She had changed.

  That which once threatened to overwhelm her, she had subdued.

  Her strength now a boon, her ability to perceive the world as it was, a gift.

  It was wondrous.

  Like the wonder she saw before her.

  The Great Canal — one of the marvels of the Ambition’s Dominion. She knew of it; how could she not? It bound the Sea of Possibility and the city within it to the old lands — the Primeval Realms.

  She turned around, and saw in the far distance, a small red light, a star barely above the horizon. It was the beacon of the home she had left, a distant reminder of where she had come from, and what she had abandoned.

  Her Lady slowed their speed; a pulled handle did the job, and they settled parallel to a great brass ship, one of many. All laden with goods and wares, part of this artery of commerce.

  Socia let her fingers touch the cool salty waters.

  Real. No need for her Lady to force her will upon it.

  She felt all that had occurred: the endless exchange of goods and people, the tension between the chaos of the sea, and the stability which lay beyond the canal.

  It seemed less like a canal than a very narrow sea, and as they entered it, she saw what bordered it.

  Desolation.

  An endless grey waste. To call it a desert, would imply there was life, and there was none. Even the sky above reflected its nature; no clouds, no wind, the stars dim, only the moon resisted, and when dawn arrived, perhaps the sun would show defiance as well.

  Her Lady steered them onward, into it.

  “You have done well, Socia. But our journey is far from over. There are still many paths for you to walk. But now, you are prepared,” her Lady said.

  She received the words, and their journey continued.

  Shimmering water beneath them, grey wastes beyond it, and all around: vessels of brass and silver.

  Some smooth, others more angular, their hulls dotted with lights. Symbols of progress and industry.

  Motion surrounded by stillness.

  Life and death.

  The sun alone defied the desolation around her; she herself only endured it.

  They had voyaged a day or two; it was hard to recall since this place devoured all, not just life and strength, but will and spirit as well. They disembarked at the grey coast, entered the waste, and began their journey.

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  Why? She didn’t know. Only that it was her Lady’s will.

  Her Lady walked several paces before her, the cold malign hunger unable to affect her. It pervaded the air, the ground, an absence, yet it had a will.

  She could sense it.

  She stumbled and fell to her knees. Her fingers dug into the dead earth; it was so easy, it yielded and offered no resistance. A rock she found within it. It crumbled before her eyes as she picked it up.

  Stone to dust.

  This was not the dissolution of the sea, this was annihilation.

  The end of all journeys.

  The final destination.

  The dust slipped between her fingers as she rose and carried on her journey, her gaze upon the one who seemed to have no end.

  Her Lady.

  But even she was wary. Her steps measured, as if she had entered a realm of a sovereign power, someone outside her father’s rule.

  Could such a being exist?

  “Do you feel her, my Socia?” her Lady said.

  Yes.

  “I feel someone… something old… something spiteful,” Socia said.

  She moved closer to her, to her presence, which shielded her from the all-encompassing dread.

  “She resents my father’s rule,” her Lady said.

  “But she obeys and that will suffice.”

  Her hand touched Socia’s cheek, and she felt life — warmth that streamed into her, a reprieve.

  “You cannot deny her. She is the end of all things.”

  Even you?

  “Even… your father?” Socia said.

  Her Lady’s face remained unchanged.

  “My father is and will ever be,” she said.

  She took Socia’s hand as they walked on the barren ground, the nothingness which was as vast as the sea they had left — and as endless.

  “Every choice is an end, and she is the end of all things,” she said.

  “Accept it. Accept her. Do not resist.”

  She let Socia’s hand go, and her warmth left with it.

  Her Lady walked away from her and left her behind but not out of sight.

  Socia walked. She suffered.

  The sun above granted only illumination, no heat, not even the merciless kind.

  She let her strength be sapped, her mind fade, but enough of both remained.

  To walk, to take one step, then another.

  To follow her.

  Loss was inevitable, but one could have…

  Ambition.

  Perhaps that is why the Desolation had yielded to him.

  It could take from her, but Socia could become more.

  With every step.

  A voice that was no voice. Words were not said but still heard.

  “Daughter of the Ambition, why do you trespass unbidden within my realm?”

  She felt it in her bones, scraping her skin, scratching her mind.

  An absence as vast as the ocean, as wide as the sky, yet nowhere.

  Her Lady stopped and she caught up with her. Nestled close. Her Lady’s presence, her anchor.

  “I walk with purpose, my father’s, as do you,” her Lady said.

  The stars dimmed, some vanished.

  “I have with me my Socia.”

  The ground cracked beneath Socia’s feet, made her lose her footing, but she did not fall.

  “We come not to defy you, for we follow my father’s laws.”

  Her hands sought protection in her Lady. Unbidden, she touched her, sought her warmth. Her fingers on her shoulder. She was not rejected.

  “As do you,” her Lady said.

  Her fingers moved down, along her Lady’s arm and sought her grip, and it was given.

  “As long as you follow the law, I will permit your passage,” the Desolation said.

  Stars returned, the ground held.

  “But know this, spawn of the usurper. All things are subject to laws.”

  High above in the sky the sun was as it ever was, unchanged, constant.

  “And judgement.”

  The nothing was gone, for had it ever even been there.

  They walked on, hand in hand. One step after another. Dust under their feet.

  Through the Desolation.

  Across the grey, under the sun, until she saw it.

  An oasis in the middle of nothing. A pool of water under the shade of palms, and a cluster of silken tents, white but for patterns of various colors on them.

  “My sanctuary,” her Lady said.

  She pulled Socia along, as she moved toward it, her pace a little brisker.

  She left Socia a step behind — and with a thought —

  Usurper.