1344  A Crossroad

The abode of creation where Gaia resided looked the same—an endless expanse of white that held nothing, as if the origins of creation were just that. Arthur stepped out of the portal, which closed behind him. Inside this empty space, he found Gaia staring into a small pond. He already knew what she was about to say.

“We had a deal.”

Arthur remained silent, recalling the deal vividly. Gaia had not wished for the worlds to merge because of the horrific events that would result from such a change. However, Arthur knew that in order to use the Isotox to separate the two worlds, he would have had to sacrifice Diana. And he had refused at the time.

“I know.”

“And deals must be honored,” Gaia repeated, still refusing to look at him. Arthur took a few steps forward but was dragged back three instead. Gaia would not let him approach.

“I know.”

“You clearly don’t know, as you can see. I didn’t say a thing when your wrath disabled the legacy protecting humans. It was an unfortunate accident, though some might blame you for losing control. Your powers of creation were placed on hold until recently.”

Gaia waved a hand, watching the ripples in her pond. Arthur knew she was gazing upon the world she had protected for thousands of years. She had done so selflessly, without a single desire for personal gain. Everything she did, she did out of duty.

“I can’t be like you. I made a selfish choice, but I paid the price.”

“Thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, have died because of that choice,” Gaia rebuked him again. Arthur stood silent. “What price have you paid? A few days of losing your sight is no price, Arthur Silvera.”

“Arthur Netherborne.”

“Is that what you call yourself now?” the Goddess of Creation laughed. “You’ve grown quite arrogant since inheriting the will of Ragnar, boy. But that man would never have made the choices you made. You are selfish and small-minded, while he was… the most merciful and kind.”

“Ragnar died because of that kindness. He couldn’t make the necessary sacrifices to defeat Devaheim,” Arthur countered, though he knew his argument was weak. Ragnar had been far more powerful than Arthur could ever hope to be, yet he still lost. “If I follow the same path, I’ll end up alone, just like he did.”

“I met him once,” Gaia revealed while staring into the pond, which changed again. Arthur somehow sensed it was showing the past, not the present. “I faced him as the goddess of creation in this world. He wanted me to follow him as well.”

“What did you do?”

“I refused because I knew my world wasn’t ready. The moment you oppose Devaheim, gates from the kingdom of gods would open. Just like your Divine Selection now. They would arrive, endless and relentless, to crush any resistance to their reign. My world could never survive that.”

“What about the other worlds?” Arthur asked with a frown. “There are other worlds with other goddesses of creation?”

“Each world has a keeper. Morana and I have protected this world as long as we can remember. Everything changed when our third sister birthed the calamities and sins. Ever since, our world has been diseased.”

“Where is that sister now?”

“She’s part of Devaheim as well. Weakening our world was part of her deal with them,” Gaia said, waving her hand. “Ragnar offered us revenge for what she did, but we failed him. In the end, he lost the battle, and his soul shattered, never to reincarnate. His will, however, was passed down to today—passed down to someone who can never be him.”

“I don’t want to be him, Gaia,” Arthur replied with a frown. “I’m not Ragnar, and I’m not King Arthur who came to save this world. I’m Arthur Netherborne.”

“Do you know what Netherborne means?” Gaia asked, turning to face him. Her expression was anything but kind. Her icy golden eyes pierced his soul. “It means ‘he who is born in the lower realms.’ Ragnar chose that name to remind his descendants of their roots.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“It’s about the choice you made. You sacrificed peace to save one person. What gives you that right? How are you any different from the calamities, who sacrifice others to get what they want?” Gaia’s flowing golden hair rose in rage.

“What should I have done?”

“A hero sacrifices everything for others. I believed you were capable of that, but I’m disappointed. You chose your own happiness and ignored the cries of the weak. And now, you refuse to pay the price.”

“A hero? Is that what you think I am?” Arthur asked with a sudden smile. “What kind of hero would I be if I couldn’t even protect those I care about?”

“Even villains sacrifice the world for their loved ones, Arthur. What you did can’t be undone, and you have to live with the choice you made. I turned a blind eye because… I care about you. I wanted you to be happy, too. Because I felt guilty for throwing the responsibility of saving my world onto the shoulders of a twenty-year-old human.”

“Guilt means little, Mother of Creation,” Arthur said, his smile fading. “You’re the same as the rest of the world to me: just another person trying to make me suffer. I’ve been given impossible choices at every turn. I live with the consequences of what I’ve done. I destroyed a timeline and merged worlds, but did I ever ask to be the one pulling the trigger?”

Gaia was silent, her features twisting with guilt. She was enraged that Arthur refused to pay the price for saving Diana, but she also knew that he had never asked for any of this.

“Wrath, creation, and whatever else I have… these weren’t things I aspired to. They’re curses that have plagued me every step of the way. And now I find myself at a crossroads. I can either be the happy villain or the miserable hero. What kind of a fucked-up fate is that? Why should I carry this guilt just because I chose to be happy?”