Just a heads up, I'm on holiday this week. I am planning to keep up with writing but there's a chance I don't make Saturday's chapter. Assume it'll be on time but I'll update on the chat if not.
As the battle raged on, the warlocks and demons surged deeper into the fortress city behind Baelkor’s advance. The First Servant of Uvdar moved like a force of nature, unstoppable and immense. Entire battalions broke around him. Poison flooded the walls in rivers of green-black sludge, dissolving stone and flesh alike. Wherever he passed, Trees of Damnation erupted from the earth, their twisted trunks tearing through streets and towers as if the fortress city itself were succumbing to him.
General Korteg met him again and again, crashing into the giant with the wrath of Byzantius behind him, yet even the eighth circle Chosen could not hold Baelkor’s attention for long. The giant swatted aside entire formations, his servants surging behind him in endless waves.
Above, dragons wheeled through smoke-filled skies, their fire colliding with storms of poison and infernal magic. The fortress had become a nightmare of overlapping battlefields. Demons fought Chosen. Warlocks fought demons when territory or opportunity demanded it. Even the Demon Lord’s forces had turned savage and erratic now, abandoning strategy in favour of a desperate push toward the central keep.
More and more of Alveron’s army emerged upon the wall behind Marcela, but they were going to be too late to stop whatever they were after.
Marcela still couldn’t fully understand what was happening, only that their enemy seemed to know much more than they did, and that something had changed.
Marcela drove her blade through the throat of a horned demon and kicked it from the wall. Nearby, Anara’s blessings spread through the wounded like blooming flowers, while a dragon keeper with lightning powers streaked overhead.
“Push forward!” Isolde commanded.
The Chosen of Ordana stood at the front of their formation, fire raging around her in waves. Her sword blazed white-hot as she carved through a pair of tree creatures that lunged from the smoke.
Lorissa appeared beside Marcela in a flash of pink essence. “We can get closer to the keep from the eastern walls,” she said quickly. “If we—”
Isolde stopped.
They all looked at her, stunned as the fire around her surged violently. Then she dropped to her knees.
Marcela froze. “Isolde?”
No response. The woman’s sword clattered from her hand. Flames poured from her body uncontrollably, spiralling upward as if caught in some invisible storm. Her eyes burned bright gold.
Around the battlefield, others fell too. One by one, the Chosen of Ordana collapsed.
“Isolde!” Marcela yelled louder, grabbing her shoulder and shaking.
Isolde looked at her with tearful eyes. “She’s gone.”
“Who’s gone?” Marcela asked, but she already knew the answer.
“Ordana,” Isolde muttered. “I can’t feel her light.”
Marcela turned in horror as she spotted more across the walls and streets below, knights and priests collapsing. Soldiers engulfed in firelight, clutching at their chests as though something inside them had just been ripped away. Some cried openly. Others stared blankly ahead, tears streaming down faces lit by flickering flame. A few looked utterly lost, as though the world itself had tilted beneath their feet.
Far across the battlefield, Baelkor noticed it too. The giant turned toward the central keep. For the first time since the battle began, urgency entered his expression.
“No,” the giant rumbled. The word rolled across the city like distant thunder. Then Baelkor roared. “The tower! Clear a path to the tower.”
***
The River and Waves. It always came back to that foundation. Through the pain, exhaustion and fire, all Hump could do was focus on his breathing and the cycling of his essence. He sensed Nisha doing the same at his side, still pained, but it was lessening. If anything, she seemed to be taking to the Divine Spark better than he did.
Ordana’s fire blazed through him. Or perhaps, more accurately, it was Samuel Durain’s fire, for it was one of the thirteen sparks from Owalyn’s story.
State of Nisha
The River and Waves.
It always came back to that foundation.
Ordana’s fire blazed through him, or perhaps more accurately, Samuel Durain’s fire, for this insight had been stolen from him. “Ordana seized summer and flame.”
And now Hump had taken that. Well… Hump and Nisha, but he was counting it.
Cycle by cycle, he felt himself regaining control over both body and soul. Calmness was returning to his channels. The storm was quieting. Yet the heat of the Divine Spark did not fade. It blazed within his soul, a constant drain on his mind and will. It wouldn’t take much for it the surge once more. If he were to become distracted, it might go out of control.
He didn’t know how much time had passed when his body felt his own. When Hump opened his eyes, he was collapsed on the ground beside Nisha, resting a hand on her shoulder. She was on her side, head draped over his lap, exhausted and in the same pain he was. To feel her agony through their bond… it was a different kind of pain. One they shared. Knowing that she felt that pain in him too explained everything. If their positions had been reversed, he wouldn’t have hesitated a heartbeat to help to relieve her burden.
Her body had changed much. She was bigger, perhaps as tall as him now, with golden scales.
She groaned softly and gazed up at him with large, unblinking eyes. The purple in them was still the same, but the golden flakes that danced within had transformed into nebulous streaks, drifting and shifting constantly.
“Thank you, Nisha,” Hump whispered to her, running a hand down her side then gently caressing her head. “You did so well. You’re a hero.” He envisioned it in his bond and reiterated through their bond. “Hero. Saviour”
Nisha lay her head against him and let out a soft huff. Her tail whipped enthusiastically. Pack strong together. Nisha is well.
Her thoughts came through more coherently than ever, coloured by feelings of warmth, satisfaction, and above all, pride.
They were alive.
Celaine appeared before him in a surge of shadow, throwing her arms around his neck.
“You’re such an idiot,” she whispered. “Are you okay?”
“I think so,” Hump said. “Hard to say for sure.”
“Good.” Celaine released him and leaned over Nisha, cupping her head with her hands. “And Nisha? How are you girl?”
Now Nishari let out a whine, placing a foot gently on Celaine and revealing her belly. Celaine rubbed it with a smile.
“Tired.”
“She’s tired,” Hump said. “Strangely, she seems to be coping better than me. I think her affinity with fire is even stronger than mine. Her body seemed to adapt far better.”
“That’s good,” Celaine said. “Though these changes are a lot. Look at your scales, girl! And you’ve gotten so much bigger. Very pretty.”
“The most pretty,” Nisha said. “So majestic and elegant.”
Hump frowned.
“What is it?” Celaine asked.
“She’s talking,” Hump said. “Not just simple things either. She just called herself the most pretty, majestic, and elegant. I think she’s understanding us.”
“Is that possible?” Dylan asked.
“Nisha is smart.”
“Possible or not, she’s doing it,” Hump said.
“You understand me?” Celaine asked excitedly.
“Understand.” Nisha let out a happy grunt.
“Well this is going to take some getting used to,” Hump said. “She seems to understand.”
“How capable is she?” Dylan asked.
“I don’t know,” Hump said.
“Nisha, do you understand everything we’re saying?” Emilia asked, stepping closer and leaning down. “Are you a good girl? Am I your favourite person?”
“Nisha good girl.”
“She got some of it,” Hump said. “Sort of the level of a particularly competent toddler. Hard to say. Not spent a huge amount of time around children.”
“That’s amazing and all,” Bud said, disbelief in his voice. “But you’re all ignoring the fact that Hump just successfully absorbed a spark! And then killed Karlac through sheer force.”
“Half a spark,” Hump said. “Nisha has the other half. And you did most of the work with Karlac, I just finished the job.”
Bud let out an annoyed breath. “Hump…”
“I’m still not sure I’m going to live,” Hump said. “I might not have successfully absorbed the spark, and that’s quite a distinct difference. In fact, I’m starting to realise I’m rambling quite a bit. I might be panicking.”
“Then sit down and take a breath,” Dylan said, striding over and taking him by the arm. He helped Hump to sit. Let’s figure out what’s going on with you before we do anything else. It seems that we’re alone here.”
He gestured around the chamber of thrones and Divine Sparks. Other than Ordana’s, they were relatively undisturbed.
“What do you mean you’re not sure you’ll live?” Celaine shoved him gently on the shoulder. “I thought we were past the danger.”
“I think I’m okay,” Hump said. “The walls of my soul are rebuilding and containing the spark. At least for now, it seems to be stabilising.”
“And Nisha?” Celaine asked.
“She seems to be coping better. Don’t worry.”
“Oh good.” She rolled her eyes. “No need to worry at all then.”
“I might be dying and you’re being snarky!”
“Yeah, who’s fault is that? You bring it out of me!”
“Is there anything we can do for you now?” Dylan asked.
Hump paused. “Give me a minute and let me see how everything feels.”
Closing his eyes, he focused inward. The essence flowing through his channels hadn’t changed too much from before, but he could feel something in it. More direction. Firmer intent.
The real change was further in. The walls around his soul that he’d taken so much time to build were in the process of repairing themselves. It would be a while yet before they were restored to their usual condition, but for now, they were doing the job. As for the Spirit Forged core at the centre of his soul, it was no longer taking damage from the Divine Spark. In fact, if anything, it seemed the flame was empowering it.
It continued to flicker in his soul, surrounding his core, but the heat didn’t hurt him anymore. The burns upon its surface were healing over. He had absorbed half a Divine Spark. What that meant wasn’t clear. He lacked the strength of the gods—the power the had accumulated before taking on the Divine Sparks themselves. As far as he could tell, he was still a Rank 6 wizard. He hadn’t broken through the final barrier and reached the seventh rank, let alone achieved anything approaching the level of a deity.
But something had changed. The dragon blood in his veins seemed to thrum with pleasure. His very soul was different, blazing with this new fire. His core was adapting to it, as was his essence. What would emerge when the change was complete, he didn’t know.
“I don’t think I’m dying,” Hump said. “Though this is going to take some time to process.”
“Are you a god now?” Emilia blurted out.
Hump blinked at her. “What?”
“I’m just saying what’s on everyone’s mind.” She shrugged. “You absorbed a Divine Spark. Logically… what else could you be.”
Hump shook his head. “I don’t think so. The Divine Spark is more of a concept than divinity itself. I feel like I’ve gained understanding rather than power, though the changes going on in my soul may change that, whether for good or bad.”
“Try a spell,” Dylan said. “Just a simple flame, like you did for Master Vivienne when she first tested your abilities. Rotate through the different colours of fire.”
Hump nodded and held up a hand. “Spark.”
He was tired—exhausted even—but even in this state such a simple cantrip came easily to him. In fact, it came easier than ever. A yellow-red flame appeared above his hand, flickering like a candle.
Yet immediately, he sensed something new in there. Something deeper.
It transformed into a red flame, filled with enamouring intent. He gazed into it, excitement filling him. Heat built. The colour shifted, going from red to blue, and then finally white.
The White Flame.
His inner intent radiated from it with such ease that it surprised him. He hadn’t even intended to let it show. He sensed that if he wanted to, he could unleash its might with even more fury than ever. The quality of his essence hadn’t changed, but the intent behind it was more clear than ever. And the world responded.
He felt it whispering in the flame. He sensed it smooth against his soul. Such pure, vibrant energy dancing in the palm of his hand. He felt as if he could have pierced Karlac’s Soul Domain and other defences through mere will alone.
“That can’t be,” Bud murmured, his expression downtrodden.
“Incredible,” Emilia said.
Hump was frowning at the flame too. After all these years, finally, he held divinity. Not power granted to him by a god, but power he himself created.
“That’s divinity,” Bud said. “The power of the gods. It can only mean one thing.”
“Bud, don’t overthink it,” Hump said.
“How could I not?” Bud said. “You’ve just absorbed the Flame of Ordana. This changes everything. What will become of her Chosen?”
Hump frowned. He hadn’t considered that. He didn’t sense any connection to her Chosen, so it seemed that wherever they drew their power from, it was unconnected to him. His mind went to the formation housing every Divine Spark in the room.
“I’m not sure,” Hump said. “The Divine Sparks are all connected to a grand spell formation beneath this chamber. Perhaps that provides the mechanism to select and grant blessings to Chosen. If so, with Ordana’s spark gone, I would expect her Chosen to be unable to gain new blessings and for no new Chosen to be selected.”
“But will they lose their power?” Bud asked.
Hump shook his head. “They power doesn’t come from here, just like yours didn’t. It comes from within. It comes from within. Their blessings only guide their power in a certain direction.”
“Or maybe you are a god,” Dylan said with a wry smile.
“No,” Hump said. “I think divinity is what happens when one’s will and understanding match the Will of the World. This is nothing to do with being a god. This is my will and that of fire resonating.”