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“Hush… go back to sleep, little one…”
Aisling’s voice softened. She gently ran her hand over the head of the small ursine creature that had just poked halfway out of Fenja’s backpack. A faint halo of magic slipped from her fingers. The stone cub yawned so wide it looked as though his jaw might unhinge, his eyes still heavy with sleep fluttering for a brief moment before he sank back into the pack.
He fell asleep almost instantly, his breath even. A thin smile brushed Aisling’s lips. At least, now she was certain: the Earth Elemental, even fragmented, reacted to her power. The only question left was whether it would be enough…
Fenja shifted her crouched position. Her gaze, taut with tension, remained fixed on the gaping maw of the immense cave before them. Fury, upright as a rock, stood just beside her, arms crossed. The three of them had been tasked with guarding the entrance while the rest of the group had descended into the depths, trying to reach the corrupted form of the Elemental.
“Do you think it will work?” Fenja asked in a half-voice.
Fury did not take her eyes off the darkness, her voice firm yet grave.
“It must,” she paused, her piercing gaze searching the shadow. “The longer this Elemental remains exposed to what poisoned it, the deeper it sinks into madness. And if it breaks completely, then this entire realm, and all those who found refuge here, will be swallowed with it. We cannot let that happen.”
Aisling lowered her eyes to her wrists. Beneath the thin layer of skin, the dark lines of roots surfaced more clearly than ever. Her “green hand” would soon no longer be enough to contain them. Time was running out for her as well. She drew a deep breath, forcing back the panic that threatened to rise.
“When all of this is over… what will you do?” she asked, lifting her eyes to Fury.
“If things go well, I will return here. I will put my experience at the service of Ogias and the young Nephilim. I will teach them our mistakes, so they do not walk the same path.”
Fenja, crouched not far away, raised an eyebrow, visibly surprised.
“You would leave the Horsemen?”
“The reason for War’s vexation… but once this is done… yes, probably,” she remained motionless, frozen in contemplation of the darkness before her. Then, slowly, her voice deepened. “Do you know why we swore allegiance to the Council? Why we accepted betraying our own brothers and sisters?”
Aisling exchanged a glance with Fenja, a mixture of discomfort and hesitation.
“Because the Nephilim represented a threat to the Balance?”
Fury let out a short, bitter laugh.
“Ah… you’ve spent too much time with Death. War as well, with his damned sense of honor. As for Strife… he loved chaos.”
She broke off, then finally turned toward them. She went down on one knee to be at their height. A silence stretched, then she exhaled.
“My reasons were far less noble,” her eyes fell, her voice almost weary. “I just wanted to survive. I knew the Nephilim were doomed, that their end was inevitable. And I preferred being the one holding the blade rather than ending up on the wrong side of it. Then I spent the following millennia convincing myself that I had been right. That it was simpler to live by clinging only to two or three people. That one fared better alone.”
Aisling cast a discreet glance at Fenja, and suddenly understood why the two of them seemed to connect so easily. The young huntress, for her part, looked troubled
“What changed?” the healer asked.
“Pride.”
Fury let out a sigh.
“During War’s imprisonment, the Council sent me to Earth to hunt and capture the Seven Sins. Until I discovered it was they who had released them, hoping one of them would rid them of me.”
Fenja grimaced, amused.
“Ouch… And how did that end for them?”
A feral smile stretched across Fury’s lips.
“Painfully.”
The three women snorted softly, amused. Then Fury’s gaze drifted into the void.
“And then I met your people…” she murmured, her voice softened by emotion. “And for the first time, I understood that I could do more than survive. That I could make sure others survived as well. That I could… protect, pass something on. And I believe I still can.”
Fenja fixed an invisible point before her, her thoughts elsewhere. Aisling, at her side, silently followed the scene, a discreet warmth swelling in her chest. There was something reassuring in seeing them this way: Fenja and Idris would find their place in the world to come, she was certain of it.
But for her?
The healer’s gaze slid absently over Fury’s tense silhouette… before stopping on the amulet hanging at her belt. The jewel, dark and heavy with power, seemed to vibrate with contained energy.
“And that…?” she asked more softly, nodding toward the object.
Fury lowered her eyes toward it, her features softening slightly.
“A precious gift.” Her voice grew deeper. “The fruit of the sacrifice of countless souls from the Three Realms. It was entrusted to me by someone who, despite all that I was, chose to believe in me. Someone who reached out to me at a time when I no longer believed I deserved anything. Thanks to him… I found a purpose again. A direction. And a little faith.”
She brushed the amulet with her fingertips, the way one touches a memory.
“I promised myself I would pass it on one day, that I would not let this power fall into oblivion.”
Fenja tilted her head slightly.
“And… what exactly does it do?”
Fury shook her head, a faint, jaded smile on her lips.
“I do not know. Yet. What I do know is that it holds a source of absolutely phenomenal energy. Which means it must, under no circumstances, fall into the wrong hands.”
Fenja raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
“And how did you lose it, then?”
“I did not lose it,” Fury replied with a trace of pride. “When Ogias and his men attacked me, before I understood who they truly were, I decided to hide it. I concealed the amulet in the temple, to keep it from being taken, in case things went wrong. I suppose that is where you found it?”
Aisling and Fenja exchanged an embarrassed look.
“Not exactly. In fact… I had to dive into a branch of the Styx that flows beneath the temple to retrieve it. That is where I found it.”
Fury stared at the two of them for a moment, as though waiting for the punchline of a joke. But the silence that followed confirmed their seriousness.
“…Oh.” she breathed simply. She looked away briefly, pensive, troubled despite herself. “Well… we will definitely have to take a look down there when all this is over.”
A sudden bluish light tore her from her thoughts. It burst from the cave in a sharp flash.
“She’s coming!” Nimue cried, her voice tight with urgency.
Dull noises rumbled at once, like an earthquake approaching. Each step made the ground tremble beneath their feet. Fury straightened abruptly, her features hardening. With a sharp crack, her whip unfurled.
“Positions. Be ready.”
Fenja drew her bow, nocking an arrow with precise movement. Aisling stepped back slightly, closing her eyes for a brief instant to focus, gathering all the energy she would need to channel. The pounding of hooves echoed in the cave, and in a flash, the steeds of Death, War, and Strife emerged from the rocky tunnel at full gallop, their riders urging them at full speed.
And behind them, a monster. A titanic silhouette tore free from the darkness. A colossus of shadow, vaguely ursine in shape, but deformed, twisted, ravaged. The beast let out a howl so powerful the air itself vibrated. Ancient weapons, swords, spears, axes, remained lodged in its flanks, remnants of battles it had clearly won. Its skin oozed a black substance, thick as tar, corrosive to the ground it touched.
Inside Fenja’s pack, the small Elemental suddenly stirred, scratching to get out, as if sensing the presence of its mother… or what she had become. Idris leapt without hesitation, springing from Strife’s saddle in a precise jump to land beside the women, sword already drawn, shield braced before him.
“She was furious before we even found her, and I’d say we’ve only made things worse!” he shouted, his voice straining above the din.
“Aisling, listen to me closely!” Fury roared while snapping her whip to the ground, warming her wrist. The Horsemen, moving in a well-practiced dance, already encircled the beast, harrying it relentlessly—not to wound, but to distract, to contain. “We will try to immobilize her. When I give you the signal, do what you must. Not before.”
“Understood!” Aisling nodded, breath short.
She could not have said how long the battle raged. Time seemed to stretch, dilating into an endless spiral of screams, strikes, and magic. Around her, the Horsemen, Uriel, Astaroth, Idris, and Fenja moved with fierce precision, hammering the Elemental ceaselessly, doing everything possible to keep its focus away from her.
The young healer struggled to maintain control of the small Earth Elemental, who grew increasingly distressed. Fenja, reluctantly, had finally entrusted her with the pack. The little creature called to its mother with guttural cries, not understanding she might crush it without hesitation. Aisling fought to keep it inside the bag while maintaining her concentration.
Guided by her allies’ shouts, she moved in rhythm with the combat, seizing the brief openings carved by their coordinated attacks to approach the colossal creature. At each attempt, she reached out her hand, striving to make contact, to touch its mind, to pierce the darkness enveloping it. But each time she failed, she had to retreat in haste, saved at the last second by one of the Horsemen on their steeds, or by Uriel, who swooped down from the skies to snatch her from danger.
The battle seemed endless. Then finally, after what felt like hours, the Elemental staggered. With a low rumble, the beast collapsed, its massive body crashing to the ground with such force the earth quaked. Fury, arm taut, held her grip with her whip coiled around a limb, while Death channeled a shadowed energy to bind it tighter.
“Aisling, now!” Fury screamed across the battlefield.
Without thinking, the young woman dashed forward. She ran as fast as her legs allowed, stumbling over the shattered ground, before sliding to her knees beside the creature’s massive head. She pressed her hand against its rough brow, just above a half-closed eye, bloodshot with darkness.
At the touch, she plunged into the Elemental’s consciousness. The beast’s mind was a maelstrom of pain, madness, screaming images, and crawling shadows. Aisling had to fight with all her strength not to break the link. Every fiber of her being screamed to flee. But she held on. She drew from her memories, from love, from hope, from the peace of the world they sought to rebuild. She poured all of it into the creature through the contact, fighting to offer it a fragment of light.
But nothing worked. It was like trying to calm someone stabbed straight through the heart, lost in animal panic, blinded by suffering.
“I can’t do it!!” she cried, throat tight, drenched in sweat, her voice barely rising above the clash of battle and the beast’s roars.
Fury pulled on her whip until her muscles creaked, while Death, his face drawn tight, struggled to keep his magic steady.
The canvas bag slipped from Aisling’s shoulders in the struggle, and the small ursine creature rolled to the ground, disoriented. It let out a plaintive whimper, trying to grasp what was happening. Aisling’s heart thundered as she redoubled her efforts to reach the fractured consciousness of the adult Elemental, struggling to draw its attention away from the cub. In vain. Her attempts only stoked the beast’s fury.
The immense creature roared and pushed itself halfway up, despite Death’s magical chains and Fury’s coiled whip. Its blazing gaze fixed on Aisling and the cub, and in a terrible motion, it raised its massive paw to crush them.
“By all Hells…” Fury growled.
Without a second’s hesitation, the Horseman released her whip and hurled herself forward. With a muffled crash, she intercepted the paw at the last instant, her knees buckling under the impact. She clenched her teeth, straining with all her might to hold the weight back and shield Aisling, who was already on the ground, clutching the small creature to her chest.
“I… I can’t do it!” Aisling cried, crawling backward, the cub writhing against her. “I can’t reach her!”
“Find another emotion!” Fury gasped, her voice broken by exertion. “You need something deeper to touch her mind, something beyond fear or pain!”
Around them, the others did all they could to divert the creature’s attention. But it seemed locked, blinded by a rage turned even against its own offspring. Aisling, panting, stared at the little Elemental trembling in her arms, crying desperately for its mother. It did not understand, searching for something else in its mother’s frenzied eyes.
“Her child…” she murmured.
She had seen it so many times. In the eyes of mothers screaming for their children. In the eyes of fathers receiving their firstborn. That primal instinct, burning, to protect at all costs. And this time, it was not theoretical magic she sought. It was a bond.
She closed her eyes. In the chaos, she heard… a lullaby. Gentle, distant, almost unreal. A woman’s voice, humming. She had heard it before, in that ruined house, after the trial of Fire, in Ren’s arms. Then in the mist, in that destroyed dwelling on Earth, a silhouette humming. That memory was not fully hers, but the emotion was. Real. Powerful. Painful.
“Mama…”
One word. An inner cry. A void she had never filled.
And yet… why such grief? She had never known her parents. They had abandoned her. It was Ren who had raised her. And still… the emotion surged within her like a wave. Before she could think, she leapt. She tore free from Fury’s protection and ran straight toward the massive chest of the beast.
“Aisling, NO!” Fury roared, arm outstretched to stop her, in vain.
The young woman threw herself against the Elemental’s vast torso, pressing the cub tightly to her chest. The small creature immediately clung to the black, tar-like fur. Aisling closed her eyes and surrendered herself to one single word: protect.
Protect. At all costs. In life… in death.
The world seemed to freeze. The noise vanished. Even the cries and the spells faded. A deafening silence fell around them. The titanic creature, stopped cold, appeared paralyzed. A long shudder ran through her. And slowly… very slowly… the paw hovering above Fury relaxed. The air became breathable again. Death released his magic with a sigh, and the shadows binding the beast dissolved.
The Elemental sagged to the ground, its ragged breath stirring the earth. Black vapor seeped from its flanks, like ink dissipating. The corruption—or whatever it was—was dissolving, carried away by the faint light of the restored bond.
The small Elemental slipped from Aisling’s arms and toddled toward its mother’s massive muzzle. It nestled there gently. She did not move. Aisling backed away slowly, her legs trembling, then turned toward Fury, who was catching her breath, kneeling on the ground.
“You all right?” she asked, extending a hand to the Horseman.
Fury grasped it and rose with effort.
“You’ve a damned tendency to hurl yourself into the lion’s jaws…” she muttered with a faint smile. “But… by the abyss… you did it.”
Aisling let out a dry, nervous laugh, still dazed. They all remained there, motionless, breath short, bodies broken by effort. Silence settled like a shroud over the battlefield. Before them, the immense ursine creature lay half-collapsed, her flanks barely rising. But her eyes, once mad with rage, were clear again. Weary. Calm. And filled with a heartbreaking tenderness fixed on the small being nestled against her.
Fury took a step forward, anguish etched on her face.
“No…” she breathed, her voice hoarse with restrained emotion. “She cannot die. We were careful, we contained her, not wounded her… She must be healed!”
Aisling held her back, calm but firm, her gaze fixed on the small Elemental gently rubbing its head against her palm. It whimpered softly, not understanding what was happening.
“She was never meant to be saved,” she said quietly.
Fury stared at her, stunned. “What? No!”
Aisling shook her head, and something greater than herself seemed to speak through her. An ancient truth, vast and unstoppable, had opened within her.
“The Earth of old is gone…” she murmured. “We believed our mission was to restore what was destroyed. To bring back humanity as though nothing had happened. But we cannot. We cannot go back. It was never possible.”
She turned slowly to the others. Fenja staggered closer, her face streaked with dirt and dried blood. Her arms shook, her voice broke.
“No… no, it cannot be too late… It is not over! This is our world! Our home! We cannot let it die!”
Aisling stepped toward her, eyes shining, and laid her hands on her shoulders—leaning as much for her own exhaustion as to comfort her.
“We cannot restore the past, but we can replant the future.”
She drew a deep breath, as if the words threatened to burst out of her.
“What is the ultimate purpose of every living being? What links a parent to a child… what the past gives to the future?”
All eyes turned again toward the Elemental, whose breath was fading. A deep, resonant purr rose from her chest, a song of farewell to her cub. Strife, silent until then, murmured in a low voice.
“To pass it on.”
Aisling nodded slowly. Then she lifted her gaze to Death, who had stood apart, frozen like an obsidian statue. She sought his eyes, found them. He knew. She read it in his dark stare.
“And what does passing it on require?” she asked.
“Sacrifice,” Death whispered.
Aisling smiled, tears running freely down her cheeks, streaking with dust. Then, in a final long, trembling sigh, the Earth Elemental let go. Her chest ceased to rise. Her eyes closed slowly. The creature was gone.
The cub let out a plaintive cry and pressed against her. But already, something was changing. From the black, barren soil, vibrant flowers began to sprout. Bushes, vines, ferns, tall grasses. Roots sank into the ground, carrying with them new energy. The old power of the Elemental spread through the rock, the earth, every cavern. The dark caves were tinted with green, with life, with soft light.
The small Elemental stepped back slightly, its paws planted in the fresh moss. It lifted its eyes, hesitant… then it changed as well. Its rough, dusty stone form softened. Its skin sprouted mosses, young shoots, timid flowers. It was still itself… but already different.
Fury knelt slowly beside the small Earth Elemental, still nestled against its mother’s remains. The being of vegetation breathed softly, its luminous eyes fixed on her with strange trust. For a moment, the Horseman hesitated, reaching out without knowing what she was supposed to do. Aisling, weakened but still lucid, raised her gaze toward her.
“He will follow you. You must take him to Ulthane and Azrael.”
Fury nodded slowly, graver than ever. She rose, summoned her horse with a snap of her fingers. Astaroth joined her without a word, simply nodding to show he would accompany her. Together, they mounted the steed, and in the thunder of hooves, galloped into the galleries, carrying with them the new Earth Elemental. Meanwhile, Uriel soared away to warn Ogias and the Nephilim.
Behind them, calm returned. Aisling, staggering, swayed on her feet. Fenja caught her, quickly joined by Idris and Nimue. They surrounded her, while farther away, Death, War, and Strife examined the dark, tarry remnants still clinging to the ground.
“How did you… know all of that?” Fenja asked in a soft voice, almost fearful.
Aisling blinked, her gaze distant. She seemed uncertain herself of what she had just experienced.
“I… I think I had a memory… of my mother. There was a lullaby. Gentle words, soothing… And an immense sadness. But necessary. I think… I think they did not abandon me… my parents. I believe they left me there… to protect me.”
Fenja wrapped her arms around her without a word. Idris and Nimue joined them, forming a circle around her, holding her close. War stepped forward as well, laying a hand on the young healer’s shoulder. His usually stern face softened slightly.
“You all right?”
She nodded mechanically, utterly exhausted. Idris and Fenja helped her up, then, leaving Nimue to support her, they moved toward the dark puddles scattered across the ground.
“What is it?” the young warrior asked. “That black substance…”
“Is it… Corruption?”
Death, still crouched near a puddle, slowly lifted his head.
“No. But it resembles it. An imitation,” he rose to his full height. “It is not natural. Someone shaped it. And used it to drive the Elemental mad. This was no accident. It was deliberate.”
“But who would do such a thing?” Fenja clenched her fists
Strife, standing back, growled:
“If I had to bet… the Charred Council. If Earth cannot be reborn, neither can humanity.”
Idris shook his head, brows furrowed.
“Why? Why is it so important to them? Why must they prevent Earth from coming back to life?”
War crossed his arms, grave.
“Because they have something to hide. And they are eliminating anything that might get close to it.”
Aisling, supported by Nimue, took a few weary steps toward them, each movement weighted with fatigue. Death glanced at her briefly.
“They knew someone would eventually understand… that the Elementals must be restored. They wanted to stop it at all costs.”
“Perhaps they hoped this Elemental would destroy all who tried,” Idris frowned.
“Or perhaps…” Death’s face shifted as realization struck him. “They wanted to draw someone here… Exactly here.”
All of them froze. Their gazes turned in unison toward Aisling. The young woman, panting, narrowed her eyes. Then she paled. A black puddle, until then discreet, had spread beneath her feet. She had no time to scream. Something seized her violently by the ankle and yanked her down.
“Aisling!” Nimue shouted, lunging to catch her.
She grabbed her arm, but too late. The puddle widened in a sudden surge, swallowing both their figures in a burst of writhing shadows. The others rushed forward, but a fraction of a second too late. With a final sucking sound, the pool evaporated.
And they were gone.