Archimedes, the newest member of the Great Eight, was sworn in today, dethroning a Chosen One, killing him in one-on-one combat.
The fight was long and arduous.
The Chosen One even used his manifested ability, but the elderly Dyad made the Chosen One look like an amateur. The fight lasted roughly two hours, but only because the Elder tried to have the Chosen One concede his position.
The Chosen One refused to surrender, and it cost him his life.
Archimedes had this to say about the fight:
"I had given him every opportunity to step down as a member. I preferred the matter be settled in private, but he decided he would rather die stubborn than lose his position. Despite these fools turning my disagreement into a spectacle, I look forward to serving my people and stopping the Red Death, once and for all."
News Article released shortly after Elder Archimedes' coronation into the Great Eight.
Written by Kindly Barons
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"Hey, Dad. I'm home!"
Gwyn shouted to the empty living room.
She tossed her bag on the couch as she passed the dented cushions. She heard sizzling coming from the kitchen.
"Hey, Big G, how was work?" Her father turned his head to watch the TV in the living room. Her father immediately sensed her hesitation. "Did something happen at work?"
He turned off the burner and focused on his daughter.
"No, no!" Gwyn said, with a rush of panic in her voice.
This confirmed his suspicion. He stepped away from the stove and approached her.
"Did some weird guy show up?"
"No, no. I'm fine. No weird guy, Dad, just…" Gwyn hesitated again, looking away.
Her father lowered himself to meet her eyes. Gwyn wasn't short, but her father was over a foot taller than she was. When her father was serious, he would always lower himself to her, even when she was a child.
He pulled Gwynevere into a firm hug.
"The anniversary is today," he said in a low voice. "If you want to talk about it, we can."
He brushed her hair with his hand, and she dug her face into his chest, carefully not to bend the frames of her glasses. Gwyn hadn't forgotten what happened all those years ago. Now, her father was all she had left, which was enough. But that didn't fill the vacant hole they were left with.
"I know…" She trailed off.
Gwyn could never forget what today was, but that occurrence before closing at the library let the horrible reality escape for a brief moment. One might say she felt a little excited and curious.
She pulled away from the hug and looked at her father.
"Dad, I'm going to lie down. I haven't slept in like a day because of the project and—"
"Hey." He placed a hand on her shoulder. "I get it." He smiled. "If you want to talk, I'll be down here. Leftovers will be in the fridge, okay?"
A smile slowly rose on the edges of her mouth, and she nodded, feeling tears at the corners of her eyes. She turned around, grabbed her backpack, and headed upstairs to her room.
It had become a habit that whenever she passed the bedrooms, frozen in time, she would glance in their direction.
They used to belong to her brother and sister in a time not too long ago.
Had it already been ten years?
Gwyn clearly remembered a time when she had to be quiet in the middle of the night so as not to wake anyone.
Now?
It feels like no one sleeps in this home. At least, not soundly.
Her father watched her go up the stairs. He didn't know what to say. He still felt the sorrow of their loss. His vision traced the walls of the room, where the former happy family's portrait seemed utterly foreign to the current reality.
When Gwyn reached her room, she tossed her bag onto the bed and collapsed right beside it.
A few hours later, a humming startled her awake. She reached for her flip phone and looked at the messages—empty. A faint glow caught her attention. Within her backpack, light shimmered through the fabric's gaps.
She cautiously unzipped the backpack, and light flowed from the bag like water, illuminating the entire room. The golden rays curled up the walls until Gwyn's bedroom was entirely coated in golden-orange light.
"I haven't had a dream like this one," Gwyn muttered.
She leaned up from the bed, and the water of light twisted together. The shape slowly took on the form of a woman who resembled Gwynevere Grim's mother. The woman looked around the room, and once its eyes met Gwyn's, it spoke.
"My daughter," the golden phantom said, reaching out to Gwyn.
The young woman couldn't believe her eyes. The golden figure reached her arms around her head and pulled Gwyn into a soft embrace. It was as if the young woman were freezing, and her mother's warm embrace melted the snow of misery and longing.
"I miss you."
Gwyn wept.
Her dreams had typically been of other things—nothing this sincere or wondrous. Her nightmares consisted of that violent night and the sounds spawned from it. This was the opposite.
This is what Gwyn always wanted.
"I know, my dear," the golden figure pulled herself away from Gwyn and looked down in her tear-filled green eyes. "Everything good must be cherished. Terrible things can happen. Every action can be performed correctly, and still end in failure."
The phantom traced her golden lips over the young woman's forehead, brushing her hair back.
Gwyn's muffled scream was buried deep in the specter's chest.
"Why must it be us? Why me?"
"We are masters of our fate, my daughter. We may not be at fault for everything that happens to us, but we are responsible for how we respond."
A smile crossed the figure's lips, and this reassured Gwyn.
"Dad has been trying," Gwyn said. "He sits alone in the living room at night. He watches the TV with the sound off. Staring blankly at the flashing colors. He misses you most," Gwyn admitted.
This mental picture, she confessed, is why Gwyn no longer leaves her room at night.
"Tell him I miss him when you can." The golden figure pulled Gwyn's face up again, wiping away her tears. "You must do something for me now, okay?"
"Anything."
Gwyn's innocent eyes stared deep into her mother's.
"Go into your bag, take out that tome from earlier, and finish reading the passage. It will make your father's suffering end."
"That's all I have to do?" Gwyn asked, excitement filling her entire body.
The golden rays now curled around the young woman, twirling up and around her arms. They reached her hair and parted the follicles like a soft hand.
"That's all you have to do," The golden figure reassured.
Gwyn slowly pulled away from the image of her mother, and the specter gracefully floated away from the young woman.
She reached into her bag, revealing the tome. Its face was still present on the cover. It looked peaceful, like it hadn't a single care in the universe.
With an avid determination, Gwyn gripped the tome and flipped the pages that shone brightly in the aura of the room.
It wasn't long until Gwyn found the passage from before. The only one in the book that was in her language.
She struggled to read it at first, but now the words were perfectly legible.
An image appeared in Gwyn's mind.
An image of safety. An image of happiness. An image of completeness.
She was about to become whole. Everything was about to be made right. Without even looking at the page, she began reciting the incantation.
"I was born in the wrong universe.
First, I'll leave it all behind.
Never time to watch me cry.
Never let my soul unwind.
Find calamity beyond the strictures that have stricken our people;
Seek the sun, and seek it peacefully.
Let my soul deny indecency.
Let me leave everything I know,
So I can save what matters most."