"Are you certain that's what the Book says?" Prince Charles muttered. He and Aucteros sat cloaked in the shadows of a tavern booth, half-lit by flickering lanternlight. The laughter and music of the festival outside boomed through the walls.
Aucteros didn't answer at first. He flipped a page of his floating black tome with a lazy flick of his finger.
"Indeed," he finally said, voice quiet and venomous. "It seems Veronica is more shrewd than I realized. If only I'd seen her potential before she chose Rhenvar… she would have handed me this world on a platter."
He looked at Charles. Cold. Amused. Disappointed.
And you? You've given me nothing.
Charles scowled. "I heard that."
"You should be focusing," Aucteros replied, unbothered. "Scan the crowd. Find one of those cloaked fools."
"My blessing has range," Charles snapped, "but it doesn't let me rifle through hundreds of minds like you flipping through your little bedtime story."
"The rebels will strike soon; the others are near," Aucteros murmured. "That will be our opening. The King and the Crown Prince, they're using themselves as bait. Which means they've committed to forcing our hands. And with the increase in security the rebels are doomed to fail. We have only one option."
Aucteros leaned back.
Charles folded his arms. "So, what now? They've herded us into one narrow path. I feel like a lion in a cage."
"A cornered lion," Aucteros said, tapping his book, "is the most dangerous kind."
"Not when the ones doing the cornering are a pack of hunters."
Aucteros' smile widened.
Good. Let them think they're the hunters.
Then, outside.
A scream. Shouts. Panic. Steel clashing. Fire cracking in the distance.
Aucteros' eyes gleamed, catching the red of festival torches through the tavern window.
"It begins."
Outside, the festival had become a battlefield.
From the shadowed tavern booth, Aucteros watched as the first screams turned to cries of war. Smoke rose behind the crowd. Torchlight danced across noble banners and overturned tables. What had once been laughter was now the hiss of steel and the crack of spells lighting the air.
"We move," Aucteros whispered.
He slipped into the crowd like seasoned a thief. Charles followed reluctantly; head lowered beneath his hood, one hand on the sword at his belt. Blood splattered across cobblestones. Rebels surged from alleyways, faces masked, armor mismatched, breathing wild. One group struck hard, slashing at royal knights, another ignited enchanted bombs in the streets.
"For freedom!" Someone roared.
Fools. The original author probably shoehorned them in to create drama. Still, it's useful. Despite the extra security.
The church's paladins responded in kind. Divine glyphs flared on their clean breastplates. Halberds and lances shimmered with blessings. Arrows rained from windows above as trained archers swapped positions. More holy guards appeared, their golden cloaks billowing as they engaged the rebels head-on.
A rebel sword met a blessed shield and shattered.
A knight fell with a scream as his legs were severed from his body.
The festival square turned crimson with blood.
Charles pulled his hood lower. "This is madness."
"This is design," Aucteros corrected. "It only looks like madness when you're not the author."
He tapped his book. Its pages twitched, gold glyphs crawling across the surface.
A column of fire burst beside them, Willow's fire cut through a rebel force with controlled destruction.
Aucteros clenched his jaw. "Too early."
They weren't supposed to act yet. That fire drew too much attention.
"Split," he told Charles. "I'll move toward the cathedral. You circle left. The King's personal guard is on the lower section of the balcony. Take out the commander and wait for my dimension door.
Charles looked nervous. "What about the girl? Felicia?"
Aucteros smiled thinly. "If she dies in the chaos, she dies."
We need to win this.
They separated.
Aucteros wove through the smoke, past a knight wrestling a rebel into the mud, past a Church paladin driving his glowing spear through two men in ragged cloaks. He moved with practiced grace, never fighting, never slowing. Where the world burned, he slithered.
Then.
He saw her.
Sinephilim.
The Demon Queen stood poised on the cathedral balcony, flanked by Felicia. Their presence felt divine, surreal, queens sculpted from power and beauty. Behind them, the King and Prince stood amid radiant holy wards. A dozen elite guards formed an unbreakable wall.
There are many but not enough.
He snuck up to the balcony. His eyes narrowed. "Time to write a new ending." He raised his book.
Let's try Viir's little spell. It's not as strong, but it's enough.
Words twisted themselves into the air, dark, ancient syllables. A curse born from another world.
The ground cracked beneath the square.
Black tendrils erupted from the cobblestones, writhing like serpents. They lashed out, choking, binding, dragging. Rebel and knight alike screamed as they wrapped around their legs, dragging them to the ground.
Sinephilim's head snapped toward him; and she saw him.
Their eyes met.
Aucteros' looked determined.
BOOM!
A flash of light detonated beside him. A spell, hot and fast.
He staggered back, shielding his face.
Willow.
The elven prince walked beside Felicia, red cloak flapping, fire wreathed in his hands. Eyes filled with pure hatred.
"Aucteros," Willow spat.
"I'm flattered," Aucteros said. "But I don't have time to banter."
He raised his hand.
The book pulsed.
A gate opened. Just behind the King.
Charles stepped through. His mind blessing useless.
Steel gleamed in his hand.
Willow moved but he was too far.
Felicia screamed, "No!"
Charles lunged, blade aimed for the King's back.
A cloaked woman appeared.
Veronica.
She rushed forward, pushing the king aside only to become the blade's new target.
Before it connected.
A shadow exploded under her.
Rhenvar.
He crashed into Charles, knocking him toward Aucteros. Souleater drawn, shadows howling around him.
Aucteros used light magic, stripping all shadows from his feet.
The ground cracked.
The book's magic stuttered.
Rhenvar rose slowly, helmetless, eyes wide with thirst. His crimson sword's glow reaching to feed.
"I see you're using Souleater," Aucteros snarled.
"Well, there's one bitch ass soul I want." Rhenvar looked excited, his voice hungry.
Then he charged.
The spellbook flared in panic. Pages turned themselves.
Aucteros threw up a barrier of light, but Rhenvar cleaved through it.
Shadow met the master of fate.
Aucteros twisted, barely dodging the next swing, Souleater swinging past. It sounded like the cry of a thousand souls, cutting through a barrier of conjured light like nothing.
One touch by that blade and it's over.
He summoned another spell, blinding, desperate, fast.
Willow answered with flame. A fireball slammed into the ground at Aucteros' feet, forcing him to leap back, cloak smoking.
"It seems," Aucteros hissed, coughing on smoke, "you can bend fate after all."
He crouched beside Charles' unconscious form.
"Fools," he murmured, fingers brushing the tome. "Enjoy this world while it lasts." And with a flick of his wrist, the floating book glowed. He and Charles vanished into the void.
****
The Void.
The place between pages. Between the worlds.
Aucteros drifted through its emptiness, a thousand voices whispering from the folds of his book. All around him, silence. And in that silence, defeat.
"Damn them," he muttered. "They wouldn't understand."
They wouldn't understand all these worlds are looping. They have their story and it resets. Every story truly never ends… but my God gave me the mission to save them.
To collect them.
To be their salvation from the terrible unending future they are destined for.
It's nothing to those false Gods, just entertainment. Such fools.
He grit his teeth.
Now they are threats. When they could have just let me save them. I don't plan on awakening any world powers. That would destroy the world you use.
He sighed. "One man really can't complete this divine mission."
He stared at Charles' unconscious body, floating beside him like a puppet with its strings cut.
"Still," Aucteros smiled faintly. "Not all is lost."
"So, they want to build a team? So, can I. I'll need a counter to Rhenvar. He's just too powerful to deal with on my own. And Charles is useless."
His book fluttered open to a new page, glowing faintly with a name he hadn't read before.
A ruined village.
A feared witch.
A legendary hero in her grips.
The Queen of Crows.
"When he wakes up," Aucteros said, "we'll find her."
He closed the book with a snap.
"She'll be perfect."
The perfect person to kill Rhenvar.