The instant Flyte woke up, he noticed that his mask was gone. He scrambled up to look for it, only to find that it lay beside him.

  He was sore all over, the feeling easily dwarfing any previous aches Flyte had. Seeing Ander moving, he began to think. And remembered.

  "My father is dead."

  The words had barely been a whisper, but Ander looked back to him, his expression a look of pity. "Yes."

  "I want to go home," Flyte said. Then, thought a moment longer. "I have no home."

  The young half elf did not have tears left to shed, between the pains of poison and his previous mourning, which he had only just remembered.

  "Flyte," Ander began. "You'll always have a home with us in Lion's Watch. You'd not even need to say the word."

  Maybe he could. Hopefully. Flyte felt that he'd have to see what else would happen at this Scar before committing, but he nodded along slowly before beginning to put his gear back on.

  Ander patted Flyte on the back. "I'm here with you, so take as long as you need to. I can trust my army with Eris and Caedric, so there's no need to rush yourself."

  "This won't end until Will gives up or is dead," Flyte answered. "And if we let someone else clean up this mess of ours, then our whole journey here will have been pointless."

  Nodding, Ander compromised. "If that's how you feel, fine, but let's at least wait for more of our allies to wake up."

  "I'll give them five more minutes," Flyte relented. "But I can't give them more. People are dying."

  "I understand," Ander said. After a few seconds, he resumed speaking. "Just remember, you didn't force anyone here to fight. They chose to."

  "I don't say that as a means to blame them for their deaths. It's just that in my years fighting, keeping that in mind will help you sleep at night."

  Flyte nodded. He had a feeling he wouldn't be able to sleep either way.

  He and Ander sat watching the battle commence as they waited. Flyte was running on the bare minimum amount of energy, but that didn't stop him from being antsy. He hated sitting and watching people, who he would even consider friends, fighting.

  "Ugh," Elliot got up with a hand on his face. "Why am I on the ground?"

  "I'm glad you're away Elliot," Ander said. "Flyte and I were thinking of going and ending the fight, if you'd like to join us."

  "Yeah sure," Elliot said. "But first I need to get some... Sorry. I lost my train of thought. Give me a moment to think."

  The two gave their friend some time to think, but after nearly a minute, they had received no answer.

  "Hey Elliot?" Ander began. "Do you remember what you needed?"

  "Oh!" Elliot exclaimed. "Sorry, I zoned out earlier, but I need some new swords."

  "Okay, I'll get right on that," Ander said. "Flyte, do you think you could heal Elliot? I think he's got a head injury."

  "Sure thing," Flyte answered. He called to Glow through the rune they shared, as he was trying to conserve as much energy as possible, and she was a better healer than him anyway.

  The healing spirit floated in slowly, seeming to stumble through the air as she was fainter and less bubbly than ever.

  "Hey Flyte," Glow whistled lowly. "How can I help you?"

  "I was going to ask you to heal Elliot," Flyte said, jarred. "But what happened to you? Are you okay?"

  Glow seemed to smile, but it was hard to tell. She was so feeble that she wasn't in the tiny, womanly form she loved to use. "I'm fine. I've just used... too much grym."

  "Wait," Flyte paused. "You use grym?"

  Glow seemed to laugh with good humor, but it was a touch too pitiable to bring a smile to Flyte's lips. "Of course! That's what we spirits get for giving you magic. We make some ourselves, or course, but it's nowhere near the rate you living people do."

  Flyte brought his friend into a hug. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know what I was asking from you. I'll go ahead and heal Elliot; you just go and rest."

  "No!" Glow burst past Flyte and healed Elliot.

  Flyte blinked a few times. "Just... why?"

  "I don't want to be made useless," Glow whistled, a little bit bashfully.

  "Glow," Flyte began. "I don't mind having you around. Even just having you to talk to helps me out."

  "And you don't need to give me every single moment. Between the two of us, I've got to be more useless if I let you get hurt or exact something from you, so please, for me, get some rest."

  "Fine, fine," Glow whistled, "You win."

  The healing spirit went back through her summoning rune, returning home at once.

  "Star!" Flyte called out. "Rowlo!"

  The spirits came back to Flyte quickly. Star was about as weakened as Glow. Rowlo, ever cautious, seemed a little better off, but even he had long overexerted himself.

  "You two should get some rest," Flyte said. "I think we can handle it from here."

  With hums and mumbles, Star and Rowlo accepted.

  "Okay," Flyte said. "Are we ready?"

  "I think so," Elliot said. "But what are we going to do about them?" He gestured towards the unconscious forms of Tarr, Hieday, and Nefti.

  "Oh, that's right," Ender said. He looked over the battlefield until he spotted someone he knew.

  "There's Caedric, by that huge plant thing. Do you mind if I go over to ask him to watch over these three?"

  "Of course I don't mind," Flyte said. Elliot simply nodded.

  Ander bolted off, sliding across the sand to his army's vice-captain.

  "So Flyte," Elliot said. "How have you been holding up?"

  Flyte cracked a dun smile. "Better than I'm supposed to, I think. I just feel tired, like it's not really real yet."

  "You know," Elliot started. "I understand that feeling. Do you know if there's anything you need?"

  "I'm not sure." Flyte stared at the blue spiral in Elliot's mask. "If I lose anyone else, can you stop me from trying to erase it again? I don't want to keep pretending that someone dead isn't. I should bear it."

  "Flyte," Elliot stopped him. "I agree, but I need an assurance in return. Do your best to let go of your guilt, okay? Talk with someone if you have to. It doesn't have to be me, or Ander, or anyone else we know, but please, if you're feeling down again, talk to someone about whatever comes into your mind. You shouldn't have to bear the guilt alone, alright? Let it be shared."

  It was strange, but Flyte felt afraid to accept Elliot's condition. It wasn't anything unhealthy, it was just... hard. A painfully hard promise. It was difficult for Flyte to admit to himself that he'd been beating up on himself too much, not just for his dad's death, but everything that went wrong.

  But it was a step forward.

  "Deal."

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  Enthusiastically, Elliot extended his hand, and Flyte shook it.

  The sands began to swirl, making circles repeatedly as though a huge dust devil had formed spontaneously.

  "It looks like Ander's back," Flyte smiled.

  Sandstone lowered down to the ground, and Ander stood atop it, riding down calmly. He'd really gotten quite good at controlling his magic.

  "You both ready?"

  Flyte and Elliot just nodded.

  "Then hold on tight!" Ander grinned hugely as he pulled his cloak's hem over his mouth and nose. The sands below the trio began to ebb and flow as though they were liquid. Then, they snapped flat and shot off, carrying all three companions along with them.

  "I saw some monsters more densely packed this way!" Ander shouted, trying to fight the wind's howling. "I'd be willing to bet we'll fine Will there!"

  'Sounds reasonable.'

  Palms facing inwards, Ander interlocked his fingers and made an angle with his arms, then tilted them until his hands were downward facing.

  The sands were split in front of Ander, turning into a huge cloud as he sped across the desert floor. There was so much sand flowing around that Flyte almost couldn't see the dark sky above him, though none of it fell on him.

  "There," Ander said, no longer needing to shout. "That should hide our exact position. Also, it'll pry be nice not having to fight every monster between us and Will. They'll simply be pushed away instead."

  "I'm glad to hear that," Flyte smiled.

  'It won't take too long for all of this to be over then. I'll be able to go back home, wherever that might be now. I could join Ander at Lion's watch. I could go back to Ontin to train. I'd even guess it's possible that Parendyne might try to make me king.'

  "From here on," Flyte grinned at his friends. "We'll be free to choose how we live our lives again."

  "I guess you're right," Elliot chuckled. "But let's get this over with first."

  The trio burst through hordes of monsters, an unstopping arrow of grey sand. Their immense speed was enough to grind some smaller fiends to death, by merit of the quickly scraping sands. Other monsters were merely wounded, while the remaining few were quick enough to scramble away. None tried, or at least were able, to press the three as they went on their way.

  Finally, Flyte, Ander, and Elliot found a ledge abandoned by the scourgefolk, who made a wide, even circle, around one humanoid.

  It was covered in chiton, the body structure acting as natural armor. The chiton's chinks werre home to undying black flames. I covered the creature's face like a helm, hiding away its expression.

  The foe's legs were, rather than human, similar to a goat's in structure, with three joints and large hooflike feet. While slowly approaching it, Flyte spotted that it wore a dark battle skirt and wielded a long scythe as it stared down into the chasm's depths.

  "So they are here," it turned toward the three who approached it. "Thank you, Lord Rush, for this opportunity to serve you!"

  The creature's voice was alien, almost indecipherable.

  "You must be the Lord Herald." Ander called out, and hand on his blade's hilt.

  "Yes, I have been called by this name," it sounded almost amused. The creature stretched out its arms, trailing dark smoke as the fire burning within shifted. "Do you not recognize me?"

  'Will.'

  Flyte breathed in, not quite happy to say the words that would come out of his mouth. "If you stop now, we will let you go. Forget your ambitions and just live out your life and we'll forget you."

  "It is far too late for that," Will laughed. "I've long wanted you dead. Only now does my liege agree that I might slay you."

  "Rush?" the name came from Ander's lips.

  "Yes," a glowing violet smile shone in Will's voided face. "Don't worry yourselves though. Your deaths will be nothing special. Just a few among the rest of Riftgard."

  "We'll see," Ander drew his blade, which made a brutal hiss.

  Will dashed at Ander, his sickle appearing before the man in a blink. Before it could strike, a finger flick from the soldier batted the Lord Herald aside as the sands beat upon him.

  "Speed?" Flyte asked, in Elliot and Ander's heads. They both nodded.

  "Wow," Will spoke as he inspected his new form. "This truly was worth it."

  "Elgro."

  "Sari! Sari! Sari!"

  Flyte's world seemed to slow down as he, Elliot, and Ander grew faster. The four spells felt off to him, though. Flyte could feel Lith withdrawing from him to facilitate the spellwork, rather than letting spirits from the 3rd plane do so.

  Will showed a toothy, luminous grin. "You've not grown strong enough to convince the spirits not to flee from me, honorsoul." Twisted whispers on the wind echoed, and Flyte could feel a primal fear begin to overtake him. "Phantoms are much grander than spirits. They have naught to flee and serve only Rush."

  Flyte saw visions depicting the deaths of those around him. He saw himself killing Elliot, who was consumed by Rush's hold. He saw Ander, bisected by Will's scythe as he was distracted. Countless friends, associates, and strangers died, victims of battles Flyte had convinced them to join, ones where only he survived.

  Then, Flyte saw himself, presuading Parendyne and his seekers to follow him to the Rift. He saw himself sparring with Lebrandt, and saw his father's face as he revealed that Flyte was an honorsoul. Finally, as Flyte was chained by the scion of Rush, Lebrandt died in front of him, a victim of Flyte's foolishness.

  In the blink of an eye, the horrid scenes were gone and Flyte could see that Elliot was attacking Will, uneffected by the herald's spell.

  Shaken up, Flyte turned to Ander to see if the gruffer man fared any better.

  "Are you alright?" Flyte asked. Ander's eyes betrayed a level of shock he'd not shown before.

  "I'm good," Ander said, his face setting into a low scowl. "You?"

  "I'm... okay," Flyte said slowly. "I think. Let's just get this over with."

  Ander burst into the fight with palpable rage, his blazing sword swinging with controlled fury. The sands trembled with each footfall.

  Flyte was slower to act. having only Lith to channel his spells, the honorsoul knew that both swords of light were out of the question, as they would prevent Flyte from casting any other spells. He knew the same would apply to any other held spell with no set time limit, so his scourge killing light would likely also be foolish to use. Flyte had no spirits to rely on, and his skill with the sword was no enough, as he saw Will's prowess with the scythe.

  It was a bit of a gamble, but Flyte settled on turning to demons for help.

  "Ander! Elliot!" Flyte called. "Can you cover for me?"

  Will turned toward the honorsoul, opening himself up for Elliot's attack.

  "Sure," the masked fighter said. "But try to be quick!"

  Flyte nodded, then sat himself down in the sand.

  "Nelar."

  The 3rd place was emptier than normal, but because of that, Flyte could easily find the demons that did populate it. Unlike spirits, which often appeared with indistinct shapes, the demons each walked in humanoid, though spectral, forms. What's more, they seemed aggrivated. Each demon Flyte saw seemed on edge and twitchy, like they had somewhere to be but couldn't get there.

  Lastly, amongst all of them, Flyte found no demons with magic resembling light.

  "Hey," Flyte said with an awkward smile. Several demons turned to him. "I was wondering if I could have some help?"

  Flyte heard dozens of voices muttering at once. They conversed about him being human and being an honorsoul. They wondered aloud why he was in the 3rd place, asking each other if he were, perhaps, lost.

  Finally, Flyte heard one voice among them speak up.

  "With what?"

  "There is a man, or scourgefolk, or whatever he is, in my plane. If my friends and allies are to survive, he'll need to die, but the spirits have fled him. Is there any way I can use your magic?"

  The demons all seemed to smile at once, the expression bloodthirsty. They were certainly excited by the proposition.

  "I think we could help with that," the demon said. It drew an empty summoning rune in the air. "Draw this, and we'll give you your magic."

  "Is there some sort of catch?" Flyte asked. Their changed demeanor was somewhat frightening for Flyte to think there wasn't.

  "No catch," another demon said. "Our goals have aligned is all. We'll even do this one for free!"

  "Oh," Flyte said. "Thanks! I guess I'll see you in a second."

  Leaving the 3rd place, Flyte saw that Will was much closer, but his friends had held him off well enough.

  Scratching the summoning runes into his bracers, Flyte stood back up, preparing to enter into the fight.

  "Just think up what you want to cast, and we'll our best to fulfill it."

  "Thank you."

  Will, fighting as he was, wasn't ready for another enemy to join just yet, so Flyte prepared to take advantage of that.

  Through Flyte's bracer, a rope fashioned by several demons leapt out, tying itself around WIll's outstretched arm, burning and pulling him.

  Pulling on the rope, Flyte brought them face to face, then began wailing on the scourgefolk foe. Lances of dull red metal formed around Flyte's hands, protecting them while not offering the same courtesy to Will.

  Black flames burst from the chinks in Will's armor, surging as they increased the heat. Without any direction from Flyte,the demons pulled the young half elf far up in the air, suspended above an inferno.

  'Right. They don't have to follow my directions.'

  Will leapt into the overcast, coming withing reach of Flyte. As he attempted to bisect Flyte with his scythe, the honorsoul evaded the attack, using the demon's propulsion to his advantage.

  Flyte began to plummet, and as he did he had to avoid attacks from all sides, twisting and cavorting like an autumn leaf in a strong gust.

  Will, just above Flyte, was diving toward his quarry, getting increasingly better reads on his movements. The herald created an imitation of his scythe from the shadows and grabbed it, preparing for one key attack.

  Flyte, to his credit, sawthe dual scythes incoming. He had just been cornered was all. Will pushed through Ander's sands and ignored Elliot's thrown weapons. The heads of Will's scythes were set to take Flyte's off.

  "Nelar," he panicked.

  "Shades..."

  As the light spear passed through Will's healing body, the scourge herald smiled and visciously and lopped off Flyte's head.

  They both knew taht he would survive the normally mortal wound, but as Flyte's headless body hit the ground he could feel that he had finally run out of grym. He was falling asleep and Ander and Elliot would have to fight Will alone.