Chapter 20 – The Last Song of Anterz
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They walked into the end of the world at dusk.
The road faded as they passed. The trees behind them wilted. The sky grew still—not with peace, but in reverence. It was not the stillness of a quiet night.
It was the stillness of a world preparing to remember its final story.
The Well inside Anterz pulsed with every step. His memories were no longer just his own. Thoughts bled at the edges. Visions flickered at the corners of his mind—victories he never won, lives he never lived. He walked as one who was becoming legend, not because he desired it, but because the Choir had decided it.
And the Sixth Well—the one he now accepted, the one within him—sang softly.
A lullaby.
A dirge.
A warning.
---
Elaria walked beside him, silent for hours.
When they crossed the Ridge of Stones—where the dead gods had once been laid to rest—she finally spoke.
"You're fading."
He nodded.
"I know."
She stopped walking. "Tell me you'll come back."
Anterz paused. Then turned.
"I don't know if I can."
She moved to him, placed her hands on his chest. Felt the hum beneath skin, beneath blood.
"You're still you."
"Maybe."
She leaned in.
"Then fight."
---
The Choir King waited in a place that had no name, no border.
It was not a city. It was not a fortress.
It was remembrance made flesh.
A cathedral of light, built from the Choir's song itself—shifting walls of memory-glass, staircases of regrets, windows made from the eyes of those who chose to forget.
It pulsed with power.
And pain.
And perfection.
They stepped into it.
And the door behind them sealed.
---
The first chamber was filled with mirrors.
Each reflected not the body—but the soul.
Elaria gasped.
Anterz saw himself in a thousand ways:
As a god-king.
As a tyrant.
As a corpse.
Each one whispered:
> "Let go."
> "You were never meant to be the hero."
> "You were the instrument."
He shattered the mirrors with a word.
And moved on.
---
The second chamber was empty.
No walls.
No floor.
Just sky.
And at the center, a man.
Kneeling.
Anterz stepped closer.
It was himself.
Older.
Scarred.
Eyes filled with grief.
"I won," the kneeling Anterz said.
"But I had to lose you."
He looked at Elaria.
And she vanished.
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"No!" Anterz roared.
But it was just illusion.
Just warning.
A reminder of what it would cost.
He closed his eyes.
Held her image in his mind.
And walked forward.
---
In the third chamber, Elaria returned.
The chamber was full of Anterz's name, written in every language.
Carved into walls.
Painted in fire.
Woven into the breath of the room.
She looked at him.
"I won't let them make you a myth."
He looked back.
"What if it's the only way to end this?"
Her voice broke:
"Then I'll remember you alone. Not as a god. Not as a weapon. As you."
---
They stepped into the final chamber together.
And the Choir King stood at its heart.
---
He was not what Anterz expected.
Not monstrous.
Not divine.
He looked like a man.
Wearing Anterz's own face.
Not identical. Just close enough.
"Welcome," the King said.
His voice echoed with memory.
Every word carried history.
"Welcome home."
---
Anterz raised Valteris.
The blade pulsed with sorrow.
The King didn't move.
"You've already won," Anterz said.
"Every song sung. Every Well opened."
"Almost," the King said. "One remains."
He touched his chest.
"Yours."
---
"You want me to sing it."
The King nodded.
"Not scream it. Not fight it. Not bleed it."
"But accept it."
Anterz stepped closer.
"Why me?"
The King smiled.
"Because the world chose you."
"And now it wants to keep you."
"Forever."
---
He lifted a hand.
And the Cathedral sang.
Every soul the Choir had ever claimed—every person Anterz had saved, spared, failed—rose around them in glowing memory.
Rayn.
Theron.
Deren.
The children of Drear's Hollow.
The people of Vel Saren.
They all stood.
Not speaking.
Just waiting.
---
"You give them peace," the King said.
"You anchor the story."
"You are the final note."
Anterz shook his head.
"I'm a man."
The King nodded.
"You were."
He stepped forward.
And extended his hand.
"Sing it."
---
Valteris trembled.
The Sixth Well inside Anterz screamed.
And Elaria shouted: "Don't!"
But Anterz... paused.
And whispered:
"What if I do?"
---
The King smiled.
Elaria reached for him.
He took a breath.
And looked at the crowd.
At Rayn.
At Deren.
At himself.
And finally—
At her.
---
Then he said:
"I'll give you a song."
"But not the one you want."
---
He lifted Valteris.
And sang.
Not in Choir tongue.
Not in god-speak.
But in truth.
A song of pain.
A song of doubt.
A song that said: I failed.
That said: I broke.
But also said: I stood anyway.
---
The Cathedral cracked.
The memories faltered.
The Choir King screamed.
"You don't get to own me," Anterz shouted.
"I am not your anchor."
"I am my own."
He turned.
Looked at Elaria.
And smiled.
"Remember me."
---
And then he plunged Valteris into his own chest.
---
Light erupted.
The Sixth Well broke.
But it did not consume him.
Because he had claimed it first.
---
The Choir King burned.
His cathedral shattered.
And every stolen memory—
Returned.
---
When it was over—
Anterz still stood.
Wounded.
Dying.
But alive.
And in her arms.
---
"You didn't erase yourself," she whispered.
He nodded.
"I made a new story."
---
The stars reset.
The earth quieted.
The Choir was gone.
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And Anterz was free.
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