As Alyrin strode from the chamber proudly, a white queen suddenly dyed black, Speare forced himself to suppress a smile that could have cracked his already weakened prison. The arrow had been spent, and the die cast.
Fate still remained firmly on his side, and that alone would guide events in their necessary direction. Alyrin Delling would indeed kill Seven Kharaos, and with his death, humanity would so follow -- their intolerable hubris purged at last, the slaves who had cast off the yoke of Heaven judged and found wanting and punished.
And then, only when humanity and their demonic supporters disappeared beyond the distant memories of far-reaching history -- a candle extinguished, a footnote written in smudged ink, could the Archangel Speare truly return beyond the Gates; to the comforting skies. To home, and to the dreams long abandoned on the winding road drawn out by his capricious companion; the entity both loved and cursed as Fate.