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Fire. All-consuming fire swept across the landscape, scorching all in its path. Furious blue flames moved like living entities—which, maybe they were—igniting bright orange in their wake.
Gura stumbled to the parapet, trident forgotten on the ground, and looked out over it all in horror. She gripped the stone, breath quickening.
This can’t be the end of the world. This isn’t how it was supposed to go. We were supposed to stop her. I was supposed to—
“I… was right all along.” Gura froze. Kronii’s breath shuddered behind her—it could’ve been laughter or the beginnings of a sob. Gura wouldn’t tell. “You can’t say I didn’t warn you. I knew there was no avoiding this. I knew it! I knew this would happen!” Gura didn't move, eyes fixed on the rampant destruction. She was right, after all.
“Kronii…” Calliope breathed.
“What?” she snapped back. Gura could almost hear the smile in her voice now, the usual smugness and pride driving any grief or despair into hiding behind her usual facade of confidence. “You gonna tell me there’s a way to come back from this? The Scarlet Queen’s vanished in a puff of smoke and you still think there’s something we can do about it? Even if we do, we’re too late to stop this. To stop what she dragged us out here to stop.” Gura heard one of Kronii’s blades scrape across the stone and a tear slipped down her cheek. “What Mumei—” Kronii’s voice cracked on the name, and Gura heard her jaw snap shut even with her back turned.
Though she couldn’t peel her eyes from the burning world around them, her thoughts ran elsewhere. To bright, honeyed eyes and soft feathers. To a gleaming dagger, meticulously cared for. To equal parts forgetfulness and boundless wonder. To the one person Kronii had let convince her that maybe it was worth trying to fight the inevitable.
… To the blade she took for Gura.
The screech of metal on metal tore through her daydreams and tugged her focus back to the present. She blinked at the smoking landscape before pulling her reluctant, glassy eyes to look behind her.
The blade of a scythe—Calli’s scythe—hovered mere inches from Gura’s face, showing her what a bloody, exhausted, pathetic mess she was. It took a few extra seconds for her gaze to shift from her own reflection to the twin swords the scythe’s curve held at bay, then up the arms holding them to Kronii’s face.
And there, she found overflowing fury. Not disappointment, not exasperation, and sure as hell not the distant apathy she’d gotten so used to seeing on Kronii. Now, she saw a blazing fire in her eyes and her lips curled in a snarl to show off fanglike canines. Gura spared a moment to think on how rare it was for Kronii to lose her composure. Her face was a mask of stoicism that Gura had only seen break once before. When Mumei—
“It should’ve been you.”
Ice flooded her veins at Kronii’s hissed words and more tears streaked through the ash and blood on her face as her silent tears evolved into open crying. Calliope yanked her scythe—and the swords—aside, forcing Kronii back a few paces.
“That’s enough, Kronii!” Calliope said, planting herself between the two with her scythe poised defensively. “This isn’t Gura’s fault.”
“How is it not? She’s the one that dragged us into this quest to save the world!” She punctuated her words with a scathing eyeroll.
“She’s right, Calli.” Gura’s voice was hoarse and thick with tears, but she couldn’t even muster the will to clear her throat. Calliope turned halfway, brows drawn together in concern. “She’s been right all along. I couldn’t stop it. I was stupid to think I could. And all I did was give people false hope along the way.”
“Gura, that’s not true. You didn’t—”
“I did! I told people I was going to stop this. I told them there was nothing to worry about, because we were on our way to save the world. And they believed me!”
Her thoughts strayed back to the dozens, maybe hundreds of people they’d met along their journey that lived their lives in fear of the Bloodflame Kingdom. She couldn’t let those people continue living without hope. Every spark she’d brought back to their eyes had set her heart on fire, spurring her onward, steeling her resolve further. She couldn’t let them down. She couldn’t let their trust in her be misplaced. She would save everyone from a fiery apocalypse.
But when all was said and done, she’d failed them all. And the world was burning before their eyes.
“You shouldn’t’ve come with me.” She sniffed and wiped her face clear. “None of you. I should’ve just come here alone. At least then I would’ve—”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Gura,” Calliope warned, voice low and hurt haunting her eyes. The rest of the words caught in her throat at the sight.
“You want me to do it?” Kronii offered, venom dripping from her words. “If she’d come here alone, at least she would’ve died alone.” Gura shrank, her mind read and gut twisting. “She wouldn’t’ve gotten anyone else killed on her stupid quest.”
“I said, that’s enough!” Calliope’s shout echoing from the scorched land around them was enough to shock Gura out of her self-loathing tears, if only for a moment. “If you’re so dead set on being miserable, then take a hike. Killing each other isn’t gonna fix anything.” Gura watched Kronii’s face simmer down from murderous rage to a contemptuous scowl. It was more familiar—more composed and calm, the way Kronii always was—but somehow, that only made it all the more heartbreaking.
“You’re right.” She stalked toward the entrance to the tower, where a shattered door hung from one hinge and stairs beyond spiraled downward. “Nothing will.” Gura’s eyes remained glued to the spot, even when Kronii disappeared from sight.
Kronii was right. She’d known the end from the beginning. They couldn’t stop it. They’d failed. Gura had failed. People had put their trust and hope in her and she’d failed and now the world was burning to a crisp and Mumei died for nothing and Kronii hated her and she wished she’d—
“Gura!”
She snapped out of it with a gasp, focusing on the face in front of her.
Calliope. The one who’d followed her from nearly the first day she set out to face The Scarlet Queen. The first real friend she’d made in a long, long time. The friend who’d stood by her side through bloody battles, sleepless nights, and even now… when she had nothing to offer. Even with tears shining in her eyes to match Gura’s, Calliope was still with her.
“Don’t listen to her,” she murmured. “She’s just…” She glanced back at the broken door.
“She’s—”
“Don’t!” Gura stopped short at Calliope’s sharp interruption and caught a flicker of rage returning to her eyes when they snapped back to her. She schooled it, though, drowning it out with guilt and concern the second she realized she’d let her temper slip. “Don’t you dare say she’s right,” she continued, voice lowered to nearly a whisper. Gura didn’t have anything else to say, though. So she shut up and turned her blurry sight to the thickening clouds of smoke above them.
“Look…” Calliope started again. It was tentative, unsure. But Gura knew her well enough by now that whatever she was going to say, she meant it. “I’m not gonna say things don’t suck right now, ‘cause they really, really do.”
Gee, thanks, Gura thought to playfully retort. Any other day, she would’ve, but she didn’t have it in her to actually say it with everything falling apart around them. All she could manage was a tiny puff of air from her nose in the place of a sarcastic chuckle.
“But that doesn't mean we’re giving up.”
“Why not?” Gura met her eyes, her own empty and dull. “Kronii’s—” She caught Calliope’s grip on her scythe tighten and stopped before she could say that Kronii was right again. “She knew this would happen, and we didn’t listen. This is the end of the world, Calli. We couldn’t stop it from coming.” Calliope was silent for a moment and Gura’s heart twisted to think that she’d somehow crossed a line with the only friend she had left, shattering any fragile connection still between them. Her breath shuddered, and she turned away at the thought.
Or at least she would’ve, if not for Calliope’s hand coming to rest firmly on her shoulder.
“I know. I know we couldn’t stop it from coming. But we’re not giving up.”
“You mean you’re not.” Gura shrugged away from Calliope’s hand. “Don’t you get that there’s nothing left to do?”
“Then what will you do?” Gura opened her mouth, but shut it without a sound. She didn’t know how to answer. She’d set out on her journey thinking that she would save the world or die trying. It had never crossed her mind that she might fail on both accounts. What was she, if not a hero or a martyr? Was she anything at all? What was she supposed to do?
Unfortunately for her, Calliope continued before she could think of something to say. “I’ll tell you what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna brush off the dirt and blood and find a way to get past this.”
“I don’t see how,” Gura snapped.
“Neither do I,” Calliope snapped back. “But ever since I met you, you haven’t let me give up on a damn thing, even when it made all the sense in the world for me to. When I told you I was cursed to get everyone close to me killed, you became my friend anyway. When I screwed up and got you hurt, you told me to learn from it and carry on instead of rotting away in regret. When we lost Mumei and I blamed myself, you got me out of that rut.” Gura’s hands balled into fists at her sides. “All the probably dozens of times I tried to convince you I’d be more of a hindrance to your quest than a help, you always convinced me otherwise.”
“I should’ve just let you leave!”
Gura had barely a moment to flinch back when Calliope stepped toward her with outstretched hands and rage flickering in her eyes again.
It took another moment to register the sound of her scythe clattering on the ground.
One more to realize she was being hugged.
Hugged. After all her failures. After all the hurt and struggles she’d dragged her through. After all the… her eyes welled up again at the realization of what horrible things she’d said out of grief and self-hatred in the last few minutes… Calliope was here, holding her like something precious.
“I—” Her voice cracked. “I should’ve let you go.” A sob built up in Gura’s chest, squeezing her lungs until she thought her body had forgotten how to breathe. She took in stilted gasps as she reached around and grasped the back of Calliope’s cloak, burying her face into her neck. “Why are you still here?” she croaked, already feeling guilty for the tears and snot leaking onto her friend on top of everything else. “How do you still believe in me?” Calliope held her tighter, closer.
“You were the first person to believe in me in a long time, and you never stopped.” She could hear the shaky smile in her words. “I’m just returning the favor.” If it was possible, Gura held onto her even tighter and sobbed even harder. She didn’t deserve this. She didn’t deserve comfort, or hope, or any of the good things Calliope was giving her. All the same, she was here, and Gura didn’t want her to leave. Not really.
“Don’t go.” It was a desperate little plea, barely strong enough to be called a whisper.
“I won’t.” The arms around her squeezed. “And if you’re wondering how long it’s gonna be until I stop standing by you, you’re gonna have to wait until the day I stop breathing.”
Gura lost track of time clinging to Calliope. A million thoughts fought to be at the front of her tumultuous mind—mostly of the world burning, Kronii finally leaving them, and the many promises of success that she’d made and broken. But Calliope wasn’t leaving her, and the pure relief that came with that thought made everything else fade into a distant noise.
“So… what do we do, hero?” It was a murmur into her hair, shortly after the two of them had run out of tears to cry. Gura took a full, shaky breath and pulled back from the hug. She turned to look out over the slow, unrelenting progress of the fiery things destroying all in their path. No matter what half-baked plans rose to Gura’s mind to defeat or contain them, the fact remained unchanged that they looked unstoppable.
I could go back home. It was a traitorous thought, but one that snagged her awareness all the same. It was fire spreading to raze the world she’d fought to protect—fire that wouldn’t have a chance at reaching the depths of Atlantis. She could return to safety. She could cut her losses and live the rest of her long, nigh-immortal life as if she’d never surfaced in the first place.
She cast the thought aside. She wouldn’t run. She wouldn’t abandon everything she’d fought and lost for. She wouldn't leave Calliope to face this alone. Still, knowing what she wouldn’t do didn’t narrow down what she would by very much.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I guess… if there’s no way to stop these things, the next best thing would be to warn people they’re coming.”
“Sounds like a good start.” She turned back to Calliope, who now held her scythe in one hand and Gura’s trident in the other. She offered the weapon to its rightful owner. “Mumei said the portal system went all sorts of places, but we can start by going back where we came from.” Gura took her trident back, tamping its blunt end on the stone.
“Right.” Calliope turned to the stairs. “Calli?” She turned back.
“Yeah?” Gura might’ve thought it impossible given the circumstances, but she somehow managed a small smile.
“Thanks.” Calliope returned the smile.
“I’m always here for you.” Gura pounded her trident on the ground once more before heading for the stairs with Calliope by her side.
Kronii was right. They couldn’t stop the end from coming. But at least they weren’t facing it alone.