Crimson Ascension

Finn knew something was wrong the moment red tendrils woven out of blood wrapped around his waist. A paranoid part of his mind, the miner that still lived inside a Sovran's body, told him about the pain to come—about Draven's betrayal. "It was an attack," it screamed, but Finn knew better.

He didn't resist the pull, nor did he try to fight the tendrils. Draven was stronger than he was on a normal day, but Amplified? Finn would stand no chance at breaking his constructs, and he knew it the same way he trusted his friend's intent. It wasn't an attack; Draven was trying to protect him.

But from what? The hexbeast is dead, Finn thought to himself. His eyes trailed to the sky. A dark cloud brimmed with unrestrained energy, strands of lightning igniting the air with an aura that made him shiver. It was the same cloud that had been following them for days, but why would it still be there at all? The Ruler of Shadows was dead.

Unless it never belonged to the slain beast. Unless it was an entirely distinct entity. Information about the central region of The Fallen's Tomb was scarce—none had lived to deliver their finding to the next incursion. That puzzled Finn to no end. The area was dangerous, riddled with hexbeasts, but their threat lay in numbers rather than individual strength. None of the Ascendant hexbeasts made this place their homes.

But as the lightning descended with enough power to wipe an Ascendance from reality, Finn understood why. Crimson hexion enveloped Draven's body in a glistening shield, but lightning pierced through without resistance. Draven burst into a cloud of blood and gore, smoke rising in the air from his charred remains, a crater the only proof of his last stand.

Elevalein roared, his eyes flickering with hexion. "No! Helion, Vaelor, stop resisting my command!"

Finn couldn't believe his eyes. Just like that? It can't end like this. This isn't what you told me, Korvax! No Empyrean could survive an attack of that magnitude. No matter how strong Draven was, to survive that would be impossible. The blood hovered in the air, as if hearing Finn's denial, revolving around the crater and congealing into a naked man.

"Run." It was all Finn could hear before a second bolt of lightning struck him in the head.

"Elevalein, do something!" Finn enhanced his body with hexion and struggled against the tendrils of blood. He expected his efforts to produce no results, but the constructs broke like rotten wood. "This isn't good. Elevalein, abyss take you!"

A hexion construct remained solid for as long as its creator had the will and attention to restrain the energy in their desired shape. But if the tendrils had broken under Finn's strength, that could only mean Draven was on the verge of death.

"I can't! My brothers… I can't reach a consensus between our wills." Blood ran down Elevalein's eyes. He shivered, limbs trembling as if exposed to a cold gale. "Please—"

"Your brothers are dead, you useless imbecile!" Finn could no longer keep it together. He had treated Elevalein with respect so far out of respect for his relationship with Draven, but no longer would he pretend. "You worthless piece of shit. Why don't you stand there and do nothing while your living brother dies?"

Finn didn't spare the Sovran another glance. How could he have ever relied on of them? He was growing soft. Confort dulled his edge. He would never commit the same mistake twice.

Hexion flowed inside his body, exiting his hands in the shape of a silver cloud. Finn didn't have the power to capture nightmares, not yet, but he could capture concepts—feelings others had while dreaming. Many dreamed of lacking speed in their sleep, while others could be easily harmed, and a rare few couldn't be harmed at all.

Finn used that concept, letting it take shape in the hexion exiting his body. Dream of Invincibility, he thought as the cloud flowed over to Draven and merged with his flesh. Pain laced Finn's soul as the effect of the Dream enhanced Draven's physical and spiritual resilience. Lightning bombarded his hexion, attempting to extinguish it.

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"A little… longer…" Finn fell to his knees, his reserve dwindling at a tremendous pace. "Hold!"

Manifesting Dream Concepts on others was taxing—to alter reality with the constructs of Daesvor took a heavy toll on whoever cast the projections. But he had to do it. It was the only tool in his arsenal that had a sliver of hope against whatever assailed Draven. Nightmares would do him no good, and Finn wasn't strong enough to summon a Dream Echo.

He felt Draven's soul in tatters, his shield all but in ruins. Was his friend still alive? After witnessing him reforming his body, Finn doubted anything could kill him, at least physically. Wounds to the soul, however, were another matter entirely. It was one of the many reasons even the strongest Empyreans feared Evokers.

Far to the south, Finn felt a familiar Presence heading their way, the power it emanated unshielded and unrestrained. It shone like a beacon amidst hexbeast-infested lands, awaiting a reply from those who might sense it. It's about time, old man. Finn couldn't help but smile. Helvan would know what to do, surely. He unfolded his Presence, letting it flare like a sun in the night.

"Finn." Helvan appeared to his side not a second later, Corvanis at his side. "I have been looking for the two of you for a long time."

"Cut the crap, old man," Finn said, the Chroner's sudden appearance not fazing him in the slightest. "I know you knew where we were. You always do."

Helvan pursed his lips at that. He looked at the dark cloud that enveloped Draven's body, bombarding him with strands of lightning, and nodded. "You are right. There is no longer a need for deception, not anymore."

"So go help him!" Sweat poured into Finn's eyes, but he refused to blink. The Dream of Invincibility required his focus—even speaking to Helvan was a distraction he could barely afford. "I'm almost running out of hexion."

"What is that… thing?" Corvanis shivered. "It is alive. It feels like a Presence, like the will of an Empyrean, but it cannot be."

"That is a sliver of the will of Untaak'Dor, the Fallen God." Helvan promptly sat on the ground, watching as Draven's body got torn apart and reforged in seconds.

"What are you doing?" Finn shouted, the rage almost making him lose grip on his Art. "He needs your help—"

"No, Finn. I will not help. I would not save him, even if I had the power to do so. Draven must survive this on his own; otherwise, there is no point. An unused weapon will lose its edge. The last Catalyst can only be achieved with death." Helvan spoke, voice frigid as ice. "The shackles of fate have bound all Archons before him, dooming us to fail before we even rose to power. If Draven is to succeed where I failed, he must break them."

"You almost sound like my father," Elevalein said, limbs still shaking. A frown appeared on his forehead, his eyes becoming colder, focused.

"Your father? Indeed. If I remember correctly, the last words he spoke to me were similar." Helvan's voice was unperturbed, peaceful. "He shall stand before that which has died, shall die, and yet shall die again. In the ruins of will and the cinders of self, the Last Archon shall rise, forged in blood and retribution."

"My father could see the future, but he was blind to the present—to the things right in front of his face." Elevalein stopped trembling. "If you won't help, then I will." He lowered his voice, as if mumbling to himself. His eyes were closed, the frown on his face gone. "Helion, Vaelor, I have clung to the past, refusing to let wounds become scars. I won't stand by and watch as I lose another brother. It's to move on."

"Goodbye, brothers."

When Elevalein opened his eyes again, they burned with green light. His Presence unfolded, congealing into a suit of emerald armour enveloping his body. Without hesitation or a shred of fear, the Evoker strode inside the black cloud. He vanished without a trace.

Finn couldn't help but admire the Sovran. Even as his reserve of hexion ran out, as the Dream of Invincibility faded, he could rest knowing the battle wasn't lost. "Prophecies aren't worth scrap, Helvan. What's the point of fighting for a better future if we lose everyone we care about?" He turned to Helvan, throwing him a baleful look.

Helvan didn't meet his eyes, but his face turned bitter. Regretful.

Finn dove into Daesvor. He needed to gather power as fast as he could. It wasn't over, not yet. Common sense be damned, he would bind him as a Dream Echo. Or die trying.