At that time, one would be hard pressed to find Eternion. He was once again atop a building, overlooking the city. He sat there with his legs crossed and his axe by his side as he watch the sun begin to rise.
'Savor this, old friend, for it shall be my last,' he muttered to himself. He then proceeded to lay the four aging potions before him, lining them up with no real reasoning or order.
'Behold the coming of a new age, in this season of chaos... and in this season, we were chosen. In the time when the shadows would fight back, we would promise ourselves to fight to the end, until all order was restored.'
He thought about Almia and himself, together. They had said many things in their time as adventurers... and in that time, they had made many promises.
'We promised ourselves we would not falter, or run in fear... we are beyond our fears. What reasoning is there to fear death itself? We were born to die, and now in this time between the spark of light and the last breath, we stand as one, ready to protect what we love dearest.'
He picked up the green vial, and opened it. 'Such an odd feeling it is, this blackness I can feel. It goes beyond nerves, for I no longer fear death. I would stare at the reaper and shout that I am not afraid to die. And yet, the cold hand of evil reaches out and tries to sow fear and discord, but I no longer fear evil.'
Eternion drank the first potion, and threw it aside. Next, he picked up the blue vial. 'I have seen too much in my lifetime to let the hands of evil seduce me, or bring me doubt. I have been of the verge of the shadow of death so many times that I no longer care to fear. Dememoras can try, but I am his enemy... and shall always be, and I will not fear him, because even death itself can not frighten me.'
He drank the second vial, and tossed it aside. The taste was unpleasant, but it bothered him little. Next was the golden vial. 'No turning back now, what more is there to say? I shall fight as another soldier in this battle against the forces of evil.'
Eternion drank down the golden vial. Finally, he came to the red one. 'Heck, what am I saying? When I see that bastards face, whether it be in my final death throes or as I watch him fall... I shall scream my name... and I will savor every single second.'
He swallowed every last drop, and then stood up. 'Eternion of Graylane.' He picked up his axe by his side. 'Just like old times, except with more killing, just how I like it. When death finally comes, I'll be ready for him. He'll have to drag me kicking and screaming to the depths of hell.'
And then Eternion felt a strange sensation inside him. He clutched at his chest as the feeling swelled into something else entirely. It was painful, as if his body was try to tear itself apart. He let out a roar, and fell back to the floor. The pain grew until it was at a point where he truly felt he was going to die. His old body couldn't handle it, and he passed out... the blackness embracing him.
