by Nesa Miller
“I had hoped our sweet Etain would come around to my way of thinking, see you for what you really are. How is it you invoke such loyalty from both women?”
“Love is something you will never understand.”
“You’ve forgotten what it means to be Krymerian, protecting useless Alamir parasites, lowering yourself to their level.” Midir lunged forward. “You give your power to a woman who has no need for it.” His tongue was sharp. “She will drain everything you are and leave you to rot.”
Dar blocked, accepting the words with a smile. “You are a contradiction. One minute, you fight to possess her; the next, you threaten her life. What does it matter to you?”
An austere glow lit in Midir’s eyes. “All our lives, everything has been for you. The legacy, the kingdom, the honor, and you lost it all.”
Dar pushed him back. “Our futures were taken from us by your thirst for revenge. What does any of it have to do with Etain?”
“I found her long before you became aware of the human realm or the Alamir. I watched her grow. I saw her potential. I engineered her initiation into the Alamir for the very power you refuse to harness for yourself. Control of such power requires a strength and finesse of which you have no concept.”
Dar moved toward his brother, his jaw firm in the knowledge of what he must do. “Whatever power she may have is hers. You will not take control of it.”
Midir advanced with equal confidence. “Come and die then.” He growled as he carried out the next attack, whipping the saber toward Dar's neck, thrusting low with the dagger. Dar barely had time to raise one blade and lower the other, pushing the dagger aside. Midir continued to pummel him, Dar deflecting as best he could, suffering several cuts.
“First blood is mine,” Midir crowed, sliding a finger down the blade for a taste of the red stain.
“Last blood counts for more,” Dar countered, pressing on with a cool head despite the sweat trickling down his back. He cut at Midir from impossible angles, blood stains telling on his shirt. Dar recognized the boiling anger in his brother and sought to exploit it. He leaned to the left, cutting back with a right thrust, his left close behind. Midir diverted the attack with a sweeping blow, grinning at Dar’s apparent mistake. His dagger struck through the opening toward Dar’s heart. As the blade came in, Dar cocked back his head then slammed into Midir’s nose before he could pierce his heart. The dagger and saber clanged against the floor. Midir yelled and grabbed his face, grimacing in pain as he stumbled back.
“Your hate weakens your ability,” Dar said, stepping forward.
“You haven’t won yet.”
“Brother, you lost a long time ago.”
Midir displayed a contemptuous smile, spun on his heels, dipping down to retrieve his blades, and took flight down a passageway. Dar was quick to pursue, leaving Etain alone.
Etain watched them disappear into the darkness, listening to their footsteps fade. She had listened to the exchange between the brothers, too stunned to interrupt.
The question for her was whether to follow or leave them to it. Her instincts reminded her of Midir’s constant lies. It was highly probable another ambush lay in wait for Dar, but would her presence help or would it only serve to distract him from what needed doing? She remembered the fight at the Laugharne shore. Midir had shown no mercy to either Faux or his brother. Given the chance, he intended to end Dar’s life in any way he could, which she could not allow.
Her decision made, she turned toward the dark tunnel they had run down just moments earlier. Hearing footsteps coming toward her, she paused. Could Midir have circled back? It was possible. Angered by the prospect of his plan to ambush Dar from behind, she turned, Nim raised, prepared to strike.
She froze.
It was not Midir…or Dar. Since becoming Alamir, she had seen many unusual beings, but this was not anything she had ever seen before. Her mind whirled, trying to make sense of what she saw. The breath caught in her throat and her head throbbed, making her light-headed. An hallucination was the only way she could explain this spectacle. She guessed it to be about six-two with eyes of black burning coals beneath a mane of pulsating flames. His skin had the sheen of fresh blood, but she soon realized that was not the case. The color was consistent and smooth with no apparent splatters that would indicate a recent killing. Well-formed muscles across a broad chest and shoulders tapered down into a set of painfully perfect abs. The muscles in his arms flexed as he sheathed the sword in his hand.
So, she thought, I’m not considered a threat.
Etain brought up her sword, aiming the point toward the abomination, knees soft, body alert to any sudden move. His burning gaze took her in from head to toe, leaving behind a sense of violation. Strange and threatening as he was, she held her ground, much to his amusement. One demon behind him made a move to pass the flame-headed leader. The red-skinned man’s arm shot up, dagger in hand, striking the demon in the midriff, followed by a brutal stab up just below the chin. The offender gurgled in surprise and fell. A miniscule cock of the leader’s head set the others into a retreat. He flashed a macabre smile of sharpened teeth, laughed, and took his leave. Etain’s eyes widened seeing the ridge along his back.
She blinked several times, keeping watch on the hole into which he had gone. Surely, that’s not the end of it. After several minutes, it became obvious she had been left alone. Letting out a breath, she sheathed her blade.
Why is he so familiar? She remembered the photograph in Midir’s album. What does he have to do with all this?
The echoes of swords clashing drifted through the tunnel, reminding her of another demon with a solitary thought in mind. Dar’s death. She ran her hands through her hair and stared into the darkness one last time to ensure no one was there. Satisfied she wouldn’t have to defend her flank, she turned and dashed down the tunnel that would take her to Dar.
What had been dark stillness exploded into motion at the shine of flashing blades. Ambushed by Midir, Dar was just able to twist back from the angle of the blow. However, he lost his footing and staggered forward. He felt a burn across his shoulder blades, followed by a wetness soaking into his shirt and running down his back. He turned, his back to the wall. Midir came at him with another furious attack, both knowing he had only moments before the shock wore off. Dar steadied himself quickly enough to defend the initial assault. Their blades locked. The brothers eyeballed one another, their faces only inches apart.
“Now you pay for your crimes, Midir.”
A wild, exhilarated look brightened Midir’s eyes, his lips curling into a perverse grin. He spat in Dar’s eyes.
The shock broke Dar’s concentration and he drew back. It was only a split second, but even that was too long. Dar jerked his head to the side, trying to clear his vision. Midir brought his blade down toward his head.
Etain exploded out of the darkness, jumping onto Midir’s back. She wrapped an arm around his neck, her talons extended, poised to strike. He stumbled. Using the momentum, he propelled backward into the wall.
Hearing the breath whoosh out of her, Dar wiped his eyes with his sleeve. “No, Etain!”
Before she could recover, Midir dropped his blade and grabbed the dagger in his belt. With a twisted grin, his mad and fevered eyes burned into those of his brother. Considerably stronger than his attacker, he pulled her arm down from his neck. In a flash, the dagger stabbed into the blue leather-clad arm and deep into the white skin beneath, slicing her from elbow to wrist. Blood sprayed over his face.
“No!” Dar screamed.
Midir laughed. “Mores the pity. We could have ruled the world.”
Dar’s next move came more from instinct than calculation. Dropping his blades, he tucked his foot under him, pushed against the wall and lunged. At the same time, he spoke healing words he hoped she would understand. “Mo chuisle! Beannaigh an fhuil gur féidir do sheirbhíseach a chur ar ais. Líon isteach an soitheach leis an saol, a thabhairt ar ais chugam.”
Dar flung one
foot behind Midir’s ankle, pulling him away from Etain, her blood spurting with every heartbeat. “Líon isteach cuid soitheach leis an saol, thabhairt ar ais chugam!”
Midir toppled to the floor, losing his dagger in the process, but had enough forethought to twist and force Dar beneath him. “You can’t save her.”
Dar forced himself to focus on his brother rather than Etain. “Either way, she will be free of you.” The dagger inches away, the men grappled, neither able to make purchase. Swinging out, Dar punched his brother in the face, giving himself the advantage he needed. Dagger in hand, Dar drove the tip into his brother’s ribs, scraping past bone, straight into the black heart.
Midir’s eyes widened for a brief moment. Flashing a bloody smile, he said, “Death is not the end for us, brother. As long as you live…” He grimaced, trying to catch a breath. “I will be with you.” Dar watched the green eyes glaze over as Midir exhaled his last breath.
“May you finally find peace.”
Dar pushed him away and rolled to his feet. Midir’s dark spirit rose from the broken form, lingering, as though saying farewell to its former vessel, then circled the brother of light, in wait of his quiet invitation. With wings fanned wall to wall, Dar breathed in the ethereal remains of his dark half. Waged in an eternal way, the slithering darkness moved throughout his body, clashing with the light flowing within his veins. His body vibrated with the rise and fall of flesh where the two engaged. His eyes rolled and his head jerked back, a painful howl coursing throughout the passageways.
White talons faded in and out, slowly changing into the hands of his Krymerian form. The final step of his metamorphosis stretched his height to eight feet. His transformation complete, a pure white light shot from his eyes, disintegrating Midir’s body. Dar collapsed to the floor on hands and knees, gasping for air.
A soft moan from the darkness brought him back to his senses. “Etain.” He fumbled his way to her. As gently as possible, he rolled her over and ripped away the leather, exposing the nasty gash.
“I…heard…the…words,” she whispered and licked her lips. “And…I…remembered…” Her eyes closed.
“You did well, milady.”
Although the healing chant had saved her life, she wasn’t strong enough to complete the process. He cut into his arm with a single talon and shared his blood with this precious woman, whispering the words he’d screamed to her only moments ago. “You will not die this day. We have a life to live together.”
Her body reacted in a way he never expected. The bare skin of her wings had grown snow white crimson tipped feathers. Her height grew to seven feet tall. Ice blue eyes fluttered open as her hair returned to luscious silver.
“Dar?” Her voice was little more than a croak. “Is that you?”
“Aye, mo chuisle,” he said, awestruck by her altered state, but oblivious to his own.
“You’re okay?”
“Aye.”
She clutched at him. “Midir…”
“You need never fear him again. He is dead.”
“I wanted to be the hero,” she said, relaxing in his arms. “To be your savior, like you’ve been for me so many times. I’m sorry-”
He placed a finger to her lips. “My precious lady, you are my hero. Although you may not see it, you have saved me on countless occasions. I am forever indebted to you.”
Her look of doubt turned to concern. “You look different,” she said, touching his face. “Your eyes…and hair. What’s happened?”
He looked himself over, noting the change in his wings. From the corner of his eye, he saw the strands of blonde hair. “I have become the true High Lord of Kaos.” He appraised the changes in her. “And you are my High Lady of Kaos.”
“High Lady?”
He helped her sit up. “I am as surprised as you. I knew things would change with Midir’s death, but not to this degree, or that it would affect you, as well. Together, we will restore a race as old as time.”
“Surprised is putting it mildly.” She disentangled herself from his arms. “Thank you for the save.” She noticed the change in her own wings, ruffling the feathers. “Life with you is certainly interesting. It’ll take some getting used to.” She gave him a sideways glance. “As for restoring a race, well… We’ll have a nice long chat…later.”
“I know this is overwhelming. You go ahead to Inferno’s, put a smile on Spirit’s face. She’s not had an easy time of it, believing you dead. There are things I need to finish here.” He helped her to her feet.
Her gaze fell on the pile of ashes. “Midir?”
He lifted her chin. “Go back to Laugharne. I give you my word. I will not be long.”
“I will be waiting, my love.” She held his gaze for a long, loving moment, then ran a hand through her hair, biting her bottom lip.
“What’s wrong?”
“I have no idea where we are. Give me a boost?”
“Apologies, mo chuisle.” He opened a portal with the wave of a hand. Placing a soft kiss on his lips, she stepped through and was gone.
Etain’s kiss warm on his lips, Dar returned to Midir’s ashes. The anger and hate still burned in Dar’s heart, but with his passing, the edges began to soften. He knew they would eventually fade into nothing more than distant memories. In all the time he had planned, schemed, and fought for this day, it had been his belief that were he fortunate enough to be the victor in this bizarre battle, he would feel a sense of satisfaction, of accomplishment.
I thought I would feel whole again. I told Etain we were. I believe we are, but saying the words are not the same as feeling it in your bones.
Strangely enough, he felt a loss, as though something were missing. It made no sense to him. From the moment the priests gave him breath as a separate entity, he and Midir had been at odds. Never did they agree on anything.
He tormented me his entire life. Yet I mourn his passing.
Midir had shown Dar how a life lived in jealousy, coveting things not meant for him, could turn an already black heart into a lifeless, loveless force of pure evil. Now that his essence had reunited with Dar’s, he prayed he would not repeat his mistakes.
A magical incantation opened a portal to his home realm, Krymeria. He laid his brother’s ashes to rest in the rich Krymerian soil away from the VonNeshta mausoleum. There were no special honors. The lightweight saber, so recently wielded with every intention of ending his brother’s life, became his headstone.
Dar wished him Godspeed on his way to whatever afterlife awaited him, hoping he would find peace. There were no regrets for the taking of his life. Dar’s only regret was that he had lost yet another member of his family, a fellow Krymerian, a brother. Dar VonNeshta had truly become the last of his kind.
Dar and Etain survived his dark brother, Midir.
Or so they thought…
DreamReaper
Blood of Kaos Series Book II
Coming Winter 2018
About the Author
After marrying her special someone, Nesa decided life was too short to spend it all in just one place. Instead of him moving to Texas (her home), Nesa moved to Manchester, England (his home). Since then life has been an adventure and has had a positive influence on her and her writing.
The things you learn when you experience another culture!
Nesa is a "learn as you go" kind of gal, which can be challenging, especially when it comes to writing. Although it took a backseat to raising her three children, and work, the desire to write never died. Now that her kids are grown, she can indulge in her fantastical stories.
You can find Nesa Miller here:
Nesa’s website
The Alamir
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