Crimson Ascension

The Red Eclipse is believed to have been the final battle between the Maker and the forces of the Beyond, the thralls of the one who has fallen. The meaning behind its name is lost to the ages—intentionally, if my theory is correct. Whoever was in charge of storing the history of the times before the Haven did a thorough job of destroying all the evidence. The Severing is linked to the Eclipse, somehow, though no one alive knows why. Not anymore.

–Nerovian Orenn, Virien of the fallen House of Amethyst Dragons

"It happened long ago, that dream. When I could barely call myself competent in the ways of a Dreamer," Korvax said, voice distant. "At first, I thought it a silly dream woven from worries and anxiety, yet I soon realized such things were luxuries to one who walks the same Path as I."

Draven listened to the words of the Echo of his father, enraptured. He had asked Helvan many times before, but he always received answers that failed to clear up any of his concerns. This time was different. Korvax had no reason to lie—for the Severer cleared Draven out of the bonds of fate and prophecies alike—and even if he did, Finn would know.

Finn gave him a nod. He understood Draven's concerns, as both of them had been around Helvan for too long—the man of empty promises and broken vows.

"Darkness poured out of the ceilings, flooding Elysium with unrelenting death. Nothing survived. There was only death and vengeance. At the time, I didn't know what they were—who that darkness referred to—but I soon learned. Those who were sealed with the fall of the Old World, during the Red Eclipse, were never truly defeated, as the Maker so proudly let others know. No, they were hindered."

"The Maker might have wielded great power once, before his decline, but even that wasn't enough to stop the forces of an entire dimension. The Sha'Vitri and their army would return, Asthagon confessed it himself." Korvax shook his head, a wince of regret on his face.

"Who was he? If he was one of them, why help?" For Draven had learned, the Sha'Vitri were a force that vowed to destroy the Haven. The Fallen's animosity had confirmed it. But Asthagon showed nothing of the sort, even when speaking in the halls that forbade lies.

"He called himself The One Who Watches, but I would be lying if I told you I knew of his intentions or who he truly was—is. Perhaps you can ask him one day," Korvax said.

"He's dead. I've seen it with my own eyes." Draven sighed. One of the few who might have held the answer to all his questions was gone.

"Death has little meaning to those who walk the Corridor, my son." Draven narrowed his eyes at the choice of words. "You see, the Sixfold Corridor is a pathway through time and space. Though he died, Asthagon still lives. Somewhere. In another age. A different version of himself."

"You're sure of it?" Draven asked. The idea sounded impossible, but Corridor was anything but normal.

"It is inevitable." Korvax fell silent for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts before continuing. "Many have disregarded what I dreamed. How could the Haven fall when it was protected by the Maker and his Archons? Surely with time, he had only grown more powerful. An Empyrean only grows stronger as they age, after all."

"Tracks with what we know." Finn nodded. "More time means more training and practice. A soul doesn't age like the body."

Elevalein grunted.

"A soul that is whole doesn't." Korvax's words thundered in the room like the beats of a hammer.

Draven's eyes widened. Surely that can't be, he thought. There's no way something like that is possible. The Fallen had shown him the vision of the Old World, how the men in white had harnessed power from Eternity. If something like that had been possible…

"During the Red Eclipse, the final battle against the Untaak'Dor and his army, the Maker was wounded. Records of it have survived nowhere in Elysium, he made sure of it. But the Gloom Caves are different."

It all made sense now. The reason Korvax worked the mines. The reason he went to the Catalyst Districts in the first place.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

"The Maker was wounded. Outmatched. Though he wielded the authority of the Archon of Souls, there was only so much a single Empyrean and a handful of others could do against the hordes of the Beyond." Korvax looked at Draven, but his sight seemed to pierce flesh as if searching for something deep within him. "But he had a last trick to play—a gamble that would eventually take his life."

"The Severing," Draven said, voice trembling. He couldn't believe it—it was a ridiculous notion—but as he spoke, Korvax only nodded. "The Maker shattered his Fragment of Eternity and harnessed the power from its destruction. The same event that destroyed the Old World. Abyss take me, am I a part of him?"

"A Fragment of Eternity cannot be separated from its wielder's soul. In performing the Severing, the Maker shattered his soul along with the pieces of the Cosmic Firmament." Korvax abruptly sat down on the floor. He looked tired, though the frown on his forehead no longer carried the same weight as before. "It is the reason he is dying. It is the reason killing the other Archons might restore him."

"Wait, that can't be right!" Finn blurted out. "Draves here is a part of the Maker's soul? A fragment? How is that even possible?"

"It isn't. A soul that is shattered decays in a matter of days," Elevalein dismissed the revelation with a chuckle. "No matter how powerful the Maker is, how could he have survived that for thousands of years? It seems like your time away from the Astrais House has turned you into a fool, father."

"Oh, El. I know you resent me, but—"

"Resent you? I resent the merchant whose greed cost me a few more hexion cubes than reasonable. Perhaps a baker who failed to make enough bread, and I just happened to be the unlucky customer to find his wares out of stock." The Evoker's eyes burned with a green fire, but his voice was as cold as the Abyss. "You, Korvax, I hate. No, despise you for what you forced me to become. For what you forced Mother to live through."

"And I deserve that sentiment, El. What I did to you." The Dream Echo looked at Elevalein and Draven. "To both of you. I won't ask for forgiveness, for I know my actions are irredeemable. But what I have done, no matter how terrible it might have been, was for a reason."

"What could possibly justify—"

Elevalein's enraged shout was cut short by Korvax's bitter resolve.

"Aiden, you would not have discovered Amplification, or learned how to understand the runes, had you not failed to save Irena and Daniel. Had Arzhan ‌not captured you, the Sixfold Corridor would have remained out of your reach." He spoke of it with a certainty only those who gazed into the tapestry of fate could muster.

"And you, El…" He hesitated for a moment before sighing. "You both would have died to Untaak'Dor if your will and astra were not Heightened three times. No other Evoker could have healed the corruption of the Fallen God himself."

Draven understood Korvax's actions more than he liked to admit. It was hard to refute the man's logic after having felt the power of those who stood at the pinnacle of the Haven. Every battle, every hardship he endured was like a brick carefully placed so he could climb further into his Path. Each failure drove his hunger for growth further. Each comrade he lost cemented his will.

Oh, Dad. Is this the weight you've been carrying all along? Korvax was responsible for the deaths of both his families, each caused by his methodical design. But the miner Draven, who was known as Will, would never have stomached such things. He loved his family. He sacrificed so his wife and kids could have food at home, a fire under their roof. He had been real, like the dream of a man who feared waking up to a dark reality.

"The Dream I had that night, the one which I wished never existed, foretold of the coming of the last Archon—someone fathered in the depths of the Catalyst Districts." Korvax closed his eyes, a thin smile on his lips despite the sadness in his eyes. "I went there looking for you, Aiden. But I never anticipated that, in doing so, I would become your father. Not even I saw that coming. And it broke me."

"You were destined to rise against the Maker, shield the Haven when the darkness from the Beyond poured like ink through the ceilings of Elysium. I had to get you ready for it. I had to make sure you survived what was to come. But I came to one realization: it was pointless." Korvax snarled in anger. "All the pain I had caused was useless. Everything!"

"What do you mean?" Draven asked, confused.

Elevalein fell silent, resentment still fresh in his white-knuckled grip. Finn and Nerovian listened to the conversation. The things the deceased Dreamer spoke of were based on information that couldn't be found anywhere in the Haven.

"If I had foreseen the future, then so did the Maker. None in the Haven could claim to be my equal when it came to the Dream Path, none but the Archon of Dream himself." The difference between an Archon and a regular Empyrean was tremendous; Draven was the living proof of that. "If I had seen it, then the Maker also had. Were it not for Asthagon, all I did would have been worthless."

"Asthagon? You mean the binding of the Corridor to me?" The action had sped his growth tremendously, but Draven didn't understand how that alone could have made him escape the Maker's foresight.

"No, the Corridor was meant to be yours. What changed it all was the sword Asthagon forged with the Fragment of Eternity harvested from the Fallen God's soul—the one he put inside a curious ring."

"The Az'Tenri Circlet," Draven gasped.

"In the Sha'Vitri language," Korvax eyes were dark pits. Deep inside those orbs, something shone. Hope. "It means 'fateless.'"