by JW Baccaro
Darshun felt—blown away, to say the least, especially such words coming from Nayland, a one-time adversary. It's what he needed to hear. “I couldn’t have answered better, my friend. You and I have come a long way since this war began, or shall I say, since we were brought into the war. Now as the hour grows darkest we stand together. No matter what happens tomorrow, I am glad for this moment.”
“I too, am rejoiced in coming to know you. In the beginning, I sought vengeance, but you opened my eyes to the truth, and so did your father. The courage both of you displayed—the strength pouring out of your bodies, and yet neither of you—especially you are never quick to harm the most fragile of creatures. You have a big heart, Darshun. For that, I am ever grateful to fall under your wing as my Guardian. Tomorrow may bring death, but my heart has never been such at ease, such at peace. I’m even a little excited to do battle against the heathens at sunrise."
"A sign of a true Nasharin," Darshun noted with a smile.
Nayland looked to him, eyes more stern or serious than ever. "You also, are a true Nasharin, as your father had been."
“My father—I miss him dearly. Besides Seth Caelen, Mirabel was all I ever had. Sitting up here thinking of the past, you know Nayland, I've realized my life has been one big journey. Since my seventh birthday, when Mirabel took me into the wilderness to begin Nasharin training, event after event has taken place. Once we returned to Loreladia, five years later, no more than one day had passed when we ventured back into the forests again to train five more years, because of the Dream Assassin, who instead of killing me, awakened my element of fire. Then after returning to Loreladia yet again,"—he glanced down touching his necklace—"this whole ordeal with the Golden Crystal began, setting me out on another series of events leading up to this very moment. But until now, my father had been with me nearly every step of the way. I could always turn to him for help, words of encouragement—words of wisdom. That ended earlier this afternoon. If I am to become Guardian for a thousand years, if that is a literal meaning, then that means the journey will still continue. I know I am not to have a life, not like anyone else. And I've made peace with that path. If it is my calling, so be it. I only wish a few things could've been different, Mirabel for one being alive, long enough to see old age." He let out a long sigh.
"I understand the pain of losing a father. Knowing Magnus is alive now does not cause me to forget the feelings, because for the longest time I stood convinced he was dead. It’s painful, especially if you were close to him, and I know you were to Mirabel. I didn’t know him for very long, but I can tell you this, seeing the way he was in person, listening to his words of wisdom, and learning about his past heroic deeds, I am convinced he was one of the greatest warriors among not only Nasharins, but all races who have ever lived.”
“Thank you Nayland. That complement warms my heart indeed.”
Nayland curved his lips into a pleasant smile, which to Darshun still looked strange because it was unorthodox of him.
He’d evidently changed, especially since the death of Mirabel. Nayland would never admit this, his heart sank immensely when seeing the look on Darshun's face as he strolled out of the mountain with Mirabel's dead body draped across his arms. He too wasn't ready for such a loss, and in a way, caused him to evolve in mind and attitude, holding a deep respect for Darshun and Mirabel. What a battle they must have had against Melgothris. He took a final puff of his pipe.
“I’m not returning in the morning,” Darshun informed him. “I am going to the Unholy Altar alone. I cannot risk death for anyone else except myself."
“I guessed this; another reason I wanted to see you tonight, for one last fellowship before whatever tomorrow brings.”
“I suspect the others will disapprove, but that can’t be helped. It is my choice. I know the way; Olchemy’s directions remain fresh in my mind. Besides, he’ll be needed at the battle tomorrow. He knows this.”
“The Wizard's Dragon Uriel flew in a short time ago and brought Baruch back to Avshalum; or at least close enough to the city where it would take little time getting there by tunnel. Finding out about the battle tomorrow Baruch's gathering the Dwarven army and promises to return mid-morning now that the short cuts through the land are no longer guarded by Melgothris.”
“I know. I saw them fly away a little while ago. I figured that’s where they were going. Tomorrow’s battle may prove to be the greatest battle of all.”
“And I don’t plan on losing, no matter how outnumbered we are. Numbers do not win a battle.” He stood up, preparing to leave. “Then I shall see you tomorrow evening, at dusk when all is said and done. Abidan be with you.”
“And also with you Nayland Winveil,” Darshun said. They shook hands. "Thanks for the smoke, I enjoyed it."
Giving a quick nod, Nayland turned around and began his walk back down the hill, disappearing in a drift of snow.
Then Darshun found a spot to rest, under a ridiculously large and odd-shaped boulder that helped stable the increasing winds up here. He closed his eyes and covered his face with the hood of his cloak. He forgot about the dangers ahead of him and relaxed, dwelling back into past and all the good times he experienced with his father, Uncle Seth, and his friends. He believed it would be the last time he would remember them; sleep was just minutes away.
~~****~~
Filled with memories from a long harsh winter, the rising sun on a mid-April morning was most indeed welcomed with open arms. The singing of mockingbirds, cardinals and bluebirds, even the hammering of a few woodpeckers delighted his heart. Beautiful blooming lavender irises, red and yellow tulips—petals stretching toward the light—dark blue windflowers and cherry tree blossoms were all omitting such pleasing fragrances carried by a warm breeze.
Standing before an open window one story above ground Darshun enjoyed the beginnings of spring. He inhaled the air as the wind caressed him, so it seemed. Then someone whispered his name into his ear softly. He turned around and saw no one but found himself in a room he’d never seen before. It was circular, having smoothly finished hardwood flooring. The walls and ceiling were a pleasant sky blue, there was a large bed with a canopy frame suspended from the ceiling where white drapes fell covering the sides and rear of the bed, and a few rocking chairs lay about. Then the large brown door stationed east slowly opened and in walked two individuals, Kelarin and–himself?
Kelarin wore a long turquoise dress, fitted nicely around her body and flowing out to the ground, simple yet stunning; and her hair was up, styled and stationed by a jeweled hairpin.
Darshun however, wore nothing but a loose pair of dark blue breeches suspended by a black leather belt around the waist. Standing close he retrieved Kelarin's hairpin, having the long honey-brown mane fall straight, matching his own. He took her hand.
Being witness to this, that voice…the one Darshun can only ever remember in dreams, whispered into his ear yet again, “Darshun.”
He turned aside and there she was, standing at the window next to him, as if she drifted in by the spring breeze. As always, she was beautifully garmented in white with her dark hair swaying and icy blue eyes shining. But other than get captured by her allurement, this time he countered with question, carrying with it a tone of anger. “So on what may be my last evening—you come here to mock?”
A little startled by his reaction she stepped away.
He sighed. "Forgive me, mystery woman. It's just, my heart weighs heavy this hour, more than usual. I lost a father."
"I know," she spoke softly, touching his face.
He faced her, staring at her hard. "Who are you? And why is it I can only remember you in my dreams?"
She looked away.
"Not going to answer huh? Then at least tell me this, why do you show the woman I love and a version of myself together, in each other's arms, as if wedded? No event has taken place. Is it to calm me, ease my spirit in these hours of darkness? Why bother? The memories will be wiped clean once I awake. Won't they?" Then
he remembered what the mystery woman had told him long ago, about her gifts; his mood lightened. In fact, he became overly excited. “Wait a minute—I understand, this is the future! That's what you were showing me. Kelarin and I are going to be together. She's not going to die; everything's going to be all right, is it not? Wondrous! Spectacular!” He got on his knees before her, his expression like an excited child's. “Apologies, mysterious woman, I was not aware.”
The woman’s face looked to be overwhelmed with grief.
Darshun stood back up, ever curious.
She stared long into his eyes before speaking. "No Darshun. What you're seeing is a possible future. The actual future I do not know. No one knows."
"I gathered that, but there's still a chance of saving her."
Sighing, she glanced over at ‘the Darshun and Kelarin of possibility’ who were slowly dancing around the room. Her eyes drew tears.
"Lady, what is wrong with you?"
She turned to him, stepping closer.
From the look in her eye, Darshun felt uneasy. She gave a look he'd never seen, and difficult to describe. Only thing he could tell was that she desired something important from him, something she may take by force.
"Close your eyes," she said; though judging from her tone it sounded more like a command.
He obeyed, and felt her breath upon his face. Dizziness set in, to even stand proved a challenge. Feeling like he might faint, she took his hand and suddenly he awakened—not to reality, but into the Darshun of possibility he’d just been watching. Illogically speaking, he was himself in a possible future, dancing with Kelarin. The mystery lady vanished, and no other remained in the room.
Rather than fight this magic, he submitted, in fact, he wanted to enjoy it. Coming to a halt, they broke the dance, gazing at one another, each captured by the other's love.
Kelarin's smile became enough to warm the coldest sea, to alight the darkest wasteland.
He would protect her always; let no harm befall her. She knew this.
Lips drifted closer, hearts beat faster; they kissed, long, sensual, pleasing to the soul. He swooped up her body into his arms and carried her to the bed, the marriage bed, undefiled. Yes, that night was their wedding night, Darshun knew. And as they made love, he understood—as he had always suspected what being married meant—two individuals, bound together not by force, or even mere lust, but by choice. A companionship for the good moments in life and also the bad, sharing one another's sufferings, willing to take on death. To be fruitful, bringing their own into the world, raising them in accordance to the Light. From the rising to the setting of the sun, to the ends of the earth, always and forever they shall be…Together as one.
After the lovemaking finished they lay in bed together, Kelarin snuggled up to Darshun, head atop his chest, arms around her, and holding hands. His thoughts of the world, the war, Abaddon, even this being a dream faded. The only thing real was his wife, Kelarin Luthais.
As all dreams come to an end, so did this one, reality shifted and he found himself standing in front of the Enchanted Pond, Kelarin's favorite place and where they’d had lovely conversation which seemed like eons ago. The sun stood shining, and the temperature hot; probably a mid-summer day, and across the pond stood the mysterious lady in white, whom Darshun grew tired of. Storming around the pond, he shouted aloud, "Why did you do that to me? Why? WHY?"
In silent tears, she couldn't answer.
"What kind of being are you woman, to inflict such thoughts in one's mind?"
"Did you not like it?" She kept her head down, submissively.
Calming down in tone, he answered, "It proved to be the most beautiful, magnificent time of my life. My heart will forever hold the moments for as long as I live.” His voice suddenly hardened. “But it wasn't real nor may never be real, since the future is unwritten. I may die tomorrow. The world may perish. Even worse, she may die! And I couldn't take the heartache—"
The lady fell to her knees, and began weeping aloud.
Darshun widened his eyes, and hadn't a clue what brought such dread over this woman's soul. Was it something he just said? Perhaps his anger? Kneeling down, he gently touched her shoulder. "My lady, what hardships lay upon your spirit which causes one as yourself to mourn so?"
Continuing to shed tears, she raised her face; eyes glossy, cheeks red. "Oh Darshun, how I wish it would be true. Had I the power to do so, I'd selfishly keep us in that moment in time forever. Yet I do not."
"Hold on, what do you mean by 'us?' I was with the daughter of Lord Athanasius of Ashhaven, Kelarin."
They both remained silent, caught in the other's gaze. Then it hit him. This mysterious lady who’d first come into his dreams at Castle Volborg, redeeming his spirit, then a second time while in Ashhaven, bringing him to see the love his parents had for one another. Then finally this third time, where somehow she cast him into the body of himself years into the future, to make love with the woman he loves, on their wedding night. This woman of mystery was no other than Kelarin herself, as she always reminded him of Kelarin; he knew it, and she knew that he knew it.
"It's you! Kelarin!" He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tight. "I can't believe it! It's been you this whole time! Oh, let me look at you!" He cupped her face with his hands, staring into those beautiful gray blue eyes.
Finally, a smile rose on her lips. "Yes Darshun. I've wanted to tell you for so long, but the elvish masters of ancient times always warned never to use Timesight for personal use, as it could lead to disaster. Neither should I have manipulated the future. You see, since those moments have not yet come to pass, but exist among another mystic realm in time, I was able to use them to my advantage. ‘Possession’ you might call it, entering into entities which strangely exist and do not exist, depending on the paths to be taken in the present."
The look across Darshun's face was clearly one of confusion.
"I cannot explain the magic in terms to be understood. It's mine to know, and a rare magic indeed."
"So, why did you go against the masters' advice?"
"To share the experience with the Nasharin I love. It's not the first I've ignored such warnings either. Back in Ashhaven, when I killed that pheasant to cook for you, I stepped into the future as well, hunting down the creature just as I did in the present, because I am not a huntress. I am a healer. And believe it or not, it was the hardest thing I have ever done. The animals of this earth hold a special place in my heart, never has it entered my mind to take their lives. So to prepare the food you cherish I needed to get the 'feel' of killing in case I couldn't carry it out."
Darshun sighed. "I could've gone without you know."
“I know that.” She giggled. “But your love for food, especially meat, makes you overwhelmed with joy. I wanted to make you happy; therefore I forced myself to learn the experience in order to have the strength to do it in reality."
"Still, why the moment between us? If it is to be true, possibly, why not wait? Do you not trust that I will save the earth?"
"I trust you. It's just—just—" Once again, tears began to fill her eyes. She bowed her head.
Darshun placed a finger under her chin and slowly lifted to see her face. "Kelarin, what?"
"I'm going to die."
Darshun smirked, though it was more out of fear than laughter. "I promise that won't happen—"
"I've looked into all possible paths that are set to happen. From the events already taken place, by decisions some have made, there are only two possibilities left. You die and the Dark wins, or you are victorious but—I am not to be in your future."
"What about what you just showed me?”
“That was the last time I could ever show it. Were I to try now, it would be nothing except a dark, empty void.”
“Impossible! Try it once more. Bring us back to that moment."
“I can’t, just minutes ago, when both of us were there, I felt the moment slipping.”
“Then tell me what event changed i
t?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t the power to see all.”
“Perhaps it was your own fear and sorrow you were sensing.”
She shook her head.
“Kelarin listen to me, you are not going to die.”
“I've already seen it Darshun."
"Do you have the power to see every single event that is to transpire?"
"No, I do not."
"Then determination of who lives and who dies must be neglected. I see the point your elvish masters made regarding your gift of future events. By witnessing different moments, multiple interpretations can be made all of which may prove false. Stop looking into the future and making prejudgments. Have faith in my words that I promise you won't die—"
"Darshun—I am already upon the Altar."
He paused, taking in her meaning. “The Unholy Altar?”
"Yes. I’m asleep, under a spell set by Abaddon; my body is marked with demonic signs and symbols written in blood, and strapped to the Unholy Altar. Abaddon is here too, awaiting the proper time for the sacrifice. Even if you were to wake now, you would never make it here on time to stop him, not from your location."
Darshun stepped back a few paces, looking down to the grass, the green blades waving to and fro in the wind. What could be said? What could be done? The one who has seen it just told him, and judging from the fact that her body was already in preparation upon the despicable Altar, it seemed evident she would die. He fell to his knees and thought he might vomit.
Kelarin knelt beside him. "Forgive me. I never planned to tell you this."