A Clash of Fates

Their fates would clash and determine the world that would rise from the ashes of the war.
Great turmoil was added to Sarkas’s pain when he saw the events that would lead to their birth; events he would orchestrate. The War for the Realm would claim thousands of lives over thousands of years, but it would bring a princess and a knight together. The love between Reyna Sevari and Nathaniel Galfrey would change all of Verda.
The pain intensified.
Sarkas would have fallen to his knees but he wasn’t really standing on anything; simply existing. He saw western armies marching on the east as Erador’s ancient warriors were raised from their graves and set to the task of restoring order in Illian. He saw dwarves, the mysterious children of the Vengoran mountains, flattened by Reavers and undead dragons. He saw an elven fleet burning on Adean waves, though he had never heard of or seen such fair creatures.
Malliath reigned above it all.
The fire beneath him grew until the dragon and the ocean itself disappeared. Sarkas was drawn back from the blaze by unseen forces until he was granted the image of a burning tree. It was mountainous. The white bark was slowly being charred black by the ravenous inferno. Its magnificent red leaves were reduced to ash on the breeze. With every inch it lost, the world lost a modicum of its magic.
What came next was heartbreaking, bringing more tears to Sarkas’s eyes.
Then, like a child discarding a toy, time rejected its observer and spat the young wizard out. His eyes opened to the real world and he immediately lurched to the side and expelled the contents of his stomach. His heart was pounding in his chest and his muscles ached from the tension.
Seated on the floor, he collapsed back against the wall and let his head loll to the side. In the quiet of a long-abandoned storage room, Sarkas wept, his emotions scattered. There was a way, however convoluted, that he could create a future where the strong held up the weak. It was a contrasting world to the one he knew. But to get there, to bring peace and prosperity for endless generations, he would have to become something far worse than anything that had come out of The Echoes order or even their predecessors, the Jainus.
He would have to become a monster…
Sarkas shut his eyes but he could still see all the things he was going to do to that poor boy. But Alijah Galfrey would unite the world - he had seen it.
Feeling warm steel in his hand, the young wizard looked down to see a knife clutched in his fingers. It was red with blood.
Lying beside Sarkas was a man, perhaps his own age. He had recently been initiated into The Echoes priesthood, along with hundreds of others. No one would miss the wretch, destined with the rest of his order to achieve nothing with his life. His blood, however, had served the entire realm.
Sarkas looked to his right, where the book of the Jainus lay with its pages open. His eyes ran along the title, translating the older language.
The Winds of Time.
It was the most powerful spell in the whole book, in all the books. Sarkas wiped his mouth before ripping the page out and stuffing it into his robes. Thinking of everything he had just witnessed, he could already feel particular events fading, their edges losing their details. He would need to use the spell again: and then again and again if he had to. He would get every piece of the tapestry right in his mind.
He would see it done.

Part I


1
Home
Darkness. That was all that awaited Alijah Galfrey. Beyond that, the unknown. Such was the fate of any who fell into a portal, a pitch-black maw hungry to consume him like quicksand. There was nothing he could do. In the same moment he heard the crystal shatter at his feet, the magic therein tore through the fabric of reality with terrifying ease.
The shock of it instantly robbed the half-elf of his rage. There was barely time to think, but he still managed to consider what awaited him on the other side and wondered if it was death.
Adilandra, his grandmother, watched his descent into the abyss. Disappointment and heartbreak ruined her fair features. One more step and he would have brought his wrath down upon her, striking at the betrayal that broke his own heart.
But all that rage was gone, taken by surprise and fear of the unknown. Had she doomed him? Had he doomed himself with such rash action? His questions fled with all haste when the world returned to him with despairing clarity.
Emerging from the portal, he could see The Hox churning as he plummeted towards it: an ancient beast of a sea that took no prisoners. Turning inward, Alijah sought to erect what he could of a shield, anything to soften the blow. He could feel the magic swelling inside of him, but he was still exhausted from the Jainus’s spell.
The shield flickered, its strength fluctuating in harmony with Alijah’s faltering will.
I’m coming for you!
Malliath’s voice was the only thread of comfort before the ocean accepted the king into its icy embrace. There was pain, but there was also peace. The shield saved his life if not all of his bones, leaving Alijah to drift deep beneath the surface. Had he claimed victory? Had he done what the Jainus had failed to do so long ago? These questions, and many more, faded away.
He sank into the icy depths, weighed down by his scale mail. Somewhere between life and death, he saw a monster gliding towards him. The Hox itself birthed the dark creature as it grew in size, encompassing his vision.
What remained of his mind wondered, without fear, if it was the fabled Leviathan that stalked these cold waters. There was no fight left in him. Even now he could feel himself succumbing to the call of death.
Hold on… Malliath