by N. Saraven
“Wha—?” gasped the dark mage and started running for the thing. He could not care less about who followed him, or which of his companions were still around. He wanted answers immediately.
When he reached the crystal, he skidded to a halt even more amazed, as he saw all four Gods there as well. They stood majestic and tall, glancing at the gorgeous crystal before them. The elven stepped forwards to see why.
And then he understood.
In the middle of the huge crystal was Neila—imprisoned in that perfectly clear, strange ore. Her face finally seemed solemn and peaceful.
Halgor fell to his knees, desperate and aching. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he looked at Neila in her grave.
“She is not dead.” Setal broke the silence quietly, which made the elven turn to him.
“What did you say?” he whispered disbelievingly as he eyed the God.
All of the Creators seemed sorry beyond reason. Yet they also seemed to be reluctant to talk, as if they would avoid answering if they could.
“Neila is still alive, only imprisoned. She made this crystal from the rampaging powers which she created and let loose,” explained Setal silently.
Halgor obviously did not understand, demanding answers angrily.
“You would not understand how this could happen, so I will not bore you,” replied Setal, looking everywhere but at the mage. “You only need to know that that crystal is made from pure energy. And that she is still alive.”
“Can we break her out?” asked Halgor, which made the Gods glance at each other worriedly.
“If she decides to free herself,” rumbled Yverion.
“Can she hear me? Or see? Is she aware of the outside world?” the elven wanted to know impatiently.
But the Guardian of Seas only swayed his head disapprovingly. Finally Arisha gave an answer, after the mage did not drop the matter. But they seemed … unsure or worried somehow.
“She can know about everything she wants to know. But no outsider can break these crystals apart. Only she can decide to return to the world. Nobody else can make it so.”
Halgor became more and more angry with these good-for-nothing answers, and because the Creators seemingly would do nothing about the happenings. But when he said this to their eyes, they just sighed and swayed their heads slowly. Neither of them replied anything about the mage’s accusations.
The dark elven became filled with incredible pain at this. But before he could say or do anything else, suddenly Enargit and Elnor with his dragon companion arrived.
The Gods now waved goodbye and disappeared. They prevented any more questions with their departure, leaving the companions stunned and in pulsing pain. They all just stared at Neila, who seemed to be just sleeping—in utter peace. It looked as if she would open her eyes right away, if they would knock on the crystal.
Then Halgor burst out without a warning. He ordered everybody to go away and leave him alone, shouting angrily. His eyes flared with such strong fury that not even Enargit argued.
The shadow Leader guided the others away—to search for Veilon, who was last seen falling from the Overlord’s back.
Enargit glanced around, baffled, in the air. What used to be a thick, beautiful forest had turned into pure rubble, a tortured battlefield. He would not have believed it if he had not seen it with his own eyes, what Raw Power could do, shattering and deforming everything. And even surviving it, he could hardly believe. Yet the broken lands proved that everything was true and just as terrible.
Furthermore, there stood the crystal, as the final proof. The huge thing sparkled gorgeously in the sunlight in the middle of the clearance. In any other situation, even the great Leader would be touched by its beauty. But now he just sighed in sorrow, trying to focus on the task at hand.
As he looked around, the dragon spotted Nightfang on the ground, so he started to descend. When he landed, he saw the paragon lying on the ground, obviously injured. Nightfang did everything in his power to keep him alive until somebody came, yet it was almost too late.
“How is he?” asked Enargit as he measured the hoarsely panting kobold.
Veilon’s eyes were closed, but when he heard the dragon, he cracked them open. His gaze, however, seemed feverish. His pale skin had a faint blush. Without help, he would certainly die shortly.
“His injury did not kill him, but I had my limits; I could not do more.” Nightfang swayed his head.
The Leader held out one of his paws just above the Ruler’s body, closed his eyes, and concentrated. But when his energies tried to enter the kobold’s body, a strange spike of force struck out from it. When the two different powers collided, they became little crystal-fractures, falling on the ground.
The shadow dragon frowned as he picked a shard up. Then he understood.
“We cannot do anything!” he cried out desperately. “Neila’s twisted powers are still in him, which will not let mine in. By the Gods … I cannot believe that this will be the End for him. They should do something, the Creators, after they let the situation advance so far …”
His desperation turned into fury. His eyes smouldered so angrily, it made Nightfang step back.
Abruptly, a greenish-blue spiral of foams appeared in the air beside the companions, as if an answer. The strange spectral then slowly took a strong man’s form, becoming Yverion. The companions stared at the appearing God with utter astonishment. Even Veilon seemed to react to his presence.
“The future …” whispered the paragon as he looked up. His fading eyes regarded only the approaching God, who knelt beside him, looking down at him curiously.
“The future … changes … always changing … still remains the same … I understand now … how … it … can … be …” he panted faintly. Sweat beaded his forehead. He had little time left.
“Yes, you finally do.” Yverion nodded with a sad smile.
The Guardian closed his eyes, concentrating, as he held out his hand above the paragon’s body. At this, small lightnings emerged from the kobold, covering him like a net, then shattered into many little crystal-shards. They fell on the ground silently. After all non-wanted energy left his body, Yverion healed Veilon with ease.
The paragon took a deep breath, opening his eyes, then sat up. He glanced at the Guardian in awe mixed with disbelief, as if he were not sure what had just happened. He even tapped around his body, searching for the wound.
He whispered a ‘but why?’ question without even realising it. The God of Seas smiled at him as he stood up.
“Because you are my Chosen One. You caught my attention a long time ago, although this made it official. I only waited for the moment when you finally understood.”
Veilon’s eyes rounded, then his gaze fell. He smiled as if he had just had a secret conversation with the Creator, of which nobody knew anything. Yverion nodded again, then disappeared without a word.
The paragon then turned to Enargit.
“The world is still here, so I assume you managed to stop Neila. Would you tell me what happened?”
Enargit exchanged worried glances with Elnor beside him, avoiding the answer. However, a little nudging and a few harsh words untangled the dragon’s tongue, who then solemnly told the story.
Veilon’s eyes widened as he listened, then became angry. He could not say anything at first; the astonishment completely took his words away. He just stared at the dragon, not even knowing what he was feeling exactly.
He wanted to wake up now from this obvious nightmare.
Then the paragon jumped to his feet, wanting to go to the crystal immediately. However, the shadow Leader held him back. The dragon’s firm yet calm voice finally got through the kobold’s anger and pain.
He understood how Veilon felt, he said, but at the moment, nobody could do anything.
Enargit talked further, musing out loud about the situation.
If Neila decided to make herself disappear from the world for a while, she must have had a very good reason to do so. She was n
ever weak, but even she must have had her limits. And even though it hurt to admit, they had their part in this too.
So now they must respect her wish and go on without her for the time being. After all, Life, the World will not stop, not even after something like this. The Future did not disappear, he said to the others, only took a different direction. They needed to let Neila in peace and ought to do whatever was in their power to create a world where she would want to return.
Because she would, Enargit was sure of that. Even if in his heart he knew, whenever this time might be, it would certainly not be the Age of Peace. After all, the Balance had broken—the Harmony, which was created by the Four Creators, and what became the Four Chosen Ones’ task to keep it up in the mortal world.
But as a consequence of Neila’s disappearance, it had broken. It needed to be established again; however, at the right time, in the right way.
Enargit sighed deeply. His heart became heavy with grief.
Then and there he just could not muse upon what might be that force that would make Neila break her prison. What would prove to be a serious enough reason for Setal’s Chosen One to free herself. When she would step into the middle of the happenings, as she always did, to guide the world by her hands.
As will all of the Chosen Ones.
☽ END OF THE FIRST BOOK OF “CHILDREN OF THE GODS” ☾
Afterword
Dear Reader,
If you enjoyed reading Light of the Dark, you might also be interested in reading my short stories, freely available on the saraven.net website. There you can find information about upcoming books too.
The adventures of the companions will continue in my next book, Shadow of the Dawn.
N. Saraven