The Last Battle Of The Star Swords

by Dale Broda, Jr

either shown the error of your ways and made to adapt, or be killed for the greater good.

  Nightstar trembled in my hands. My knuckles popped as I clenched my fist.

  If only I had acted sooner. If only, after stealing this sword from her grasp I had immediately set about attacking her in her weakened condition. If only I had attacked then. None of this would have happened. Instead, I too wanted peace. I negotiated with her on many nights. Almost every night in fact. Just the two of us.

  She would come dancing into my room at the oddest of times, her ember eyes burning into me with a heat that cut right to my loins. A swirling cloud of color would deposit her, always naked or nearly so given the sheerness of her red gown. Right into my very bedroom she would come and there we would talk.

  She was such an angel to behold. Beautiful beyond words. A warm glow around her that could thaw the coldest of hearts. Even her eyes were enough to make most men melt. And it had nothing to do with the fact they were burning embers that seemed able to see right through you. Her skin was almost unnaturally pale, though not sickly looking. She really did look like a Goddess of old. Under all that beauty and kindness, she was far more deadly than any man. She never tried to seduce me. She knew my heart belonged to Selene.

  Yet, even without trying, her very presence was enough to make you want to worship her.

  To fight was foolish. She had told me that over and over again. Her sword, the brother sword, the burning sword called Daystar, was an even match for my own sword. Which was as it was meant to be. The two were equal in every way. The two were also meant to be one. Siblings in a magical way. And just as in the normal world, brother and sister were always more powerful when they fought as one. The swords, however, they were supposed to be one. Combined they would be unmatched. She told me all this without needing to. I could read the signs easily enough. It was meant to be, she said. However, I also had an insight into the swords. My own at least.

  They might be destined to become one, I’d accepted that as fact, but every time in their long, long history when they had joined, they had brought nothing but destruction to the places and times they were in. She had also always told me it would end this way if I did not submit. She had always warned me the loss of life would be great. Looking around at our place of battle, there was nothing but burning piles of various things sending clouds of smoke floating slowly upward.

  The remains of men and women were strewn about in numbers beyond counting.

  I now know she had been right. I had hoped against hope that she would be wrong. I had preyed for whatever Gods remained to give me the strength to win this war. I guess none cared. Are we that far from their minds now? Did humans drag themselves into such a deep, dark pit that the good Gods no longer cared? She had told me this would end in death, I had guessed as much. Had hoped against it, preyed for it not to be true, but in my heart of hearts I knew she had spoken the truth. It had felt true. Indeed, looking about, it was as she had said it would be.

  “I am not such easy meat as you like to think.” Using Nightstar, I was able to pull myself to my feet. My body was dead. I could not even feel my many wounds, though I knew they were there. I could not feel the hot blood trickling down into my armor, I just knew it was. This was my last battle. Of that I had no doubt. I was not an old man by most standards, nor was I as young as I had been when I had first taken Nightstar. Ah, if only I had attacked then.

  The past is usually full of regrets when one is close to death.

  “Poor Andorian.” Her voice was alarmingly powerful again. Powerful and seductive and filled with genuine concern. That was her most dangerous attribute. She was doing what she thought was best. She was fighting for a world she thought would bring only peace and love to we mortal folk. I’m not sure exactly what she was. A mortal? A human? Most certainly not. Her ember eyes burned with ages of knowledge. Her fiery hair shimmered and floated about with or without wind. Streaks of flame danced down its length. Reds, yellows, oranges. Every strand seemed to shimmer in its own way.

  Her impossibly beautiful face and figure had been in my dreams for decades now. I had come to expect her visits. Even anticipate them. Having her so near, even knowing her intentions and loving my Selene… I am a man after all. With all that implies. Her inhuman beauty, her low, smoldering voice that would soak though your body and make you tingle all over, leaving you with feelings of lust and euphoria.

  Well, no man could find that unappealing. To have her direct all that at me. Well, to say I did not enjoy it would be a lie. And much to my shame, I could have probably killed her on many occasions when she came without Daystar.

  I never did. Why was that?

  Now here we were, our armies dead, my numb legs barely supporting my weight, and her, standing among the dead, looking as fresh as the day the battle had begun. I smiled at her. I knew she was in pain. I knew she was tired. But to someone not familiar with her, they would see only strength. I could see her weakened condition, though little good it did me in my own state of numbed weakness.

  Her ember eyes glittered as she took in my smile. Then, slowly, her luscious lips curved into a soft smile. Much to my shame, I had longed to feel those warm, inhuman lips against my own. Even now, it sent a shiver through me. Funny, the things that go though your mind and body when you know you’re going to die.

  “You know me well, Andorian. You see my weakened state.” She let Daystar dip to the ground, its tip landed with an impossibly heavy thud that shook the ground under my feet. “Yes. I am weary of this. However, you are much more weakened than I.” I tried to raise Nightstar up in a defensive angle, but at the moment, could not. She stretched her one arm over her head, yawning widely. Her sharpened white teeth caught the sun, reflecting it in an interesting way that drew my eye. She licked a bit of her own blood from her lip, sending more shivers through my lower regions.

  “You’ve longed to be in my arms for so long. Why must you continue this to the inevitable end?” She was right of course. Any man would have fallen at her feet just to be able to kiss any part of that perfect, inhuman body. But I had been held in check. I had been saved. My sister. My loving sister had always kept my mind straight. Kept me focused. And then there had been Selene. Selene and my sister, how they gave me the strength to resist I do not know, but they did. And I had.

  My eyes drifted over to her. Her small, battered body. I would not shed a tear. No. Selene would not have wanted that. She died as she wanted to die. Fighting. She had killed more than anyone else I think. Yet in the end, even her amazing strength and skill had not been enough. She did not go down with those that killed her. No. She had stood over their corpses, shouting out her scream of victory in a long, fading roar. When her last breath was exhausted, then, and only then, did she fall with those she had beaten.

  My roar of anger had been terrible. My attacks cut through all that remained as I rushed to her. Even Daystar was knocked aside as I rushed to her. Even before kneeling down, I knew she was gone. Her eyes were empty. Her spirit, after so much suffering and fighting and yes, a little joy as well, her spirit had finally left this hell of a world. I didn’t shed a tear. I don’t think I did. But I did stand, and I did turn, and I did attack with all that I had.

  After countless days, battling across the entire field, stepping on what remained of once living men and women, plodding through deep, bloody mud…here we were. Somehow back where we started. Selene’s mortal remains. Days and days of fighting only to end up back here. I guess it was the Gods way of telling me I would die at Selene’s side?

  “She did not have to die.” Those ember eyes were looking down at Selene as well. “I might have detested her. I knew she was the reason you were so strong in your fight against my advances.” Her eyes met mine. They were burning embers from some other worldly place, yet they were filled with tears. Human looking tears. “I feel for you, Andorian. No man should suffer as you have. No man should carry the burdens you have for so long. And this, added to so much worldly
weight on you. This, a love that was never returned, can never be returned… there is nothing sadder in all the worlds.” She looked back down at Selene. “Take heart Andorian, she loved you as best she could. Some things, when broken, can not be healed. Mortals are strong... but so very fragile. I only want to save your kind, Andorian. I only want to help.” She looked at me then. Her voice soft.

  “I can not bring back that which has passed into a better place. I am no death Goddess. But I can stop all this. I can bring peace to your kind. No more wars. No more hate. No more rapes or murder or theft or need. All will have what they desire. All I ask in return, is for you to hand over Nightstar.” She held her hand out to me, her ember eyes filled with sadness and a promise of better days. “Hand it over and your kind will have everything it ever desired.”

  “The cost...” My voice was so low. My energy was nearly gone. I must fight on. I am going to die, I know that, but I must try and take her with me. “…the cost is too high.”

  “Cost?” Her ember eyes narrowed in true curiosity. She slowly withdrew her hand. “Are you speaking of this so called… freedom? Freedom of choice?” She stood slowly to her full height, looking around her. I