Before entering seclusion to await the next world that would call for his judgment, Raiking chose to visit two final places.
The first was the grand hall of the domed palace on ZimHar'Montes. Translucent walls refracted starlight into a thousand shifting hues that danced across the obsidian floor. The air was crisp, laced with the metallic scent of the mountain's heart and the distant roars of wild creatures—a reminder that even beneath civilization, chaos still breathed.
Upon the twin thrones sat the Chieftain, Shona's father—a towering Harzim of burnished bronze—and beside him, T'Narsha, the Keeper of Balance, her radiant form wrapped in a shimmering shell shaped in honor of her husband's people.
"With True Balance restored, what will you do now?" T'Narsha's voice hummed, a melody spun from creation's first threads.
Raiking's brow furrowed. "Balance restored?"
"The Void is sealed," she said. "Every mortal now wields Essence to defend themselves. The Entities' reign is over. The God-King no longer exists. The flawed planetary scale—where one ruler's evil could doom an entire world—has been replaced by individual accountability. Is that not balance in its purest form?"
Raiking's gaze hardened. "Then this… was the Cosmic Will's design?"
T'Narsha's eyes shimmered with shifting galaxies. "Mortals weigh morality. Entities judge by cause and consequence. But a higher will cannot be measured by either."
His voice lowered, carrying the ache of memory. "And the cost was my disciple?"
Her gaze pierced the veil of time. Within its folds flickered the faint outlines of a future Raiking and his disciple—echoes of a moment yet to come.
"The Cosmic Will moves in mysteries," she murmured. "And yet, has your disciple not returned to your side?"
He looked into the vision.
"When she leaves the past and returns to her rightful time… my memory of her will fade.
My lonely road will remain."
The Keeper of Balance regarded him with somber clarity, her voice steady as a cosmic truth.
"Then at least for now," she murmured, "know that it was worth it."
---
The Chieftain's voice rumbled like the mountain itself. "What will you do now, Raiking?"
He lifted his gaze, crimson eyes burning with quiet fire. "What I must."
T'Narsha tilted her head. "Do you still believe destiny is yours to command?"
A faint, bittersweet smile touched his lips. "Whether it is my will or another's hand guiding me, the path must still be walked."
The hall fell silent. Above them, the stars pulsed faintly within the dome, as if the Cosmos itself paused to watch the next step of his solitary journey.
Beside Raiking, the crystalline coffin materialized once more, its surface glinting with starlight like frozen tears. He placed his hand upon it.
"I will leave her in your care," he said quietly. "Perhaps… one day, I will return."
He lingered for a moment longer, his gaze tracing the still face within. Then he turned toward the throne room doors.
"Thank you," he murmured, voice heavy with gratitude that transcended ages. "For your patience with me."
"Safe journey," said T'Narasha, her tone solemn, carrying both farewell and blessing. "If fate is kind, we will meet again."
Raiking nodded once. Then he was gone.
---
He reappeared within the oceanic region. His eyelids fluttered open, and the world of stone and flesh dissolved around him. He was adrift—weightless—in a vast expanse without edges, carried upon an alien tide.
All around him floated titanic crystals, drifting like roots seeking soil that would never come. Each glowed with a distinct Essence: molten red spires radiating Fire, deep blue shards weeping Water, jagged violet peaks crackling with Lightning, earthen monoliths pulsing Stone, and pale, haloed fragments breathing Air.
Together, they painted the void in living color—the five Essences, the foundation of all mortal cultivation.
At the center hung a colossal orb of water, beating like a heart. With every pulse, a shockwave rippled outward, driving the crystals farther into the distance. Raiking's eyes narrowed—he knew this rhythm. With each beat, the soul of the planet cast away what it could not contain: spare Essence, condensed into crystalline form.
In time, these shards would pierce through layers of rock, harden, and anchor themselves in the soil. To mortals above, they would be mines—treasures of the earth. But here, Raiking saw the truth: these were not riches, but the planet's breath made solid.
The vast orb pulsed again, its surface shimmering with light. Then, from within, a voice spoke—gentle, commanding:
"Come."
Raiking's body moved without will, drawn forward by a current unseen. When his spirit touched the orb, its surface parted, swallowing him whole.
---
He did not drown. Water surrounded him, yet air filled his lungs. Beneath his feet was something both solid and unreal, as though gravity itself obeyed him out of respect. Lakes floated above; waterfalls rose toward the heavens; whirlpools spiraled sideways into infinity.
He walked. Each step sent ripples of light through the realm, bending reality in his wake.
Through veils of mist, a shape emerged—a structure vast and radiant, half-concealed, half-revealed. A temple of water and light, pulsing in rhythm with the heart of the world.
"That is where the voice comes from," murmured Eidolon.
Raiking descended toward the temple. The waters accepted his weight like memory remembering its master. Ripples spread beneath his feet, glowing faintly as if carved into the fabric of time.
The mist brightened as he moved, transforming into soft, white light. Mountains rose around him, crowned with rivers that flowed both up and down. At the heart stood the shrine—an endless cascade of water flowing from spires like veins of life.
Crossing the threshold, he entered a hall where water and air intertwined, droplets suspended like stars frozen mid-fall.
And there—standing in the shallows of an endless pool—was a luminous being of oceanic grace. Her skin shimmered like moonlight on still waters, traced with glowing azure markings that pulsed with life. Her long cerulean hair framed pointed ears adorned with drifting, bioluminescent ornaments. Her crystalline eyes mirrored the tranquil depth of the sea itself—serene, knowing, eternal.
Her gaze rose to meet his. When she spoke, her voice resonated in both water and soul.
"God-King."
"Caeruleus."
They greeted each other—the Ocean's Soul and the Fallen Deity—
and the tides themselves seemed to hold their breath.