Breaking a god was no easy task, but Enryn had dedicated his lifetime to it. Well technically, his some odd great-grandfather Gylas had dedicated each generation’s eldest. Whether they wanted it or not.

The dew-covered grass chilled Rikia’s feet as she slipped to the ground, a chilling counterpoint to the hand still clasping her own. Catching herself she felt the hand slip away as she straightened herself in her family’s farmyard.

By blessing I’d presided over the crux of a thousand-year prophecy. By damnation I watch it crumble with a word.

Wind scrapped his skin as Rothsem surged down the mountainside. Wild laughter sprang from within muffling the cries behind for him to halt. Fools, he’d never halt! No, he’d passed the void bars, traversed the scalding divide, and scaled the frostbit walls. Now he rode the cascading mountainside to freedom. Nothing could hold him back!