Chapter 48

Wil stood in blackness, the world spread out far beneath his feet. All around him, sparkling starlight revealed the heavens, in the center of which was a gaping hole. It was a wound in the barrier, separating their realm from the Aether beyond. On the edge of his vision, a monstrosity lurked, a multi-tentacled behemoth with a single eye, staring balefully at the life below.

Ignoring the creature, Wil focused on the world below him. He could see Illyria, the mountains of the north, the vineyards of the south. To the far west, across a dark blue ocean, another vast continent stretched. Lund. Everything seemed so small and insignificant from here.

His stomach growled, the hungry void within him urging him for nourishment. He banished the feeling, his newfound control of his abilities easily suppressing his desires.

“Is this what the gods see.” Wil wondered aloud, his voice a whisper that barely carried.

“It is, until you forge a throne of your own, taking an aspect of worship.” Secundus said, her voice sounding from beside him. He turned slightly, careful to not alarm the goddess. She was here in her true form, he could feel the divinity and warmth radiating from her.

The blond-haired woman looked tired and pale, her frame shaky and weak. Worse, she was injured, wounds visible on her body. Wil knew that some of them came from him, harming her in his feeding frenzy.

“A throne…like a blue sun, or an azure ocean?” Wil asked.

“Yes, a manifestation of your power in reality. It’s something that would have been revealed to you in time, if you had ascended in a more ‘traditional’ sense.” She said, watching him carefully. He seemed so calm and in control, completely changed from the beast she had witnessed herself.

“I never have been the traditional type.” Wil replied dryly, turning away from the world, and facing the goddess.

“You disappeared from my sight, Wil. What has happened to you?” Secundus queried, staring into his dark, reddish eyes.

“Mammon is dead, and his brother, Moloch, will not be bothering us again. I’ve come to see if you were still alive, that I hadn’t… that what I broke could be mended.” He finished.

“What is broken, can always be mended, Wil.” Secundus said, flashing him a smile. It was as if the sun itself rose, breaking through the cold and shining upon him with its light.

“Not everything.” Wil whispered, frowning as the feeling of despair returned. He quickly suppressed it, not willing to face his sorrows yet.

“I’ve come to end this, Secundus. I thought with Mammon’s death, the portal would close, but it merely stemmed the flood of Fiends. How do we close it permanently?” Wil asked.

“The rupture in the barrier is being maintained by the Black Moon, and the god it represents, Erebus. It was her betrayal that freed the Elder Dragon, and her Pact with Mammon and the Outsider that opened our world to the Aether.” Secundus explained, pointing at the broken black moon in the darkness. It floated silently, fractured and tar covered.

“We kill Erebus, and the portal closes. Fine.” Wil said, his voice emotionless. “Are you prepared?” He asked, looking over the weakened goddess. He doubted she would be able to provide much of a fight, but her knowledge could be invaluable.

“Yes. But I don’t know what to expect once we confront her. She had been out of contact since this conflict began, not participating. With the Outsiders taint running rampant through her body, she’s likely mad.” Secundus warned him.

“All the more reason to end this quickly.” Wil responded, reaching over, and gripping the goddess’s arm lightly. He was surprised how real she felt, how warm, like sunlight on a stone. Focusing, he ripped another tear in reality, forming a portal from where he stood, to the surface of the black moon.

With a breath, he plunged into the black void, Secundus following him closely. The pressure of their passage pressed down on his skin uncomfortably, their passing puncturing a hole through a thin, protective membrane around the Moon’s surface, an attempt to keep invaders out. Wil barely had to try to pierce it, so weak was the barricade, his portal carried him forward.

He stepped out onto the black soil of the moon, at the edge of an ocean of black tar. The night sky was filled with an array of stars, the entire universe spread out above him. The ground of the moon was soft, his white boots sunk into the earth as if it were dust.

Surprisingly, the air was breathable, thick with the sweet scent of the tar. His mouth watered at the smell, the taste of the infection filling him with a desire to devour it.

Turning slowly, he observed his surroundings while waiting for Secundus. He was on a small island, a round area of land barely large enough for himself and Secundus to stand on. A path of earth meandered through the ocean, a trail to where he could feel the moon’s owner.

Joining Wil, Secundus held a hand over her face, the smell of the tar overpowering. It smelled of fetid water, death, and decay. Gagging, the goddess conjured a small cloth to cover her face.

“Gah! How can you stand this, Wil?” Secundus asked, confusing him with the question. Shrugging, he merely waved his hand, creating a bubble of fresh air around them, forcing the smell away. Nodding gratefully, the goddess waited for the young man beside her to lead the way.

“Stay behind me.” Wil ordered, following the path of soft soil, careful to not disturb the tar.

It was only a short walk, before their surroundings changed. Black spires began to grow from the tar, the further along the path they traveled, the larger the spires around them grew. Starting as small points emerged from the ocean, in only a few minutes, they were larger than Wil’s head.

At the path’s end, jagged spikes reached dozens of feet into the air, ringing the pair as they walked. Rivulets of tar ran down their surface, and beneath, Wil could see they were made of obsidian, volcanic rock that was razor sharp.

The path rose, winding and twisting to a plateau of earth, around which a circle of spikes loomed, almost protectively. Reaching the summit, Wil was greeted by the sight of the moon’s owner, or what was left of her.

A human woman stood in the center, beautiful and as pale as starlight. Long black hair flowed, framing a face with perfect features. Her eyes were closed, and she could almost seem to be asleep, if not for the fact that her mouth was wide open in a silent scream.

The goddess of the black moon was impaled on obsidian spikes, piercing her torso. Her limbs were encased in stone, imprisoning her in her own domain. From the wounds, black tar leaked, a steady flow that stained the ground and formed a small river, leading down the plateau and into the ocean below.

Erebus was unaware of them, and as far as Wil could tell, he doubted she had awareness of anything. The goddess seemed to be dead, her body used as a fount for the infection, and her connection to the portal. Emotionlessly, Wil assessed the woman, while beside him, Secundus let out a gasp at the sight of her former sister goddess.

“What…” Secundus began, before gagging on the stench of death that breached the barrier of air Wil had formed. The body before them was practically bursting with infection, the source of the tar all around them.

The Sun Goddess blanched at the sight and smell, her body shuddering as her mind reeled at what she saw.

“There are more.” Wil said simply, pointing towards the darkness behind the body. There were other pillars, with figures buried deeply in the obsidian, their bodies barely visible through the thick layer of tar that leaked from their remains.

The first contained a large man, his body appeared to be made of stone. In his hand he gripped a hammer, and a long beard draped across his bare chest. It was matted and stuck to his body with tar, but Wil could spot dwarf like features, and the runes carved on his hammer were of their language.

The next was a woman, her features elvish and her once fine clothing was light green and made of gossamer silk. Her blond hair was covered in black tar, her eyes closed, and her face bore an expression of anguish. Wil could see a flash of gold from a ring on her finger, his eyesight good enough to see the shape of a tree, the symbol of the Great Tree of Elvenhome.

There were others, all in a row, all captured, and tar covered. It was the gods of their world, the ones that had fallen in battle while attempting to repel the Outsider and close the portal.

Next to him, Secundus wept as she laid eyes on the last god, a red-haired man in golden robes.