”To die or not to die? I had this question at the end. I chose both.” ~Zerax’thum, the Fallen Dragon

  The only evidence Frein had to distinguish the sight before him as being an eye, rather than endless flowing magma, was the motion of the eyelid opening. It was an odd sight. Darkness, riddled by the distant twinkling of stars, wiped away as a flaming eye stared at him.

  To call it an eye was apt, but an infinite wall could also be appropriate. The scale alone was giving Frein a hard time believing such a thing could exist. As if the knowledge that he was staring back into an eye of flame, far larger than planets, was impossible for him to digest.

  And yet, he believed it. He might not see the ends of the eye, or the eyelid that reflected the stars, he might be staring at a slit pupil that could fit billions of himself, but not a strand of doubt filled his heart.

  The question he had instead was: Am I in space?

  “Yes,” answered the eye.

  Again, Frein found himself unsurprised. And he believed that the eye of flame had answered his internal question.

  “Are you Zerax’thum?” he asked. His words did not carry sound, but he knew they were delivered nonetheless.

  “I was.”

  “Was?”

  “I’m dead,” the eye replied. Its voice was heavy, deep, and smooth at the same time. Like a well-aged liquor from the finest of grapes. “Did Brymeia not tell you that?”

  “She said you’re somewhere in between.”

  The eye rumbled as it considered the statement.

  “She’s not wrong. But to refer to myself in the past tense, for I was Zerax’thum, is the appropriate course of action here.”

  “I’m not here to debate whether you’re still alive or not, am I?”

  “No. You’re here because of the Fragment.”

  Frein crossed his arms while he willed himself to float backwards in order to get a better view of the eye. No matter how much he craned his neck upwards, he could only see the ends of the flame curving out into the horizon.

  Only then did it hit Frein that Zerax’thum had confirmed he was in space. And then the realization hit him as he tried to take a breath. He couldn’t. But he was still alive. And in a cascade of thought, he also figured out how he was speaking through his mind.

  “Am I dreaming?”

  While Frein thought the same, the question came from Elizzel instead. He turned to find the faunel staring at the eye in awe.

  “Hello, Elizzel,” said Zerax’thum. The joy in his voice made a ripple in space. “Although you might not remember much about me, it’s nice to see a familiar face.”

  “Father,” she said with a deep sigh. “I thought you were dead. We thought you were dead.”

  “I was,” he replied. “I am.”

  “This is a little confusing for me,” Frein interjected. “Not just the death thing. Everything. Am I just talking to an eye, or what?”

  “You cannot see the rest of me, for I am a Prismatic Dragon, Frein. I reflect light and darkness in accordance to my whims. Granted, this is not the reason you cannot see the rest of me, for I am much larger than you can possibly comprehend.”

  “Put it in simple words then.”

  “How about you simply look down instead?” After a pause, the Stellar clarified. “Down is between your feet, slightly behind you.”

  Frein and Elizzel did as instructed in unison, and the sight before them was much more mind-boggling than comprehending looking at an eye of flame the size of a planet. For a moment, they forgot to look at anything else.

  Much like the unexplainable belief of knowing about the eye, Frein realized he was looking at Brymeia, the planet. Blue were the oceans, green were the lands, white were the clouds, and rotting were the Nightmare. Within the center of it, he was certain, was The Nothing. A black void where the ocean perpetually fell. The lands around it were carved, as if pushed away by an otherworldly force, or whatever caused this gaping hole to appear.

  If that wasn’t enough, from space, he could see a spider, crawling along the clouds. From where he was, it looked small, but Frein knew how scale worked… Or at least, he thought he knew. Strictly eyeballing what he was looking at, he guessed the spider was at least as large as Central.

  A glint of light passed through the world as Frein observed the spider. It helped him focus on what he should be truly seeing.

  Something enveloped Brymeia. Something huge. He was running out of words to describe anything colossal at this point. Frein was only sure it was larger than whatever sphere Admiral Garm had shown him back in the Atlas Sid.

  He turned to figure out the shape. It was an arm, and over it was a wing. In fact, arms, legs, and wings, coiled around the world. He could make out the length of the body wrapping around it. A dragon’s body. Serpentine in form, it looked like one of the lóngs he had read back on Earth.

  From there, Frein couldn’t help but look all around, floating away to get a wider view. He didn’t care to know how he did it, or if it was safe to do so. He wanted to see the entire thing.

  The Visitor saw five pairs of wings, and he assumed there were probably more, invisible to his sight. Ten tails. Arms and legs, far too many for him to count. But there was only one head. The shimmering of the dragon’s scales made it next to impossible to determine exactly what was what.

  The scale of the head became clear to Frein as he zoomed out. The eye alone was comparable to Brymeia. If he had wanted, Zerax’thum could’ve swallowed the world whole.

  “So you see,” the Stellar began, “I’m not just an eye.”

  “You’re protecting her,” Frein said. He saw scratches on the dragon’s scales. And as if to prove his point, the Visitor bumped into something hard.

  He turned and saw nothing but darkness, until Zerax’thum provided him light.

  He had bumped into a bone in space. A bone as large as a building. The Stellar was generous enough to give him more light, then he saw the entire skeleton.

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  “A dead god,” Zerax’thum said. “One of the seventeen arrogant enough to steal Brymeia’s power.”

  “Seventeen?” Elizzel asked. “We had seventeen gods?”

  “Twenty-three,” the Stellar replied. He turned around, providing light among the darkness to reveal seventeen more skeletons. Not all of them were humanoid, but all of them were dead. “The final six were smart enough to hide.”

  “You killed all the gods,” Frein concluded. Realization had hit him hard. “The Divine Severing was just a cover story. You were hunting them down.”

  “Not me,” Zerax’thum said. “Not all of them.”

  “Me,” a voice said.

  From the Tether, Frein could feel Elizzel’s heart skip a beat. They both turned, and saw Kristella—No…

  “Evangeline,” the faunel cried, launching herself carelessly towards her lover’s arms. “How?”

  “Through me,” said Schrodie. She was an empty entity this time. No form, no shape, only presence. As if…

  “Evanclad!” Frein exclaimed, remembering how the First Monarch appeared before him inside Kristel’s Dream Realm.

  “It’s not much of a shock now, is it?” the Gatekeeper said. “And it’s not just me.”

  “Hello, Frein,” said another disembodied voice. A woman’s. Caring and loving, as any mother would address their beloved son. “It’s nice to finally meet you properly this time.”

  Frein took a guess. “Mineltha, I presume?”

  “Indeed, I am,” she replied. “My husband and I united as one, and created Schrodie, the Gatekeeper. Which lets us appear as both man and woman at the same time.”

  There were too many dots connecting at the same time, and Frein was struggling to keep up. His Mind Palace was hard at work, drawing up canvases to immortalize his memories.

  “So, you hunted down the gods? With the help of Brymeia’s heroes?” he asked.

  “There’s a lot for you to digest, Visitor,” Evanclad said. “How about we take Elizzel for a while, so you can talk alone with Zerax’thum?”

  “You’re not taking her away, are you? Like the heroes you took from Brymeia.”

  “Of course not, dear,” Mineltha said. “Eli is like a daughter to us. Well, she was like a mother at first, but then I eventually looked older than her. And with the memories she kept giving away, we eventually had to take care of her. As Schrodie, of course.”

  “I’ll go catch up with them, Frein,” Elizzel said, her arms wrapped around Evangeline. “I’ll be back, I promise.”

  “Wait,” Frein said. Elizzel was quick to frown, but he was quicker to clarify. “No, I mean, alright, you can go, Eli. I’m just wondering where Kristella is. I would’ve expected the entire family.”

  “She’s busy,” Evanclad said. And as if to prove his point, a large explosion, one that looked like a supernova in space, erupted from extremely far away. “That’s her.”

  “Oh… Alright, then.”

  Frein waved the others goodbye before returning his attention to Zerax’thum. The Stellar was solemn. He had ignored the reunion, and had focused his attention towards the planet, observing the spider.

  “Who’s that,” Frein asked.

  “Velruzenshup’nertoroliz,” Zerax’thum replied slowly, enunciating each syllable with care. “A Spider In the Sky. A Deep Nightmare, which became a Sealed One, and is very much interested in you.”

  “Why?”

  “Better to ask him.” Zerax’thum turned his eye of flame towards Frein. “Matters of privacy are a rare commodity for those who can see Destiny, Frein. Whether with evil intent or not, it’s not in my nature to spill everyone’s secrets.”

  “Fair enough,” Frein conceded. “Why am I here?”

  “Because of the Fragment.”

  “I mean, why have Visitors?”

  “So you can Gather the Fragments and rid Brymeia of the Nightmare. You already figured these all out, Frein. Why bother asking?”

  “Confirmation,” he replied. “It’s nice to finally not be rejected for seeking the truth for once.”

  “Yes,” Zerax’thum said. “It’s a liberating, yet anti-climactic feeling.”

  “Brymeia said I fulfilled my Contradiction’s condition. But before I came here, I felt like dying.”

  “You did fulfill your condition, Frein. You will return and recover once you’re done integrating with my Fragment and Alphazzel’s core.”

  “Does that mean I still have my entire year?”

  “If you survive for that long, yes.”

  “Why have that condition?” Frein asked, finally. He had been holding on to that question for the longest time. And this time, he wouldn’t accept a rejection for an answer.

  “Brymeia already told you of a few reasons,” Zerax’thum started. “You cannot survive in the world’s atmosphere for long. This is true. You also cannot survive after fulfilling your Destiny and Gathering a Fragment. This was true until Schrodie came up with his plan to invest more of himself in my meiyal system. The condition was also there so that no other Stellar will have any interest in you, not even Brymeia. Interest, in a sense of pulling your Destiny away from me.”

  “But there’s more,” Frein implied. “There’s a more definite reason, right?”

  “Two. Yes.”

  “Tell me.”

  “These reasons will only ever apply to the Visitor. One, we needed to find people who were willing to give up their lives. Not in a sense of helplessness or despair, we were not looking for people looking for a way out. But we were looking for people who were crazy enough to not care for their lives, but care for others. This is a trait of yours, is it not?”

  Frein couldn’t argue with it. He simply nodded.

  “The second reason was only recent. We needed to find one who would eventually change their mind. To wish to not die in a year. Be desperate to find a way to extend their lives, but not to return to their own world. And not for themselves, but for others. Because they’ve fallen in love with someone from Brymeia. Only that Visitor has enough determination to actually fulfill our cause. Someone who is as dedicated as I am towards her.”

  Frein’s jaw slacked open.

  “So, Frein. Are you this person? Or do you still truly wish to die after a year?”

  The Visitor’s mind raced. It caused him to hesitate. But he knew in his heart, he didn’t wish to die. He wanted to stay. For as long as possible.

  “I don’t want to die,” he answered.

  “This, you already know how to surpass,” Zerax’thum said.

  “But we don’t have a god to help me ascend. Elizzel said not all of them died, but if you chased the remaining six away…” Frein connected two and two together. He felt silly not realizing it sooner. “You’re going to help me.”

  “That’s the reason why you’re here, Frein.” Zerax’thum’s eye intensified. “I will train you to become a Worldborn. It’ll be a grueling task. Given your potential and ability to learn, I say a year would be enough. Then you must Gather the rest of the Fragments so you can become a Deitar.”

  “I don’t have a year,” Frein rebutted. He knew this was not a mistake on the Stellar’s end, but he wanted more clarification.

  “Ah, yes. Out here, you are outside of time. I hold the Concepts of Space and Time… Or at least, I held it once. It’s a complicated matter. The important part is that a year with me is a few days in Brymeia.”

  “What about Eli?” he asked.

  “She will return to Brymeia to inform your friends and loved ones that you are in good condition. Schrodie is already seeing to that as we speak.”

  Frein agreed to the plan. “But if I become a Worldborn, I’ll be the strongest there is in Brymeia.”

  “Are you sure?” Zerax’thum asked. “Remember, long before you were even born, Worldborns and Deitars and gods were already having difficulties dealing with the Nightmare Lands, the Void Region. Even with the establishment of the Order of the Void, they could not cleanse Brymeia.”

  “The Nightmares we’ve fought,” Frein began, “they’re just the tip of the iceberg, aren’t they?”

  “You have not even fought anything comparable to the tip.” Zerax’thum turned his head slowly. “What do you think would happen if a Nightmare is capable of reason and thought? A sentient being determined to make your life a living nightmare?”

  “I’ve read a lot of things the Order had written down,” Frein started. “Except maybe for Velruzen over there, none of them said anything about a sentient Nightmare.”

  “Who said they were coming from Brymeia?”

  It clicked. But before he could even think of the other Stellar’s name, Zerax’thum was quick to stop him.

  “We’re not in a Dream Realm, Frein.”

  The Visitor nodded. “Alright. Then train me.”

  “It’s a year of hardship, Frein. You might think of me as company, but without your friends, you will feel truly alone.”

  He smiled. “I’ve had worse.”

  Frein might’ve imagined it, but he thought Zerax’thum sighed.

  “Magnificent. I shall call Schrodie back so you may say your goodbyes to Eli. For them, it’ll be only a few days. But a lot of things can change for a man such as yourself in just a year. Be sure to not forget them.”

  This time, Zerax’thum blinked. For a moment, everything was dark. As if his eyes were the sun.

  No, that can’t be true. Frein only had to look around to find the actual star that served as Brymeia’s sun. It was distant, but it didn’t have the colors he expected it to have. Bright white was all it was.

  “They are on their way,” said the Stellar.

  Frein was already distracted by the sun. “How?”

  “Hmm?”

  “The sun here is pure white,” he started. “But in Brymeia, the sunlight changes colors.”

  Frein didn’t wait for the Stellar to answer, nor did he want him to do so. The Visitor observed once more. And he quickly found what he was looking for.

  It was Zerax’thum’s scales. A prismatic dragon, reflecting light as he pleased.

  That was one mystery solved. And Frein was sure the people back on Brymeia wouldn’t believe his discovery. He was fine with that.

  “Are you sure you’re going to train?” Zerax’thum pondered. “You’re not going to just pester me with questions, are you?”

  “Oh, you better be ready, Stellar,” Frein replied, his smile ear to ear. “You’re going to tell me everything you know.”

  This time he was sure that the dragon, larger than a planet, made a deep, exasperated sigh.

  See you on the next release!

  Shall Allren

  Scathing Reviewer!