The summer sun was slowly beginning to set over Halfway Bay, painting the long-contested strip of barren coastland in brilliant gold and orange. The air was hot and dry, the late summer warmth firmly refusing to give up its hold on the world even as the days began to grow shorter. The mud and clay of the ground had dried up and cracked, forming a vast pattern of uneven tiles that stretched like an enormous brown and grey mosaic as far as the eye could see along the desolate coast. It was a lonely place, and while both kingdoms had long claimed ownership of the area, neither had ever bothered to fight over it. But today, the barren coast was seeing more people than it had in the last thousand years combined. Sturdy wooden stands had been hastily constructed near the coast, facing inwards to observe a large stone stage so perfectly smooth and flawless it could only have been constructed with magic. The stands were crowded with visitors from both kingdoms, ranging from diplomats to nobles to military leaders to wealthy merchants and captains of industry. Hundreds of men and women waited with bated breath, their eyes locked upon the central stage. And upon that stage stood the two goddesses. Even at a moment’s glance, they were starkly different. The Starlit Goddess with her skin as dark as midnight, her hair glowing gently white like the moon. Her dark blue dress was studded with diamonds, making it sparkle like a starry sky, and her gentle smile seemed to almost radiate an unearthly calm. And next to her was the Sunlit Goddess, her skin pure, unblemished white and her hair glowing with such brilliant light it was almost painful to look at. She was dressed in sturdy leathers artfully decorated with gold, almost a compromise between armour and finery, and her eyes burned with absolute, unfaltering ambition. The two goddesses stood upon the stage, as different as night and day, and looked out upon the audience as they waited for the rulers of the elements to formally open the meeting. But while they were looking out at the gathered crowd, their true attention was constantly on each other, both of them expecting some sort of treachery from the other. “They haven’t said a single word to each other.” Sven muttered worriedly as he looked up at the stage. “Not even so much as a simple greeting.” Adam shrugged as he leaned back against a cart. The carts that had carried the material and guests to this remote area stood some way from the stage, just out of earshot from the goddesses and the gathered crowd. He and Aro had gathered the other rulers there in preparation for the event to come. “Are you sure this will work, Adam?” Lily asked with a worried tone. “I’m sure it will work perfectly.” Adam replied. “But they clearly don’t trust each other for a second.” Maya said. “How can you hope to reach some kind of diplomatic agreement without any trust?” “Everything will go exactly according to plan.” Aro replied firmly. “And what is the plan?” Yala asked. “The actual plan. Don’t you think it’s about time you tell us?” Adam caught Aro’s gaze, and the two of them reached out with their magic. Sensing a massive force approaching from just beyond the horizon, they shared a quick nod. It was time. “At this moment, a massive wave is approaching this bay. It is easily large enough to crush or drown every single human being on this beach.” Aro said, his voice as hard as steel. “WHAT?” Dahn shouted, flames sparking in the air around him. “Be quiet and listen!” Adam snapped harshly. “It is much too late to try to evacuate the crowd. And there is nothing me or Aro can do to stop the wave. We’ve been building it up for days, now, and nothing we can do in the minutes that remain will even begin to halt its progress.” “But you six can stop it!” Aro continued, not letting the bewildered monarchs before him get a word in. “Maya, Sven. You can use your powers to dig up the ocean floor, forming a huge trench in the path of the wave and using the sand and earth to build up a wall before it. Dahn, Amber, with your fire you can melt the surface of this barricade, turning the loose clay and sand into ceramic and glass. Yala, Lily, with your wind you can cool the molten surface, hardening it to stand against the power of the wave.” “There’s no time for arguments or questions.” Adam concluded. “If you act now, you can save every man and woman on this beach. But if you hesitate, hundreds of people are going to die. NOW GO!” “But… Why would you…” Maya began, but Amber interrupted her. “If Adam says there’s no time, there’s NO TIME!” She shouted, already starting to run towards the beach One after the other, the other monarchs turned to follow her. Maya shot one final look at Aro, hurt and confusion evident on her face, but then she followed the five mages sprinting towards the beach. “This is it.” Adam said. “Let’s end this.” Aro replied. Determination writ clear upon their faces, they drew their swords and headed for the stage. Worry and unrest spread through the stands as the gathered nobles and dignitaries tried to figure out what was going on. The sight of six monarchs running along the long beach of the bay, using enormously powerful magic to construct a massive if makeshift wall, was bewildering and worrying in itself. Soon thereafter, those seated at the top of the stands spotted the enormous mass of rushing water cresting the distant horizon. That was when the shouting started. Adam and Aro leapt onto the stage, Adam positioning himself before the Starlit Goddess while Aro stood before her sunlit counterpart. The goddesses were visibly confused. They had both come here expecting treachery from each other, but they certainly hadn’t expected anything like this. In almost perfect unison, they turned to demand answers from their respective champions. “Adam.” The Starlit Goddess said reprovingly. “What is the meaning of this?” “Don’t you see? Your divine rule has to end. You speak of kindness, protection and gentle correction, but you are smothering the very land you have sworn to protect. Under your rule, the people have no chance to improve, to grow, to learn. There is no innovation, no development. The kingdom is locked in stasis as the firm hand of the government encroaches ever further on the land and its people. In another few thousand years, every forest and farm, every mine and business, every man, woman and child would have been little more than property of the government, slaves to your ‘gentle guidance’. And yet for all your talk of protecting the people, they were helpless before an outside threat. When war threatened the kingdom’s borders, you sent for us, because you knew there was no other hope for salvation. The greatest threat this kingdom faces is not the ancient enemy. It is you.” As Adam spoke to the Starlit Goddess, the Sunlit Goddess had turned to Aro with anger glowing in her eyes. “Aro! What do you think you’re doing?” “I am fighting for my kingdom’s future. You speak to us of determination, of ambition, of fighting and sacrificing for the sake of a grand future. But all you’ve brought us is ruin, disease and death. The lower classes starve in overcrowded cities. The air grows thick and toxic with smoke from the factories. Our mines are depleted, our forests cut clear, our very soil struggling to bear the strain placed on it. Your ambition is withering my kingdom to a husk. And for what? To make the industrialists and the nobles wealthy while the common men starve? To amass great armies to conquer foreign lands, so we may steal their resources as well? What grand future can we have if our land is dead and despoiled, our people destitute and desperate? Innovation and expansion should happen for the sake of the people, not at the cost of their well-being. The true obstacle to a glorious future for our kingdom was never our ‘old enemy’, it was always you!” For a time, the goddesses stood, bewildered. Every part of this course of events had caught them wrong-footed. The commotion in the stands. The other monarchs running desperately to protect the bay from an encroaching wall of rushing water. Their respective champions standing in front of them with blades drawn, radiating pure, unshakable devotion to their cause. As they listened to the lectures delivered by those they had trusted most, the very core of their beliefs were shaken. For just one moment, the very ideals which they embodied wavered. It only lasted for a second, but that was long enough. Because the swords were already moving. First River and Eternal Rain were blades of water, ancient artefacts that could cut through anything less pure than the hearts of their wielders. In this moment, the purity of their wielders’ hearts was absolute. And for one single instant, the purity of the goddesses’ hearts was not. In a flash of brilliant silver, the swords slashed through the bodies of the goddesses, cutting through their very core. The goddesses’ eyes grew wide with shock and betrayal, but the very core of their being had been cut asunder, and soon they began to lose themselves entirely. Slowly, gradually, their humanoid forms started to dissolve into pools of absolute darkness and brilliant light. As the two competing essences mixed upon the stone, they formed into a puddle of pure magic, shimmering and shifting in twilight hues of gold and purple. Adam and Aro sheathed their blades and turned towards the stands, and as they did so a wall of rushing water struck the hastily erected barricade with a thunderous roar. The hardened surface of the barricade cracked and shattered under the strain, and the ground shook and rumbled as though struck by an earthquake, but the wall held firm, and nothing but spray and splashes managed to crest the hastily erected defences. As the panic in the crowd subsided into shock and confusion, Adam and Aro addressed the crowd. “Some time ago, I found myself asking a question I had difficulty answering.” Adam began, his strong, confident voice easily carrying across the barren landscape. “Who can make a person’s choices for them? Who has that power, and more importantly, who has that right? Friends and family? Kings and queens? Goddesses? And who has the right to make the choices of an entire nation? A world?” “For thousands of years, our two kingdoms have been enemies, driven to war and hatred not by the goddesses themselves, but by the ideals they slavishly followed to their utmost extremes.” Aro continued. “Blinded by devotion, we have allowed our kingdoms to fall. One to stagnation, the other to ruin. But no more!” “The answer to the question, then, is that no-one can, no one should make another person’s choices for them. And no-one has the right to decide a nation’s fate but its people. Not kings or queens. Not gods or goddesses. Only the people can decide their own path.” “Yesterday, you were all slaves. To the crown. To the faith. To ideals you have been taught to never question. But tomorrow, you will be free. Tomorrow, your fate will be in your own hands. Tomorrow, you will awaken as masters of your own destiny!” As Aro’s final words rang out to the audience, a murmur swept across the crowd. There was confusion, of course, and worry, and distrust, but there was also excitement, hope, consideration. Soon, the shouting started again, but it wasn’t the panicked shouting from before. It was the sound of dozens of arguments spread across hundreds of people. Hundreds of voices, hundreds of thoughts and positions, hundreds of ideas and desires. And yet, at a distance, the sea of discordant voices seemed to transform into some sort of peculiar harmony. It sounded like change. Adam and Aro shared a satisfied nod.