Rain was falling.

    It drenched everything in it; large droplets of frigid water that chilled down to the bone. There seemed no end to it, as the entire sky was covered with thick grey-black clouds. Only the suggestion of light crept down from the heavens, but it was enough for his keen eyes to see by.

    Two armies stood out in the city, held in check by nothing more than a thin thread of order. Something very much like the condition of his mind. Even now it seemed as though two Cyns fought for control within his very soul.

    “It seems strange to me that you would betray him.” He said, turning away from the window. “Isn’t he your lord and master?”

    “I have my reasons.” Yasmin replied.

    “Indeed you do.”

    It had not taken Cyn long to realise that even though the body he was now looking at was that of one of the adventurers Jala had captured, the actual person inside was completely different. It was offsetting, to say the least, but also rather intriguing. Just imagine the power it would take to replace the soul of one person with the soul of another. It was something he thought would be impossible.

    But as in many things, he had been wrong.

    “So, do you really think that destroying Pister will be as easy as you say?” Cyn asked again.

    The woman looked back at him through narrowed eyes. “Yes. It is virtually inevitable.”

    “Good. At this stage I cannot afford any kind of failure.” Cyn began. He was about to continue when the faintest of all noises whispered into his ears.

    He stopped and looked about. The window outside showed no difference in the depressing weather, but deep down inside Cyn could feel that something was newly amiss.

    “Did you hear that?” he asked Yasmin.

    The woman seemed less confident now. The narrow look was gone in her eyes, replaced by one of distant surprise. “Yes. He has come.”

    Cyn did not need to ask who. Quickly he turned back to the window and cast his gaze to the sky. There, amidst the grey clouds of the dark sky was a growing hole that looked straight up into an empty plane. Lights swirled madly in that space, and suddenly Cyn became aware of a strange and horrible power in the environs. He has come indeed.

    “I shall go and meet him. It would seem as though we have many things to discuss.”

    Cyn left the room and met Redeye outside. The Charr’s face was one grim mask of dark hair, but his eyes burned with the fire that had given him his name.

    “Report, Redeye.” Cyn said.

    “The armies have been moved outside of the city, as you ordered. All is empty. Only you, Farrion, Lucretia and that other woman remain here with me and my guard.”

    “Good.” Cyn rested a hand on the Charr’s shoulder. “Then all is well. You can take your leave also, my friend. Powers may be released here that might prove disastrous.”

    Redeye’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing for a little while. “I trust you know what you’re doing, my lord.” And with that he was turning and fading away down the corridor.

    Cyn was alone in the corridor. Just as it should be. As I came into this world so shall I leave it.

    Walking, he stepped out of the empty barracks and into the frigid breeze of the courtyard. As the wind hit his face he suddenly felt like his old self again; free, eager to live and explore. He felt human again. Mortal.

    It could have been his separation from Jala or his reunion with Farrion, but whatever it was, Cyn was glad for it. For the first time in many weeks he finally had a serious purpose that did not conflict with his inner self. Here again was an enemy that he could face. Here, behind the back of all the gods.

    “Come on, Pister, whatever you are. You want me, I’m yours to face.” Cyn muttered to the hole in the sky. “I’m yours to face.”

    “So you are.” Hissed a voice from behind him.

    Cyn turned quickly and saw Lucretia standing behind him, her lips curled into a rabid grin. There was a strange light in her eyes, a deep sense of dread that burned its way across to Cyn’s face. He could not guess how she had gotten there out of nowhere; how she could have changed so.

    “All my servants are bound to me, you fool. I move between them like the wind. Can you not understand the power I wield? You desire to be a God, yet you cannot think of the simplest things!” It was not the voice of Lucretia that came from those lips; the voice was thinner, drier and more laden with hate.

    In a moment Cyn had his dagger in his hand. “The only thing I’m thinking of is killing you.”

    “Fool! Can’t you understand? You cannot kill me! If you destroy this body – this vessel – you cannot harm me. I am power, Cyn, pure energy.”

    “I know.”

    With a flash, a purple haze enveloped Lucretia’s body, paralyzing her. From the darkness over by the barracks Farrion uttered his Mesmer spells with the grace and fluidity that Cyn remembered from the old days. Good old Farrion and his plans. He stepped forwards and grasped Lucretia’s forehead with an exposed hand and stared deeply into her eyes.

    “I’m yours to face, Pister.” He hissed as his eyes went black. “Dren energii. ”

    The power from the Mesmer spell rocked his body to its core, filling him with a burning power that seared the very veins beneath his flesh. He gritted his teeth against the pain, the sudden high. Lucretia’s screaming filled his ears and she trashed and bit but could not move her limbs.

    The ground beneath their feet split asunder, and steam curled up around their bodies like the arms of Grenth himself.

    “You fool! You cannot handle me!” Lucretia screamed as the corners of her lips ripped away in a terrible scream.

    “I – don’t – intend – to.” Cyn whispered as the last of the energy plunged into him.

    Lucretia fell from his grasp like a doll, hitting the ground with a dull thud that not even Cyn heard.

    He stepped back from the body, marvelling for a moment just how powerful he felt. In that moment every person on the planet was like an ant to him, every nation only a curiosity. I am meant to be a God. A GOD! He would face them all and throw them down, claiming a mighty celestial throne all of his own!

    No.

    He blinked, and suddenly he was standing before a rushing river, its water frothing against the banks. On the opposite shore stood a woman, her arm extended and her eyes intent on him. Light climbed through the long, narrow windows of the hall; thin, misty beams of cold light that faded in and out with the passage of clouds. Tall colonnades hugged the walls on either side, and through their midst there ran the quick river in which he stood. Strange plants grew here: crawling mosses, thorny, slimy bushes and drooping roses, bobbing in the still air. In some parts, where the stream rushed over large stones, one could see the reflection of the roof far off; a roof that was at times lost in a thick mist that hung in the air.

    Cyn did not know where the hell he was.

    And in the next instant, he did.

    “Just cross the river, Cyn.” The woman begged, even as the flesh peeled from her face, revealing a horrible visage.

    Behind him was a dark door, closed, but begging to be opened.

    Cyn stepped into the river and suddenly realised that the current was much stronger and the water much deeper than he had anticipated. The first step sent the water rushing up to his neck.

    “Keep coming, Cyn. That’s right. You’re almost there.”

    Cyn took another step and stopped in the middle of the river. Pulling out his dagger, he grasped the hilt with both hands and turned the blade towards his chest.

    “I’m not the one you want. I’m done with this nightmare.”

    The woman smiled and suddenly Cyn recognised that dead face. He had seen it on many statues at the depths of the world. Pale Grenth, holding out his arm for Cyn to grasp. The God said nothing, but kept the arm outstretched.

    

    ~ * ~

    

    Farrion saw Cyn plunge the dagger into his heart.

    For a moment it seemed as though the entire world shook; that the very heavens shook. But in a flash there was silence, and only the soft thud of Cyn’s body falling to the ground. The Mesmer made to move but Yasmin’s hand kept him in his place.

    Looking up at her face he saw that she was staring intently at Cyn’s body. Farrion turned his gaze thence and to his horror he saw the body of his friend collapse into fine dust. The stiff southern wind caught the dust and flung it far and wide about the night, dispersing Cyn about the world he had fallen to on that dark day in Ascalon. In the sky above lightning silvered the innards of the clouds, as they once more filled in the hole in the heavens.

    “In that one moment, I think he had truly become like one of the gods.” Yasmin whispered, in a quiet voice that Farrion recognised.

    He turned to her again and saw not the face of a strange woman, but the round, soft features of Tsuki. She smiled at him and he returned the gesture.

    “Yes,” he said after all the dust was gone and thunder rolled in the sky. “In that one moment.”

    

    

    The end.