|Mianite| The Missing Woman

The Finale

"ALVA!" Declan was shrieking at the top of his lungs. Martha caught him as he chased her. He looked like he was ready to jump off the edge after her. She wrapped her arms around him, trying to calm his shaking as she too began crying softly.

Champwan walked over to him, unsure of what to do and dumbfounded at what Alva had done. The smug expression he had worn in his knowledge of the curse on the god when the others tried standing up to Mianite had vacated his face.

Champwan wanted to comfort Declan, to make him his again, but he did not know how and the older man pushed him away as he got nearer.

"Impossible!" A cloaked figure descended from a puff of smoke towards the remaining heroes. "That was not supposed to happen!"

"Give it up already!" Dianite shouted, suddenly again at Mot's side.

"Shut up boy!" World Historian shouted, directing his spite at his one remaining child. "You were all mistakes! I should never have instilled my trust in the three of you! Just look at you; so weak. What, you can't handle a little death? You're already completely worn out?"

"And I should never have followed you," Dianite said back calmly. "You have done nothing other than mislead me my whole life."

World Historian screamed in anger and lunged towards Dianite, only to find him no longer standing where he had been mere seconds before. So he instead took his anger out on the god's champion. A ball of energy formed in his palm moments before he fired it at Mot, who had no time to react.

He landed with a thud against one of the piles of ash and stone that had fallen onto the island from the still crumbling cavern. The shadowy figure loomed over him when two of the others, Sonja and Tucker, attacked him before he could make another move.

Their actions were perfectly in sync from their years at each other's side, but it was not enough to counter the powerful being. He flung them aside just as Tom and Mot leapt into the action.

The situation only deteriorated from then on. On a normal day Tom and Mot could have fought together with entirely synchronous motions. Any move that one would make the other already knew would happen because they were, after all, the same mind working together.

Today however, those minds were nearly as broken as Jordan's, who stood off to the side entirely consumed within his. He shook with fear and insanity as his friends fought without him, feeling as if he had lost a child.

Mot's emotions had been shaken badly. After years of waiting, he had finally gotten his love back, only to have to witness his murder moments later. And then one of his little girl's best friends had killed herself to save him from dying a third time.

And Tom had lost the two people he loved; one to Death and the other to Insanity.

They swung clumsily at World Historian, desperately trying to overwhelm him, but he only laughed and fought back with minimal effort. James, Tucker, and Sonja rejoined them, but to no avail.

Your arrows... A voice whispered to Jordan. Use your arrows.

Jordan pulled himself out of his trance-like state at the sound of his lady's voice. He looked around with fresh tears on his cheeks, hoping desperately to put a face to the voice.

Quickly my hero, it said again, much more urgently. Your arrows. Your friends need you. I hate to see you like this. You must be strong for me. For Capsize and Alva; for your Ianite.

Sonja screamed again as World Historian caught her arm and held a dagger to her throat. She looked too tired to fight back and everyone else lay on the ground, exhausted from their futile attacks.