’s right, love. But that is a story for another time.”

  “Someday, when we meet the Enochians, will my training allow me to fight in their army?”

  Aiyana’s stomach tightened. This was not the first time Vandaris had mentioned a desire to meet her people. She had casually changed the subject on such occasions, but his questioning was becoming more frequent and direct.

  “Vandaris.” Aiyana approached and pced a hand on his shoulder. “It pains me deeply to say this, but the Enochians will not see you as one of them. They may even try to harm you.”

  “Why would they harm me? I’m an ally. I want to help them.”

  “Because of who your father is.”

  The devastated look on Vandaris’s face broke her heart, but she could not let him live in such a dangerous delusion forever. He gently pulled away and turned his back to her.

  “You mentioned that I may have to fight the fallen angels someday.” Beams of light emanated from Vandaris’s back and transformed into wings. He extended them to their fullest; his feathers were a stunning, angelic white, but their shafts and quills flickered and glowed with a soft reddish-orange like the embers of a dying fire. “Is my father a fallen angel?”

  If only that were so, Vandaris. But your father is so much worse.

  “No, my sweet boy. And your wings are far too beautiful to compare them. Your father is—” Aiyana paused, deciding to hold her tongue. “Also a story for another day.”

  Vandaris sighed, his disappointment emanating from him like waves. He dematerialized his wings and silently conceded. He had tried his entire life to pry answers from her but had learned she would only reveal them when ready.

  “Are we done training?” he asked.

  “Yes, I believe so. Why don’t you go and cook some of the meat?”

  Vandaris nodded, and Aiyana watched him run toward the cave. She desperately wanted to tell him everything but feared that doing so would end what remained of his precious childhood—a childhood she found herself treasuring more than anything.

  She sat on a nearby boulder and gazed at the soft green sky. Even though they had not trained for long, she was exhausted.

  Aiyana had been hiding it well, but of te, her energy was not what it used to be. Throughout her deployment within the Abyss, she had sensed the gentle warmth of the Divine Light touching her soul. Yet here, she felt nothing. Had it been extinguished, or were they so far away that she was beyond its reach?

  ?????

  With the passing of unknowable years, Vandaris was now slightly taller than his mother. He was finally strong enough to wield the short sword and shield simultaneously, but he still failed to pull the greatsword from the cavern floor. New symbols had appeared on the weapon, vanishing as quickly and mysteriously as before. Vandaris had carefully drawn everything he saw on the cavern wall, but Aiyana was unable to recognize a single one.

  His ability to heal had improved, and he could summon fire with his hands. Initially, the fmes were small, little more than a flicker, but he learned to harness this power with practice. Now, Vandaris could send forth short streams of fire before expending his energy.

  This newfound ability had already saved his life when a tentacle wrapped around his ankle and pulled him to the ground. With no weapon in hand, he had found himself helpless as it dragged him toward whatever hidden creature had deemed him its next meal. Out of instinct, Vandaris grabbed the tentacle and set it abze, withering its flesh. It immediately released him and retreated without its prize.

  As Vandaris grew, Aiyana watched with pride. The bond they shared made all the hardships worth enduring, and she was starting to glimpse the man he would become. He was growing more confident, yet he banced this trait with patience, an attribute she had mainly seen dispyed in people far beyond his years. With her son in her life, even the most uneventful days were an adventure.

  However, she had been growing weaker. Keeping up with Vandaris became a struggle, and she required far more sleep. They trained less frequently, and she needed to take rest breaks often. It felt as if her life was draining away, and the process was accelerating.

  Aiyana’s fatigue became so severe it forced her to stop training. She remained within their cave, only able to venture out with Vandaris’s aid. During her few waking hours, she still enjoyed regaling him with all the tales he loved as a child. Sadly, her narration often drifted into a waking dream, or she would intertwine elements from different stories, occasionally forgetting what she was saying completely.

  Vandaris sat by Aiyana’s side with his face buried in his hands. His perceptions blurred as his bewildered mind tried to cope with the absence of coherent thought. But he could not linger in abstract nothingness for too long: his mother needed him. He leaned back, resting against the cold stone wall, and willed his consciousness into lucidity.

  Vandaris watched over Aiyana as she slept. She had always been fair-skinned, but all the color had drained from her complexion. She opened her eyes and smiled at the hazy image of her son. Even the brightness of her golden irises had dimmed, leaving her with a hollow look that filled him with dread.

  “Please help me up, Vandaris. It’s time we talk. While my head is clear.”

  Her hoarse and raspy voice left Vandaris shaken. He gently helped her sit up, then sat before her with his legs crossed.

  “We must discuss the nature of your birth. You have asked many questions, and I have avoided giving you many of those answers. I wanted to wait until you were older, but I’m afraid time is not on our side.” Aiyana paused as she collected her thoughts. “You are what is known as a Nephalem, half-Enochian and half-devil, making you more than simply my son. By extension, you are the child of the Divine Light and the Infernal Realm. Also, your… shall we say father, is not a common devil but an archdevil. His kind serve as mighty overlords, second in power only to their dark creators. So, your abilities will possibly grow beyond any other Nephalem.”

  “Am I dangerous?” Vandaris asked, panic creeping into his voice.

  “There is that possibility, but you don’t have to be.” Aiyana pced her hand on his cheek. Her palm felt cold, so chillingly cold he almost instinctively pulled away. Yet the mere touch of her hand was a blessing he desperately needed.

  “Vandaris,” Aiyana continued. “There are two halves to your soul—one side embodies light, and the other, darkness. When the archdevil captured me, he sent some form of living smoke into my body, and while you were growing within my womb, it tried to corrupt you. To protect you, I gave you a portion of my soul. Our combined spirits were strong enough to surround your darker half and trap it. However, you need to know a great threat lurks inside you. Promise me you will do everything possible to fight against any malice, anger, or greed you may feel building within you. Promise me you will resist anyone or anything from the Infernal Realm that tries to persuade you to become anyone other than my wonderful son.”

  Vandaris nodded. “I will, Mom. I promise I will live by your teachings and behave honorably. But what is happening to you?”

  Aiyana took a deep breath. This would be the most painful truth Vandaris would have to hear. Something that had gripped her with despair but was now forced to accept.

  “When the Divine Light came into being, it not only drove the greatest evil deep into the lightless pits of their realm, it also nourished all that is good. I have been without the Divine Light for years, and in all this time, I have not felt its nourishing warmth. Normally, an Enochian can survive while separated from the Light, but without the entirety of my soul, I fear I’m fading away.”

  “So this is because of me? Can I give you that part of your soul back?” Vandaris asked desperately.

  “No, my sweet son. It doesn’t work that way. Once they have merged, well, what’s been done cannot be undone. And it was never your fault. It was my choice. Please remember, no matter what happens, a part of me will always be with you, and you will always be loved.”

  He sat in silence, staring at the floor. He attempted to process everything his mother had told him, but these revetions were overwhelming.

  “You have so much to think about, and I’m famished. Could you bring me something to eat?” Aiyana asked.

  Vandaris nodded and left her side. He grabbed the meat from his recent hunt and grasped the greatsword’s hilt. The bde bzed to life, and his mind wandered as the creature’s flesh sizzled against the fming sword. When he returned, she had fallen into a deep sleep, and he was afraid to wake her.

  Although it seemed like an eternity had passed within the silent cave, it had only been a few days. Aiyana had remained unconscious, and her drying skin was starting to fke off. Vandaris sat near her, consumed by panic as his thoughts raced, searching for solutions to a problem he did not fully comprehend. Thankfully, she began to stir. He immediately crawled to her, desperate for anything that proved she was still with him.

  Aiyana moved her lips, attempting to speak, but she could no longer form words. The gold was extinguished from her vacant eyes, and she could only discern the faintest outline of her son’s form. She gestured for Vandaris to help her up, and he carefully did as more of her brittle skin fell to the floor. They knelt before one another, and Aiyana hugged him as tightly as she could with her frail, trembling arms. She leaned back and smiled at Vandaris as a tear rolled down her cheek. She then silently mouthed the words, “I love you.”

  “I love you too,” he said, praying she could still hear him.

  He sobbed uncontrolbly; his bored breaths became erratic as an overwhelming mixture of panic, pain, and confusion gripped him. It was then Aiyana began to crumble before his eyes.

  Vandaris felt her hands turn to dust on his shoulders. Her beautiful face deteriorated, sinking inward, leaving what was left of her head to roll forward and fall to the floor. It broke apart as it nded, and her brittle body fell to pieces soon after, creating a cloud of dust that lingered within the windless tunnel. Vandaris did not react. He simply knelt there, trembling as tears flowed down his face. He couldn’t move or even think as his life crumbled with her.