The Canyon. Grog's POV.
The portal flickered.
Aldric had stepped through moments ago—seconds, maybe, or minutes. Grog couldn't tell. Time had stopped when Aldric turned his back, when he walked toward the portal, when he disappeared into the darkness beyond.
This is goodbye.
The words echoed in Grog's head. Aldric had said them quietly, calmly, as if he was talking about the weather. As if he wasn't walking into the void, into Vorlag's world, into something none of them understood.
I have to go back. Through there. I have to make sure the door stays closed.
Grog had watched him go. Had let him go. Had said nothing.
Now the portal was flickering. Shrinking. The edges were pulling inward, the darkness fading, the hum diminishing. It was closing.
He had lost Aldric again.
---
He stood a short distance away from where the portal was, staring at empty air.
His sword was in his hand. He didn't remember drawing it. The berserker was quiet—not sleeping, just watching. Waiting. The red was there, at the edges of his vision, but it wasn't surging. It was patient.
Grog wasn't.
In the old timeline, he had lost Aldric to possession. He had watched the hero's eyes turn red, had watched him slaughter their friends one by one, had watched him drive a sword through Grog's own chest. He had died watching the boy he had trained become something else. Something terrible.
That was the old timeline.
This time was supposed to be different.
This time, Grog had warned them. Had trained them. Had prepared them. They had fought the hunters. They had closed the door. They had won.
But Aldric was still gone.
Not possessed. Not dead. Just... gone. Through the portal. Into Vorlag's world. Into something Grog couldn't follow.
He had lost him again. Just in a different way.
---
He looked at the others.
Lira was on the ground, her wounded arm pressed against her chest, her face pale. Mirena was beside her, her staff across her knees, her leg bandaged, her eyes on the space where the portal had been. William was standing, his sword still drawn, his armor cracked, his shield splintered. Ken was at the edge of the canyon, his bow in his hand, his eyes on the cliffs where the cult had been.
They were alive.
Everyone was alive.
In the old timeline, they would be dead. Lira, with an arrow through her spine. Mirena, her staff broken, her body still. William—the second prince—wasting away in the capital, drunk and purposeless. Ken, still hunting alone, still carrying his guilt, never finding a reason to stay.
But they were alive. All of them.
And Aldric was gone.
Grog couldn't accept that.
---
The hunters were gone. He couldn't sense them—the cold, the wrongness, the weight of their watching. They had vanished when Aldric stepped through the portal. Summoned back, maybe. Or maybe they had never been truly there at all.
The creatures had stopped coming. The cult had fled. The canyon was silent except for the wind and the distant sound of the horses shifting nervously.
Everyone was alive.
That was supposed to be enough. That was supposed to be the victory.
But Aldric was gone.
Grog gripped his sword.
The portal was still shrinking. The edges were almost closed now—a sliver of darkness, a crack in the world, a door that was about to shut forever.
He could still make it.
He could still follow.
---
He didn't think. He just moved.
His legs carried him forward, his sword in his hand, his eyes on the shrinking darkness. The berserker surged—not the red, not the rage, just the need. The need to save him. The need to bring him back.
He heard someone shout his name. Lira. Or maybe William. He didn't look back.
He walked.
Not ran. Walked. Each step heavy, deliberate, certain. The portal was close now—a few strides, a single leap. He could see the darkness beyond, the void, the place where Aldric had disappeared.
He reached for it.
---
The explosion came from the portal.
Not light—force. A shock wave of pure power, invisible and terrible, pushing outward in every direction. It hit Grog like a wall, lifting him off his feet, throwing him backward. He flew through the air, hit the ground, rolled. His sword skidded away. His head struck stone.
The world went dark.
When his vision cleared, he was on his back, staring at the sky. The stars were blurred, spinning, fading in and out. His ears were ringing. His chest was burning. He couldn't move.
He heard screams. Cries of pain. Lira. Mirena. William. Ken.
They were alive. Everyone was alive.
But Aldric was gone.
He tried to sit up. His body wouldn't respond.
He tried again.
---
Ken was on the ground, ten feet away.
He had been walking too—Grog could see it in the way he lay, sprawled on his side, his bow shattered beside him. He had been heading for the portal. Similar idea. Same desperate need.
Grog had been thinking of saving Aldric.
Ken had been thinking of killing hunters.
They had both failed.
Ken pushed himself up, his arm shaking, his face pale. Blood ran from a cut on his forehead, down his cheek, dripping onto the stone. He looked at the space where the portal had been.
It was gone.
The canyon was dark. The hum had stopped. The portal was closed.
Ken said nothing. Just knelt there, staring at empty air.
---
Grog pushed himself up.
His body screamed—his chest, his arm, his head. The berserker was awake now, surging, healing, pushing back the pain. He ignored it. He had to see.
The canyon was chaos.
Lira was on the ground, her hand pressed against her side, blood seeping through her fingers. Mirena was beside her, her staff broken, her face pale. William was on his knees, his sword still in his hand, his head bowed. The horses had scattered, their reins trailing, their eyes wild.
Everyone was down. Everyone was hurt.
But they were alive.
In the old timeline, they would be dead. Grog had watched them die. Had watched Lira fall first, an arrow through her spine. Had watched Mirena's staff break, her body crumple. William wasted away in the capital, never knowing what he could have become.
They were alive.
Everyone was alive.
But Aldric was gone.
Grog walked toward the place where the portal had been.
His legs were heavy. His chest was burning. His head was pounding. But he walked.
The stone was scorched, blackened, cracked. The air was cold, thin, hard to breathe. The portal was gone. There was nothing there. Just empty space. Just silence.
He fell to his knees.
---
The stone was cold beneath him. The scorch marks were dark against his palms. He stared at the place where the portal had been, where Aldric had disappeared, where the explosion had torn through the canyon.
In the old timeline, Aldric had been possessed. He had slaughtered their friends. He had killed Grog. Grog had died watching the boy he had trained become a monster.
This time was supposed to be different.
This time, everyone was alive.
But Aldric was gone.
"Aldric," he said. His voice was hoarse, barely a whisper. "No."
The word hung in the air. No answer. No echo. Just silence.
"You were supposed to stay. You were supposed to be here."
He pressed his hands against the stone. The scorch marks were cold now. The portal was gone. Aldric was gone.
"What have you done?"
He didn't expect an answer. He didn't get one.
The canyon was silent. The stars were bright. The wind was cold.
Grog knelt alone in the darkness, staring at the place where his friend had disappeared.
Everyone was alive. That was supposed to be enough.
It wasn't.