A death knell.
Logos's bone whistle.
...
I'm fine, Doctor.
I'm just reminded of... a lot of things.
Logos rarely conducted himself as Lord of the Banshees when we were at Rhodes Island.
He said he was no different from Scout or Misery, just another Sarkaz operator who believed in the ideals of Rhodes Island.
The day we set out, when Logos put on his Royal Court garment...
I sensed great determination in his eyes...
And great sorrow.
...
The bone whistle has cracked. The bone pen has broken. Blood flows the corner of his lips.
You can no longer use witchcraft.
You push yourself to the limit, burning all the blood in your body to blow your bone whistle... just to stop me for a moment.
Aefanyl...
You are a fine warrior.
The Nachzehrer King spreads his arms wide.
The tattered banners draped over him rise up, as though echoing the countless wars the Sarkaz have fought.
Rotten flesh and blood fall from his wounds new and old, nourishing the battlefield. New branches sprout from the soil, repairing the warriors that have been damaged by incantations.
The fallen Sudaram rise again.
But you are not fighting one, or a few.
There have been no shortage of revolutionaries amongst the Sarkaz or the Royal Court. They have all failed, just as Theresa did.
War is the great boulder destined to fall on top of the Sarkaz in the abyss, again and again.
And you...
You've gained the Nachzehrers' respect, and so I shall now grant you death.
The Nachzehrer walks atop mists of decay towards the young Banshee.
'Sever.'
The Banshee utters the final incantation, so soft it is almost inaudible. The cutting words become a tangible blade, which he grabs with his hand—
And cuts off the Nachzehrer King's right arm.
Theresis's swordcraft—
The full blast of the Nachzehrer King's power hits Logos in the chest.
He falls from the cliff.
The ground made of Originium begins to collapse.
Logos pictures how the familiar ship treads mountains and rivers, its tracks giving off the same rumbling.
He remembers the first time he came to Rhodes Island and stood shoulder-to-shoulder on the deck with Theresa. She looked out over Kazdel, while he listened to the wailing in the wind.
He remembers Mechanist hunched over, fiddling with parts, chiding Closure for wasting materials. Outcast and Blaze betting on how long it would last, and a robotic arm reaching over to grab his hat.
He remembers Ace's bloodied palm by his shield and cup. Scout's palm was a little cooler, about the temperature of his crossbow, and he could tell them apart by shaking their hands and high-fiving.
He remembers the Doctor and Amiya saying goodnight in the corridors, when Amiya suddenly stopped him to ask if he was ready to go to Londinium.
He remembers Dr. Kal'tsit taking Amiya's hand and bringing her between them—
'Theresa is gone. Amiya is the new leader of Rhodes Island.'
Logos keeps falling—
Falling until he is completely submerged in cold water.
He remembers himself many years ago.
You have made your decision.
Yes.
I will stay at Rhodes Island and journey the land with the ship.
Theresa is gone.
The dream of Babel...
...Lives.
Her Highness has named her heir. She is young, but carries a familiar fire in her eyes that belongs only to dreamers.
And it's not just for her that I choose to stay.
The journey of Her Highness's search hasn't ended, and it should not end like this. I will continue the journey, as long as the answer to the future of the Sarkaz lies elsewhere.
I may not come back to the Valley for a long time.
Do you feel sorry because you cannot stay with us?
I will not act as a sovereign of the Royal Court outside the Valley.
Many will see my will as the will of the Royal Court. They may see the Banshees as their enemies... I'm afraid I won't be able to help you fend off any storms coming from outside the Valley.
If any old friends want to pay a visit, I'll be sure to give them a warm welcome.
I will not question the former master of the Valley of the Banshees...
My sister and I worry for you in the same way.
...
Take our thoughts with you.
The song of the Banshees surrounds their young lord.
The water becomes warm, like a pair of warm hands that pull the fallen back.
Logos opens his eyes.
He seems to see his mother, and everyone else he holds dear.
'Aefanyl, the most beautiful wave of the Valley, its loveliest song... we must stay and watch you go away...'
'But our blessing will be with you, wherever you go.'
...
Hang in there, Aefanyl.
We're with you. We've always been with you.
The power of incantation fills Logos, to the very ends of his limbs.
He opens his lips again.
A song filled with power echoes on the river reflecting the most beautiful wave.
All the pursuers are compelled to stop.
...
I never thought I would hear the chorus of the Banshees here in this distant land.
Ever is death accompanied by new life...
Are you still trying to sway me with song, young one, here at the end of all things?
My Patriarch, this is no more than a Banshee's incantation.
They have not truly joined the battle. Our foe remains only the young Banshee.
...
Yes...
Your injuries are grave...
The curse of Aefanyl dictates that decay return to decay. I will not be able to regenerate for some time. But this body will last long enough to see this battle through.
For now... let me hear his song, and that of the Banshees.
Nezzsalem walks to the edge of the cliff, without the help of any Arts.
For an instant, he looks like an ordinary old man.
Do you remember Buldrokkas'tee?
Yes.
You raised him as you would raise your own son.
Such a talented boy. He would have become the hero of Kazdel.
He was my best student.
But he left Kazdel, and died to a conspiracy in a distant land.
But he died a warrior. He lived the meaning of life through war, and returned to the myriad souls upon his death.
After that... after that...
Where is the next hero of Kazdel?
Nezzsalem looks down the cliff.
Wind passes through the holes in his body that have not healed, creating sounds without meaning.
The dirge of the myriad souls has grown softer.
Logos's bone whistle has temporarily suppressed the link between the Blood of Teekaz and Originium.
This is our chance.
Doctor, Dr. Kal'tsit... this time, I won't let it slip from my hands.
...They've caught up.
Are you here too, dear Qui'saršinnag?
You and our Leader... our dear father. Who will be the one to approach the throne?
Salus reaches for the drop of blood at the top of the altar.
Originium burns, and the myriad souls roar.
The powerful witchcraft quickly turns her fingers into charred black crystals.
I want to see it so badly...
The origin is so near.
You—
You've hid well.
It took a long time to find you. Too long.
Traitor!
How many have you killed on your way here?
...Not more than I killed when I escaped.
The underground labs were full of the dead back then... our dead.
You ruined our Leader's plans at the Royal Academy of Sciences. The Victorians almost found out about it because of you!
I wish he had never succeeded.
Ha... that's not what you used to say.
How dare you act high and mighty, when you were the one who gave us our orders!
That cave outside Londinium, all the research bases... was there any part of it that you weren't in charge of?
The Leader was in Kazdel most of the time. You were the one who directed the research. You looked exactly like the Leader with your mask on!
I had no choice back then.
No choice? What about the things you said when you took us to Londinium and had us don this mask?
We were mere mercenaries, but we believed in the Confessarii's teachings, believed in the 'First and Final Path' that you preached!
Our original sin, the sin that outsiders imposed upon us, will be washed away at its coming.
Was that all a lie?
...
I wish that was a lie.
it wasn't a lie... it was real. All the Leader's promises to us were sincere. The same for you, Qui'saršinnag, even if you have strayed from the path...
The Leader and the Regent are so close to victory.
The freedom and power that have been lost for thousands of years are about to return to the hands of the Sarkaz.
...
Kill me if you want.
Go and see the Leader. Your father.
He is waiting for you at the end of the path. They're all waiting for you.
You will witness it for us, for every life that your sword took.
...
Shining removes the guard's mask.
She remembers the face. He was one of the first mercenaries that the Confessarii brought to Londinium.
They knew nothing at first. They were only tasked to excavate the ruins outside the city.
The young man had expressed his gratitude to her directly, thanked the Confessarii for giving them a safe, well-paid job.
It was not long before she stopped hearing those words.
The Leader of the Confessarii came to Londinium.
There were no more idle mercenaries drinking and playing games. Everyone put on the same mask, and did not speak except when necessary.
They had no special bloodline. Qui'sartuštaj should not have been able to control their will so easily.
But the part of them that belonged to themselves died before the great dreams of the Confessarii.
It was she who killed them first.
This sin...
...has gone on long enough.
The mask cracks. The pieces stab at Shining's palm.
She continues her journey to the top.