Lastborn of Forsaken Roses

by Thomas Green

  ***

  She descended the tower and weaved through the camped army until she reached the tent she was looking for. The guards by its entrance threw her surprised looks.

  Luna smiled. “I am here to meet the general.”

  “There is no one like that in here, miss. You must be mistaken,” a bald soldier said.

  She took a deep breath. “James! Tell your underlings to fuck off before they get hurt!”

  An awkward silence filled the air for a few seconds before an alluring voice answered. “Let her in.”

  She entered. Beyond two sets of curtains, James sat by a simple table covered with maps. He greeted her with a broad smile on his pale face. “Am I dreaming or has my sweetest daughter come to visit me?”

  Luna leapt at the table and hugged him with all her strength. “I missed you, father.”

  He said nothing but returned the hug. They stood motionless for a long moment. “Care for a drink?”

  She tried to speak, but her throat refused to comply. “Mmhmm.”

  James reached for a steel box, unlocked the lid, and pulled out a bottle. “How has life been treating you?”

  “Kind of great. I have made a few friends, somehow pushed through the tournament and became a little rich,” she said. “And no, not by getting the pouch full of copper from you.”

  He arched an eyebrow.

  Luna sighed, turning her eyes toward the ground. The memory of all the innocent people who lost their life because of her crept into her mind. The farmers, Addie, the Lawland family… none of them had to die. Not until she came around. Why am I trying to lie? “I almost died multiple times, committed more crimes against humanity than I’m willing to admit, became a wanted criminal everywhere I stepped and failed at everything I tried, losing pretty much every fight I got into.”

  James smiled. “That sounds more like the truth. I got myself an army to play with, so I’m doing fine as well.”

  Luna’s eyes widened. “Which part of what I said sounded like I was doing fine?”

  “I expected things to go worse.” James handed her a glass filled with brown liquid. “Way worse.”

  She possessed no desire to know what he expected. Luna shook her head and drank the contents of the glass. A pleasant heat seeped into her throat and stomach. “This is from before The Upheaval, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, one of the last of its kind. Finding my favorite booze has become rather difficult, so savor it, since this might well be the last bottle of two hundred years old brandy in the world.”

  Luna snickered. “How am I supposed to like beer when you give me this?”

  “You aren’t… how’s the wolf? Is he a good puppy?”

  “I’ve met a man who calls himself Lucas. He told me I need the bindings that hold us together redone. What he said it’s causing made sense, a lot of it. Was he right?”

  A satisfied smile split his face. “I’m surprised you survived meeting the Dreamwalker. Yes, he is correct, and yes, you can trust him on what he says or promises.”

  Luna returned the smile. “You know each other?”

  “I wouldn’t use that word, but yes, we have met. Has he found you someone to do the ritual?”

  “Admiral Elias la Grace from the Palai Order.”

  James laughed. “You joined the team Palai, heh? That’s going to be fun, for it's been a while since we had a proper fight. Anyway, Elias is a decent choice. He is one nightmare of a whoremonger, but I suppose you are keeping your legs shut when he’s around, aren’t you?”

  Luna’s body stiffened. “Of course, I am!”

  “Good. He will need this.” James rose, picked a notebook from a steel chest to toss it onto the table. “He will figure out how to translate the text.”

  Luna looked at the thin stack of parchments. The papyrus was yellow, undoubtedly ancient. She peeked inside but saw only runes she could not understand.

  “Try not to lose it. I will need it if Elias meets his demise in the meantime and I need to redo your bindings myself.”

  Luna put the parchment beneath her tunic and toyed with her drink, enjoying the brown liquid splashing around. “Thank you… are you sure you aren’t angry I am on the other team?”

  James refilled her glass and drank from the bottle. “The hardest task of raising you was trying to stop you from spending your life within my shadow. So no, I am not mad. I am happy you had the choice of who you want to become and now I hope you will fight for your decisions. Because I am still an enemy of the Order, so if you want your friends to survive this war, you will need to help them not get ripped to shreds by me.”

  Warmth filled her body and not just from the drink. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you is so not enough.”

  James laughed. “Say nothing. How’s the pretty-faced slave doing? Raven, I believe. He hasn’t tried anything funny on you, has he?”

  “No,” Luna blurted. She knew this tone, and that James used it only when he was considering whether he should murder someone now or later.

  His eyes narrowed. “And have you?”

  “No, of course not!”

  “And from others, did you stumble upon any serious relationship?”

  Luna’s heart shot into her neck. “No.”

  James’ voice sunk an octave lower. “Any non-serious one?”

  “No, I’m too busy training for the tournament to have time for anything.” I need a diversion, now! Luna flicked her wrist to make the black longsword appear. “What is with this sword?”

  “It’s the Nightweaver, the sword of Strauss Laen’Ash, the Immortal King who ruled this world at the times of the Old Kingdom. If you desire the technical part, it is a shard weapon. Without activation, it is a regular longsword while finding how to activate it is your test of adulthood.”

  Luna’s eyes widened, and her throat became dry. “Why do you have it, dad?”

  “Because I took it from the corpse of its previous owner.” James smiled, nostalgia flashing through his eyes. “Don’t dwell too much on it though, for the past is a mere shadow of our former selves. We can see our reflection within, which makes us believe there to be a hidden meaning, believe the reflection of ourselves can become our guide. The reflection is a lie. We look to the past to see what we want to see. Past is just that… past. It haunts us, inspires us, but the future is what judges us. Remember this, Lunariel, remember to keep your eyes focused on the future, and nothing else.”

  She gulped. The Upheaval, the war during which three-quarters of the world’s population died, including all dragons and everything related to them, started when the Forsaken Prince murdered the Immortal King. The stories of the Forsaken Prince he used to tell her weren’t fairy tales, but history. His history. The news of James being the man who caused the Upheaval did not shock her nearly as much as she thought it should have. She looked at him, the man who killed millions, the living legend whose action led to the genocide of entire species, but saw only her father, who she loved.

  She smiled. “How did Dreadwolf live with being like me?”

  “He was a religious nut.” James shrugged. “I tried to teach you the Alnil faith that kept him sane, but it hasn’t exactly panned out, has it?”

  No, it hasn’t. While she did do the minimalistic ritual of sending the souls of the people she killed to the peaceful afterlife, she would never have called herself religious. She wondered if the souls of the farmers, Addie, and Lawland’s family found their peace. She wished she believed they did.

  James noticed her sinking mood. “Don’t beat yourself up over it though. I’m sure you will figure it out.”

  Luna stayed in his tent until late in the night. Inebriated and happier than she ever remembered being, she rejoined Raven in the arena complex and went to sleep.

  32

  Lucas

  Lucas traveled far, spending weeks upon the road. He arrived at a massive, lifeless hall. Pillars holding the high ceiling stood marred by scars of battles past while at the hall’s head shone a gol
den throne saddled by a woman dressed in a matching gown with a broken blade piercing her heart. Her expression was still, frozen in time while a hundred and sixty-three buckets of flowers besieged her.

  Lucas sagged by the throne, pulled the hundred sixty-fourth bucket from within his soul chamber and placed it by the throne’s side. He focused and his spirit left his body, ascending into the Limbo.

  Lights and bubbles of all shapes and sizes representing soul chamber of people in reality covered the endless emptiness of the Limbo. He ascended past them, up into the infinite darkness of the Void.

  After what felt like an eternity, he arrived at a swirling cloud of pure blackness. The nothingness wrapped around him, cold but welcoming, and a room opened before him, an antechamber made of nothing but darkness, and a richly decorated chamber beyond a glass wall.

  Within the room filled with pillows, books, and paintings stood a golden-haired woman with sky-blue eyes dressed in a flawless golden gown. Her face brightened, and she smiled faintly when she saw him. “Come on, Lucas, why do you keep coming here?”

  A tear slid out of Lucas’ eye as his gaze rested upon his wife. He returned the smile and sat by the glass wall. “You know why, Neh.”

  Nehamah walked to sit on the other side. Barely a foot away from him, yet beyond reach. “The flowers are pretty, thank you.”

  “How were the books?”

  She smiled. “Fun. I enjoyed the poetry. It was so wonderfully cheerful.”

  “I got you new ones.” Lucas motioned his hand, and a large stack of novels appeared next to him. “I scooped the old Grimdawn library and found quite a few pieces you have yet to read, especially in the red shelf section.”

  Nehamah shook her head. “You know I like those, but when will you understand that this is pointless and stop coming?”

  “Never. I will never give up on you.”

  “You should.”

  “Why?”

  She sighed. “You keep destroying yourself. There is no way to set me free, so stop trying and find yourself a new wife. Forget about me and let me die.”

  Lucas wished those words didn’t pierce him as hard as they did, but he could not help himself. “I am not leaving you behind.”

  “You should.”

  “I can’t. Not for as long as I have a single breath within me.”

  “What do you want, Lucas? We have lived together for longer than anyone has the right to. We overcame our destiny of never having children... we have lived to the end of our dream.”

  “I haven’t. My dream is not over, for our children haven’t met us, our home stands cold and my war isn’t over. I am not finished, so I refuse to abandon you.”

  Her face bore a strange mix of a sadness split by a waning smile. “You can’t set me free. I will be here in this prison of darkness for eternity, and you can’t change that. Nobody can.”

  “I will.”

  Nehamah sighed. “Anyway, how are the girls doing?”

  “Messing around, as usual. They are all so much like you.”

  She shook her head. “Stop seeing me everywhere you look.”

  Lucas laughed, but in a forceful, joyless way. “I can’t.”

  “Then stop looking.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “You are helpless, aren’t you?”

  Lucas smiled. “As always.”

  Nehamah couldn’t help herself but return the smile. “What am I supposed to do with you?”

  “Wait until I set you free and then do whatever you want afterward.”

  “Have you made at least made a semblance of a plan?”

  “Of course.”

  Nehamah’s eyes narrowed. “Why don’t you tell me about it?”

  Lucas scratched the back of his neck. “Because you won’t like the concept.”

  “I figured. So?”

  “The plan starts by me killing the Eighth.”

  “You are right. I don’t like this plan. Can’t you create another one?”

  “No. They function as beacons for the Red God, and I cannot shield this world from him for as long as they live, so they must perish.”

  Nehamah gave him an inquisitive stare, but he made sure his face remained calm, not revealing the doubts creeping within. “Please tell me you have the next step.”

  “I do.”

  “Well?”

  “It involves a dragon deity. Not an ancient dragon, but a real dragon god.”

  “There are no dragon gods in this world.”

  Lucas shrugged. “I am aware.”

  Nehamah’s face hardened. “So… you want to kill your brothers and sisters and then go search for something that doesn’t exist? You were right, Lucas, because I don’t like this plan.”

  “It’s the best one I have.”

  “Don’t do this… please. You will end up killing everyone you love and fail in the end.”

  He shook his head. “You know my answer to that.”

  Nehamah frowned. “I do. At least give your brothers and sisters the honor of killing them yourself. Don’t send your underlings to butcher them, to do your dirty work. End them yourself and if you can’t, forget this madness.”

  “I will.”

  “I will keep hoping that you will fail.”

  “One day you will be free, Neh. Even if we are the last two of our kind in existence, I will set you free.”

  She scoffed. “Look at us. We used to be gods. And now, we exist within the bodies of others, you lost your name, and I am imprisoned in the middle of the Void. Our lives are over, so let them go.”

  Lucas nodded. “You are right. We are not who we were, but I can fix it. I can make up for what I had caused.”

  Without a word, Nehamah rose and dove into the room to bring a stunning painting of mountains. “Do you remember this place?”

  The memory flashed before Lucas’ eyes. He tried to dismiss the thought, but couldn’t. “The Azure Mountains, the place where I hid my laboratory.”

  “The one that was found,” Nehamah pointed out. “The last time you tried to fix something, you killed billions, destroyed our home, nearly wiped my race from existence, and lost your name. I hope you will forgive me if I am reserved when you say you will fix something.”

  Lucas’ insides clenched while cold and emptiness clawed at his mind, devouring his heart. “You are right. I don’t have a good record of fixing things, but that doesn’t mean I will stop trying.”

  Nehamah shook her head, her features softening. “It’s so ironic. Even now, thousands of years later, for most of which you were tortured, you are the same man I married, the lowly human with dreams reaching far beyond his place in the natural order. Sometimes, I can’t comprehend how you can be so full of yourself.”

  Lucas chuckled. “It’s my best quality.”

  “I wouldn’t call not learning from your past a quality.”

  He shrugged, having no good retort.

  Her voice turned gentle, pleading. “This isn’t helping anything. You should do something useful, like finding yourself a new wife and forgetting about me. Sometimes, the best way to fix things is to let them be.”

  “I have found the best wife there is, so I do not need to search for more.”

  She suddenly became serious. “We are out of time.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Can you already hear the whispers?”

  “Yes. I am sorry, but the Red God’s whispers are all over my mind now. You have to leave and seal the barrier.”

  “Don’t be. It’s not your fault.” Lucas rose and flicked his wrist. The bag of books and a pile of painting supplies disappeared and reappeared beyond the glass wall while the painting Nehamah brought appeared in his hand.

  She sighed. “If only I were stronger.”

  “Then you wouldn’t be so gorgeous. I love you, Neh.”

  “Just… try not to kill their children. Please.”

  He nodded. “I will do what I can.” A tear slid down Lucas’ face as he opened the darkness before him and
left, sealing the barrier of blackness behind.

  He woke up back in reality, dried his tears, and headed toward Redwall.

  ***

  When he arrived at the designated location, a valley hidden between tall dunes of sand, the Palai soldiers were setting up the camp. Beneath the searing sun, he spared no time and walked straight to the main tent, ignoring the blistering wind that kept throwing sand into his face. Inside the tent stood Miranda and Merewen, who were searching through the freshly received maps.

  Lucas met their eyes, his gaze stone cold. “Report.”

  Miranda arched an eyebrow. “What the hell happened to you? You look like someone ripped the soul right out of you.”

  He shut her up with a single glare.

  Merewen took the word. “Xona was an absolute success, and our troops are en route to where they are supposed to be. Miranda somehow got the Greenheart of Xona from Salazar, and we are all itching to see what you plan to do in here because the city is unapproachable.”

  “Good work.” He nodded. “What do you mean by unapproachable?”

  Merewen cleared her throat. “Countless wolf riders and hundreds of wyvern riders are patrolling the near vicinity of the walls. There are personal checkups at the gate, and the arena complex has been turned into a fortress. We could also finally count the Slaver Union’s army. They stand at twelve thousand men, three thousand smaller demons and one and a half thousand large demons.”

  Lucas frowned. “Send a message to Nashimaeal, for he is to take command of all our forces and move them to Illysaeas, immediately. They are to fortify themselves within the city. The three of us stay here to strike tomorrow night. Rules of engagement are unrestricted, so we destroy everything that crosses our path, and I don’t care if all we leave behind is a smoldering ruin. I will go through the detailed plan tomorrow morning.”

  Miranda’s face turned into an awkward smile. “Nash will eat us alive when he finds out.”