by C. A. Sabol
All of a sudden, her eyes caught sight of a speck of light. Her eyes widened. Any thought she might’ve had before was gone as she gasped.
ETOILEON CONTINUED tossing and turning in his bed, as his heart was racing, his fever causing him to sweat. The nurses and doctors of the palace were all confused as to why it was happening, exactly, because it had just started up so suddenly. They began to grow scared; it was rumored how much the princess cared for her darling protector. Their story was practically legend. Soon, the medical staff had run out of options, until one of them suggested calling Dr. Hamersley.
A few moments later, a viewscreen was connected and Dr. Hamersley careworn face was on the receiving end.
“So you say that he is experiencing unusual symptoms?” he asked. Taking a handkerchief out of his pocket, he thought carefully as the doctors responded to his questions and provided him with the necessary and available information.
After a moment of thought, the old doctor smiled gently. “I think that he will be fine,” he said. His gaze drifted off to the ceiling as he considered it all. “But I wonder what it means ... ”
The Diamond City medical staff thanked him for his time as the viewscreen went blank. Back at Silverton, Dr. Hamersley nodded. “I wonder what the Guardian is up to, with that young man being so torn apart ... hmmm. I will check in on him later, I suppose.”
Back in his room, Etoileon continued to get worse.
THE REBELS ATTACKED fiercely, driving hard into the soldiers of the Crown. The monarchy’s forces were driven back, back, and back, until they were all at the area near the Gemstone Oasis. Dorian had grown restless, and left his command center to begin leading the troops himself. He figured that his warriors would be cheered to see their leader be among those who were fighting.
Stepping out onto the field, the rebels were shuffling off the legions of the Crown and separating them.
Among those who were surrounded by rebels, Ronal fought with his weapons as skillfully as he could. As he watched another rebel soldier go down by his hand, he almost had to give a grimy smile; he envied Etoileon. War was not fun, as it had been in class. Here, if he lost, he lost his life.
Ronal recalled his training techniques as he gradually becomes more and more surrounded. Keep balanced. Remain focused. Change direction. Surprise them. Watch all sides. Don’t waste necessary energy. As he concentrated on surviving and just getting this day over with, Ronal remained determined to see this day through until the end, even if that meant his end.
Finally, he managed to get away from all of his enemies. As the final one in his area was cut down by his sword, Ronal looked over the top of the small hill he found himself on. He was near the palace. He could almost make out the tiny figures standing on the front balcony from here.
He turned and wiped the small trickle of blood off of his face, and was about to head for a more rebel-congested area when he noticed a man in the crowd. “What?” he squinted at the far-off figure.
There was a man, dressed in plain white clothes, with bright white hair and eyes that could be seen sparkling all the way over to where Ronal was standing. He was not holding a weapon, nor was he fighting at all. On the contrary, he was kneeling down and comforting the people he was talking to. It looked like he was a healer of some sort, but what caught Ronal’s attention and held it for a long moment was that this strange man was healing both the rebels and the Crown’s forces.
“What’s he doing?” Ronal whispered out loud. He felt like maybe he should go over and see what he was up to. If there were a traitor who was helping out the rebels, the Crown would see to it that they would deal with him.
“ADAMAS!” SELENE GASPED, half in horror, half in relief. She had found him, yes, but he was walking through the middle of the battlefield as mildly as walking through a clear, green meadow. Selene was shocked and felt her jaw drop open as she saw that he was stopping every now and then to the fallen soldiers crying out in pain and torment.
“What is it, Selene?” Cyerra asked. Around her, the other handmaidens gathered and began to look at the princess with strange, unreadable expressions on their faces. They were no doubt taking in her flushed cheeks and shaking hands, wondering if she was getting sick by all this violence.
“Do you need help, Your Highness?” Aura asked, as she too turned away from the battle to study Selene’s unhealthy features.
Selene shook her head and said with a weary voice, “Please, no.” She then dropped down the ground, clutching her heart. Her eyes went blurry, and she dropped her gaze down to the ground as she tried to stay focused.
When she looked up, she saw that all of her attendants had come close, some kneeling beside her and trying to support her as she sat there. Selene looked past them all, through the bars of the balcony fence, to catch sight of her beloved Adamas as he continued walking through the crowds of soldiers. “Adamas,” she whispered softly. She looked up to Kadrianne, Cyerra, and her other companions. “Adamas is the Light,” she said, as though she was realizing this for the first time. Suddenly, all the memories and words of what Pegasus had said to her were making sense. “Adamas is the Light,” she repeated.
The words caused strength, little as it was, to set fire to the desire of her heart. “I need to go to him!” she announced. Immediately, she struggled to get to her feet once more.
“Selene, you can’t go down there!” Cyerra objected, grabbing Selene’s wrist, trying to stop her. “There’s a battle going on! You could be killed!”
“No! I won’t be,” Selene told her. “I must go to Adamas. He has taught me so much, Cyerra. And I believe in him. He can save us all, I know it. He won’t let me fall.” With that, she tugged free of Cyerra’s hold and, still feeling a bit dizzy, headed for the palace exit.
Reaching the outside of the palace, as she had done several years ago for the Islanders’ Reception, Selene began to run unsteadily, in order to catch up with Adamas. She had much trouble, though, due to the uneven ground; however, what her biggest obstacle were her eyes. They were blinded with tears.
THE BATTLE PARTED AS Adamas made his way through the many soldiers. Some glanced at him and paid him no mind as other more dangerous enemies came up. Others just ignored him, letting him pass through. He was ordinarily extraordinary, and when it came down to it, he did not appear to be harmful. So for a while they just let him pass through.
Trouble started brewing, however, the moment Adamas began to tend to the wounded, talking with them. Those he sat with and saved watched him walk away with a new glimmer in their tearful, grateful eyes. Those he passed grew more and more annoyed, but still they let him pass.
Selene was breathing hard as she ran to catch up to him. She could not see him as well as she had been able to from the palace, but the healed warriors were kind enough to point her along the way. The forces of the Crown and the rebel warriors alike, who had talked with Adamas, friend and foe, all of those that had experienced the gracious healing of the kind man had experienced a love that transformed them. And the princess could see it, written on their faces, shining in their eyes.
Selene doubled over as her stomach cramped. She tried to catch her breath. She had been trying too hard too soon, she thought. She did not think it was wise for her to be about running around outside, let alone on a day of war, with her kind of ill symptoms. But she could not defer herself. There was a desperation sinking in, a hunger that would captivate her completely. She longed to be with Adamas; she should be with Adamas. There was a voice in her heart that would not be quelled, telling her to hurry to him.
He was almost to the middle of the battlefield when Selene looked up. She had glanced over at Adamas’ spotless figure, just in time to see a man, middle-aged, with slightly graying black hair and fierce blue-green eyes start to head towards Adamas with a demonic look in his eye.
“AT LAST! AT LAST!” Obsidian delighted, his hands rubbing together eagerly. “So, the Light has made himself visible to the humans, has he? This is excellent,
very, very good for us!”
With Emanon in tow, Obsidian and his followers started to corrupt the thinking of the fighting men. While the soldiers parted at Adamas’ approach still, they were hateful and despised him in their hearts. Poisoned against him, they glared at him with hard, degusted looks.
Selene started to walk toward him still, her steps halted by the raging crowds. As Adamas continued to show his kindness on the people around him, even in the face of their resentment, she threaded her way through the crowds, trying to get closer to him.
Cyerra and Kadrianne were following the princess, looking for her familiar form in the crowds of fighting.
Cyerra was just about to give up when she spotted Selene’s dark blonde hair. “Look! Over there!” She cried out happily. “Let’s go, Kadrianne! We have to help her!”
“I agree,” Kadrianne nodded, flinching as a warrior almost knocked into her. “I can’t see why the princess would insist upon coming out here, to this dreadful place.”
“Maybe she wanted to say something to that Adamas person,” Cyerra shrugged. “It has to be pretty important, anyway. I can’t see why she has to be with him now, of all times.”
They continued to struggle within the crowds as they slowly made their way to the princess.
ADAMAS HALTED IN HIS footsteps, stopping in his tracks. By this time, there were people all around who were calling out to him, shouting names and obscene phrases at him. Calling him a demon, a traitor, and much, much worse, he simply looked at them and gave a knowing, sad look.
Then he held out his arms, opening them wide. He held out his arms, making his body resemble a fork in the road. He called out, despite all the angry yelling and incessant cruelty by the people, both monarch supporters and rebellion members, “For so loved is this world, and so despised is the darkness, that I have come. I have come to release the Pure Light!” His voice would not have carried very far, had he been just a human. But his voice seemed to whisper his words of love into the very hearts of every person on the planet, echoing out into the far reaches of space and time, never ceasing to be said even as he himself was silent.
Emanon was within easy reach of Adamas by this time. Now ceasing his chance to be a hero in the eyes of his friends and soldiers, he took out his sword. There was a small reflection of sunlight that gleamed from the sharp edge.
Selene had been hurrying towards Adamas, until he had called out his words. They had caused her to falter, to pause in her determination. Now as she watched, with wide, staring eyes, she saw the powerful warrior of the rebels prepare the deathblow to Adamas’ body.
And there stood her friend, her beloved Adamas, telling his would-be killer of love. Selene could not seem to turn her head away from what was happening before her. She began to scream and she doubled over, as she felt the nausea start to take over her. She weakly looked up once more, to see that her beloved friend was on the ground, Emanon’s sword waved high, covered in a thick red color of blood. For a moment, she tried to see if Adamas had escaped Emanon’s blow; for a flicker of a second, his eyes caught hers. Then Selene felt dizzier than ever, and she fainted.
AS SELENE FELL INTO a deep sleep, across the distance and inside the palace, Etoileon suddenly jolted out of his coma. He looked around the room and tried to recall where he had been before he’d blacked out.
When he came up with nothing, he looked around. Looking at a chart on the nightstand table beside his bed, Etoileon discovered that he was in the Diamond City Medical Ward, and he had been in a coma since the aerial attack on Diamond City a couple of months ago.
“A couple of months!” Etoileon read and reread the date on the chart again and again, trying to remain calm. “How could this have happened?” he looked out his small window in the room and saw a small section of the battlefield. “What is happening?”
Then he remembered his dreams, and the Pegasus. “I wonder what he meant, telling me all that,” Etoileon murmured thoughtfully. He tried to get up out of bed and managed, not without some struggle. The floor felt cold on his feet, and he almost had to lie down again as he grew dizzy.
His door opened up and a nurse came in, one who had a large, charming smile. She looked down at Etoileon and said, “Oh, this is wonderful news! The princess will be so glad to hear that you’re awake.”
“Selene?”
“Yes, Her Highness. Now, if you would be so kind to just relax here and lie down again, I will go inform them at the desk –“
“Where is she?”
The nurse pursed her lips in a slightly annoyed manner. “Beg pardon?” she asked.
“Where is Selene?” he asked again. “I need to see her, now.”
“I’m sorry, Sir, but she had to leave about an hour ago,” the nurse replied. “But I’m sure she’ll be back as soon as she can, she’s almost always in here.”
“Where did she go?”
“I do believe that she was called away to watch the battle on the front balcony,” the nurse said flippantly as she gathered up his chart and tried to straighten up his bed somewhat. She gestured to him to get back on the bed and lie down, but he didn’t budge. “I need to go to her.”
“No, you’re not well enough,” the nurse protested, but it was too late. With the will of a Fighter, Etoileon yanked out the food tube and medicine bag from his skin, grimacing a bit at the pain, and got up. “Stop it!” the nurse was desperate.
“I’m sorry, but I have to go,” Etoileon told her, walking unsteadily out of the door. He headed in the direction of the palace’s main entrance, leaving an irked nurse behind. “I have to go to Selene.”
He’d been watching over her for years. He knew when she needed him. And she needed him now.
ADAMAS FELL TO THE ground, bleeding severely. The blood went everywhere on the ground, splattering even those far away as others followed the suit of the rebel leader and began to puncture Adamas’ once-spotless body. Selene was even speckled with his blood, as Adamas continued to live, wounded countless time, on the ground. Each new injury he received was celebrated, both by rebel and Crown fighter alike.
Cyerra and Kadrianne both watched the scene with tears in their eyes, Kadrianne with her hand held over her mouth in shock. They hurried towards where their princess laid, unconscious and blissfully unaware of the gory bloodbath that was taking place. Kadrianne took hold of Selene’s knees, and Cyerra clasped onto the princess’ shoulders. They started to head back to the palace, trying fiercely not to cry.
ETOILEON WENT OUT TO meet them, his legs sore and his body weak. He could barely walk straight and he felt lightheaded. But he could not shake this feeling that he was needed. So he continued on, drudging his feet in the muddy, blood-soaked ground. His eyes widened in shock as he looked around and found that his home had been turned upside down while he’d been asleep.
He had gone to find Selene on the front balcony, or at least in the general area, only to discover Aura was weeping uncontrollably. Once she had seen him, she blurted out the whole story as to where Selene had gone.
“And we couldn’t stop her!” Aura had cried, grabbing onto his shoulders and nearly shaking him, as her eyes were wide and full of tears. He shuddered as he recalled how she had nearly bowled him over, racing to him to cry on his shoulder. Aura had barely noticed that he had awakened.
Now, as he walked down the path of war, in search of his princess, he looked around to see that there was a bit of a riot going on some yards away. Hurrying over as fast as he could without losing his ability to stand up, Etoileon was paying too much attention to his destination to see what was right in front of his path.
He tripped over a person and landed in the mud. Etoileon groaned as he pushed himself out of the dirty mush, and spit out some mud that had flown into his mouth. Brushing himself off, he turned to apologize to the one he had tripped over. Only to see his brother’s face staring back at him. Pegasus had told Etoileon that he was Ammos’ son. That meant that Etoileon and Aemon were brothers.
“Aem
on!” Etoileon shouted, half in surprise, half in controlled disgust.
“You!” Aemon was struggling to get untangled from Etoileon’s legs. “You mind moving?” he shoved at Etoileon unsuccessfully.
“I’m sorry,” Etoileon apologized. He quickly got up and reached his hand down. “Let me help you, brother.”
Aemon grabbed his hand and stood up. “What do you mean, ‘brother’?” he spat. “You are my enemy. Let me go.” For by now Etoileon had taken a hold of Aemon’s wrist.
“Listen to me,” Etoileon said. “I am a son of the rebel Ammos. He is my father. I was here with him before, during the first rebellion nearly two decades ago. I got separated from the soldiers.”
“You’re lying,” Aemon scoffed. “What evidence could you have anyway?”
“Well, we look somewhat alike,” Etoileon muttered. “And I have the word of the Truth. That’s all I can give you now.” There it was again. The call that Selene was in danger. He had to go. “Look, we’ll catch up on family history later, but I would not lie about such a thing. I have to find someone.”
As Etoileon went away, Aemon felt a deep chasm open up in his heart. There was something familiar about him, Aemon thought. But was he really his brother? Would he want such a person for a brother? He could not answer these questions just yet. But somewhere deep inside him, he knew that Etoileon was telling the truth, despite all his logic and reasoning, and hopes, he had to be telling the truth.
Etoileon walked at a somewhat faster pace as he neared the midline of the battlefield. Everyone appeared to be a standstill, as it was just a bunch of guys in the middle, huddled in a circle. Looking closely, a smile jumped to his face as he spotted two handmaidens heading toward the palace together.