Everkant ep. 20 - 1st Draft

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He can see the result of his work as he lays down the sword he conjured with creation magic. There's not much of a flame anymore, but the heat is enough to burn his hand. 'This soon, huh?' he asks himself, expecting a non-answer from the gods. 'I'd figure you'd strip me away.' he says, resigned to his undeniable fate. There's only silence and the echo of their voices in his head. All the screams, the agony, the pain, the dazzling light that he unleashed unto the world. Amidst all of it, he can distinguish a low sob. The baby kind. The kind that you can't tell if it's happy or sad. The kind that's just begging for someone, something, to answer. 'At least, he'll survive.' Only a couple of meters away, he sees him. The child he chose over the world.

Why would he do that? They ask.

He can feel his strength fading. His legs becoming weaker until he can longer stand. His flesh becoming nothing more than crispy scabs along with the intolerable pain that the gods would make sure to prolong as long as they could. Yet, looking at him, he can't feel anything else but joy.

'I'd choose you over a million lives.' he says with a genuine smile.

Those would become his last words before the child and before the gods as he flinted away back into the scorched earth, fruit of his work. 

Why would he that? We ask.



AUTHOR'S NOTE: I am well aware that "flinted" might not exist or even be correct, but that's the word/verb I found/created that made sense. Call it laziness, if you will. It works though.