Art by: Bastien Lecouff Deharme

Tom POV-

The smoke and ashes around Tom threatened to clog up his lungs and air ways, but the shock of the scene before him was enough to drown out the smell and taste of it.

His god.

His friends.

Fighting.

But not like all the fights back in the island. This was a real fight to the death, Dianite wasn't holding back and Tom's friends were using every single arsenal they had against him.

Tucker was now on the floor, his arm bleeding beneath his armor but the pain on his face was not due to his injuries. His friend was putting pressure on Sonja's back wound were she laid on the ground next to him.

On the outskirts of the Ianite building they were in, the pirates were being overrun by creatures of the nether. Zombies were spawning all around them as giant spiders descended from the roof, skeletons coming to their arachnid friend's aid with bows and arrows.

None of them attacked him though.

Tom slowly looked around the place in search of Stefan, looking at the ground expecting to find the poor guy dead somewhere. There was no way he was prepared for this kind of fight, but thankfully there was no sign of the boy.

Tom didn't ponder on that too much though, because his eyes glued back to the fight in the middle of the spacious room.

His best friend was fighting his god.

Dianite, covered in flames and dark magic, threw projectiles at Jordan while she did her best to block them with her sword or barely managing to roll out of the way.

He looked terrifying, like in all the stories he heard as a boy.

Jordan too looked so unlike herself in those moments.

Her armor was mostly destroyed all around her, leaving most of her skin vulnerable and glazed with injuries of varying degrees.

Dianite truly wasn't holding back, but neither was Jordan.

She seemed angry, possessed with the will to keep fighting despite her physical state.

Not angry...afraid.

Jordan was afraid, probably so afraid of anyone dying or getting hurt that she had no choice but to keep fighting.

She most definitely knew she couldn't win, he could see it in her eyes...she knew Dianite was too strong and she was too inexperienced.

But Jordan wasn't running like Tom would have advised, she quickly got up from the ground after an almost lethal blow from Dianite and rushed at the god with a blood curling battle cry.

Ever since he had seen his god and realized what that meant by seeing him, Tom's body froze up with indecision, even as Dianite had briefly commanded him to fight along his side and Tucker had begged him to help.

He couldn't move. All he could do was watch amongst the destruction.

This was it.

The fight he had been dreading since he became good friends with Tucker and Sonja.

The choice he never pondered too much on.

Chose your god or your friends.

Even now his mind couldn't even wrap around that decision, even as everything played out as if in slow motion for him.

Dianite was his life's devotion. He learnt how to pray to Dianite before he even knew how to walk..he spent most of his life training to protect him from moments like this.

All the generals had trained him to kill and hurt for this moment, to protect his god and to do it with no hesitation.

His mind was screaming at him to fight his friends, to kill them all, to paint the floor with their blood.

But his heart wouldn't let him even take a step.

His heart ached like nothing he had ever felt before at the thought of even one of his friends laying lifeless on the floor.

If the pirates died he wouldn't care all that much to be honest, but to have his friends...his family...die.

The clang of metal against flesh was the only sound around him as his thoughts threatened to consume everything he was.

'Where was Mianite!?' he kept thinking.

Tom almost wanted to scream it out as loud and angrily as he could.

'Where was he!?'

Mianite was supposed to be the one fighting Dianite. The battle of good vs evil. It was supposed to be them fighting to the death!

Mianite was supposed to win! Good always wins! So where was he!?

Instead, Tucker and Sonja were fighting some mobs that got too close to slaying them, fighting for their lives despite Sonja's open wound.

One of the pirates, Rupert, was stabbed on the leg with a diamond knife, two skeletons quickly running in afterwards to thrown him out of the structure and down a fall that was not likely fatal, but sure painful enough to do some damage.

The female pirate let out a scream as she watched that scene unfold, but she was surrounded by zombies, unable to do a thing.

Jordan...oh, his sweet Jordan was already striped down to her usual clothes, all her armor melted by her feet as Dianite quickly stopped levitating before her and placed a flaming hand on her shoulder.

His best friends scream cut across the battlefield, stopping everyone's actions, even the mobs.

Jordan was bleeding all over, crying from the pain of her now burning arm that would surely leave a handprinted mark at least, unless Dianite decided to crank up the fire power and incinerate her arm completely.

She tried to pry off his hand with one of her own, but only succeeded in burning herself further, her red cape blowing on a phantom wind enough to let Tom get a better look at her poor arm as she cried.

It was smoking.

Dianite was enjoying himself. Tom's god was smiling like a maniac as if he was enacting justice even though Jordan had done nothing against him.

Then, for the briefest of seconds, Tom realized why everyone stopped.

Everyone realized the same thing.

Jordan was going to die.

Tucker, Sonja, the pirate...they were too far away to reach her. Sonja was already back on the floor crying, unable to witness Jordan's demise.

Tucker desperately looked around, probably for a weapon he could use, unwilling to give up like that.

But Tom had seen it, that fire in her own eyes.

His friend was not willing to die today so easily.

Jordan was almost kneeling, Dianite's hold on her arm the only thing keeping her knees from hitting the floor.

But her foot was close enough to hook under her sword, giving her enough leverage to kick it upwards to where her right hand had already reached backwards to grab it. Once in her hands, it's like time slowed down for Tom.

Though it played out slowly, Jordan must have been lighting quick with her swing because the diamond sword managed to catch the god by surprise.

Cutting his flaming hand off in one blow.

Dianite screamed in anger, not pain, as he clutched his arm where his hand used to be in as Jordan fell to the floor, no longer supported by the god of the nether.

One the floor, his best friend clutched to the bring skin on her forearm which did fact leave a burning handprint.

'Rush over to her!'

'Help her! She's your best friend! You love her!'

'Kill her now while she is weak' the voices of his old generals whispered against his own thoughts.

'You can use the diamond sword in your hand, cut through her heart' Dianite's voice whispered in his mind, though Tom knew it wasn't really his.

'Help her! She's your family! Jordan makes you happy!'

Tom clutched his head, trying to get his mind to stop screaming at him even as the fights continued all around him.

Amidst the gaps between his fingers, Tom witnessed Jordan getting up from the ground and back into stance, screaming something at Dianite that Tom couldn't hear over the noise of all the fighting.

Whatever she said, it must have pissed off his god further because Lord Dianite's already flaming body flared brighter until his flames glowed bright blue.

A final blow. Once he had seen Dianite use many times in the past.

Once that left nothing but ashes.

No. He wouldn't lose her like that. Not when she had become a ray of sunshine amongst their little family. Not when this wasn't her battle to fight.

This was not her world by birth, she did not inherit this war like everyone else in attendance.

He would not let Tucker and Sonja die among flames, Tom never being able to see their wedding one day, the chipper little fox children running around a flower filled home.

Tom would not face a heartbroken Stefan, would not hand him a pile of Jordan's ashes and watch the boy die at the sight, the light of his life leaving his eyes.

He would not burry Jordan, the joy and hope of their broken world.

He would not stand by everyone's graves surrounded by a burning, mob filled world.

Tom had lost his home when he was younger, unable to do anything about it due to his age and inexperience.

But now he could, because he was stronger and faster..but mostly because he had a vision, a hope of a beautiful future.

A future with the only family he had left.

So, Tom clutched two diamond swords in both hands, knowing very well they would do nothing to stop the god before him.

He couldn't kill his god that was for sure.

But if his friends were gonna die, he was going to die with them.

*****

Stefan POV-

He ran faster than ever before, dodging rocks and trees as best he could but thanks to his bulky armor he ended up unable to avoid crashing into some tree trunks along the way.

He could hardly breathe.

Not because of the running or the thought of having kissed Claire, but because he was afraid.

Behind him, the faint noise of clanking weapons and mob noises tempted him to return, but he kept to his promise and rushed to the floating ship instead, even if his heart was still back in that building.

Claire would be ok. She would be fine.

He kept repeating those words as he ran, even when the flames behind him were so bright they illuminated the ground above him, the heat form them creating an uncomfortable wave of warm air.

Everyone could have been reduced to cinders...

With tears in his eyes, Stefan refused to slow down, already half way to where he remembered the ship to be.

Then again he could be running the wrong way. Had Stefan paid more attention to his surroundings when he arrived, maybe he wouldn't be wondering if this identical patch of forest was the right way.

Despite the ever growing distance, he could still hear screams coming from behind him where his friends were.

Female screams.

Stefan wanted to collapse and cry, he wanted to run back and die along with Claire if need be.

But he would fulfill the only thing Claire had asked of him, get help.

So he ran and ran, even as the glow of the far away fires turned from red and orange to a terrifying bright blue, he didn't let the fear sweep in.

Then he saw it, past the tears clouding his eyes, he saw the giant mast of the ship above the tree line.

Stefan almost collapsed in relief, but two zombies stepped away from behind some trees a few steps before him.

He froze.

Sure, Stefan had sparred against his friends and Claire, but he had never killed any mobs, he had never killed anything permanently or briefly for that matter.

They were terrifying up close. Their greenish flesh decaying more in some places than others, eyes black as the night, expressionless faces focused on one thing...killing him.

For a second, the green skin reminded him of Thomas, but his wasn't decaying and clumped like theirs nor were his eyes pitch black, but the thought was enough to convince himself that he was merely sparring the Dianitee.

So he got into a proper stance to balance his core, just like everyone had taught him.

He didn't let himself ponder too much about what he was gonna do and just focused on the thought of all his friends fighting to the death.

Killing two mobs wasn't that bad. He had been trained to defend himself from this.

Once he was an arm distance away from the first zombie, he raised is sword high enough to quickly stab it where its heart should be, right between the bones of his rib cage.

The zombie fell to the grass with a heavy thud, sword deep in his skin.

Stefan might have screamed out in joy at not dying, but the second zombie was already walking towards him.

When Stefan tried to retrieve his sword, he found it was stuck, or maybe he just wasn't strong enough to pull it out properly.

He tried stepping on the dead zombie's chest to pull it with more force, but the thing wouldn't budge.

The zombie was now a few feet from him, and the now dead of the two was barely disintegrating at its feet. By the time it vanished completely and freed Stefan's sword, the other zombie would already be eating his brains clean.

The panic he felt before returned as his heart hammered against his chest plate.

Stefan was going to die.

Never see the ones he loved every again despite all his training.

He didn't want to die...

With one last unsuccessful tug at his sword, Stefan stepped away from it and took a few retreating steps back just in time to avoid decaying green fingers.

As he walked backwards, Stefan tried to find a way to go around the zombie and to the ship, but there were too many trees that would slow him down.

Then amidst the panic, he remembered.

Stefan hadn't just been taught one way to defend himself.

Quickly unbuckling one of the pouches on his small belt, he fished out a blue glowing vial, took the cork off and threw it at the zombie, watching as the blue magic began to freeze its body.

The glowing blue magic began to slither into the big open pores on the poor creatures body, the ice making its way inside of it's body and shards of it coming out of the zombie's eyes and mouth as the creature finally slumped dead on the ground.

The sight of both creatures threatened to make him sick, specially knowing he had done it, but Stefan pulled himself together as he heard another scream behind him.

"Advanced potion magic from the wizards. Sorry." Stefan whispered to the freezing corpse as he broke into a run towards the clearing where the ship was.

Good thing the wizards had taught him some advanced potion making. He would have to thank them later.

Once at the edge of the land, he realized there was no way up. They had all jumped down due to the lack of proper docks after all.

"Declan!!" he screamed "Waglington!"

No answer.

"Bluebeard!"

Stefan stood there quietly until he saw Champwan's head pop out and look down at him.

"Stefan? what's going on over there? We can't see anything because of all these trees? Did Tom go crazy again?" Champwan asked, his voice calm and composed.

"No it wasn't Tom" Stefan yelled back, trying his best to get air to his lungs.

"Then why are you here? Declan is still not fully recovered, the wizards are still infusing their magic to him" the guy said

Stefan had no idea how to even begin.

"We are...in trouble" Stefan panted "Dianite is here. Need help!"

Champwan's face paled, but thankfully, he ran out of sight towards the others.

A minute later, the wizards levitated down on land, Wag and one of his brothers supporting a limp Declan.

The other two on land, reached up and levitated Champwan down. Bluebeard tied a rope down to the wooden rail and made his way down quickly.

"Lead the way" Champwan said, not bothering with pleasantries at least.

"Hold on. What about the ship, we cant just leave it!?" the pirate said.

"I'll watch over it. You lot go help them out, I'm too old to fight" Said the same guy from the temple. Lord Brokkr.

How had he gotten here?

Stefan seemed to be the only wondering so, because no one else had any problems with that as they began running towards the tree line.

Stefan quickly thanked the man before running to show everyone the way towards their friends.

Claire POV-

Jordan's eyes stung, the ashes making it uncomfortable to see, but it was the most bearable of all the pains she felt.

Oh, there were a lot of those.

Still, Jordan spun her sword to the left with both hands on the hilt, only to have her swing meet another one of those magical shields of Dianite's.

His blazing eyes met hers as he brought down a fire ball towards her. Though it was probably very ungraceful, Jordan managed to arch her back far enough to avoid having her side burnt.

Taking a few steps back to put some distance between her and the god, she used that small break to wipe the sweat and blood off her face.

Glaring at the god of the nether, she waited for him to make his move.

Surprising her, Dianite rushed towards her instead of hurling magic at her. Luckily, she had trained with Tom, who loved to rush at his enemies.

Jordan ran towards the god and at the last possible minute, she slid down between his legs and quickly got up and hid behind the giant black pillar in the middle of the room.

Taking a peak from behind the pillar, Jordan barely managed to pull her head back behind it when a fire ball rushed at her head.

She had done this.

This was all on her.

If she hadn't dated Dianite or tried to change him for the better none of this would have happened. He wouldn't be this off the rails.

Jordan didn't have time to keep blaming herself though, not when she felt fire hitting the opposite side of the pillar.

Good thing it was made of nether stone. Couldn't burn. But that didn't mean it could break.

She knew this fight was futile. Even if she managed to strike him in the heart with her sword, it wouldn't kill him, just piss him off more like with the hand.

This was it.

No matter how strong any of them were, they truly were no match for a god, specially in a no re-spawn zone.

At least Stefan was safe....

Daring to look back one more time, she noticed Tom had hurled his sword at Dianite, barely missing him before the god sent a magic blast towards Tom, sending him across the dirtied polished ground.

Tom! No....

He fought his god...

Fought for them, chose them.

She was gonna have to leave the safety of the pillar at her back soon, Jordan knew that then, she would have to face those flames head on again.

Face death.

Letting out a long sigh, Jordan looked up at the sky as she let more tears fall from her face.

"Love you mom and dad, love you little sister" she whispered, clutching her sword tighter despite the bruises and possibly broken bones.

As she pushed her feet under her, Jordan let out a silent prayer to whatever god to keep Stefan safe.

Begging for his life.

Perhaps someone did hear her after all, because a cloud like mist appeared before her, succeeding in scarring the living daylights out of her.

Once it vanished, Jordan noticed a glowing bow and set of arrows she remembered all too well, along with a note.

God killers.

Aim true Ianitee.

-Lord Mianite

The bow she used what seemed like a life time ago. The bow she used to kill the gods' father.