Etheros was broken. Etheros was defeated.

His body was wounded and bleeding. A wolf-like paw laid upon his throat, preventing him from casting any more spells. Not like they would save him. He could feel the smelly breath of the daemon’s two heads closing in, leering and in mockery. They chuckled with malicious glee at his limp form. Their eyes were black as tar, glittering with sadism in the dying light of the lab.

Etheros closed his eyes. All he could do now was wait for the end.

……………………………………………..

Earlier that day.

Few things were more comforting to Etheros than a warm, clear sunrise.

Something about how the sun peeked over the horizon, and the tranquil silence, before most folks get out of their beds, and those that do are calmed by their recent slumber.

The old stone bridge crossing the creek provided the perfect place to watch. Whenever he was in Yanneros, he always found time to visit. The trees formed an ideal frame over the morning sun, especially in summer. It was an unchanged locale, far older than him. The bridge might even predate Adam, the first Godshard, twelve centuries prior.

He wondered if Adam had ever stopped here and watched the sunrise. Terra knows Etheros wandered many of the same paths Adam did, but who could say if this was one of them?

Etheros rose to his feet and stretched his legs. He had a busy day ahead of him. He needed to get to Selima. The Yannari emperor did not lend his labs lightly. Etheros had to make the most of it.

He searched his grey robes, examining the array of embroidered sacks covered in alchemical symbols. Etheros frowned; one of them felt lighter than it should be. Iron. He needed more iron. The rules of alchemy must be obeyed for the equivalent exchange to come. An easy fix. No matter—metal, ore, or otherwise—was out of reach. Not to a Shard of his power and one of his magical leaning.

Etheros closed his eyes. Yes, he could feel it. The ores were calling to him—tiny specks of iron in a nearby foothill. It was a small ore, but it would suffice. He reached his arms out and began to chant. His glowing eyes brightened as he cast the spell, the words of the Old Tongue leaping off his lips. His voice boomed with great power as the foothill cracked and holes pierced the stone; tiny iron pieces reflected off the morning sun. Etheros gestured his hands to one of his sacks, and the metal obeyed, flying in a small cloud into the pouch. Etheros smiled when the spell was completed.

………………….

The sun was high in the sky when Etheros entered Selima. The city was vibrant and full of life. The market stalls were open with their wares in a dazzling display of color. People gathered to and fro, and the haggling of merchants filled the air. As Etheros turned the corner, he stumbled upon a group of children frolicking in the street. Etheros smiled warmly as he passed them. They were playing a game; he could hear them.

One was playing Deimos, a great ghoul ravager; most of the rest were playing ghouls, and one was playing . . . him? Ah, it made sense now. The game was based on a great battle he had fought decades prior. The ghouls had come from the south, and he had faced Deimos in single combat, using his alchemical might to best him.

He smiled; what a legacy to have. It was flattering, but a little strange. He watched them play for a while—eventually, “Etheros” killed “Deimos,” and the other kids cheered.

“I want to be just like him when I grow up,” one of them said.

Another rolled his eyes. “You can’t; you’re not a Godshard.”

“You don’t have to be,” said Etheros as he strode to the group. The children gasped in wide-eyed adoration. They instantly gathered around him, cheering in excitement. Etheros got on one knee, on the same level as the boys. “What’s your name, child?”

“Andreas, Mr. Etheros,” he said. The boy was nervous and had difficulty looking Etheros in the eye.

Etheros smiled and said, “You might not be a Godshard, but the teachings of Adam apply to all.”

The second boy was skeptical and asked, “Are you really the Wizard Etheros? Etheros killed Deimos forty years ago; I heard he was as old as my grandpa then.”

Etheros chuckled heartily. “I am indeed the same Etheros.”

The other boys scowled at the skeptical one. “Don’t be rude, Murad!” said one.

“Yeah,” agreed another, “Godshards live longer than normal people.”

Murad shrank back and said, “Apologies, Mr. Etheros, sir. I-I didn’t know that.”

Etheros was serene. “It’s fine, Murad. Everyone makes mistakes; embrace the fact you learned something new today.”

“You’re smart and wise and a Godshard Wizard,” said Andreas. “How could I ever be like you?”

Etheros turned back to him. “I meant what I said; the teachings of Adam apply to all. Life is an ever-expanding process; you must embrace it. Adam said that life is what you make it. Always try to be better than you were yesterday. Respect your elders and help one another. If you do this and stick to it, you can be as great a hero as any Godshard.”

Etheros stood. “Watch this,” he said with a smile. He began to mutter a spell, finishing the incantation by flinging some particles from one of his sacks into the air. With a loud pop, they exploded into spectral butterflies. The children cheered as the butterflies fluttered and played with them. Etheros chuckled to himself as he went on his way.

As Etheros walked past the nearby temple, the polished white stone and the blue intricately patterned dome radiated in the sun. He spared a glance inside. It was quiet. The statues of the Gods were clean, the mosaics polished. All the shrines looked well taken care of, and the shamans kept everything running smoothly. No issues there.

But something outside the temple gave him pause. A young man in rich red silk with a small red fez hat sat beside the wall. His head in his hands.

Ah, he knew this man. Ahmed. He was sixteen winters the last time Etheros saw him. He looked older now, of course. It had been a few years, after all.

Ahmed turned to Etheros as he approached, his teary-eyed face brightening . “Etheros! I’m glad to see you.”

Etheros sat beside him and said, “Glad to see you too. What’s wrong, Ahmed? You look on the verge of tears.”

“My parents are going to send me off to a school in the capital come summer’s end.”

“That sounds wonderful! Why so glum about it?”

“I-I don’t want to go.”

Etheros grew sad and asked, “Why not? That sounds like an adventure and a half, especially for someone so young!”

“But it’s such a big city, and I don’t know anybody there. It’s overwhelming!”

“Think of the potential. So many places to explore, things to try, and new people you’ll meet. You’ll make friends in time, I’m sure of it. You have a golden opportunity here, my friend. If I were you, I’d embrace—”

Ahmed rolled his eyes, “Yeah, yeah. I should embrace the chance to learn something new. You always say that. But what if the ‘something new’ is something terrible? What if the other kids treat me like garbage or take advantage of me? What if the teachers hate me? What if I accidentally turn a wrong corner and get mugged, or worse? New isn’t inherently good, you know?”

Etheros sighed; he could see that Ahmed was sincere in his concerns. Adam always said never to force his beliefs on others. “That is all true,” said Etheros. “If you genuinely feel this way, perhaps you should tell your parents you want to wait a bit.”

Ahmed grew nervous at his change of tone. “Are you sure? You wouldn’t look down on me if I did that?”

Etheros shook his head. “There is an old friend of mine, a fellow Godshard. Her name is Avella. I’ve known her for nearly eighty years! She’s from the Triad, west of here. She became a Godshard when she was seven. Her mother sought me out since I was in the area. There were other Godshards, too; they didn’t share the same beliefs as me. They were from the sacerdozio, an organization based out of the Cradlelands. In the Island City. She had to choose who she wanted to go with, me or them.”

“Who did she choose?”

“She chose the sacerdozio because she believed in their values—those of the Godshard brothers David and Solomon—and that those teachings were the best. I honored her wishes. Despite this, we keep in contact as much as we can. We still disagree on these matters, but she’s still my friend, and we have mutual respect even now. You need to follow your heart.”

“But what will my parents say?”

“Avella’s family was disappointed, but they eventually came around. I know your parents will too. You’re still their son, after all. I truly believe you would be wise to go, but you’re a grown man capable of making your own decisions. Whatever you choose, you have my support, and I wish you all the best.”

Ahmed gave a slight grin.

………………

It had taken Etheros a while to finish his rounds. There were many people whom he spoke to, and many he helped. Whether they needed his magical power or words of wisdom, Etheros saw to their needs. Such has been his life for over two centuries. Etheros wouldn’t have it any other way. Not everyone was blessed with a Shard of their fallen God. Etheros, much like Adam before him, sought to use his considerable power to help his people. All Godshards did, and many have risen to the challenge. The stories of Godshards echoed from shore to shore. Etheros hoped his legacy would match his forbears.

The sun was waning in the sky when he finally made it to the lab. A cohort of heavily armored sipahi was there waiting for him. Their scaled armor, helms, and round metal shields glimmered in the afternoon sun. One stepped forward as Etheros approached, his armor more ornate, with feathers on each side of his helm. He gave a bemused smirk and said, “You’re late, Wizard Etheros.”

Etheros stared at the man a long time before returning the grin. “We Adamites move at our own pace, Hessam, not yours.” Hessam chuckled as the two embraced. “How’s Amelia and Shahir?”

“They’re doing fine. Shahir is constantly asking about you. He loves the little automaton you gave him.”

“I’ll have to visit soon, then.”

Hessam nodded and said, “You’re always welcome in our home. You’ve done so much for us.”

Etheros bowed. “I merely follow the teachings of Adam.”

Hessam gestured Etheros inside the lab. It was quite extensive; great bookshelves provided a bastion wall to the tables in the center. Strange mechanical devices, beakers, and flasks were laid on the tables. Hessam closed the doors behind him. Etheros gestured to the door and said, “I’d stay outside if I were you. This could get . . . dangerous.”

“How long will it take?” asked Hessam.

“I cannot say; this type of experimentation goes at its own pace.”

Hessam rolled his eyes as he exited the room, shutting the door behind him.

Etheros muttered a spell in the Old Tongue, his glowing eyes illuminating the room as various metals shuffled out of his multiple sacks. Each metal went into its own pile on the center table. His voice boomed, echoing throughout the room. Scattered metal particles from many of the sacks began to heat up and merge together. A pile of sand melted in a white-hot blaze turning into a circular glass form.

As the chanting continued, all of the scattered pieces combined. A small row of cylinders arrayed themselves, a long column with two sharp pieces nearly touching formed next to it, the glass covering it. Strings of metal finished the job, tying it all together.

The spell was at last complete. Etheros pulled out a notebook, examining his contraption from every angle, writing notes and mumbling to himself as he did so. He took a step back to admire his handiwork.

“Alright,” Etheros muttered, “time for the hard part.” He took a deep breath and began another spell, conjuring a small lightning bolt with a blue flash, twirling around his fingers. With a final command, he shot the bolt into the long column.

Nothing happened.

Etheros grumbled and raised his hands; he began chanting once more. More metal pieces of different shapes, colors, and textures were added and removed from the device over the span of several hours. The machine heated and cooled at Etheros’ whim. He took notes with every failed attempt. No matter what alloy Etheros created or how strong the bolt was, no light could be conjured.

Etheros was panting; casting so many spells in a comparatively short time was taxing, even on him. He had to give it one last try! After changing the alloy again for the umpteenth time, Etheros shot another bolt in anger.

The lab exploded.

Blue fire and smoke filled the lab, and splintered wood and shattered metal went everywhere. Hessam and the other guardsmen burst through the doors in an instant. The buzzing in Hessam’s ears drowned out his coughing. He turned to the center of the lab, his eyes wide. “Etheros!”

The clearing smoke revealed Etheros sitting in frustration with his head in his hands. A radiant blue barrier surrounded him. A typical Godshard passive spell, it had kept Etheros more than safe. The cinders and lingering flame circled him like distant stars. “Blast it!” He shouted.

Hessam sighed in relief upon seeing his old friend alive. He looked around the remnants of the lab and grumbled. The Yannari Emperor would not be pleased with this.

Etheros was unbothered by the mess, and he crawled on the tiled floor, looking for any parchments that might have survived. He was so close! He just knew it.

Hessam saw the desperate display and groaned, “What devilry are you doing here, Etheros?”

Etheros turned to Hessam, startled, and stumbled to his feet. “It will be my latest and greatest work. It is a light source that doesn’t require flame!”

Hessam scratched his head. “What’s wrong with torches or candles?”

“It would be safer and require no fuel. You could make it far brighter than any flame. In theory, it’s not even that difficult, at least for me. I could use an alchemy spell to change the properties of the metal, channel a lightning bolt through said metal, and keep the current in place with a holding spell. I could even bind it to specific users so that it would glow or dim based on their wishes. Such a bind is so simple that even lesser Shards could replicate it. This could be huge! The people of Yanneros would be safer in the dark and be able to do more in it.

Hessam was unmoved. “His Majesty will not be pleased with the damage to his lab.”

Etheros gave a dismissive wave. “It is of no concern. I can repair it.”

Hessam looked around at the mess, concern in his eyes. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“My mastery in alchemy spells has served me well before. Furthermore, it is the Adamite way to experiment, to try new things; hazards such as these are part of the job sometimes.” Hessam grumbled but said nothing. Etheros tilted his head and said, “What’s wrong?”

Hessam shook his head. “I’m just an old soldier; my opinion wouldn’t be worth your time.”

“Hardly. You’re a valued friend; speak your mind openly.”

Hessam took a deep breath. “You said you want to try new things, but what if you make things worse? New doesn’t always mean good. That tiny contraption caused a large explosion from a few metals and lightning. I know of many dark-hearted soldiers in His Majesty’s armies that would love to use such a thing to their ends. Maybe some things should be left alone.”

Etheros’ glowing eyes flickered. “It is possible.” Etheros’ voice was somber and more reserved than usual. “Gunpowder has proven to be quite the blight, for example. I’ve seen how the Imperial Solis legions devastated cities and towns with their black fire.” Etheros’ hands shook, and his eyes grew distant. “And the sacerdozio Godshards went along with them. I didn’t want to hurt them, but I had no choice.”

Hessam laid a hand on Etheros’ shoulder and said, “Precisely my point; there’s a lot of evil in this world. Do you really want to give them more tools?”

Etheros turned to him. “But there are good people too. While there might be dark-hearted men in your army, there are also people like you. Imperial Solis fractured in protest to the actions of its legions. And even the sacerdozio Godshards saw the error of their ways. I will ensure this new technology is only used for good, or not at all, Hessam. You have my word on that.”

A thump in the dark snapped both men out of their revere. A growl soon followed.

Hessam turned grim, drawing his saber. The other guards formed up next to him. Hessam scanned the room. “Who’s there? Show yourself!” Twin sinister chuckles pierced the air as a large shape slinked in the shadows.

Etheros muttered an incantation as he reached into one of the embroidered sacks. He flicked the chunks of metal in the air as he finished his spell; yellow lights soon lit the entire room, bringing the creature into the light.

The men gasped.

It was a daemon.

The creature crawled on all fours. Its leonine form dragged a long serpentine tail with venomous spikes. It was two-headed, one was a tusked rabid boar, the other a smiling wolf. The beast had five horns, pointed straight like a unicorn. All four of its black eyes glared at them.

“Greetings, Etheros,” the daemon rasped; their voices boomed unnaturally through the air, causing the men to cringe at the sound. “We are Velo-Obitus.”

Etheros’ eyes narrowed. “You are not welcome here! Fall back to the underworld, wretched beast.”

The daemon gave a collective sigh. “Are you finished with your prattle? Because we have an assignment, and you must come along. Surrender now, and you won’t be harmed. Unfortunately, we fear you’re gonna make this more . . . painful.”

Etheros stood his ground, his glowing eyes brightened. “You’ve come here to your peril. Daemons are weak to magic, and I am a Shard of great power.”

The daemon roared before pouncing an instant later; only Etheros’ glowing blue barrier kept him safe. The monster still hit hard, and Etheros was sent careening into the wall by raw momentum.

Hessam pointed his sword at the daemon and shouted, “Kill him! For the emperor!” The guardsmen echoed the cry and charged. Sabers and halberds were drawn as they closed the distance. The daemon growled at their interference. Three guardsmen were decapitated with a whip of the daemon’s tail, painting the room red with arterial spray.

The rest of the sipahi pressed the attack; one stabbed the daemon with his halberd, gutting it and shoving it onto his back. Two more slashed at the exposed belly with their sabers. Hessam went for the throat. When they pulled back, the daemon went still in a puddle of its blackened blood.

Etheros was on his feet, and he examined the barrier. It was all but shattered! His eyes widened. Impossible; his barrier shouldn’t have been damaged at all! He turned to the grizzly sight.

“Get away from it! Hurry!” said Etheros.

“Why?” asked Hessam. “It’s dead.”

“Mortal weapons can’t kill daemons; only magical attacks can!”

As if on cue, the daemon began to move. Two of the daemon’s eyes opened, and its wounds began mending. Hessam’s face turned white.

“Our turn,” Velo-Obitus said icily.

The daemon lunged, and the wolf-head brought its teeth down on one soldier’s neck; blood flowed as the corpse fell from its jaw. Another great swipe tore through another guard; organs and bones carpeted the ground. Hessam was sent flying into the wall, his ruined armor pooling by his limp body as it vanished in a cloud of dust.

Etheros growled in anger. He muttered another spell, water cascading out of one of his sacks, the incantations causing the liquid to sizzle. The daemon turned to Etheros and pounced, but Etheros was ready and shot the acid at the daemon. It shrieked and wailed as its eyes leaked from their sockets. Soon, the acid melted the daemon’s flesh, causing the skin to fall off in sheets. The daemon slumped to the ground.

Before Etheros could even sigh in relief, the daemon stood up again. Etheros gasped. Impossible! Magical attacks always banished daemons! Etheros could only gawk as the daemon’s four eyes reformed. The skin and muscle regrew, and as the daemon fully healed, both heads grinned eagerly.

“How is this possible?” cried Etheros. “You should be banished!”

The daemon laughed. “Things have changed, old man. The daemon lords have formed a new alliance, and it has given us some new . . . benefits.”

Etheros read the daemon with his Soulsight, desperate to glean anything of use that most mortals would miss. The daemon was different; its presence was wrong. Etheros couldn’t pin down why.

Etheros had only a moment to react before the daemon rushed him again. A swipe of its claws shattered the barrier in a blue haze before tearing into the Godshard’s skin, adding fresh blood to the room. Etheros staggered back as three red lines trailed across his grey robes. He grit his teeth in pain.

Etheros panted as he began chanting another incantation. The metal from the surrounding rubble began to merge into a giant circular blade, heating with red-hot flame as it spun toward the daemon. The blade hit home, slicing the monster in half. The creature instantly went still with a wet thud. Etheros rasped in an attempt at a chuckle.

Let’s see him regenerate from that.

As if mocking Etheros, the two halves moved toward each other, crawling on tangled limbs and restitching together like a broken doll. The daemon stood before him once again. “Is that the best you can do?” the daemon snickered.

Etheros ignored the taunt and chanted another spell. The air next to the circling daemon began to sizzle. In mid-pounce, the air combusted into a tremendous explosion, incinerating what was left of the lab, and Etheros hoped the daemon with it. The room was filled with smoke and lingering flames. Etheros kept his eyes trained on the fire, his hand raised.

With a savage roar, the daemon cannoned through the flames. The wolf head bit down on the Godshard’s outstretched hand with a sickening crunch. Etheros didn’t even have time to scream before the boar head impaled him with one of its tusks and drove him into the floor. Another swipe of the beast’s claws kept Etheros pinned. One pressed down on his throat.

“You’re as powerful as our master claimed,” the daemon said with a facsimile of respect. “You will be most useful in their plans.”

The daemon yowled in sudden pain as a blade pierced one of its necks. Etheros opened his eyes to see Hessam slamming the wolf head with his shield.

Velo-Obitus loosened its grip on Etheros as Hessam pressed the attack, tackling and wrestling with the monster, rolling them away from Etheros. Hessam spared a glance at Etheros. Etheros tried to speak, urging him to flee, but Hessam shook his head; he’d made his choice. If he could buy Etheros time, he would, even at the cost of his own life.

“For the emperor, for the Godshards!” Hessam shouted defiantly before slashing at the daemon once more.

Etheros just lay there.

He was growing weaker; his body was wet with his own blood. A normal human might even be dead by now. He strained to get up, but his body was too weak. This was it. The daemon may want him alive, but Etheros was as good as dead either way, whether it was here or in the underworld.

He felt helpless. He felt fear. Etheros hadn’t felt this way since the Imperial Terror in his youth. Have the teachings of Adam failed at last? The words of Ahmed echoed in his head. They sounded more mean-spirited than they had earlier. Perhaps he’d been right.

No.

It’s the other way around. He was too complacent, too set in his ways. He needed to follow his own teachings! It was the Adamite way to adapt. This crisis was merely the latest hurdle for Etheros to overcome. The riddle of the daemon’s newfound power must be solved.

A surge of new pain brought Etheros back to the moment. He had to get out of the lab before he could do anything else, and he had very little time. Even now, Hessam was giving ground, his feet stumbling as he barely avoided a swipe of the daemon’s claws.

But where could Etheros go? Even if the emperor and his elite guard were there, they couldn’t save him. There was only one place that could.

The Island City.

Yes, he could evoke Exodus! He didn’t share the same beliefs as the sacerdozio, but Lazarus was an old friend. He had no choice. Etheros struggled to get his throat to move and his lips to speak.

The daemon slashed through Hessam’s round shield with a swipe of its claws. The wolf head grabbed onto Hessam’s sword arm, tearing it out of its socket; the walls turned crimson as Hessam wailed in agony. The daemon launched onto its prone form and tore into him, ripping chunks of flesh, his organs, and bones, adding to the carpet of meat on the floor.

Etheros teared up as he watched his friend die. Oh, Great Shepard, please save him from the jaws of the Underworld. Guide him home on safer flows in the Soul River. He was almost finished with the spell. The daemon turned to him and chuckled. “Such futile resistance, eh, Etheros?”

Etheros finished the spell, giving the daemon a grim smirk. In the next moment, a flash of burning light blinded the daemon, causing it to shriek and scamper back. As the light faded, the daemon turned to see Etheros gone. The boar’s head growled in rage, its side of the body thrashing violently.

The wolf head, Velo, smirked and said, “Easy, brother.”

“You let him get away,” the boar head, Obitus, answered, his voice more akin to snarling rasps than speech.

“Not for long. Etheros is hurt; if he dies, we will just capture his Shard then.”

“We need his mortal side too, you dolt.”

“Relax, we will have our prize. He might have gotten away, but he won’t get far. He will find that there is nowhere in this world that is safe!”

The boar head chuckled and said, “That is true. Besides, we have his scent.”

The daemon sniffed the air and smiled. In a burst of movement, they rushed from the lab, leaving chaos and death behind in their wake.

…………………………..

Etheros struggled to maintain his path as he rode the magical current; something was suppressing him, trying to get him to leave.

He could feel his mind slipping, as blood leaked from his many wounds; one of his hands was nearly severed. He groaned in agony as he struggled to hang on. He had to make it; he had to! Someone had to warn the Island City at all costs! But Etheros was fading; an encroaching blackness was starting to consume him.