How many years has it been since that day fell upon the world? She stopped counting and so did everyone else.
Thousands of years had already passed, after all.
Along the misty path to the abandoned city, light footsteps tore the silence. The slow and deliberate rhythm of sandals hitting the cobblestone road occupied the quiet emptiness in this land.
A lone figure, draped in a thick cloak, face covered with a hood, walked the foggy road. In her hands was a wooden staff — its red orb at the tip glowing eerily, contrasting the lifeless, fog-filled air of the land.
Nevigne stopped before the gateway of this place which used to be the capital of a powerful kingdom. Now, however, only the stone arc of the gateway remained, with the gate itself missing. The walls that surrounded the city were still visible though in the form of crushed rubble.
Even in the dead of night, anyone could see clearly that this civilization had been decimated.
Just like every other civilization in this world, this one had been reduced to ashes.
The girl in the hood let out a sigh. She passed through the gateway and entered the forsaken kingdom.
Not a single building was standing in this place, except for one.
Not far from the city gates, a weathered establishment stood. The ominous inn with lights seeping through the windows was the only working building that remained in this kingdom.
That is her destination. The place Nevigne had been trying to reach for five hundred years.
She walked towards the inn, passing by structures that have either withered or been burnt down. However, despite the eerie silence on her way, she was aware of the hundreds of stalking eyes behind the darkness around her.
She stepped close to the door of the tavern and pushed it open.
There was no music playing in this lone tavern. Though filled with customers, the place was obviously uncared for. Cobwebs filled the decaying wooden ceiling, the lamps were barely lit and all kinds of trash were scattered on the floor.
Nevigne's face remained hidden under the hood as she stepped inside, meeting the gaze of a few dozen creatures drinking at their dusty tables.
As expected, silence met her.
She continued to walk forward, towards the counter behind which the innkeeper was quietly wiping a wineglass. He had dark hair, a youthful, relaxed face and a lean figure. He was also the only one who looked human in this place.
After a moment, she reached the counter. She sat on one of the barstools and rested her arms on the counter's wooden surface. Her wooden staff leaned against the counter.
"What can I get you, miss?" the innkeeper asked.
She listened to the innkeeper's smooth voice without lifting her face.
Without thinking twice, she spoke. "Are you Fidelis, the fallen archangel?"
As soon as those words left her mouth, the man paused from wiping the glass.
Before responding, he turned his back on her.
"That's right," he said while putting the glass back on its shelf and getting another one to wipe. "So what can I get you? We have goods from all around the galaxy."
She thought about it for a moment, and then replied.
"I'll have your bestseller."
She had been traveling for quite some time. Considering she was already at an inn, she might as well have something to drink.
Fidelis nodded and moved swiftly. In just a few moments, a glass of bloodred beverage was in front of the hooded figure.
She lifted the glass and drank the wine in one go. The taste wasn't the best, but it was a nice change. Going from hunting corrupted monsters to drinking wine was quite the upgrade.
"This is good," she remarked with faint enthusiasm.
Fidelis chuckled. "Glad you liked it. It's a bestseller for a reason."
Then without warning, the nonchalant innkeeper leaned into her face with a blank expression.
"And who are you, might I ask?"
Unfazed, the girl met his crimson eyes with the same lifelessness from her sky-blue ones.
She then uttered:
"I am Nevigne. One of the heroes who failed to save this world."
Fidelis lingered for a moment, as though scanning her eyes for any lies. And he saw nothing but the truth.
After all, there must be a reason why she knew the secret he had been keeping for a long, long time.
"I see," he mumbled, straightening his posture again. "Am I finally being put to use?"
After a moment of silence, Nevigne replied. "Yes, I'm afraid."
"Why several millennia later?" Fidelis asked.
And to that question, Nevigne hesitated to respond.
"Isn't it a tad bit too late? Everything is gone," added the fallen archangel.
He turned away from the counter to arrange some wine bottles on the shelf. And on the reflection of one of the glass bottles, Nevigne got a glimpse of his expression shifting into something somber.
"I know it's too late," she said, looking down at the counter's wooden surface. "Everyone won't come back to life. Eden, the world I once knew, will not return even if I revived the planet."
Fidelis paused but didn't turn to face her.
"Still, I wish to buy back this planet's life force with my own existence," she continued, finally mustering the courage to look up at the back of his head, waiting for him to face her. "I want to use you as a negotiator with the guardians of life."
The dark-haired man didn't move for a moment. He then slowly turned to look at her with a blank expression.
"You want to clean your slate?" he blurted out.
Once again, she fell silent, her gaze instantly fell to her fidgeting fingers.
He was absolutely right. She was only doing all of this to try and redeem her failure, even though in truth, no matter how hard she tried, those innocent lives lost would never come back. And this world would remain dead in the final memories of those who fought for it before.
There was no reviving it. Rebuilding a dead world was not bringing it back to life. And even that pointless task could never be achieved by someone like her without the help of an entity as powerful as Fidelis.
"I do," she answered weakly. "They are haunting me every day. My dreams keep taking me back to that war, where I tried harder, where I was stronger, where I won the war." She clenched her fists subconsciously. "Maybe if I restored this world the way it used to be, the nightmares would stop."
She met his gaze.
"There's no place in hell for me anymore, Fidelis."
The man stared at her for a moment and then asked: "Do you hear how selfish you sound?"
Nevigne's eyebrows furrowed.
"Don't you feel the same way?" she asked.
Fidelis paused, then, a smirk tugged at his lips.
Nevigne continued. "Especially when you are one of the reasons why this world's destiny has been changed. Otherwise, you would have left long ago. You want to suffer the fate of this world which you yourself had brought upon it."
Dropping the cleaning cloth to the counter, Fidelis let out a laugh. Because she was right.
All eyes in the tavern were on them, listening in on their conversation. Both of them knew this fact, of course, and were prepared for the result.
One creature inside the inn, the largest and seemingly most powerful of the bunch, unsurprisingly went over to Nevigne. The enormous thing stood behind her, clad in dark, shell-like armor, over twelve feet tall. Two glowing green orbs could be seen behind the narrow visors of its single horned helmet. Large, veiny translucent wings were folded behind his back with razor-sharp hairs around the edges.
The bug soldier spoke.
"You know we can hear you, right?" it asked with a deep, monstrous voice. "Is it true that you are that fallen angel?"
Fidelis didn't even acknowledge the massive creature. His eyes remained locked on Nevigne's.
Out of frustration, the creature suddenly grabbed Nevigne's hood and folded it open, revealing snow-white hair and long, pointed ears.
"A high elf?" it muttered. When the other "customers" in the tavern heard those words, they adjusted their positions into ones that were ready to attack at any time.
Because for five hundred years, a legendary figure known to be a high elf had been hunting these creatures down.
Fidelis, the fallen angel of punishment, met the creature's gaze. "I know you can hear us."
Nevigne picked up the staff that was leaning on the counter and, without even looking, aimed it at the armored creature's head. Before the creature could react, a condensed ball of fire had already obliterated its upper half, leaving a burning, gaping hole in the ceiling above.
Nevigne declared:
"And none of you will make it out alive."