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All is quiet for a moment.
The darkness which once consumed all the other versions of himself has decided that it is now his turn to face it. And Zandik - never the coward - looks straight ahead. He does not think about how this is the end; does not ponder on the fact that his name will be happily forgotten after he goes. Instead, he keeps his eyes peeled for anything unexpected, all past thoughts, dreams, resentment fading away, swallowed whole by the dark. Of course, none of it ever mattered. Everything he had worked for was meant to be forgotten. He never wanted to accept it, but a part of him had always known that he would one day turn into nothing.
Oh, fate. How twisted, how unjust. One dies just as one is born.
Zandik's body suddenly feels light, warm, and that is when he notices a bright light far ahead. He feels a gentle breeze against his skin and hears echoes of loud chatter all around, and his heart - it just knows.
Home. He is going where he is meant to be.
The closer he is, the brighter the light. It transforms into a vivid scene he had long memorized by heart: a river stretching from Port Ormos to Sumeru City, warm sunlight creeping through the trees to shine upon a few dozen wooden huts that, by some miracle, had stood firmly in place for hundreds of years. Tall, green grass that he would once hide between as a child, when he had barely grown to reach above his father’s hip. A small house on the outskirts of the village that he had once called his home. And standing in front of it - his mother, whose face, once a blur, has become so much clearer now.
Her arms are spread wide in anticipation and her hair is still as vibrant and wild as he remembered. Zandik does not know when he starts running or when his mask slips from his face to reveal the same ruby eyes that had once gazed upon him with tender care.
He is home. Zandik wraps around his mother with force, all his contained longing set loose. Her hands are still gentle, and with each soft rub on his back he feels himself breaking apart.
"My son," she says, "my boy. You’ve grown."
The word slips past his lips like a prayer, over and over again, "mother."