Jalla tossed another chunk of meat onto the fire and sat back on her overturned log with a huff. She was never a fan of camping, but sometimes magic couldn't take you where you wanted to go. At times like this, you had to rely on yourself. She gnawed on her own piece of jerky as a shadowy figure manifested beside her and stared quizzically down at the fire, before addressing her with an accusatory tone.

"Why?" Jalla gave a small chuckle, and looked up at Ofnir as their proper form finished materializing. They sat down on the log next to her, wearing an expression of sorrow that was definitely not befitting of the being that she had bound into her service.

"It's a tradition in my homeland. We burn an offering of food for the gods when we take from the world's bounty." Ofnir scoffed and turned away from Jalla.

"Well I prefer my food unburnt, thank you very much. Plus, that's wasteful." Jalla gave a small tsk and tore off a chunk of her jerky, prodding the young god with it in her palm. They finally faced her again, picking it up and biting into it.

"It's not wasteful, it's respectful. You got it from nature, it's only fair to give a little back." Ofnir nodded thoughtfully, and to Jalla's surprise they tore off a small piece of their jerky and cast it into the fire. Noticing Jalla's gaze, Ofnir shrugged.

"Just being respectful. One god to another."

Orion found himself standing in a field of flowers that stretched out forever, with only an enormous castle of pure platinum standing to break up the landscape. Heaven itself- the eternal resting place of good natured souls. The palace itself was the hall of heroes and home of Bahamut, where the legends and heroes of the world enjoyed an eternal feast in their honor. Instead of participating, however, Orion was arguing with the grim-looking knight guarding the door.

"I was a tyrant! I killed millions!" Orion threw his arms up in protest, pacing back and forth before the Knight. The Knight spoke plainly, without moving.

"You protected more. Your inventions help many." Orion paused, and cackled, pointing a finger at the Knight.

"The greater good is a sham! I knew that even as I said it! There is no excuse for my actions. No hell hot enough." The Knight groaned softly, and waved a hand. A projection of light manifested between them, depicting a scale.

"All are judged at the moment of their death. Their deeds are counted, their impact measured." As the Knight spoke, black coins began to stack on one side of the scale.

"Murder. Kidnapping. Torture. Your evil deeds were many indeed, and if I were permitted to I would strike you down again and again... and yet..." On the other side, white coins began to stack higher and higher until barely, just barely, the light side outweighed the dark.

"Rules are rules. You were deemed worthy." Orion watched with incredulity, before folding his arms dismissively. Fine, he supposed he couldn't argue with that, but it left one major question unanswered.

"But where is Kolm?"

Kolm was in hell. His own personal afterlife of torture. He knew this would be his end, and had accepted it. Even if his fight against Orion was just, Kolm had committed too many missteps. Too many mistakes and hasty acts that would be mere trifles on their own, but added up. Kolm's punishment was simple and elegant.

He marched over the hill and stood over a small village below, clad in armor and bearing his sword. The troops behind him readied their weapons and awaited his call. At the time, Kolm didn't know that in the village below, his family waited. They had been taken by Orion. Perhaps Kolm could have saved them if he chose to simply raid the town, or send a diplomat. But no. He didn't. And Kolm would watch himself raise his hands to the sky, calling down a rain of fire upon the village that painted the sky and the land black with hatred, over and over and over again. Forever. As he killed his family and countless innocents again, Kolm closed his eyes and sighed.

He deserved it, after all. And no one was above punishment, not even a "Hero".