“I wondered when you would come,” the witch hissed. “You are too late, my dear, the baby is nearly here.”
“I will never be too late to end all of this,” Helena said glancing back at Malaya who watched on in horror.
The witch lunged forward growling as she swiped her dagger across Helena’s arm, cutting the skin. Helena winced and closed her eyes, bringing her healing power to the surface. As the broken skin moved back together, Helena looked over at the witch, anger in her eyes. She gripped her fists tightly together and whispered the words of the fae under her breath. She could feel the white light surging from her chest, whirling around her arms, and simmering at her fists. The witch cackled loudly before lunging toward her once again. Helena threw her fists up, shooting white light at the witch, watching it strike her in the stomach and knock her back against the wall. The witch growled and stood to her feet but Helena was faster, moving toward her and swiping the dagger from her hand.
Helena grabbed the witch by the throat and picked her up, staring up into her wretched face. The dead magic inside the witch burned at her palms and she dropped the witch, grabbing her hand and looking down at the blistered skin. The witch laughed, scurrying across the floor and grabbing the dagger. Helena slowly looked up at her anger in her eyes. She jumped forward grabbing the witch’s hand and twisting it toward her chest. She looked deep into the empty sockets of the witch’s face and growled.
“You will never know the peace of death,” Helena whispered, pushing the dagger into the witch’s heart.
The witch screamed and hissed, grabbing the end of the dagger and pulling it out. She looked down at the hole in her hollow chest, black liquid running down her. She swiped her arm, hitting Helena and throwing the fae against the cold stone walls. She staggered forward screeching until her old body fell to the floor and burst into a pile of dust. Helena groaned, touching the back of her head and finding her blood stained fingers.
“Hurry,” Malaya said breathing heavily. “The baby is almost here.”
“But I am here to end this,” Helena groaned pulling herself up to her feet and unsheathing her sword.
“I know,” Malaya panted looking up at her. “I have made many mistakes, wronged many people, and have taken the lives of those that only wished for peace. I know this child cannot come out. If I do nothing more with my life, I want to know my last act was one of love. Please, end this.”
“You are brave young Malaya,” Helena said holding her cuffed hand. “I will say a fae prayer for your soul.”
“Thank you,” Malaya said with tears in her eyes.
Helena released Malaya’s hand and pulled her sword high into the air, breathing deeply as she held it straight down over Malaya’s stomach. Her heart was breaking for this mother, she could feel it, but she knew that child was nothing good. She closed her eyes and screamed loudly as she thrust the sword down into Malaya’s belly and through to the bed beneath her. Helena opened her eyes and looked down at Malaya.
“Thank you,” she sputtered.
Before Helena could respond red and white light burst from Malaya’s body, sending Helena spiraling backward into the wall. The room shook wildly around her as she slowly lost consciousness. Her eyes began to shut, the last thing she had seen being the death of the future Kind of the Dead.
Chapter Seven: A Child Is Born
Aralea had been quiet for several minutes, Asphodul sitting by her side, stroking her hand. Asphodul could feel the surging of power as she sat there, wondering what was happening inside of those volcanic castle walls. She knew it was only a matter of time before things came to a head, but without her connection to Leonetta, she could only guess what was on the rise. She thought back to the simpler days, when her father was still alive and her life was nothing more than walks through the gardens and her sweet Tyriad smiling at her from afar. Those days were gone though, the innocence wiped away by death and war. All that was left was the fight for survival and her promise to Aralea.
She stood up and walked over to the window, staring out into the distance. The wild were restless, circling The Vale skies as lightning shuttered above and rain began to trickle down. She sighed beginning to turn when a loud sound rung through her head. The walls of the castle shook violently and Asphodul covered her ears, a loud shrieking sound bringing her to her knees. She looked up at Aralea who was writhing in the bed. Asphodul grabbed the window sill and struggled to her feet watching as red and white light began to surge through Aralea. She hurried to her side and looked down into her eyes.
“The baby,” she gasped looking down at her belly.
Asphodul rushed around to the front and pulled back the covers, seeing the child’s head begin to crown. She reached down and helped to pull the child out, the light almost blinding her. As the baby’s feet released and small cries came from it’s chest, the light ceased. Asphodul gasped, tears flowing down her face as she stared down in the small princess’s eyes. They were glowing red, but only for a moment. Slowly the crimson faded and the hazel eyed child stared up at her, only a small coo coming from it’s newborn mouth. Asphodul grabbed a clean blanket and wrapped the child up, quickly moving to Aralea’s side. Weak and clinging to life, Aralea turned, a single tear flowing down her cheek.
“She is beautiful,” she whispered. “But you must go. You promised. Take the Wild waiting outside the window. He knows where to go to keep you safe. Raise her, nurture, show her that evil is a choice. She has my magical blood but the light of the Dark King. It will always…be…her…choice.”
“Aralea,” Asphodul said through tears. “Don’t go.”
Asphodul stood there for a moment, staring down at Aralea’s now lifeless body. The baby cooed again and Asphodul pulled the blanket tightly around her. She had made a promise, and she didn’t have long to fulfill it. Her heart broke thinking about Tyriad and how she would never see him again. It was her fate, though, she knew that now, and she needed to leave in haste. She held the baby close to her chest and leaned forward kissing Aralea lightly on the cheek before turning to the window. Outside she could see the large wings of the Wild floating carefully beyond the window. She looked back at the door hearing Tyriad calling for her. She ran toward the window and threw it open, climbing up as the dragon moved closer.
Asphodul climbed upon the beasts back and held the child in her arms, looking over into the room as the doors flew open and Tyriad ran inside. He stopped looking into Asphodul’s eyes, watching as the dragon took flight. It would be the last time he would ever see Asphodul outside of his dreams.
***
“No,” Ghede screamed out, covering his ears and falling to his knees. “What have you done!”
Pike held tightly to the floor beneath him as the volcanic castle shook around them. Soot fell gently from the ceiling and Pike could see bright white light through the doorway. He knew Helena must have been successful in her plot, but the Dead King was still there, and he knew to finish it he would have to kill him. Sensations of pain and weakness emanated from Ghede, but like a wounded dog, his pain only made him more dangerous.
Ghede growled and ran toward Pike, grabbing him by the neck and slamming him down onto the large wooden table. Pike shuttered at his touch, feeling the cold kiss of death at his fingertips. Pike scrambled back and forth to get free but his strength felt as if it were being drained. Ghede leaned his head back and growled, feeling the rush of adrenaline coming from Pike. He stepped back, releasing Pike’s frail body, clasping his fists together, almost vibrating with power. He turned as Helena ran into the room, charging him with her sword, covered in the blood of his own. As the sword hit Ghede’s skin it melted down to the handle. Ghede laughed loudly swiping his arm across Helena’s body tossing her hard against the stone walls.
“Helena,” Pike yelled out, barely raising his head.
Ghede whipped around, staring at Pike with red eyes, his mask barely hanging on any longer. He reached up and pulled the mask off, revealing his undead skin. Pike grimace
d as he stared up at the creature before, Ghede skin barely there, bones showing beneath. He laughed, a toothy smile showing everything and walked forward toward Pike. He put one hand down on Pike’s throat and pulled him into the air.
“So you think, after all of these years, a mer-man could come here and take me out?” he smiled. “You foolish boy. So you have killed my child, no matter, I will find a better host, a more suitable one. Maybe your friend Helena would be interested.”
“Leave her alone,” Pike growled. “This is between you and me.”
“No, my boy,” he said. “This is between me and that bitch of a Fae, Leonetta who I am sure is close by. Did you know that if I were defeated she would rule the fae and be on the high council for the realms?”
“So what,” Pike spat. “You would be dead and that is all that matters.”
“I’m tired of hearing you speak,” he sighed, squeezing Pike’s neck harder and harder.”
The Mer-man dangled high in the air, no breath getting to his lungs. He scratched at Ghede’s hand and gasped for air, unable to move. Ghede released him just before he began to black out, throwing him down on the table. He shot a spell from his hands that encircled Pike in red light, pinning him to the table.
“Before I kill you, though,” he said walking over to Helena who was just starting to come to. “I want you to watch as I kill your little fae girlfriend.”
“No,” Pike writhed and wriggled on the table, trying to get free.
“Oh, yes,” Ghede said lifting Helena to her feet by her hair. “You will watch her die, and your precious Leonetta, and just for kicks, I will have you watch the entire Fae Kingdom burn to the ground.”
Ghede’s laughter echoed through the volcano and Pike didn’t know what to do.
Chapter Eight: A Sea of Lies
Coventina and Ardontis have taken up a prayer ritual to the God’s, hoping for a safe return of their prophets, and the death of the Dead King and his child. Leonetta is standing watch from the rocks, nervous and anxious as so much time has passed already. The child should almost be there but from their hiding place they know nothing more than what they see. The Dead Army is still preparing, and the swirling red lights overhead were still visible to everyone. If these two did not complete their mission then the realms would surely fall to disarray.
“Maybe we should begin preparing for an attack,” Ardontis said softly, walking up behind Leonetta.
“No,” she said looking at him. “They will succeed. They have to. I have seen it.”
As Ardontis is about to speak there is a loud wailing sound and bright red and white lights explode up through the caverns. Leonetta watches as they fly off toward the Vale, the sound of a child’s cry not far behind. Her eyes grew wide and she looked at Ardontis, shaking her head.
“The child was killed,” Leonetta said.
“Then what was that?” Ardontis shuttered.
“I’m not sure,” Leonetta said. “But whatever it was, it was heading for the Vale.”
“Could that be the Dead King?” Ardontis asked.
“No,” Coventina’s voice sounded from behind them. “That is the soul of the Dead King’s child.”
“But where is it going?”
“To find a host before it dies,” Coventina stated. “We can only hope no children were born at the same moment of death.”
“Can you see your sister?” Ardontis said looking at Leonetta.
“I will try,” she said putting her hands to her head and concentrating hard. “No, she is completely blocking everyone.”
“I will head there,” Holland said standing up. “We must make sure that everything had gone as planned.”
“Right,” Leonetta said shaking her head with confusion. “We will wait here to make sure the Dead King is gone and our two prophets safely return. Find passage into my thoughts when you return. Asphodul should be able to help you do that.”
“I will,” he said walking up to Leonetta and kissing her gently on the lips. “Be careful.”
“You be careful as well,” she said smiling at Holland like she hadn’t in years. “I will shield you until you are in the air.”
Leonetta walked under the cover of magic outward from the rocks. As soon as they reached the clearing she rubbed her hands quickly together creating a vibrating translucent bubble around Holland. He smiled at her once again before changing quickly into his dragon and taking off straight up into the air until the clouds hid him from sight. He looked back toward the ground and watched as Leonetta moved back to the circle, ducking behind the stones and boulders. He turned and jetted forward with speed, knowing he needed to get to the Vale as fast as possible.
Through the clouds and down toward the ground he flew, looking around at the fields that were barren. No one was out of their homes, and most had been sheltered in nearby cities when word of the impending strike had reached far and wide. He slowed his wings, sensing the presence of another dragon. He looked up, finding the shiny black scales of a Wild flying overhead. He tried to use his telepathy to talk to him but he was blocking everything. Curious, Holland flew straight up, flattening out next to him, seeing Asphodul on his back.
Holland, Asphodul said to him telepathically.
What are you doing? Pike looked down to see the baby in her arms.
You must hear me out, she begged.
Land in the field and I will hear you out, Holland said carefully.
He watched as the Wild swooped down into the open field, landing carefully and putting his wing out to help Asphodul down. Holland landed next to him and morphed into his human. He walked toward Asphodul with a quickness she had not seen in him before. She shielded the child and put one hand up, magic spinning at her fingertips.
“Speak,” Holland yelled out. “Before I kill you both.”
“This is the Wizard Queens child,” Asphodul said quickly. “When she gave birth something happened. She begged me to protect her, and I saw the child’s possible future.”
“She is the Dead King’s child,” Holland slowly stated. “You have to kill her.”
“No,” Asphodul screamed. “She is just a child, capable of good and bad, it will be her choice. She, if raised right, could be the key to our future. I made a promise to keep her safe, and that is what I shall do. Holland, no one can know about this.”
“Let me see her,” Holland said walking closer.
He moved the blanket from the child’s face and a hazel eyed baby looked up at him, cooing softly. He could see so much, almost as if she were showing him the future. His visions were vibrant full of growth, prosperity, and a long rule of peace. He broke free of the child’s gaze and stepped back, shaking his head.
“Do you see now?” Asphodul asked, covering the child again. “Do you see why I must protect her?”
“Yes,” Holland said. “But that will not be easy.”
“We are going somewhere safe,” Asphodul said. “But I must block this memory from the others and you must never breathe a word of it to even Leonetta. The future depends on this.”
“Alright,” Holland said shaking his head. “Do it quickly.”
Asphodul shook her head and laid the child softly on the ground. She rubbed her hands together and placed them on Holland’s head. He groaned softly feeling as if someone was inside of his mind. When she pulled away the pressure was gone.
“I don’t know if I will ever see you again,” Asphodul said picking up the child. “But take care of my sister, and be by her side. She will need you in the coming days. She will be Queen.”
“Take care,” Holland said watching the Wild take flight.
He didn’t know what the meaning of all of it was, but he knew that the secret of the girl would need to be kept. He watched until the three of them were out of sight before changing back into his dragon. The Vale would need him, and he was destined to be King.
***
They took Aralea’s body back to her chambers to be cleaned and prepared for service. She was suppo
sed to be immortal, yet when Tyriad burst through the door, she was there, dead. He had seen Asphodul disappearing into night, carrying a child in her arms, but she did not stop, only glanced into his eyes and flew off. He walked into his chambers and sat down in his chair facing the window. He couldn’t understand what had happened, or why she would have left that way. He could see in her eyes that there was no crazy mind or absurdity about her, she knew exactly what she was doing.
When the others had come in the room to find Aralea’s body, they assumed the child had died inside of her. Tyriad didn’t say a word, not knowing if that would pass as truth or not. If they did find no child they would know there was only one thing that could have happened, Asphodul ran off with it. Tyriad wanted to understand, to talk to his wife, to hear what she had to say, but something in him told him that he may never see her again. She was his wife, the love of his life, and he knew that whatever she had set off to do, it must have been of grave importance for her to leave her Kingdom and her husband in the blink of an eye. He could feel both heartbreak and fear running through him, hoping that none of it had to do with the Dead King or his child. They had seen the fall of the lights and heard the screams echoing across the plains, signaling the child’s death. But from there, what happened in that room, would stay a mystery to Tyriad and everyone else.
Tyriad stood up and walked over to the table, pouring himself a glass of wine and drinking it quickly. He refilled his cup and walked to the window looking out over the clearing skies. There was no word from Leonetta or Ardontis, and the Fae Kingdom would need a leader eventually. It was Leonetta’s place to take her rightful role as Queen of the Fae if his wife did not return. Even if she wanted to, though, if they discovered her treachery she would be exiled from The Vale, never able to find the lush grounds again. It would be the worst punishment for her, but there would be no way around it, not without starting a war with what was left of the Wizarding Kingdom. All Tyriad could hope was that no one found out, and if they did, that Asphodul had a plan. Otherwise, the Fae would leave her to rot, and he was sure there would be those that would make it their life to hunt her down and kill her. There wasn’t anything he could do at that point, though, what was done was done.
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