past

Not even the friction of rubbing her hands together was enough to spark a bit of heat into them. Kleio Gerathy, the Prophet of Avadiel, tugged her cloak tighter around her body and fought the urge to shiver. Shivering won outright without much of a fight. Pressing the journal spread across her lap firmly against her legs to hold her place, she scooted closer to the fire. It did little more than tease her with warmth that was quickly leached away by her sunburned skin.

Irregular shapes rose around them in the darkness- towers of stone shaped by wind, sand, water, and time, protecting them from the open wind and blowing sand just outside the natural arch that served as the unofficial entry into their camp. When she had spied it just before sunset on the first day, recognizing it from the vision that had struck her five days ago, she had been relieved that she had not just imagined or hallucinated the entire experience. They had made their camp inside the protection of the stone thicket, but now, on the third night, she was beginning to second guess her interpretation of the vision since nothing like what she had seen had come to pass.

A thunderous snap, a searing light in the sky, the vast desert floor ablaze.

What it meant remained a mystery, but one thing was perfectly clear- a piece of the Infinite was about to fall, smashing into the world. Now, four days after informing the Sentinel of Avadiel of her vision, she found herself amongst a unit of mechanized cavalry, practically freezing to death in the Great Pyran Desert, waiting to either catch a falling star, or look a magnificent fool.

Trailing her fingers over a handwritten passage for the third time, Kleio’s thoughts raced over their meaning. Every vision she had witnessed was documented within her journal, a record and a reference for the fleeting images that struck her without warning and lasted mere seconds. There had to be something she missed, something she had misinterpreted. A heavy blanket fell over her shoulders eliciting a sharp jolt, then a sigh of relief as it severed the grip of the cold. Renwick Padgett, Captain of the Guard, dropped down beside her and stretched his hands toward the licking flames of their campfire.

“Some Soren you are,” he chuckled, passing her a cup of steaming tea.

“The years spent in my service to Lady Avadiel have definitely weaned the mountain girl out of me,” she spoke through a firm jaw to avoid her teeth clattering, holding the mug as the warmth bled slowly through her palms. “I would never have imagined a place so blistering hot during the day could be so bitterly cold after sunset.”

“Most people don’t,” he replied. “The real danger of the desert is its ability to deceive- temperature swings, sand storms, mirages, wandering Basts waiting to lure in an unsuspecting traveler. The desert is never what it seems, especially in the dead of night.”

A resounding crack rippled across the open sky, filling their ears from every direction and forcing them to pop. Kleio bit down on her jaw from the abrupt pressure, shaking her head until the pain dissipated.

“Captain, Priestess!”

Both their heads jerked sideways towards the shouts of the private on watch, but their eyes craned toward the light in the sky where he was frantically pointing.

“It’s happening!” Kleio stood, awestruck at the sight, never taking her eyes from the blue-white streaking the sky. “Wake the Sentinel.”

The sound of the mechanized cavalry engines roared to life in the silence of the barren desert

“That should do it,” the Captain mused, eyes still attached to the light though he remained seated. “How long?”

“Minutes,” she tossed out the remaining tea, dropping her blanket, leaving it to lie in the sand. “Move.”

The twincycles sped across the open expanse of the desert, throwing sand in a spray behind each vehicle, gliding over the scrub covered sandstone and dunes that stretched for miles in every direction The cavalry raced the object, losing by leaps and bounds as it drew nearer to the earth. Just before impact, Captain Padgett squeezed the brakes on his twincycle, skidding to a halt and fishtailing on the loose sand, throwing Kleio directly into his back from where she rode as passenger.

“Get-”

But, his words of warning to get down were blasted away, lost in the din of the explosion that accompanied the impact from the strike, the blinding light that made the whole desert midday for the briefest of moments, and the resounding wave of energy that burst forth taking the cycles and their riders to the sand. When the cavalry had collected themselves, the dust settling and the light fading to leave only shifting colors in their eyes, they remounted their twincycles rode once more toward the point of impact that had now become a molten pit of light that had once been the floor of the Pyran desert.

The cycles came to rest again around the lip of the crater. No one said a word as they approached. From the back of the line, the Sentinel pushed through the crowd of dumbfounded onlookers who normally called themselves guards.

A hand reached from the smoldering wreckage. Now, it was nothing more than a glassy bowl nearly a mile wide, shimmering in the glow left from the searing heat of impact. Another hand reached from the rim of the crater, followed by an arm, an elbow, and finally a face of the Paragon of Chaos. Straining to pull her aching body over the rim of the crater, a pair of boots stepped into her line of vision. Dropping to his knees, he swept back the goggles that covered his face, staring.

“Dear Infinite wonder…” Kleio stopped short just behind the Sentinel, and dropped to her knees as well. “Lady Avadiel?”

Hands were scrambling to pull her from the crater before she could respond, and the Sentinel helped her into a sitting position. His eyes searched her, silent, speaking only by his expression of disbelief and surprise.

“Rowan,” she managed a smile, brushing a hand against his cheek, her voice distant and languid, “my Sentinel. How… how did you know?” She heaved as if someone had released the air from her lungs, wilting forward into his chest.

Kleio was still trying to find a clear thought in her racing mind. Her vision had predicted that a piece of the infinite would fall to earth, but she had not realized it would be the Paragons themselves. Especially not the very Paragon she had been fated to serve. Casting her eyes into the interior of the crater, she spotted a dozen or so forms scattered throughout the crater, some beginning to stir, others either yet to wake, or possibly dead.

“I tried to shield them,” Avadiel whispered with drooping eyes, barely fluttering with consciousness. “Did I save them?”

Eyes flicking back between her and the thrown bodies throughout the crater, all he could manage was “... I don’t know, my lady.”

Her eyes closed, and her form went limp in his hands. Rowan Starling, the Sentinel of Avadiel, looked towards the still awestruck Prophet kneeling beside him.

“What does this mean?” he asked.

“Paragons have fallen to the realm of the living, Your Majesty.” Her gaze laced with fear. “Those who remain have abandoned us.”