Chapter 106 The Original Sin
"That is impossible," Mara said, but her voice lacked conviction, because impossible was becoming increasingly meaningless word in her life. "I am the only Mara, I am original, I am first to carry these specific fragments. You cannot be me from before because there was no before for me with fragments."
The First Mara smiled, expression that was familiar yet alien, Mara's smile but carrying weight of uncounted centuries, knowledge of impossible truths, certainty of someone who had literally done everything before. "You misunderstand, young one, you confuse linearity for totality, you think time moves in single direction. I am not from your past, I am from your future, from timeline that already happened, from reality that already concluded. I am what you become if you keep carrying fragments, if you keep fighting impossible, if you keep surviving when you should die. I am you after ten thousand years, after countless wars, after losing everything that matters and deciding nothing matters except ending gods forever."
Mara felt her chest tighten, felt fear unlike anything she had experienced before, because this was not just powerful enemy, this was herself, this was what she might become, this was future she desperately wanted to avoid. "If you are me from future, if you are what I become, then you know I will never help you, I will never assist in remaking Oblivion, I will never agree that ending gods is worth destroying reality itself."
"Of course you will not agree now," the First Mara said patiently, like teacher explaining obvious truth to slow student. "You are young, idealistic, still believing love conquers all, still thinking compassion is strength. But time breaks everyone, young Mara, time takes everything you love, time proves that hope is just delusion we cling to while reality crushes us. You will learn, after Zevran dies, after Isla dies, after everyone you care about is gone and you are left alone with fragments that never die, never age, never stop being hungry. You will learn that gods are problem, that divine interference causes suffering, that only way to truly free mortals is to end gods permanently, absolutely, finally."
"I will never believe that," Mara said with certainty she forced herself to feel. "I will never become you, I will never lose myself so completely that I think destroying everything is solution to anything."
"You already are me," the First Mara said, and now her smile was sad, pitying, the expression of someone watching younger self make mistakes they knew would lead to suffering. "Every choice you make, I made, every battle you fight, I fought, every sacrifice you accept, I accepted. We are same person at different points in journey, and my existence proves your journey ends here, ends with becoming me, ends with accepting that love is weakness that must be abandoned if true change is to be achieved."
Zevran stepped forward, placing himself between Mara and her future self. "You are not her future, you are possibility she will avoid, you are warning of what not to become, you are proof that making different choices leads to different outcomes. And we will make different choices, we will fight different battles, we will become different people because we learn from your mistakes instead of repeating them."
The First Mara looked at Zevran with something that might have been fondness, might have been grief, might have been regret for loss experienced so long ago it barely registered as pain anymore. "I remember you, I remember loving you, I remember thinking you were forever. But forever is just word mortals use to describe things that last until they do not, and you did not last, Zevran, you died defending me from enemy I cannot even remember name of because he was just one threat among millions, just one battle among billions, just one loss among countless losses that broke me piece by piece until nothing remained except fragments and purpose."
"Then I will not die," Zevran said firmly. "I will survive, I will stay with her, I will prove your timeline is not inevitable, your future is not certain, your existence is not proof of anything except that bad choices lead to bad outcomes."
"Bold words from someone who has only lived decades," the First Mara said. "But I admire the conviction, I remember having it myself, I remember thinking love was strong enough to overcome anything. That memory is precious, is last piece of who I was before I became who I am, is reminder that once, impossibly, I was happy. Thank you for that, Zevran, thank you for being living reminder that some things mattered, that some people were worth loving, that some moments were worth experiencing even though they ended."
She turned back to Mara, expression hardening, sentiment fading, replaced by absolute determination. "But sentiment does not change facts, nostalgia does not prevent destiny, and your destiny is to become me. So I offer you choice, I give you option I never had: you can surrender now, you can let me collect fragments peacefully, you can avoid fighting yourself and just accept inevitable. Or you can fight, you can resist, you can make this difficult and painful and ultimately pointless because the outcome is same regardless. You become me eventually, the only question is how much you suffer before accepting it."
"I choose to fight," Mara said without hesitation. "I choose to resist, I choose to prove you wrong even if proving you wrong is impossible. Because I am not you, I am me, and I will stay me no matter how many versions of myself from terrible futures try to convince me otherwise."
"So be it," the First Mara said, raising her staff, the orb at its top pulsing with captured fragment that screamed silently, desperately, hungrily for release. "But understand this: I am not just what you become, I am what you are if you stopped holding back, if you stopped limiting yourself, if you stopped pretending fragments are prisoners instead of partners. I merged with Ash and Valdris completely, we became truly one, we are singular consciousness with combined power. That makes me stronger than you can imagine, faster than you can react, more dangerous than anything you have fought before. Fighting me is fighting yourself without restraint, without mercy, without hope of victory."
She attacked, and reality screamed.