Xavos smiled his first true smile of the day. The dilemma made his blue now grey eyes twinkle in the failing light of day as the last rays of light burned across the seas teaming with the enemies of the God of Heavens’ Armies. The last Paladin stroked his black and ever greying beard at the temptations life sent an aging warrior.

He found the notion to be a pleasant reminder that he was but a man under the holy armor of gold and crimson. Even the one who carried the blessed cross of the good savior had the urge to save his own skin at times. His addled body desperate to convince him to continue their existence for just one age more. Though truly there was the smell of cloaked daggers and dark deeds in the air, Xavos knew where a Paladin should stand no matter the treachery of mortal kind.

“Bolane!” Called Xavos in a voice of rising joy as he thought of the songs he would sing in the Heavens at the end of this day,” Bring us into the swarm and release all our stores! Make for the Lich Spire of Carn. We have undead to purge once more before we ride the chariots of fire to our eternal reward. The dead will not have even one of the races of light while the Paladins still draw breath,” a ragged cry went up from the acolytes which soon turned into a battle hymn as they finished healing their wounds with what magic they still had strength to complete. The sound warmed the Paladin's heart even as he fought off all signs of sadness. These were his, and thus they were the Father’s. They would face their end with a dignity that even the undead would shake to see.

Light shimmered around the many towers and domes of the isle of Eternal Light given to the Arch Paladin of man and now of the world. The great fortress had weathered generations of undead, unclean goblin, troll, and even dragon storms. But all work of mortal and even immortal man must come to an end. In that moment Xavos could just hear the spirit of the isle with her white stones and shining golden crosses now covered in ash and black blood sing for joy. What better end for a fortress of Paladins? Should she rest in her laurels and rot till not a stone from her original makers rested on her foundations? No, a fortress was meant as a shield for her people for the Kingdom of Heaven.

“One last time my brothers!” Xavos whipped his great sword upon a patch of grass that by miraculous design was pure from the scourge and ash marks that marred the entire wall of the courtyard just in front of the keep. The three levels of walls were breached right up to the center of the castle’s heart. The many spires and roofs designed to hold back the legions of winged wraiths and undead monstrosities nearly shattered, but not broken much like her defenders.

“We sacrifice with praise on our lips! Let the dead hear our battle hymns before they meet their end, for the trap is set, and we will be the bait!” Bouncing crystals of light jumped across the island as the magic machines in her depths strained under the abuse of ceaseless battles that had led to this final hold at the end of the world. Voices could be heard from deep within the cracks coming from the engineers and mages operating the weapons of war beneath the walls of the flying isle. They sang like the acolytes knowing well the island went to her final purpose. Only true believers were left on the flying tool Heaven’s judgement. All others had been left in sanctuary. The sound was truly the most beautiful hymn Xavos could ask to hear on this the last day of his life. The true last stand of Arch Paladin Xavos. The last Paladin of Kyathane.

“My Lord Paladin!” Screamed a much alarmed Bolane, but before another word could leave the young man’s mouth as he stared with his far glasses back toward sanctuary the reason for the young man’s alarm consumed him. In those brief moments before oblivion swallowed him Xavos had several revelations. The first was they were not under attack from the undead who were still gathering and swarming around the Lich King of Carn’s soaring spire.

No, the maker of their demise was the Blessed Stasis Field which would hold the land out of time and space. An impenetrable wall that would consume even the undead and freeze their souls for as long as the field remained. The mages and engineers had tested the device thoroughly. The living could not be sensed through it by the undead, and neither could anything living or dead, whether corporeal or physical, pass. So the Liches would assume the living had fled, or destroyed themselves and a part of the world in the process. A final act of guile to save the races of light from the hordes. But they had deployed the stasis early.

The Ark of Xarmon was still in the field. The arch Paladin could see this even without spyglasses. Why had the kings and mages in the grandfleet acted before the last paladin island had perished or fled? The revelation confirmed Xavos’ dark thoughts. They were betrayed, and they were willing to send the last of the sea dwarves to oblivion to be sure no Paladins attempted to flee. So his choice mattered little, and yet he had picked wisely. That was his final thought as the shimmering rushing clouds of the Blessed Stasis Field consumed the last of the Paladins of Kyathane in raging winds and nothingness.

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