Epilogues

Epilogue one: Zortana and Stacy

Stacy rested her hands against a large pine tree and peered around it. She watched her target pull the dead man's body from the large spear. 

“Well that was really close. We almost got him.” Stacy said in a sweet flowery voice.

“Close!?” Stacy flinched. “We had the opportunity of a lifetime and that stupid glowing man ruined everything!”

“It was destiny! Why else would we have stumbled into such good fortune? We timed your curse perfectly.”

Zortana scared Stacy. He was so aggressive. Stacy really didn’t like the idea of using her curse, it was so mean. She wasn’t mean. Zortana was mean though.

“I’m a little glad that the young man didn’t die. Don’t you think it looked more like destiny when that other man appeared like an angel?” Zortana glared at Stacy. 

They had been over this countless times. “How many times have I told you this? We need death, it gives us power. You’ve felt it right?”

Stacy had felt it. When Zortana found Stacy she was so weak, so scared. Zortana had helped Her to realize that she didn’t need to be scared. She could use death to let people join her and make her grow. She liked to grow, and besides, did they really die if they joined her?

“Of course! I wanted to have that young man join us, I’m just saying it was pretty cool how things turned out, you know?”

Zortana wanted to be angry. But he had grown used to Stacy’s optimism. She hadn’t seen all that he had seen yet. But she was learning.

He had to admit the way the young man survived was…unusual. And in the end, had he really truly escaped? Or did they just need to be a bit more patient? 

There would be more opportunities, they could fail a hundred times so long as he eventually joined them. 

Zortana smiled. “You’re right Stacy, it was pretty cool.”

Epilogue two: Badlan Garadorm

Badlan had been hesitant at first about challenging a territory so quickly after being released from their dungeon. Doing so would not only put a massive target on his faction's back, it would also be a declaration of war with a regional power.  

He knew numbers weren’t everything. But 493? That wasn’t a rating, it was an invitation.

In the end, he took his chances. It was a sign of grace that shortly after they stepped foot into enemy territory it became theirs. The fools had left the land unguarded. 

While the other factions emerged and squabled for a hold, he was already establishing a footing.

By gaining a new territory it would mean moving onto the next phase of his plans.

“Are you sure it’s wise to annex an unknown faction's territory so early?” Badlan ignored his sister's husband. Tenor assumed more kinship than Badlan was ready to offer. 

He resented his sister for being too hasty in choosing her mate. If she would’ve just been patient a more suitable match could’ve presented itself. In spite of Badlan’s advice Ninka had married Tenor.

On their homeworld Kreven, he might not have been so critical of her choices. Experience points came at a premium, and growth potential didn’t matter as much if no one grew. But then the opportunity to enter a new world presented itself. 

It wasn’t as if Tenor had no growth potential. He was strong, mostly intelligent and had proven to be a capable fighter. But he wasn’t a risk taker. He was safe. Safe didn’t work when you wanted to reach the heavens. 

Badlan continued to ignore Tenor. “Melkin, do we have access to an interface?”

Melkin on the other hand understood the cost of power. “We do.”

“Do we have enough coins to bring a few builders through?” 

“We do.”

It was a risk but they had left all builders and craftsmen behind. They had gambled on not needing fortifications in their dungeon. Early on a few had died to mana spawns. It was a small price to create a strong and organized military unit out of the gate. 

“Let’s bring them in.” 

As if on cue–cries from nearby rang out that they were under attack. Badlan shouldered his crossbow and grinned. He had always enjoyed it when his food came to him. 

Epilogue Three: Unknown

“Are you surprised by his first ideal?”

“Surprised?” HE scratched his chin. “No, not surprised.”

“With his class selection would it not be more likely to see a different Ideal?”

HE considered the question. “Doesn’t forgiveness require judgement?”

Ammon watched Layton speak with Jared about his future plans. “I suppose.”

“He’s too naive. His faction won’t survive long enough.”

Ammon glanced over as HE joined him at the window to Layton’s world. 

“I’m not so sure.” He smiled. “He’s more thoughtful than I expected. He might be naive, but it’s for the right reasons.”

For a while the two stood. Content to simply observe. 

Ammon broke the silence. “What about the other one? Has he course corrected?”

HE frowned. “He has not.”

Ammon knew how much it hurt HIM. They both had such high hopes. Together they had watched so many promising new worlds and their inhabitants. 

Inevitably each and everyone had either died or lost their way. Finally one stood out above the rest. Someone to break the chains. For centuries he had given Ammon hope. Then it all came crashing down. 

If so many before had failed, even the best of them all, why did HE have such strong hope in Layton? The flaws were staggering. Ammon did not share the same hope.

Maybe the next hundred worlds would offer something better?