“I always like to have a glimmer of hopefulness, even in collapse.”

  Gord Downie, Canadian Musician

  Oracle shifted in her cage to face the mortal that had found her way to the edge of the abyss. Her thin, malnourished limbs hung uncomfortably between the bars, and her ivory white hair was frayed and dull, with only the faintest shimmer to suggest it had once been vibrant and healthy.

  “We are alone, Bethany, for now,” the goddess advised, her voice barely above a whisper. “Come closer, though don’t stray too close to the edge of the abyss. There is no returning from its depths, even if you did arrive to this place by dream.”

  Bethany approached cautiously, calling upon her Hammer of Light in ball-peen form. Its light illuminated her steps far more than the faint torchlight on the cavern walls. The goddess’ appearance was so different than that of Diana, the copy of herself she had implanted in Bethany’s Oracle Eye, yet Bethany could sense the connection between them.

  Oracle did not react to the added light cast from Bethany’s hammer. She did not follow Bethany’s movements. The goddess stared towards the player but could not see her approach.

  “You’re… blind,” Bethany whispered, regretting the utterance immediately.

  “A recent development, I’m afraid,” Oracle answered without self-pity. “The Authority grew tired of my non-answers and severed me from the life-giving energy we gods require to keep time at bay.”

  “The energy he steals from the players,” Bethany said bitterly. “We fight and we die, and you gods get to live.”

  “Quite so,” Oracle confirmed. “A horrid practice that extends the lives of those whose time has long since passed. I’m certain the Authority believes its absence will break me, and I fear he will be rather vengeful when it does not.”

  “Then we need to get you down from there,” Bethany exclaimed, following the chain to where it was anchored on the cavern wall. She dashed towards it, transforming her hammer into a maul.

  “Save your strength, Bethany,” Oracle insisted. “This is not why you have come to this place.”

  Bethany reached the anchor point. The chain, comprised of thick, rusted iron, would have been able to hold fast an aircraft carrier in a storm.

  “There are only two who may lower this cage, my dear. The Authority and Omoikane, his right hand. These chains were forged long before the gods, and only those two have ever unlocked its secrets. The chains cannot be moved unless those secrets are known, even for those that possess the power of the gods.”

  Bethany ignored the goddess. She raised her maul above her head, targeting where the chain anchored to the wall. She struck with all her strength.

  A resounding clang filled the chamber, and a tiny vibration carried up the length of the chain and rattled, ever so slightly, Oracle’s cage. Oracle raised a curious eyebrow as she pressed her palm to the bars and felt the impact.

  An agonized wail erupted from the abyss in answer to the hammer’s strike. Filled with endless sorrow, the wail – a slow, low-pitched rumble that resembled a call from the deepest depths of the ocean – shook the walls of the cavern and made Bethany’s blood grow cold.

  Bethany dropped her hammer, and its light was snuffed out, leaving her shaking in the dim torchlight.

  “What… what was that?” Bethany stammered when the wail finally vanished, and she was brave enough to speak again. She reformed her hammer – returned to its ball-peen form – and ever-so cautiously inched towards the edge of the abyss.

  “That… was our greatest sin,” Oracle answered, her sightless eyes staring down into the depths of the abyss. “It was the cry of our creator denied freedom. Denied sanity. Denied even the peace that death bestows.”

  “Eternity,” Bethany whispered. Cautiously, she stared over the edge into the darkness – a darkness greater than the deepest night, so impenetrable that even her light dare not challenge it.

  “Eternity,” Oracle agreed. “It lay deep in the abyss – or perhaps beyond it – where no god save Authority can reach it. Kept alive at the edge of consciousness. The tortured prisoner. Our battery.”

  Bethany continued to stare into the abyss and, for the briefest of moments, she thought she felt what lay beyond staring back at her. Her hammer twitched, and, alarmed, she stepped back from the edge.

  “Eternity… it feels so familiar,” Bethany muttered, stowing her hammer in the loop on her belt. “Oracle… I’ve felt Eternity’s presence before. It feels the same as my void, only my void is full of colour and vivid stars, but my void is… smaller, I guess. A river of beauty flowing across reality. This Eternity is just darkness and pain – a twisted reflection of what I know. Two sides of the same coin.”

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  Oracle smiled sadly at Bethany’s realization.

  “This is why you were drawn here, Bethany. What I’m going to tell you now must not be repeated to anyone. If this knowledge reached the ears of the wrong gods, everything we’ve worked towards will be for naught, and your life, and the lives of everyone you love, will be in danger.”

  “It’s not the first of your secrets I’ve had to keep,” Bethany stated. “Tell me, Oracle. I need to know what you’ve dragged me into.”

  Oracle sighed and stared down into the abyss.

  “To the end of Eternity. Three centuries ago, at the height of the industrial revolution, I came across this abyss. Guided to it by a dream, just as you have been guided by yours. It was here that I discovered the Authority’s greatest lie. It was here that I learned of Authority’s betrayal and of our true Creator’s suffering.”

  The pain-filled cry of Eternity sounded out of the abyss once more, and Oracle respectfully waited until the final note had vanished from the cavern before she resumed.

  “Eternity’s cry burrowed its way into my soul. I returned to this place often, and over decades I forged a bond and felt for myself the desperation of its plight. For a century I tried to free our Creator, yet for all my efforts, I failed time and time again. Like the cage I now find myself in, a mere god cannot breach the prison of the abyss.”

  “And when you could not free it, you decided to instead to try to end its suffering?” Bethany surmised. She could still feel Eternity’s cry in her heart, and a tear she hadn’t realized had formed fell to the cavern floor. It’s what she would have done.

  “I wish I could tell you that, Bethany,” Oracle said faintly, her words filled with shame. “At the end of a century of failure, I gave up. I severed our bond and blocked out its cry. I turned a blind eye to Eternity’s plight and abandoned it to suffer in the abyss. ‘We are gods,’ I convinced myself. ‘The suffering of one being is inconsequential compared to the good we bring upon the world.’ Only once I knew the truth, Authority’s great lie, the patterns that shape the world began to unravel. It was always my talent – and my curse – to see such patterns in the world.”

  Bethany could see tears building in the corner of the goddess’ milky-white eyes. It was a jarring sight, and Bethany wished she could reach the frail woman and hold her in her arms for comfort.

  “The gods have become parasites, Bethany. The necessity of the gods in guiding humanity has long since passed. The God Contest – the righteous sacrifice for the greater good – is nothing but a selfish attempt to sustain our immortality while filling a life devoid of purpose with cruel entertainment. Despite this realization, it took me decades to crawl out from beneath my denial.”

  “I… but what does that have to do with me?” Bethany asked.

  “Everything,” Oracle said cryptically, and she gave a weak laugh as Bethany frowned in irritation at her non-answer. “Sorry, giving vague answers to mortals is a bad habit. You see, Bethany, the guilt eventually became too much to bear, and I returned to the abyss. I reconnected with Eternity, and formed my alliance with Thoth, the twins, and our fifth god, who shall remain nameless. ‘To the end of Eternity’ became our rallying cry, and we focused every spare moment on discovering how to end its suffering.”

  Eternity’s cry sounded again, rattling the cavern. Bethany could feel its deep suffering in her heart so powerfully that she clutched her chest, as if feeling the pain herself.

  “Did you find a way?” Bethany asked, gritting her teeth against the pain.

  Through the bars of her cage, Oracle smiled at the being beyond the abyss.

  “We found something better. A glimmer of hope. One year ago, as the God Contest entered its final stage of design, I found six golden discs teetering on the edge of the abyss. The Oracle Eye. Spirit’s Bridge. The Flow of Eternity. Crafted by Eternity itself, it was a message of resistance. Only the discs weren’t created for a god. They were to be wielded by a mortal.”

  “The test you gave me in my dream…,” Bethany whispered, running her finger alongside her Oracle Eye. “You picked me to be Eternity’s weapon. Why? To what end?”

  “I cannot read the mind of Eternity, Bethany,” admitted Oracle. “Perhaps the god of gods has set in motion a grand plan for escape, or perhaps this is simply the final, desperate play of an entity whose sanity left them long ago. I cannot even say if Eternity intended for you to be a weapon – those discs may be for another reason entirely. Regardless, you stand at the center of destiny. You are our glimmer of hope. With each disc you collect, your link to Eternity grows. I suspect this is why your void now shines with brilliant light after you were gifted the Flow of Eternity. Who knows what will happen when you find the next one.”

  Bethany remembered the rainbow light in the darkness and feeling of warmth where once the void was cold and empty. It was the most beautiful sight she had ever seen. Yet, despite its beauty, the thought of being used by Eternity – used as a pawn in the game of the gods – left a sour taste in her mouth.

  “I have left you with more questions than answers,” Oracle declared with an understanding smile. “Such is the way of oracles, I’m afraid. But if you survive the God Contest – and if I survive the war between Ah Puch and Authority – perhaps we shall both find the answers we seek.”

  Despite the intense curiosity and anxiety that settled over her like a blanket, Bethany found herself yawning. Her vision grew blurry, and she stumbled where she stood.

  “You need your rest, it seems,” Oracle said regretfully, enjoying the company. “Even Eternity’s gifts do not overcome the blessed revitalization that sleep provides a weary mind. Forget the plight of gods, Bethany, if only for a day. Focus on the God Contest and the Key of Fire. Fight and grow strong, and as you do, you shall find your answers.”

  “Your cage… what about you?”

  “I thought I’d just… hang around here,” Oracle weakly laughed, causing Bethany to frown again. “We each have a role to play, my dear, and, for now, mine finds me in this cage. Now go – the Challenge of the Key of Fire is no place for exhausted players.”

  “I’ll come back to see you again,” Bethany promised, reluctant to leave.

  “Perhaps you shall do more than that,” Oracle said with a glint in her blind eyes. “Fight with heart, Bethany, and win, so we can finally end the God Contest.”

  Bethany took a deep breath and looked away from Oracle. She closed her eyes tightly and pinched the back of her hand.

  She woke up in her pajamas, blinked, and collapsed into a dreamless sleep.

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