The Last Battle Of The Star Swords

by Dale Broda, Jr

couldn’t help but admire her figure. Even in this state of mind. Even this close to death. Even with Selene laying there, the love of my life, my one and only, even with her empty shell there. I am still a man. And I see with my eyes the terrible beauty before me.

  She was smaller than me. A good hand shorter and to any fool, almost child like in her features. Very sharp features. Slanted, cat like eyes and that inhumanly pale, perfect skin. Her figure was that of any man’s dream. Even now, covered in blood with her once immaculate dark red armor in tatters, she could have been the heroine of any bard’s tale. Her hair, her eyes… those were not of this world. She caught me studying her. She smiled, shifting slightly into a pose that was both threatening and inviting and so beautiful. All that at once, somehow all at the same time.

  She was not my Selene, no, she was the very image of perfection. I had to admit that her beauty was unmatched. After studying me in return, she nodded over her shoulder, her ember eyes looking around us.

  “This is what freedom of choice brings you. This is what your precious freedom has wrought.” She looked back at me and this time, a tear did slide down her flawless check. Leaving a small streak though the dirt and blood. “Is this what you consider a good thing? I have never understood this part of you. Freedom. It is always freedom to you. Look around. Take a good look.” Despite myself, I did. It was a horrible sight. All of her people, countless thousands, had fallen. All of my people, the army Selene and I had gathered, had fallen. Who knew how many exactly. Death. Everywhere I looked was death. Human bodies cut in ways that were too horrible to look at for long. Human suffering at its worst. Horses mangled. Battle hounds destroyed.

  “Freedom brings you death.” She lifted Daystar easily now, moving slowly towards me. Her ember eyes locked onto mine. I couldn’t look away. “How many wars have you fought in, Andorian?”

  “I…”

  “How many lives have you seen torn away in those wars? How many futures destroyed? Hope lost. Dreams broken. Long before I came here. Right now, somewhere in this world, right at this very moment someone is losing their life over a little gold.”

  “…you…”

  “Somewhere in this world, at this moment, women are being raped. Women are being killed.” She tilted her head slightly as she stepped closer. As if listening to the tragedies as they happened. Her ember eyes shimmered with more unshed tears.

  “Children, Andorian. Children at this very moment are being beaten. Killed. And yes… even raped.” Her eyes had me frozen in place. “Can’t you feel it, Andorian? Can you feel the pain? The suffering? The pure horror of it? I can, Andorian. I can.” And it did, indeed, look like she could. The pain seemed to haunt her. “Now, how many families have been destroyed because of this battle alone? How many friends did you bring to slaughter?” I tried to open my mouth, knowing she was right. Still, I had to try. Her way was wrong.

  “My way is wrong?” She shook her head sadly as she came ever closer. “Why? How so? This freedom you speak so highly of is nothing but fantasy to begin with. You have no real freedom. You own nothing. You pay taxes to your kings for the land that you live on…yes? So, how then do you truly own it? You think you are using your own freedom when you make a choice? Is it not a choice you make while following a strict set of laws? Some have a different moral code than you. Some lands have different laws. It is freedom in those lands that lets them kill innocent children. Rape them. Sacrifice them to Gods that no longer care. Do you think that is right? Is that freedom for the good? Would that be the freedom you would want to be allowed?”

  “No…” It wasn’t right. She was dodging the point. Side stepping it as easily as a fencer moving aside a clumsy thrust. Explaining it in a perfectly reasonable way. But at its heart, she was still saying that humans should not be allowed to choose their own path. For good, or for evil. That was freedom at its best and worst. Freedom to choose was what made a human… free. To steal or to kill. To save or to worship. To love or to hate. Those were freedoms. Those were human freedoms that she would remove.

  “Your so called freedom has lead to the near death of this entire world.” She shook her head sadly, her fiery hair moving slowly on its own. “It will lead to the end of this world in time.” She was so passionate about this. As if she truly cared. I had my doubts. No one wanted to become a benevolent God. She wanted power, pure and simple. “No. You’re wrong. Tell me something Andorian, where is the Dark Forest of Ando?”

  “It’s…”

  “Gone. Yes. Cut down to make way for a kingdom that no longer exists. How many creatures died then, eh? How many races of non-human were killed then for your human freedom? Do you even understand what was lost? Can you even guess?”

  “I…”

  “You don’t know do you? No. No human could know. I do. I do know, Andorian. In that forest alone entire races were wiped out in the blink of an eye. Because of humans. Your freedom to destroy. Races that had cures for some of your worst diseases. Races that brought fresh air and rain to the land. All gone. For your freedoms.” Her eyes were so sad.

  “Some of the most peaceful, beautiful creatures on this world were destroyed. Where are the Faehy? Those littlefolk that lived for so long and brought their special flowers to every field and home they could. They are gone. Gone because of your freedom to choose. And you chose not to help them when they begged. Don’t you miss the flowers that only they could bring into being? Don’t you miss their happy little laughter. Their jolly little dances?”

  I do. But that is beside the point. Why is she not understanding what it means to be human? To make choices and live… or die… from them? Not all choices are easy and not all are the right ones, sure enough, yet we could choose. And that was the key. The freedom of it.

  “And the Shary? Those ghostly, divine night walkers that could grant humans life everlasting and bring them into a plane of existence that was filled with love and friendship. Where are they, Andorian?”

  “Gone” That was a sad loss. I can’t deny it. Closing my eyes, I could still see them. I had a few Shary friends once upon a time and they were so wonderful. Friendly, caring. They helped those in need and came to children at night to ease their dreams and tell them tales of fancy. Tales of love and loss and found again. Tales of hope and dreams or better things. They came at night to fend off any nightmare that would come to claim a child. They were a wonderful race. Too wonderful. They were slowly wiped away as people grew jealous of them.

  Not them in truth, but their gift. They gave their gift to some, a very few, while refusing others. The nights were not the same now. Now children were left defenseless. Now children would never hear those wonderful tales told in such soft, warm voices.

  “You see my point. I know you do.” I blinked my eyes open as I heard her step. She was easily in range, her deadly sword still held lightly before her. I had almost fallen asleep! Was I that tired? No, no I could not die without taking her with me! Snarling, I tore Nightstar from the ground, flinging dirt into her face and attacked with all the might I had.

  She gasped, blinking the dirt away, trying to see. My blows were blocked on occasion, but ah yes, some landed. As the fight had been going on for so long now, more of my blows landed. And more! She was hardly able to block them. She let out little sounds of pain as Nightstar cut into her exposed, once flawless skin. Only a few strokes landed past her guard and her armor. Still, I made them count.

  There! An opening! I stabbed towards her exposed breast, I felt a massive blow to my back. Damn the Gods! I missed the mark. Nightstar slipped up and over her shoulder, slicing away hair but otherwise not hitting anything. I saw Daystar coming at me and knew my death was near. I still had a trick or two. I twisted. Daystar tore through my gut, but not as she would have liked. Daystar cut me and deep, but it was not the killing strike it could have been.

  As I was falling, I somehow managed to bring Nightstar around for a massive head strike that could not miss. Victory! I could already see her ember eyes wid
en in shock.

  She knew it.

  I knew it.

  It was over.

  What!? No…no it wasn’t. I don’t know what happened, at the last second, instead of cleaving her head in two as intended, Nightstar twisted and just smacked her on the side of the head with the flat of the blade. Damn! As I fell, I saw her fly a short distance away, tumbling limply into a pile of dead men.

  I lay there gasping. Could I go and finish her? Was it over? Lifting my head hurt. Sent waves of burning ice through me. I fought through it. I had to see.

  There.

  Her motionless form.

  My hopes lifted further when I saw her hands. Daystar was gone! Where? I searched quickly. There! There!! Now was the time to end this. Now was the time to strike! Daystar had flown from her limp grip, it lay among the other bloodied weapons and dirt and what had been people. The glowing spark of it was gone. Its magic useless without a hand to hold it.

  Now all I had to do was move. Move. Move! Come on… you old shell move. I couldn’t move. I have to. I can’t… I must. The strange sound I heard in the air was a mix between a child’s whine and a primitive groan. It sounded unearthly. It was a shock when I realized it must be coming from me. Rolling onto my stomach, the pain ebbed away and everything began