by JW Baccaro
* * *
Standing above, gripping the sword, Talvenya prepared to end the battle. "Shall I crush your chest with my foot, or wallop off your pretty boy head?"
Then out of nowhere, Darshun’s power turned back on, his aura shinned and the burst of energy threw her back. He jumped up but showed no anger or tension. His breathing seemed steady, his face calm—with a little smile.
“Uugghh! I should have killed you when I had the chance!”
“Why did you not?” he asked. “I admit, those last few moves of yours gave you the upper hand. While I was in the air you could have split my body in two with your sword. Why the decline?”
At first, she gave no answer and turned her head away. “I guess my mind strayed. Foolish me.”
Darshun didn’t believe her. Through all the hate and darkness in this woman, traits he’d experienced first hand, there now appeared something—different about Talvenya. He saw it whenever he gazed into those violet eyes. They were not as he’d seen before, while captive at Castle Volborg seeming to look heartless, cold—no, these showed emotion beyond one’s self. “You…make a mistake?” he retorted. “I thought Goddesses were infallible?”
She smirked.
“You have made plenty of mistakes. One cost your son, a heathen far beyond yourself.”
That did it. Talvenya would not tolerate him any longer, especially after mocking her dead son! Clenching a fist while gripping her sword, flashing eyes, she turned on the orange glow of immense power, leapt into the air and drove down the sword, aiming for his skull.
Darshun rapidly moved out of the path and kicked Talvenya in the ribs, knocking her to the ground.
Almost immediately, she stood back up and charged again, swinging, jabbing, continuously remaining in her ultimate power, never releasing the glow—but she missed every time and seemed to be growing tired. “Why did you have to kill him!” she screamed, wielding another failed blow. “He was my son, my ONLY SON! I carried him in my womb, gave birth to him, nursed him with my breasts, raised him and you took him away. Why, why, WHY?!”
“I was left without a choice!” Darshun yelled back, dodging another attack.
“You did not have to kill him, you should have known.”
“I should have known? Talvenya, how many have you killed? Tell me, Goddess of ‘Mercy,’ one so concerned about her son only. You have slaughtered hundreds—thousands! Children just the same. Right before my eyes you turned a host of those no older than ten to stone—with a crude smile upon your face!”
“That was different. They were not mine.”
“So in the end, it all comes down to what a princess from Cyteria wants.”
She stopped as if a blade pierced her heart. Until now, she’d already forgotten that name. Her mind so fascinated with the new power, and so bent on revenge against Darshun, that the lady from her dream disappeared. Looking at him with eyes of sorrow, she asked, “How did you know where I’m from?”
“Because the one who rescued you from starvation told me. The Lord of Ashhaven, Athanasius.”
“He—knew?”
“Apparently.”
“I only discovered this from a dream recently, a lady in white came to me, brought me through time. But I thought—it was only a dream…”
For some reason the story of this ‘lady’ reminded Darshun of something, but he couldn’t quite put it together, like a forgotten dream of his own surfacing around in his sub-conscious. “I do not know who you are speaking of. What I know is that you were once a child of purity, taken by the Samaeltho and conformed to darkness against your will. At least that is what Athanasius believed.”
“Against my will, yes.” Memories of being raped came back, so did the loss of her son. “I have always hated my life, but I loved my son—”
“So why did you bring him up in darkness?”
“It is all I knew. Power was all I ever felt, all I ever was capable of feeling. Love abandoned me long ago. Except for Sicarius he loved me, cared for me, respected me when no one else would. I could always empty my burdens into his lap and he would listen and comfort. Not a soul knew—we kept it secret. Tanarokai would have called the both of us weak minded and ‘Light’ hearted.”
“You could have raised Sicarius in the Light. He might still be alive.”
“Would he?” she said mockingly. “The Light betrayed me Darshun. I wanted to serve the cause. I wanted to do the ‘right’ thing. Instead, I got delivered into the hands of the Samaeltho. Where was the Light that day? Nowhere to be found! The kind of horrors that those Elves did to me you could never understand. Never again would I trust in the Light, never again would I put my faith in such a weak falsehood of pity. I raised my son to be strong, to count on no one but himself. To kill what he pleased, to take what he desired. To let none control him. The stronger one is the less likely to fall to such horrors. But that does not matter anymore because you killed him!” She began turning on her ultimate power one again, this time hoping to make a kill. “So to answer the original question about what it comes down to well—strength! I kill whoever I want and it is my right.”
“No being has the right to take life in cold blood. Your entire mindset is bent on selfishness.”
“No, one thing that stands correct the Samaeltho taught me is that in this world the strong survive.” With all her skill, power, energy and speed she lunged, swinging her blade.
Then at the last second, Darshun’s fire became blue, he Ascended and clashed his sword against hers, stopping it in its tracks.
She stepped back, totally surprised.
“Then let us play by your rules Talvenya,” he agreed and with a solid firm fist, he punched her in the gut.
She crouched over, moaning in pain, dropped her sword and fell to her knees. The taste of salt filled her mouth from sweat and blood. That blow felt devastating, and she could not believe the power flowing out from Darshun— truly remarkable, breath taking. Gazing up, she caught his gaze, coldly bent toward her with sword in hand, blazing wildly with blue flames. Was this it? Had death finally come?
Darshun lifted the sword to end this battle once and for all.
“Darshun wait!” she pleaded, kneeling before him. “I beg of you, spare me. Spare my life.”
Outraged from her own lack of mercy he shouted, “Why should I spare you when you have never shown mercy to anyone?! Woman, you know not the meaning of mercy!!”
“I was wrong and you have showed that to me. You have opened my eyes to the truth. I admit I have done wickedness and committed such wretched sins worthy of death. But I was lost. I did not see the way. I was blinded, but now you have shown me my folly, and I repent.”
Deciding what to do, for it seemed strange for her to suddenly admit her wickedness. Perhaps sensing her death caused the change? Whatever the case, he lowered his weapon.
She stood up and came close to him.
He could feel her breath blowing against his face. It felt warm, pleasant as it’d been long ago when he knew her as Aurora.
“Oh, Darshun, do you remember how it once was? That first night we spent together and that first kiss?”
Her tone soothed him, lapsing him back into memories.
The Queen drew even closer now and her violet eyes flashed. “Yes my dear man, remember how beautiful it was? You loved me more than anything, anything. You desired me for your wife. Well, now you can have me. We can be together Darshun forever, you and I, as one. Yes, as one. Is that not what a true marriage is—one?”
The face of Aurora appeared once again, that beautiful smiling face bearing ocean blue eyes and strawberry blonde hair. Her voice echoed through his ears and the memories continued to flood his mind. He felt dizzy, restless and powerless—almost as if he was fading into another realm. Then he saw himself kissing her upon the mountain…her dancing for him. He felt the sensation of making love to her, as he had that night.
She began to sing the same seductive melody she used to hypnotize King Adeleric back i
n Zithel.
Darshun fell under her control.
Slowly, she picked up her sword.
Then out of nowhere, an old friend flew over them, screeching aloud, catching Darshun’s gaze—Asiel the silver eagle and above him he saw a ghost-like image of the one whom he used to call an uncle, Uncle Seth! Shining a greenish-white he soared with Asiel like an Angel. “Darshun, awaken!”Seth called out to him.
Instantly, he came back to his senses and stepped away from her just as she attempted to stab him through the heart.
In rage, she swung but he turned up his power and the force blew her away.
She went flying, tumbling and smashing face first to the ground. She could barely manage to stand and by the time she did, Darshun already stood beside her, sword in hand, ready to execute.
Having no power left there seemed nothing she could do. For the first time in her life, she’d been truly dominated by the Light—something she wasn’t used to, but cared not any longer. All hopes vanished, her army slain, Tanarokai dead, and the Nasharin she desperately wanted to kill, who’d killed her only son, defeated her in battle, about to claim her life as well. She recalled the dreams of Darshun, remembering his kindness and respect; such a strange happy-go-lucky individual. Honestly, his character always fascinated her. Never had she met one like him. So gentile, so timid, yet having the heart of a lion when it comes to protecting those he loves. She’d sensed this in him from the beginning before any magic played a part. If anyone would take her life this day, she felt glad it was he.
She accepted.
With tears streaming down both cheeks, recalling her miserable life, robbed of innocence, conformed to darkness, becoming a murderer, a blasphemer and the most terrible Queen to ever walk the earth, she got on her knees and lifted her head, so he could lop it off. She gazed once more into his eyes, those beautiful steel blues she’d always loved, especially now blazing with energy. "I’m ready, Darshun. I submit to you, my slayer. End my miserable unworthy existence, for it has gone on long enough," she spoke, closing her eyes, pushing out the last of her tears. "May your God give me the judgment I deserve."
A moment passed, followed by another and then another, until all moments became a long while—and still she lived. Curious for the delay, she peered up at him and felt shocked, he too was shedding tears!
Silently, with his head turned aside. His aura vanished and he withdrew the sword. “You are wrong Talvenya,” he said, shifting his head toward her.
“What are you talking about?” she asked.
"You said love abandoned you long ago, that only your son cared, where no one else had ever."
"Yes?"
"I cared."
“In my dreams perhaps, but in reality you only cared for me because I seduced you with magic—”
“Are you casting magic upon me now?”
She held her tongue, feeling shocked that he was right. Could Darshun—truly love her?
“I could have already taken your life, and yet there you sit.”
Unbelievable it seemed—a mortal who loved Talvenya, without the use of magic. Surely, this could not be true!
However, Darshun kept shedding tears, even still. “The magic you used only seduced my soul to darkness and grief, yet my love was real.”
“While you have no reason to lie,” she whispered, “still, it is hard for me to accept. I know my wickedness.”
“Aurora the ‘beautiful dawn’ was not hard to accept. Though it matters not anymore.”
“…Perhaps.” She gazed past him, noticing Mirabel, Nayland and many others; listening to Darshun’s army cheering victory within the field, even their Dragon, whose roar sailed across half the eastern region. Then she turned to her crown. It lay beside her, wet with blood from the battle. With a start, she jumped as a host of blue flames falling from Darshun's hand scorched it, quickly turning the crown to a molten liquid that drained into the ground.
“Asgoth is finished, your time as Queen has ended and the last remaining tears I held for you are shed. Go now…leave my presence while you can.”
Bewildered, she stood up, staring at him with awe. She couldn’t believe what had happened on this day, everything brought down by the Light even herself, totally humbled by Darshun, the only true spouse she ever really had.
“Live your life in peace Aurora.”
She raised her eyebrows.
“Yes, I prefer to remember you as she. Now…GO!”
Bowing courteously before him, she slowly turned around and walked away; soon out of distance, heading into the near-by forest.
Asiel flew down and landed on Darshun’s shoulder.
"Thank you Asiel, my friend," Darshun said, stroking the bird's neck. "Thank Uncle Seth for me too, my Guardian Angel. You both saved my life."
Asiel nudged his head then took back to the sky.
Sensing individuals behind him, he turned around and met his father, holding Caelestias in his arms. His legs were swelled and bleeding. And he was unconscious. “Oh no!” Darshun exclaimed.
“He will be all right my son. He needs medicine and rest. He was struck by the Kontula, underground plant roots wielding poison. The cowardly Dark King possessed them for his advantage.”
Others such as Nayland, Minevara, Favonius, Kaylis, King Loreus and the like were gathered around his side.
“You let the Queen go,” Minevara stated.
“Yes, I did. She’s no longer a threat.”
“Does she not deserve to die?”
“Maybe, maybe not. But that was not my decision to make at this hour.” Overhearing the crowd from afar settling down their chants of victory he whispered, “I am sorry I that can not share everyone’s enjoyment.”
“You won’t find me celebrating neither,” Nayland agreed. “You’re right Darshun, this is only the tip of the iceberg.”
“Come, let us go to Olchemy, so Uriel can take Caelestias back to Ashhaven for help,” Mirabel suggested.
“What about a guide?” Darshun asked.
“It appears Olchemy will take that position once again.”
They hurried over and down the hill then found the Wizard and Dragon, surprisingly facing north. They saw what caught their gaze and many others. It looked frightening—in the sky above Syngothra stirred a storm consisting of a cloud of darkness and blue lightning, casting a terrible rolling thunder.
“The time is drawing near Mirabel,” Olchemy announced. “The eve of Saruinkai comes closer each day. The true power of Abaddon’s Dark Crystal is beginning to awaken. It calls for the sacrifice, longs to destroy this world. Now the time of true testing shall begin.” He faced Darshun. “I shall be your guide into Syngothra, as I once promised. For it is apparent Caelestias needs medical attention.”
“Yes,” Mirabel agreed, “please, have Uriel take him to Ashhaven.”
Uriel glanced down at Olchemy, and Olchemy nodded. “Very well…” The Dragon nodded his enormous head.
“I shall return with him, if I may,” King Loreus offered.
“Yes, that would be excellent.” Mirabel glanced over at him. “You fought bravely, surely now those ill feelings about yourself have vanished.”
“I think everything is going to be all right Mirabel. Though after returning Caelestias, I do not know what I shall do. I wish to accompany the journey into Syngothra, but know that I cannot.”
“Just remember, the war is not over.”
“I know. In fact it is far from over. I just hope there’s something more for my place. Loreladia desires to lend aid as much as she is called.” He turned to his captain. “Speaking of Loreladia, Captain Mythaen, when all is finished here, lead the men back to the city and tell what has happened.”
“Yes, my King.” Mythaen bowed his head.
Climbing up Uriel’s large scaly body, they put Caelestias on top of his back, carefully between the spikes and King Loreus sat behind to secure him. “I will see you all soon. May the great Gods and Goddesses of Loreladia watch over you until the
next time we meet.”
Uriel took to the sky, ascending up to the clouds and was gone, flying off like the wind. Interestingly enough, among the heavens dwelt a cloud holding the shape of a sword with the sun’s rays shinning through it as if the image burned with purity and righteous power, reminding Mirabel of the Golden Sword of Lythar. The one he gave King Loreus long ago when the Cullach forced them out of the original Loreladia. The sword of legend and the one little Prince Loreus at the time swayed so easily.
There is something more for you in this war, something of great importance, Mirabel thought, and victory shall depend on you my friend, victory shall depend on you.
* * *
A few hours later, after a respectful farewell to the fallen creatures of the Light on the battlefield and a short rest, the Men and Elves prepared to return to their kingdoms.
“I guess this is where I say farewell Nayland, and to all else,” Kaylis said.
“Yes brother, I am proud of you, you did well.”
“Indeed so,” Mirabel concurred.
"I never thought I would be having this conversation. My first battle on the field, passed. I almost feel like one of you."
"You are one of us, and shall accomplish greater things as you mature in Nasharin years. Return to Ashhaven now, if that is where you choose to stay. Until our next meeting, farewell.”
“Farewell Mirabel.”
“You should go too Minevara,” Nayland prompted.
“Oh, I do not think so!” she sneered. “I am going with Windtros.”
“I have no argument there,” Darshun countered. “I witnessed your powers first hand today sister…it is obvious you can hold your own.”
She glanced back to Nayland with a look of satisfaction. After all, if the Guardian of earth recommends her, then who is Nayland to tell her what to do? She felt all puffed up like a proud wild feline.
“Do you mean that ice storm she spawned against those demon flames?” Nayland asked. “Ha! How soon you forget Darshun how I helped her along with that by casting a mighty wind. You really think her ice would have spread so far without me?”