“You did it, Marcus, King of Cloud Nation!”
The voice echoed through his mind as he felt blood soak his clothes. He could recognize its sound, its distinct resonance, even after all those years, it sounded exactly as he remembered it.
The goddess.
“It is time.” The voice whispered. “You made it.” Marcus could see the world around him slowly start to fade. He sat with his back to the wheel of a supply cart, the spear still sticking out of his chest.
He had done it. He thought, the chosen one had finally arrived, even if it had taken him five decades, he was here, and the people of cloud nation had been ready, and now, on their first battle together in this foreign land, he had fallen.
His only regret, that his freedom had never come, although it hadn’t been long before he realized it never would, still, all his visions had come true, his sons, his daughter, and now, the return of the chosen one, the very last vision he had ever had.
And then, the world had faded, and all he could see was the light, and in it, a figure, the same figure he had seen in his visits to this place all those years ago, then, a vague outline, that he knew had been the goddess, now, and image as clear as day.
“Are you ready, child?” The goddess asked.
“Yes” He said, with a sight that rattled what remained of his lungs.
And he died.
