Blood Immortal

by Paul Centeno

  “How can this be?” he screeched.

  “There is only the One,” said Aarian, watching the demon lord’s body explode, followed by its torn Spirit dissipating.

  He steadily descended onto the blazing peninsula and took a deep breath, relieved. The would-be immortal Spirits and their deadly legion of demons had finally been vanquished. He stood still, listening to the inferno. Would he dwell in hell for eternity? Was that his fate as the Dralekar?—to rot here forever?

  After all he’d done, if such was his destiny, he wouldn’t be able to find tranquility. The only thought that gave him a fraction of peace was him knowing that Yunedar and its denizens were safe. Accepting his doom, he aimlessly roamed around the plains of hell. No matter where he traveled, it was all the same: volcanic mountains, lochs filled with lava, abysmal pits, and an endless sky of fiery clouds.

  He wished with all his heart to find spirits of those whom he’d loved and lost during the demonic incursion. If he had to linger here for the remainder of his immortal existence, then it would at least be fulfilling to find Master Dargain, Magi Frostwarm, Earamathras, or even his parents.

  Yet after nearly a year of searching throughout the nether, he found not one spirit. He was all alone in the plains of hell. Aarian wanted to cry, losing hope. At this point, he finally realized that being the Dralekar was a terrible curse. This was his epiphany: that his destiny was to suffer endlessly more than any being in the history of Yunedar. Upon acknowledging this, he fell to the ground and wept miserably. Releasing his anger, replaced with tears of regret and hopelessness, he returned to his humyn form.

  On the jagged ground, naked and shriveled in a fetus position, he felt so drained. Then his blonde hair discolored to a grayish tinge. Aarian’s blue eyes waned, his skin wrinkling. He was barely able to move. Truth be told, he didn’t care about this; at least until he heard a cackle that echoed throughout the fiery kingdom.

  “You humyns are so pathetic,” said Izabaldo, appearing behind Aarian who lay helpless on the sweltering terrain. “I think this is what I’ve always loved about your pitiful race: the fact that you’re all so damn sensitive, emotional, and convinced that you must suffer to be alive. I think that is a rather interesting philosophy.” He lifted his hand, continuing to drain Aarian of his life force. “Don’t worry, Dralekar, I will make sure you suffer.”

  Aarian no longer had any anger to use against the last demon in existence. He’d released every ounce of hate within himself when he lost hope of finding his loved ones. Yet that didn’t mean he couldn’t fight back; he still had the Spirit of light. Thinking of all those who had died because of fiends like Izabaldo, he conjured a magical barrier of light that enveloped him. The barrier protected him from his life force being drained further. Then, though struggling greatly, he summoned an angelic suit of white armor on himself and stood up.

  “I don’t like it when demons insinuate that humyns are the only beings who must suffer,” said Aarian, his eyes glowing white. “That’s why I’m here, Izabaldo. I am here to teach you that suffering isn’t limited to humynity.”

  That instant, he jumped into the air in a rotary motion while manifesting a radiant maul that shimmered so brightly it blinded Izabaldo for a second. But that one second was all Aarian needed to reach the demon. He swerved the maul against the demon’s horned forehead, pounding his face so hard that he flew into the hazy heavens. Aarian then leapt up, conjuring wings of light on his back, and soared into the firmament where numerous celestial bodies were suspended.

  Upon reaching the celestial realm, he reached Izabaldo who was dazed and slammed the hammer into his chest downward, sending him back into the plains of hellfire. Izabaldo crashed through the ground so intensely that the peninsula split. Aarian then descended like a meteor, his eyes seething with limitless holy light, and bashed Izabaldo in the face countless times through the blazing granite until the demon reached the end of the nether world, returning to the celestial realm.

  When this occurred, Aarian produced an uppercut so powerful that Izabaldo’s crippled body simply exploded. His immortal Spirit was all that remained. He quickly clutched Aarian’s neck, attempting to consume his Spirit of light. Aarian continued to age rapidly, groaning and gasping as Izabaldo’s transparent soul cackled in a resonating tone.

  “That was impressive for a humyn,” said Izabaldo, his voice echoing. “You surely did teach me that suffering is not limited to humynity; but I am afraid your lesson ends here. Now it is time for you to join the rest of your kind in extinction.”

  “Funny,” rasped Aarian, “I was thinking the same about you.”

  With the last of his strength, Aarian released his Spirit of light, blasting Izabaldo with the remnants of his magic. The shockwave was so immense that it looked like a supernova, except it was a cosmic explosion of holy power. In the blink of an eye, the Spirit of Izabaldo disintegrated. Even the nether world vaporized.

  Aarian drifted lifelessly, his twisted body bent and wrapped around cosmic dust. He no longer breathed. Stars flickered billions of miles away from his body. There was no sun near him. As a matter of fact, nothing other than interstellar mist accompanied the inert corpse of Aarian. Yet the swirling, misty dust embraced him, brightening around him and forming into a semitransparent platform of light.

  Floating ahead, Aarian gently landed on it. Then some of the cosmic dust sprinkled over him, allowing him to breathe once more. At that exact moment, Aarian opened his eyes, huffing and puffing for air. Dismayed, he looked around and saw nothing but the flickering stars so very far away from him. He then noticed the platform he lay on. Getting to his feet, the mist that brought him here slowly twirled and formed into a being of light. Aarian attempted to look at the feminine figure hovering before him but was temporarily blinded.

  “You have exceeded my expectations, Aarian of Yunedar,” said the Spirit of light.

  “Xen?” called out Aarian, squinting at the Spirit, finally able to see her. “How are you alive? I thought you gave up your soul.”

  “Ah, that I did,” answered Xen, smiling. “But see, you released me when you sought to purge Izabaldo. And I must say, it was quite an amazing sight to witness his demise. But alas, a demon still remains.” She paused for a moment and continued, “My time has passed. And so I must depart once and for all.”

  “No,” said Aarian, shaking his head. “You can’t. So many people reach out to you. We need you. We need to reach out to someone or something—anything in order to fill the void in our hearts. If you don’t exist, what meaning will we have?”

  “You must, as with everyone else, become your own master,” said Xen. “It is time to believe in yourself and create your own future.”

  “What of your speech about fate?”

  “You have shattered fate,” said Xen. “As the Dralekar, you have accomplished something no other being has done, mortal or immortal.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked, mystified.

  “For the first time since my existence,” began Xen, “I cannot tap into the fabric of time to see the future. Destiny, whether you ever believed in it, is no more. The demons are gone. You have saved our world. And now it is time for you to return.”

  “Is that even possible?”

  “My soul is supposed to be immortal,” said Xen. “Though, it is my choice to sacrifice my existence to resurrect a mortal. It is the only white magic that allows one to revive without being tainted. And you have earned it.”

  “No,” said Aarian frailly. “I don’t want you to do that.”

  “I have lived far too long,” said Xen. “The world I once knew is gone. But you can still make a new life for yourself. Go now, Master Aarian, and create a future without good or bad; a future without destiny; a future without Spirits to rely upon.”

  “But—”

  Before he could finish, Xen transformed into a portal, sucking Aarian forth. He tried to resist; however, it was too strong. Within seconds he was pulled and consumed by the rift of ligh
t. Then it sealed and detonated into myriad particles. And that was the last time any being existed in the realm of the nether.

  EPILOGUE

  BREATH AFTER DEATH

  Aarian reappeared in the realm of Yunedar, dropping only five feet from the air. By the time he hit the ground, the magical portal above dissipated. Aarian then examined himself and realized that he strangely wore his golden armor even though he’d recklessly ruined it when turning into his demon form during the battle at Jerelaith. Upon seeing it undamaged, he nodded at himself, realizing this was the last form of magic he’d experience from a Spirit; they were now extinct, as were the demons.

  He got to his feet and found himself in a garden littered with vibrant flowers, bushes, and grass. Trees surrounded him too. Though the land looked untainted, he had a feeling that he was still in Vlydyn rather than Lar’a’dos, which had a tendency to look like this beautiful garden. As he walked ahead, he noticed a grove. In it stood a moonstone shrine with a marble sculpture of himself wearing his gryphon suit of armor.

  A few tiny fairies hovered over the statue. When he approached, they quickly fluttered north and returned to the woods. Aarian glanced around the grove to see if other beings were there, but he was alone. He then looked at a silver plaque below the statue, which read:

  “Sacred to the memory of King Aarian of Vlydyn, Protector of Lar’a’dos, Dralekar of Niratredam, and Savior of Yunedar. May he be remembered not only as the last humyn who represented a noble race but also as a Master, gifted by the touch of Xen.”

  When he spotted the year in which the memorial had been created, his eyes widened. It was literally one year after the war. He observed the ionic pillars surrounding the shrine and sat down on the second of three steps, breathing in fresh air and taking in the grove’s beauty. It had been a long time since he’d seen something so beautiful without having to worry about a deadly battle. As he sat there, he heard a chorus of insects and a fairly quiet squawk. Yet the longer he sat there, the louder the squawk became. Aarian eventually got up and turned around, noticing Scar behind the statue.

  “I knew you would come back,” said Scar emotionally.

  “Scar!” responded Aarian in disbelief, running over to his best friend and hugging him tighter than ever. “After seeing this shrine and realizing everyone thinks I’m dead, I thought I’d never see you again.”

  “Nonsense,” said Scar, a tear falling down his feathery face.

  “My goodness,” said Aarian, relieved. “What happened to the others? Did they return to their homelands?”

  Scar nodded and answered, “Warlord Varkagorsa and his remaining legion returned to Niratredam with the dwarves. Not only are they now allies, but Varkagorsa has also become the new emperor of Warenyth.”

  “Amazing,” said Aarian. “He, above all, deserves that. Please, tell me more. I want to know everything that happened.”

  “There are many druids and high elves that have decided to stay here,” said Scar. “They want Vlydyn to heal. Though they may not be in this exact location, they certainly dwell here, making sure the land recovers. As for Princess Parla’vasa, she mourned your death and took it very hard. She stayed here until the shrine was built and then couldn’t bear it anymore. It pained her to be here, so she returned to Lar’a’dos and formed a new council of High Rulers to watch over the continent.”

  “What about Shakar?”

  “She decided to stay in Vlydyn,” replied Scar, squawking. “Since she had lost her pack she decided to live the rest of her life here. Many druids shape-shift as werewolves to make her feel less lonely.”

  “I’m glad,” said Aarian, gazing at the canopy. “It seems that everyone has moved on with their lives and has found some measure of peace.”

  “Except for me,” snorted Scar playfully. “Until now at least.”

  Aarian smiled and hugged him again. “Say,” he began optimistically, “how about we go on that special adventure you told me about before I got sucked into limbo.”

  “Ah,” said Scar elatedly. “But wait. Don’t you want to travel to Lar’a’dos and be with the princess? After all that’s happened, I feel Parla’vasa fell in love with you and wished for nothing more than to share her life with you.”

  “I can’t do it, Scar,” said Aarian, sighing. “Be disappointed in me if you must. But I have learned my lesson, and no matter what happens I will never again be forced into something that I cannot cope with. Princess Parla’vasa is a fine elf. Yet she is not the one I fell in love with. And you know more than anyone else that politics just isn’t my forte.”

  Scar chuckled and replied, “Very well. You have become a master of your own self and stand by all your decisions without regret or hesitation. It means you have truly become the man whom Master Dargain always wanted you to be.”

  “As usual your words touch me, my friend,” said Aarian, petting him. “So, what are we waiting for?”

  “Hop on!”

  The moment Aarian mounted him, Scar spread his wings and flew south. Aarian could see the forest of Grisfall, happy that it was growing back again. The sun shone brightly, a blue sky greeting him with not a single cloud in sight. Breathing in the fresh air, he sighed with relief. The wind occasionally stirred, pressing against him gently. He embraced the gorgeous weather, not to mention the ride.

  “Where are we going first?” asked Aarian.

  “I’m taking you to the southern island of Tawajin,” said Scar. “Despite it being close to Vlydyn, it wasn’t affected by the demonic incursion.”

  “That is a blessing,” said Aarian. “I heard it’s a paradise there.”

  “Wait until you see it,” replied Scar, gliding. “Just hold on tight. We’ll be there before midday.”

  After several hours of flying swiftly above Vlydyn, Scar reached the Crey’falen Ocean and continued south. Aarian never felt bored. He appreciated the magnificent view, especially when he gazed upon the seemingly endless water. And sure enough, by midday Aarian spotted Tawajin in the distance. The coast had a breathtaking beach of white sand littered with lustrous seashells. About a mile north of the shoreline lay fertile land. The rest of the tropical island was covered by a wilderness that matched the beauty of forests in Lar’a’dos.

  “Now this is an adventure,” said Aarian, gleaming.

  “I knew you’d be impressed,” said Scar. “But if you think this is nice, wait until you see some of the waterfalls in the wilderness.”

  Scar started to descend toward Tawajin, gliding while sporadically flapping his wings. As soon as he reached the beach, he glided through the colorful wilderness where dryads and water nymphs dwelled. The duo passed by many streams and waterfalls. There was one, however, that dazzled Aarian more than any of the others. Before him lay a grove with a simple wooden home surrounded by trees bearing various fruits. And behind the home stood cascading waterfalls that gently fell to a plunge pool. Even more beautiful was the rainbow that hung above, between the home and waterfalls.

  This is where Scar landed, allowing Aarian to dismount him and observe the amazing landscape. Without even thinking about it, he felt this could be his home. He didn’t need the luxuries he’d been spoiled with as a prince so many years ago. All he needed was peace of mind and a touch of nature. Unfortunately, someone already lived here. In fact, when he realized this he was about to withdraw and climb back on Scar to continue his journey of a lifetime.

  Not a moment later, the owner of the home stepped outside, calmly staring at him. She was a slim young lady with auburn hair and green eyes. Aarian gazed blankly at her, as if he’d trespassed and should be reproached.

  “Belisa,” he managed to utter.

  They immediately rushed into each other’s arms and hugged so tightly that it was as if the world depended on it. Scar watched them, happily squawking, and knew that he’d made the right decision by bringing Aarian here.

  “Scar told me everything that happened,” said Belisa, tears of joy in her eyes. “And even though I doubted hi
m, he kept telling me to have faith that you would return.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Aarian, mystified. “How did you survive?”

  “I’m not sure if you remember,” began Belisa, “but Magi Frostwarm was initially going to bring us both here. When you left, he entered the prayer room and was kind enough to ask me if I still wanted to live in Tawajin. I almost said no. Yet when I imagined seeing you married to someone else, I just couldn’t bear to see that. So, I accepted his offer. He then used his magic to teleport me here.”

  Aarian turned to Scar, his brow raised. “You knew about this all along?”

  “I wish,” replied Scar. “Dargain had told me about the plan when you left to the temple of Thay’tal before the wedding. Yet when you returned to marry Princess Parla’vasa, I was sad and kept quiet. Then the invasion occurred. I had feared the worst. For years I thought you were both dead. Trying to escape, I flew here. That’s when I found Belisa.”

  She smiled and said, “I made Scar promise me that if he found you he’d try to convince you to return to...what was her name? Parla’vasa?”

  “Ah, a test,” said Aarian. “I deserved that.”

  They then smiled, lost in each other’s eyes, and finally kissed. Their sacred kiss was one of lost years and everlasting love. And from that point on, they lived out the rest of their mortal lives on the small tropical island of Tawajin.

  To the world of Yunedar, humynity had become something of a legend. King Aarian, the Dralekar who vanquished the demons from the world, was venerated as an eternal Spirit. Despite the humyn race being mortal, the mythical elves, dwarves, orcs, trolls, werewolves, fauns, and every other creature in the world had come to revere humynity as a race of noble beings who’d valiantly sacrificed their lives so that the other races could live on in peace. And no matter how many eons had passed, the saga of the Dralekar endured in their hearts. It endured until the end of time.