by Aaron Oster
“What’s the point?” Morgan asked, his voice coming out hoarse. “Everyone around me dies. The world would be better off without me.”
“Is that what you think?”
The figure’s voice wasn’t angry or accusatory as she merely asked the question as it was.
Morgan opened his mouth to shoot back with a stinging reply but stopped himself a moment later. Could he honestly say that the world would be better off without him? With him gone, the war between humans and Faeland would continue, escalating to the point where millions would be lost. Chaos could break free, and the world would fall into an endless cycle of death and destruction.
“I…I don’t…” Morgan tried, then started again, only to stop once more.
Truthfully, he didn’t know what to say.
“Selfishness is not a good look for the King of Beasts,” the hooded figure said.
“How exactly am I selfish?” Morgan asked, his voice taking on a defensive tone.
“While you lay here, wallowing in self-pity, the world outside burns. Millions will soon be dead as the Beasts of the World and Beasts of Destruction rise. Will you rise along with the Beast King, or will you remain tethered for what remains of your short life? The choice is entirely yours…”
Before Morgan could so much as open his mouth to form a reply, the figure was gone, vanishing into thin air. However, she didn’t leave him alone. Sitting right before him and radiating with deep violet light, was a small pool of water. It was no more than a couple of feet across, surrounded by a small lip designed to keep the water contained. Nothing else could be seen here. There was nothing but the Well.
For several long moments, Morgan stared at it blankly, turning the words of the white-cloaked woman over and over in his mind. Was he really wallowing in self-pity? Was the guilt he felt over the deaths of those closest to him unfounded? And did he really have the strength to let go of it? To let go of them?
He knew that he could never forget. He would never forget the kindness Dabu had shown him in a world where everyone seemed out to get him. He could never forget the love and compassion shown by Gwen, a woman who had no idea who he was. Someone who’d taken him in and treated him as though he were her own. Sarah was someone he could definitely not forget. She was the entire reason he was willing to go this far. He’d go to the ends of the earth and wade through battlefields of blood and the corpses of thousands for her.
He would do anything to get her back, and if he simply lay there and did nothing, he would be betraying not only her memory, but he’d be giving up any chance of seeing her alive once again. Slowly, Morgan began to force himself up. First, he tried by pushing his hands down and attempting to force his uncooperative body off the ground. He felt heavy, burdened by the weight of his guilt and pain.
Still, he knew that if he stayed there, he would be spitting on the memories of those he held most dear. Their words still echoed in his mind, the ghosts of his past reminding him of why they had done what they had. Had they still been alive, Morgan had no doubt that they would sacrifice themselves and gladly die a thousand deaths, just so he could live his one life. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve such kind and loving people, but since they were gone, it was his job to carry on their legacy.
It was just as Gwen had said. So long as he carried their memories along with him, they would never truly die. True death would only come when no one whose lives they’d impacted were still among the living. Even as Morgan forced himself to his knees, he resolved himself to talk to someone about the amazing people in his life.
To Grace, he would speak of the first supermage, the one who’d shown him kindness and care, when others had simply wanted to use him. Dabu’s memory would live on through the stories they told, and history would not forget him, not so long as he assured it would remain.
He would speak to Lumia about Gwen, his mother, the woman who’d raised him until she’d been forced to give him up. The woman who’d never stopped loving him, no matter how far apart they’d become. Others would hear of her greatness as well, and what she sacrificed to assure that the Pinnacle King of Winter was delayed in his conquest of the Five Kingdoms.
And Sarah…
She will come back, and soon. She isn’t gone forever, not so long as you make sure of it. Let nothing stand in your way, and don’t allow your resolve to waver. Never forget!
Morgan straightened to his full height. Though tears still fell from his eyes, the resolve he felt was like iron. It was unwilling to bend and unshakable in its foundations. The world needed him to live, to move on, and he could not allow himself to fail. He took a single step forward, then froze as a deep rumbling growl echoed throughout the chamber.
Turning slowly in place, Morgan found himself standing face to face with one of the most terrifying beasts he’d ever laid eyes on.
“Ah…You must be the Guardian,” he said, his voice ringing hollow in his own ears.
He’d been wondering if the white-cloaked woman had been the Guardian, but seeing as she hadn’t actually guarded anything, he’d guessed that that wasn’t her job. The beast simply growled in response, the hot air from its flared nostrils washing over him. It seemed like he was going to have to fight, and though his resolve was firm, he wasn’t really sure if he could actually win.
This beast was strong, stronger than anything he’d faced before, and yet, he knew that he could not afford to lose. The prize of this battle was too great an opportunity to give up, and now that he’d decided on a course of action, Morgan was not about to lose.
***
Deep underground, far beneath the Well of Souls, a creature began to stir. It was an ancient creature, so old, in fact, that it had witnessed the very earliest stages of the world. Exhaustion and boredom had driven it down here centuries ago, where it had slept ever since. However, it could now sense a disturbance up above, and a presence that seemed both familiar and completely alien.
Massive claws began to slowly curl and uncurl, gouging lines in the solid stone beneath. Its core, previously dull due to its long inactivity, began to pulse lightly, moving the energy inside throughout its body. Though it was already stirring, a creature like this would take quite a while to fully wake, for consciousness to return and for it to tunnel out of his long seclusion.
When it did, the world would once again know the wrath of this beast, and it was something that no one would forget in a hurry.
***
The beast was enormous, somewhere in the realm of forty feet long and about fourteen at the shoulder. Its body was slender, covered in bristling feathers and leathery purple skin, and it was shaped more like a lizard than anything else. Its head looked distinctly birdlike and contained a wickedly hooked beak and a pair of bright golden eyes set on the front of its head.
Its front legs also looked like those of a bird’s, though it was a lot thicker and more muscular. Four massive talons, all a blood-red, gouged into the stone beneath. Powerful muscles traveled over its sides and back, revealing a pair of feathered wings that lay neatly folded into place. Its hind legs were definitely more lizard-like, containing a pattern of dark purple scales and skin. The rear limbs were also far more muscular, which showed that this beast not only had power but speed as well. A tail twitched back and forth, covered in short spines and layered in reddish-green feathers.
All in all, it was a genuinely terrifying beast, but one which Morgan knew he needed to take down. He was close enough to examine it, though it still caused him a bit of pain to do so.
Name: Guardian of Soul
Rank - 70
Ability Type - Supermage
Power - 1,540
Defense - 1,120
Ability - 1,790
Well, that’s not good, Morgan thought as a purple aura flared around the beast.
He honestly had no idea if it was an Intermediate, Advanced or Pinnacle beast. For some reason, he just couldn’t tell. One thing was very obvious. This would be an extremely hard fight. There would
be no holding back here, because if he did, he was as good as dead.
He who strikes first, strikes hardest. The words flashed in Morgan’s mind, just before he used Stormforge, summoning half a dozen violet spears – all crackling with electricity – and threw them at the beast.
34
“Would you care to go for a walk with me in the gardens?” Elyssa asked, laying down her quill and looking to the human Morgan had left to babysit her.
She didn’t know why he thought it necessary, but, in marriage, there would always need to be compromises. Just as she’d be demanding things of him, he would likely be doing the same. And, seeing as this was done out of concern not only for her but their alliance and the end of the war, Elyssa didn’t have any real complaints.
Still, if this woman knew Morgan, perhaps she could gain a bit more insight into her future husband’s personal life and how others viewed him.
“Sure,” Hilda said, stretching her arms above her head. “I could go for a walk.”
Now that she was dressed in proper attire, a long-sleeved shirt, pants, and an overskirt, Elyssa wouldn’t feel embarrassed being seen in her presence. Besides, she was sick and tired of being cooped up all day anyways, and the sunsets always looked beautiful from the marble fountain, as the rays brought out the deepest of the hidden colors.
“Excellent,” Elyssa said, rising from her chair and stretching out her back.
She’d been stuck signing wedding invitations and sealing them all day, and though the work was tedious, she had to make sure that every official and noble from all the different races received one with her signature and seal. Otherwise, they might very well see their lack of personal invitation as an insult. This would also assure that they would have to show up. Ignoring a summons was one thing, but ignoring a handwritten letter, signed and sealed by her, was quite another.
Elyssa briefly eyed the small tray of cakes sitting on the table next to Hilda, then shook her head and dismissed any thought of eating them. If she was going to be married in just a few weeks, she needed to remain trim and fit. She’d be getting her gown fitted soon, and as a queen, she would need to fit it perfectly, come her wedding day. Gilderon leaped to attention as soon as she opened the door, and Elyssa rolled her eyes.
“Why aren’t you in bed?” she asked, practically glaring at him.
Though his leg had been mostly taken care of by healers, they’d still warned against any strenuous activity for the rest of the week and standing guard all day could hardly be called relaxing.
“Because it’s my job to watch you. To make sure you’re safe,” Gilderon said, allowing his eyes to flick up to the tall human woman as she exited.
Elyssa could clearly see the anger in his eyes and resisted the urge to sigh out loud.
“Gilderon, I’m ordering you into bed. No excuses, and no wriggling out of it. You need rest, and you’re never going to get that so long as you’re following me around everywhere.”
“But the human…”
“Is an honored guest,” Elyssa said, her voice firm. “She is an ambassador, someone who is here at the behest of my future husband, no less. Please, if you can’t trust the humans, at least trust me to make my own decisions.”
Gilderon seemed torn, and for several long moments, Elyssa was afraid he’d refuse. However, his shoulders firmed as he gave her a curt nod, then turned and walked off down the corridor.
“Who shoved a stick up his ass?” Hilda wondered as they turned down the opposite hall.
“Gilderon isn’t always like this,” Elyssa said. “He just doesn’t like your kind all that much. Though I don’t have specifics, there was some story with an ancestor of his and a human. All I really know is that it was bad all around and that his family has hated them ever since. Of course, most of Faeland hates your kind for the way they acted during the wars, but enough time has passed that almost no one has any actual animosity.”
“No, just fear, which is far worse,” Hilda replied.
“You do have a point there,” Elyssa said. “Fear is a great motivator. I’m sure that’s why the gods used it in the first place. People act irrationally when fear is involved. Their minds become muddled, and thinking clearly becomes difficult at best.”
Hilda grunted in reply, looking back over her shoulder as though to check and see if Gilderon had circled back to follow them.
“How about we change the topic to something a little more interesting?” Elyssa suggested as they came to a small door.
Swinging it wide, she revealed a winding staircase leading down. This had been built long ago as a way for the rulers to get in and out of the palace without actually having to walk all the way down to the front entrance.
“Like what?” Hilda asked as she followed her in.
“Like Morgan,” Elyssa said. “What can you tell me about him?”
Hilda shrugged.
“Depends on what you want to know.”
“How about we start with how you met,” Elyssa replied. “What was your first impression of him?”
“Well, our first meeting wasn’t exactly what you would call ‘normal,’” Hilda said, making air quotes. “The first time we met, we were actually competitors in our academy’s yearly tournament. At first, I was confident I could win. I even had him on the back foot for a bit. Then he…almost killed me.”
“He did what?” Elyssa exclaimed.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Hilda said quickly. “It wasn’t on purpose. My defenses were strong, and his first few attacks didn’t manage to get through. So, when he increased his power and threw another attack, it landed just a bit too hard. Luckily for everyone involved, there was a good healer on hand, so no one died in the end.”
“That sounds like quite the meeting,” Elyssa replied. “Were you angry?”
“Sure,” Hilda said. “But less about what he did and more about losing. The prize was a really good one, and I’d really wanted to get my hands on it. But the North Kingdom attacked midway through, so no one actually won the prize.”
She chuckled then, as Elyssa pushed the door at the bottom of the stairwell open, to reveal a wall of hedges – the very edge of her gardens.
“It was one hell of a fight.”
“And when did the two of you meet again?” she asked, strolling forward into the early-evening sun.
“A couple of years later,” Hilda said. “And we had another fight.”
“Who won this time?”
“I actually did,” Hilda said, a touch of pride in her voice. “To be fair, my sister-in-law, the queen of our kingdom, did set the parameters of the fight to heavily favor my style of combat. I’m sure he still considers it a loss, though.”
“You are of the nobility in your kingdom?” Elyssa asked, sounding surprised by this.
From the way Hilda had been dressed, she’d assumed she was either a commoner or someone who practiced a less-than-honorable profession. It was why she’d initially balked at the idea of having her stay.
“Yeah,” Elyssa said. “But I don’t have much patience for it.”
“I guess you’re fortunate that you’re only related by marriage to the rightful ruler,” Elyssa replied. “Your claim to the throne would be pretty far down the list.”
“Actually, quite the opposite,” Hilda replied with a wry smile. “The queen married my brother, who was the king at the time. When he passed, the line of succession fell to me. But, as I said, I’ve never had much patience for politics, so I just let Le’vine continue to rule.”
Elyssa was once again surprised by the human. From all of the stories she’d been told, the overall impression of their race was that they were ruthless people, all looking to tear power from one another. Yet here was someone who did the exact opposite. Hilda, if she were to be believed, could be one of the most powerful people in the human lands. She would have been a ruler of an entire kingdom. She’d chosen not to, simply because she did not want it.
“Would you mind telling me more about your Fi
ve Kingdoms?” she asked. “I would love to hear about your upbringing and culture. I will be marrying one of you, after all, and I would prefer not to make any unintentional errors and accidentally offend Morgan.”
“Trust me,” Hilda said with a snort. “There is very little you can do to offend him. As far as humans go, he’s probably the most straightforward, honest and understanding person you could know. He doesn’t have patience for politics and prefers bluntness over being sensitive about his feelings. Don’t get me wrong, he can be plenty sensitive toward others. I mean, just look at Grace.”
“Is this the girl he met with in the gardens?” Elyssa asked.
She was curious about the girl and wondered what her connection to Morgan was. They seemed close, though the slap she’d doled out upon seeing him had confused her somewhat.
“Yeah,” Hilda replied, letting out a long sigh. “Grace is still young, and Morgan has taken her under his wing. Our kingdoms are allies now, and we needed someone who could fight the way he could. But the more time I spend with her, the more I can see that she won’t be anything like him.”
“How do you mean?” Elyssa asked. “Is she not receiving the same training he did?”
“Well, yeah, she has been learning to fight from him, but I don’t mean that. This is a bit hard to explain, but I’ll try my best. When Morgan fights, it’s as though a beast is awoken. He fights like a man possessed, and from the stories that I’ve heard and what I’ve witnessed in person, once he sets his mind to something, he’ll never give up.
“He’s nearly died dozens of times, facing off against creatures that were way out of his league. But, even when he loses, he always comes back for a second round. And, when he comes back for that second fight, he doesn’t lose.
“Grace, on the other hand, fights as a normal person would. She uses caution, is tempered by fear, and her upbringing imparted much more humanity than Morgan’s did. So, while they may have similar styles of fighting, Grace will be a much better leader when the time comes. As great as Morgan is, he’s more of a lone wolf than anything else. Although, when Sarah was around…” Hilda cut herself off, biting her bottom lip.