30. Chapter Thirty

NYMIA

Thirty seconds ago

Ipause time for him. For Chaos. My magic stretches thin, wrapping around the seconds, stopping them. Here in the vastness of the Aether Plains, my magic is just as powerful as his. But today, I am the wielder of destinies.

Chaos, the one I owe everything, stands on the brink of oblivion. His soul has left his body, but I cushion it between my palms.

I can't watch him disappear—not without intervening. My essence, once cursed to this eternal expanse, now surges with a final, definitive purpose. I consumed all the bloodvines, the shadow wraiths, and will-o'-wisps decades ago, helping fuel my reserve of magic.

Drawing on every ounce of power I have left, I cradle his lifeline in a bubble of stilled time, separating him from the death march. The cost of this magic is my very existence, but the decision comes as easily as breathing.

With each spell I cast, I feel my form begin to unravel, my being merging with the winds and whispers of the Plains. "This is my last stand, Chaos," I murmur into the stillness, my voice barely a ripple in the frozen air. "A final act to ensure your future and one last fuck you to Eliron."

As the power leaves me, it tears at the fabric of the Aether Plains, initiating an implosion that promises to ensure no one can be trapped here ever again. This is my prison, and I will consume it, too. My vision dims, but my heart—if I still had one—would be swelling with peace.

"Be well, old friend." I whisper a silent farewell as I dissolve. My last perception is of the darkness, welcoming and warm, an embrace I've longed for since time immemorial. I smile, knowing Chaos is safe, and his path secured by my sacrifice. I fade, content, into nothingness.