Published at 28th of September 2026 7:58 am

Chapter 329 Sacrifice

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In her minds eye, Mirian saw the great tree from her dreams. All its branches were burning, and though she searched, she could see no path. Beneath her, geysers of arcane energy still poured up from the fissures in the leyline regulator. Above her, Divir was falling faster; only the intact conduit crystals were preventing gravity from bringing their end.

Her hands were raised before her, as if they could help push the falling moon back into place, and they trembled with strain. Mirian furiously worked to pull as much energy as she could into Equinox, hoping that if she could transmute enough of it, it might give her the power she needed. The conduit crystals within her armor had magnitudes more capacity for their size than anything that had come before the time loop, but she could feel the mental glyphs telling her they were on the verge of being overloaded. The Elder artifacts shed placed in the armor could absorb vast quantities of excess energy, but they too were reaching capacity. Without Ceiba Yans mana and the emergency stabilization artifact, the regulator would have shattered entirely, but it wasnt enough to stabilize the leylines, nor stop Divir.

Mirian strained to keep her soul from simply tearing itself apart under the strain.

The Ominians presence still overwhelmed her, and there, too, Ceiba Yan had saved her, preventing one soul of the spirit-construct from simply annihilating the others. She could feel a new presence, tooon the other end of Enteria, Xecatl was by the trees side, helping guide him.

More memories crashed through Mirian. Divitrius was mourning.

They had been alive for untold millions of years. It was an existence incomprehensible to her. Through it, they had seen the rise and fall of so many species. Mirian recognized a few from the inside of the Mausoleum, but others were in no book of myrvites shed ever seen, and by now, shed read nearly all of them. Others still seemed to exist at a scale that she had no reference forit looked like they swam in an ocean, but their forms were strange beyond even the most alien Labyrinthine horror. They had explored ever inch of Enteria, and worlds beyond that. They knew Enterias different epochs like she knew glyphs.

Mirian had made promises in the time loop: to Nicolus, to Jei, to Lecne, to Beatrice, to Everad, to her father, to so many people: promises that she would remember the history theyd shared together, because she was the only one who could. There were decades of friendship that only she remembered. Her first kiss with Selesia. Sitting with Nicolus in that ruined tower of Lake Torrviol as the dark waters lapped against the shore. The celebrations of Torrviol when shed first defeated Akanas army. Song Jeis endless patience in her lessons. Jei again, crashing her airship into Apophagorga to save her life. Lecne and Arenthia first reuniting after the first time Mirian saved the high priestess from execution. Rostals lessons on the dervish forms.

Her first reunion with her father.

They were moments of beauty that she had taken upon herself to carry with her. Shining jewels in her memory that she would carry with her as long as she lived. She hoped to share the story of them with those people. To pass on the truth of the long journey that had led her to this end.

Divitrius had done the same, she realized.

They carried millions of years of memories. Entire clades of organisms existed only in their recollection. Entire continents had risen and fallen that only they remembered. They had walked Enteria in remembrance of it all, one last time, thinking, this place.

They savored the memoriesbecause Divitrius had made their decision on who to choose, and what they were willing to do to save Enteria.

***

Celen Lineas sat in a cafe in Mercanton, notebook open on the table, sipping a dark beer hed already forgotten the name of. Air from the street below wafted up through an open window. It was a fascinating mixture of rank odors and roasting meats. From his seat by the window, he could watch all the people moving down the street. And what medley of characters it was!

There was a young man who was clearly trying to become a pickpocket, but he was terrible at it; he kept reaching out his hand, then nervously withdrawing it. There was a woman who was drunkimpressive, at this early hourand ranting about something to anyone who passed, though Celen couldnt make out the words. Two lovers on a third-floor apartment were having an impassioned argument while angrily putting up clothes on the drying line hung over the street, which was shaking like a spiderweb that was trying to restrain a lizard. A bored looking spellcart driver was slowly edging his way through a crowd, starting and stopping repeatedly as oblivious pedestrians passed in front of his vehicle. There was a man trying to embody the latest fashion, complete with a fancy hat, except he kept stepping on discarded trash that would stick to his shoe, and there was simply no way for him to elegantly get it off.

Celen allowed himself a little grin. He uncapped his pen and took a shallow sip of the beer. It tasted a lot like the street smelled. Perfection. With a sigh, he thought, Ah, I

***

Zhuan Li sat in her prison cell, feeling her heart in her throat. Her face was still damp with tears, though shed finally stopped crying. It was two days until the execution. Two days left to live. She still had so much to say, so much to write. Theyd burned her library, tried burning all her books across the city. It wasnt even just the prospect of death that was twisting her up in the inside. It was that they didnt just seek to kill her, but all her ideas. Purging her very soul from history.

She sat, staring blankly at the wall. She heard the footsteps of the guards thudding back and forth. Eventually, she brought herself to stand up on her cot so she could look out the little barred window again. Imprisoned as she was in Wongzho Palace, at least she had a view of the city.

Zhuan looked out at Benansuo, gazing out at the bustling streets. She could see all the people, going about their daily lives. See the sloped roofs with ornamental myrvite carvings along the ridges. See the goods being wheeled south to the port. Hear the clang of a factory bell. She couldnt see the docks, but she could hear the deep call of the spells that ships used to signal a departure.

None of the pain of Zhighua was visible at this distance. Her heart ached, not just for herself, but for all those people down there. For all the futures that either had been destroyed, or were scheduled to be. Her beautiful country, shackled and bled. Some hated the Akanans for stealing away their ancient treasures, but it was the theft of peoples livesall their time, all their laborthat she mourned. She had known her path might lead here. She could have stayed quiet.

As she stared out at the city, her soul ached, and she thought, I

***

Sio Jherica checked again to make sure their parents bedroom light had gone out. They waited, fingers fidgeting, until they were sure both were asleep. Then, making sure to avoid every creaking floorboard, they tip-toed into their mothers study. The desk drawer was locked, but Sio had traded favors with a friend whose mother was a locksmith, and had duplicated the drawers key. With a click, it opened, and Sio carefully pulled out their mothers spellbook.

There was a spot in the houses courtyard, just below the fig tree, where sounds were muffled and light wouldnt reach their parents window. Sio had placed a stool in that spot just after dinner.

They were, of course, banned from even thinking about practicing magic until they went to Academy, but that was years from now, and Sio couldnt wait. Magic was simply too marvelous to be ignored. For the next three hours, they spent their tme working on casting a spark spell. When at last, a tiny trickle of electricity danced across Sios fingertips, they couldnt help but giggle with delight. Luamins light bathed the courtyard, and just before they snuck back inside to place the spellbook back, they gazed up. Sio had so many questions burning inside themabout magic, and about the wonders of the void above. To the moon and the night, just before they went inside, they whispered, I

***

Ibrahim Kalishah was on the roof when Rostal Bedeu found him, staring northeast.

I told you to forget it, boy, his mentor told him. Here.

Ibrahim tore his gaze away from the horizon. Mahatan was too far away to see from Urubandar, but he could still imagine its spires. Still imagine the smoke. He looked down at what Rostal had handed him. A letter. For a moment, he wondered who would be writing to him, and then he remembered. The University of Urubandar was offering him a scholarship. He couldnt help but smile. When he looked to Rostal, though, the man wasnt smiling.

Theres other options, Rostal said. Had another cousin move to Palendurio. Its easier there. Not easy. But easier.

Ibrahim shook his head. No, he said.

A mule wished it had a fraction of your stubbornness.

Its what makes me a good student, Ibrahim grinned, waving the letter. Then the grin faded, and his gaze turned back to the northeast. He still remembered the day. Hed found his parents in the marketplace, where the fighting had been worse. His sister, though, shed been in school across town. That hadnt saved her. He didnt know where his cousins or aunt had been; he only found them laid out on the street later, where hed told the red-eyed city officials trying to update the census records their names. He shook his head. No amount of meditation and exercises had ever dulled those memories. Rostal thought he just needed more time. He, of all people, should have understood. Think theyll let me study middle-era Triarchic dervish ceremonies?

Rostal snorted. They wont. They might let you study late-era sanitation practices. He clamped a steady hand on Ibrahims shoulder. Im proud of you, boy.

Thanks, Ibrahim said, and brought his own hand on top of Rostals. When theyd first met, only Rostals hands had been tough and calloused. Now both of them were. Ill see what I can find in the libraries. If I can find any of those scrolls or books, Ill make copies and send them to wherever you are. But I cant leave. No matter what happens, this is my home. He shook his head, and his gaze grew distant. He could see the Setarab River and the vibrant green by its banks. Beyond it, distant rolling sands. A two-headed vulture wheeling in the sky. The faintest streak of clouds catching the evening light. There was a pain that lingered in the bones of the city. And yet

He whispered, I

***

Xecatl of Uxalak ran shrieking through the forest. Her mother gave a shout as, with her strong arms, picked her up and raised her high to spin in circles. Xecatls joyous cries echoed through the trees.

Ive got you now, her mother growled, and soon enough, Xecatl was being ruthlessly tickled and her shrieks only redoubled.

A bit later, both of them were lying on the ground looking up at the trees. Notice how all the leaves get close to each other up there, but they still dont touch? she asked.

Xecatl groaned. Is this gonna be another lesson? she asked.

Her mother sighed. You still dont understand the politics of it. Tlaxhuaco will need you to be smart and strong.

The little girl sighed. I know, momma.

Youll understand. I promise.

She didnt understand. She knew, but only because what she needed to know had been repeated so many times. Momma today can we just play in the forest more?

There was a long pause. This was usually when her mother was planning on saying an elaborate no and wanted to have a lesson that went along with it. But then she sighed and said, Fine. Ill tell your tutors to take a break. Just today, okay?

YES! Xecatl said, jumping to her feet. And then she was off, dashing through the forest. Yaaay! she said, letting the branches scrape her as she careened through the underbrush. I!

***

Do we have to go? Gabriel Arjen whined, looking at the tickets on the table for the ship theyd be boarding in two days.

Yes, his father said gruffly.

I thought you hated it here, his mother said, ruffling his hair.

Well, yeah, but you know. Ive got my friends.

And that girl he has a crush on, his father said in a stage whisper.

Dad!

His mother laughed. Well well be back soon enough. The embassy just likes to see its flock come home every so often. Now go pack your things.

Gabriel didnt say anything. They were all supposed to pretend that his mother worked for the Akanan embassy instead of the RID.

That evening, he snuck out of the city the same route he normally did. His mother was having him followed, but shed accepted he was going to keep doing this, so as long as he did so competently, she let him. He made his way up to his favorite spot on the bluff and watched the last bits of twilight dip below the Obcassium Ocean.

Two days later, he watched those same bluffs drifting away as they sailed north.

His heart was split. He enjoyed the civilization of Akana, and there were parts of Persama he detested. And yet, as Urubandar faded in the distance, he found himself getting homesick already.

Years later, firebolt wand in pocket, he made his way up to those same bluffs. His leave from Mahatan would last another few days. Or maybe, it would last the rest of his life. He pulled his wand out of his pocket and looked it over. It seemed like it should be dripping blood, but it was clean. His hands were clean, too, and that was wrong.

Experimentally, he pointed the wand at his temple.

Then he lowered it. And raised it. Then lowered it again. Then he put his head in his hands and wept.

It wasnt supposed to be like this, he thought.

For a long time, he sat on the edge of the cliff. There was another route. Would it be less painful? Or more? Which one did he deserve?

Eventually, the tears dried on his cheeks, and he sat there, looking at the sunset glimmering off the shattered-glass waves, enraptured by the beauty. How could it exist in a world like this?

Just as hed thought so many years ago, he thought, I

***

Liuan Var let the priests scepter touch her shoulders. and thus, I induct you into the second layer of mysteries. As They bore Their heart to us, we must bare ours.

We stand in Their light. We share Their grace, Liuan said, and rose, smiling. The rest of the ceremony took hours more, but it was that moment, standing before the statue of the Ominian, that Liuan remembered.

She emerged from the church into an overcast day. This part of Ferrabridge had wound its way up onto the slopes of the northern hills. There, Ferramont loomed dramatically behind her, and the rest of Ferrabridge was spread out to the south. It felt like a weight had lifted off her shoulders. A full priest! Not of a particularly large church, but it had been her dream for so long.

Congratulations, her mentor said, coming to stand by her side. You must be

That was when the light erupted. She saw it clearlya terrible, orange and violet geyser that ripped itself free from the earth. Where a factory had once been on the eastern edge of the city, there was suddenly a holeand a storm of fire and lightning, twisting about. Ferrabridge was burning.

Liuan stood there for a moment, mouth open, reeling at the horror of what she was witnessing. Then she knew exactly what to do. She gathered up the priests and everyone who was nearby. You allfind food and water, help gather t all and bring it east. Rescue workers will need it. You, run to the other churches, especially in the western part of the city where they might not know what happened. Tell them where to go. The rest of ustheyll need healers. She clutched her focus, and strode down the hill.

It took an hour to even reach that part of the city, and then it was hours and hours more before, at last, she let herself take a rest. The number of dead and wounded was unfathomable to her. Whatever had happened, it was no mere industrial accident, of that she was sure. Priests werent supposed to study the arcane arts, but shed been a curious child. She knew enough about how spell engines worked that she knew they couldnt explode like that.

She paused enough to drink from a waterskin and tear off a piece of bread to chew on, then strode back into the fray. An hour later, she was dealing with soul-strain, and one of her fellow priests threatened to take away her focus if she kept trying to heal people.

A reporter found her when she was resting.

Youre the priest who went into the factory when it was still burning? Heard a lot about you.

She nodded. Anyone would have done it.

fraid the evidence is they didnt, but you did. Id like to feature you in a story, if thats alright. When she didnt say anything, he continued. Whyd you do it?

Because I

***

Troytin Partting stood on the deck with most of the rest of the crew, leaning against the railing, laughing and pointing. Theyd had to leave at night for their test flight of the Republics Justice with a dozen skiffs providing illusion screens to cover the ascent until they were out of sight of Arborholm, but now, the freezing winds and long nights were worth it. Dawn revealed the great northern forests and the Akanan frostlands just beyond. Magnificent didnt even begin to describe it. Someone began passing around a bottle ofsomething, all Troytin knew was that it had a hell of a biteand the officers, for once, either looked the other way or joined in the celebrations.

The way the snow dusted the treetopsthe way the white peaks loomed on the horizon. The way the morning light played off the heavy clouds, giving them such contrast. They could see for miles, and it was all beautiful. The frigid wind bit them to the bone, but it was worth it.

My country, he thought, proudly. Everything was looking up for him. First, a lucky break in his career, and now, a breakthrough project that would change everything. Looking around at his friends among the crew and their expressions, looking down at beautiful Akana Praediar, Troytin couldnt help but think, I

***

Naluri Nezzar was a child, holding her mothers hand. Together, as they gazed out at the desert, seeing the spires of color-streaked stone and wild skies, she would think it.

When Mirian Castrella was a bit older and the temper-tantrums werent so bad, when she and her family would go up on the cliffs and nice old Grandpa Irabi would tell the children tall tales, she would look out at the fields and distant mountains and think it.

When she was older still, attending the preparatory school in Madinahr, sometimes she and he friends would head over to the docks. Shed gaze out at the bay, and sometimes, theyd see the sunset reflecting off the water, see the billowing sails of ships, see flocks of birds slowly gliding through the sky, and shed think it.

When she arrived in Torrviol, her breath was taken away by the ancient buildings and grand forests, the icy peaks of the Littenords, and the vibrant blue waters of Torrviol Lake. Again and again, shed think, I

***

So many branches on the paths of time would be lost. Every memory of Divitrius, every wonder they witnessed, every sunrise they stood before. But they would give it all up, because even if they were to be forgotten, the fields of time were worth painting with experiences of beauty. The plants and animals of Enteria could never walk their full breadth, but that didnt matter. Even if it was temporary, it was worth it.

Across time, she heard the Prophets say it together as one, and feel it deep in their hearts. Across time, the Prophets spoke, and Divitrius knew who they would choose:

I love this place.

The Elder Gods had no word for love, only a deep feeling of it, and an emphasis that only came with heartfelt repetition. They would sacrifice themself because Divitrius loves this place.

And for Enteria, Divitrius sent out one last hope, one last chancethe last of the temporal needles that were keeping them alive.

Before Mirian, the burning branches parted. Atop the crown of that burning tree from her visions, she saw glistening green leaves, untouched by fire. The flows of her soul changed, like a field of flowers unfurling in spring after a long winter, like a dawn after the darkest night.

The path was clear.

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