Mirabel had been making his way to Seth since witnessing the first catastrophic attack launched by the Dark King's Soul Crusher. With his energy now almost entirely gone it proved a struggle defeating even common Draconians. Once arriving to his destination, his heart sank when laying eyes on Seth. The wounds were more than he’d feared.
“—Mirabel…”
“Please don’t talk, save your strength.” He knelt at his side. Never so much did Mirabel wish he’d been granted the gift of healing rather than Lightning. To merely look upon his fallen comrade tore his heart out.
“It is all right. Does not hurt,” Seth said, reading his thoughts.
Asiel soared down from the sky, landing in between the two.
“Asiel!” Mirabel pleaded, grabbing the silver bird's attention. “I do not know if you can understand me, but with all my spirit I beg of you to go and gather a healing leaf upon this mountain.” He stared deep into the eagle's eyes, hoping by now he might have learned to read minds and would understand the location of the field where the miraculous plants grew wild. “Please. Save my brother?”
Asiel gazed to Seth, made an unpleasant shriek and then returned to the air.
“Mirabel, it will not—will not—?
“Shhh, save your strength my friend.”
At that moment the enemy annihilated the rest of the soldiers on the battlefield and unfortunately, spotted Mirabel. They charged.
“Get out of here,” Seth whispered.
“I will not leave you here to die, not alone.”
When all hope seemed lost— out of nowhere stormed Nayland, the last warrior left on the field, charging right into the center of the Draconians, axe held high. He disappeared and reappeared in between them while viscously slaying over a dozen individuals.
Befuddled and enraged, the Draconians tried their hardest to slaughter him but only managed killing their own members. It seemed like trying to target a ghost. One moment he’s here, then the next, he’s over there.
With a final effort to slow their pace Nayland rode ahead, his stallion much faster than the enemies’, and cast a mighty wind at their front lines, causing them to tumble and scatter. Then he fled to Mirabel. “Get on!”
Mirabel picked Seth up and gently placed him over his shoulder. One last time, he glanced around for Darshun but instead saw thousands of Draconians charging them. He feared the worst.
“Come on!” Nayland shouted.
Mirabel climbed onto the horse and they retreated.
~~***~~
When the fighting first began, Darshun secretly disappeared in search of the lady Aurora, for he couldn't fathom the idea of her having become like one of the poor Zithelians. He looked in every log cabin and stable, desperately searching the rooms or any place one could hide, even under the beds. For perhaps hiding from the invaders she’d not yet become aware help had come. Sadly though, he did not find her. The tower possibly?
Carefully avoiding the battle, he made his way there, storming through the door only to find a stinking mound of corpses, some of them gruesomely hacked to pieces. The thought came to him that Aurora may be within the mound and with no hesitation he began ‘sifting’ through the bodies, tossing aside the dismembered parts as though they were wheat. Bits of flesh got stuck under his fingernails, blood and maggots falling onto his skin. He shook it off, all his thoughts were of his dearly beloved lady.
Relieved to find she wasn’t among the dead, he next ran upstairs to Adeleric's chambers, but again to no avail, the room seemed empty. He called out her name, “Aurora! Aurora!” No answer returned except the desperate echoes of his own voice. She was all he could think about nothing else entered his thoughts, not the battle taking place outside, not his father or uncle—nothing! Just her. And when she wasn’t amongst the city he found himself going mad, pulling at his hair, grinding his teeth madly. Trying to focus, he sat down at the top of the stairs and cupped his chin into his palms, pondering where she might be, considering possibility after possibility…an endless sea of speculation.
Eventually, he lost track of time and couldn’t remember how long he’d been sitting. “She is alive, that much I know. I can feel it. Wait—the forest, that’s it! She must have escaped. There’s no other explanation.” Like a rambunctious fool, he hurried out of the tower passing by hundreds of dead Cullach, then stepped through the front gate and was suddenly hit like a ton of bricks. Draconians were everywhere, slaying men by the second, men he recognized, the mayhem devastating.
“How did this happen?” he asked himself running a hand down the side of his face. “I—I do not understand. Death has come and I haven’t even drawn my sword once. No, I will not let it end like this. I will not!” With rage overflowing he stood ready to unleash his power.
All of a sudden, a feminine voice called out, “Darshun help me!”
“Lady Aurora!” he shouted. Forgetting all about the battle or even transforming, he stormed off while following her cry. It sounded like she might be in the meadow south of Zithel.
When he left the battlegrounds Captain Alaric happened to take notice. “Something’s wrong. Darshun wouldn't leave any battle. I must see what this is about.” He followed after him, hacking off the heads of two Draconians who stood in his way.
“Darshun help me, save me!” spoke the voice again in a dire state. “Please hurry!”
Running as fast as he could across the meadow, he saw what looked like an abandoned chariot. The cries of Aurora indeed came from that direction. She must be locked up within. Drawing closer, he realized it sat full of children most likely to be taken back for slaves. He looked past the bars, past the frightened little ones and she wasn’t there. The children were weeping, calling out for their fathers and mothers. “Where is Aurora, the lady welcomed into the city a few days ago?” Darshun asked.
“We don’t know,” cried a little boy. “They killed so many. Please help us?”
“I will, stand back.” He raised his sword to cut the bars when suddenly her voice shattered through his head, calling his name over and over again, sounding frightened at first, then angry even a little disappointed. It seemed to come from all directions. He covered his ears, not understanding what was going on. Darkness began to overtake him, an ocean of sorrow without explanation or logic. With every passing second, he grew more and more disoriented. Then, he sensed a figure, approaching fast from behind—an enemy no doubt. In a blind rage accompanied by fear, he turned around and stabbed his sword directly through someone’s stomach, that someone being Captain Alaric! Immediately, Darshun froze in a state of unbelief, denial of what he’d just done. It could not have happened. No, he was dreaming.
But he wasn’t and he knew he wasn't when Alaric just gazed at him in confusion, then fell upon his back and blinked no more.
Mythaen’s uncle, Elwin’s uncle died at his hands. And why? To make matters worse an arrow pierced through his right side, knocking him back against the chariot of weeping children. His blood began to boil and his strength decreased. He pulled the arrow out and a green glob fell from the tip. “Poison,” he whispered.
Then, the shooter approached with a band of Draconians. It was a gladiatrix who held the bow, evident by sparkling dark-blue sapphire gems outlining her breasts upon fancy armor, trotting on a large mare.
The helm only revealed a set of eyes, he could not see her face, but a black crown rested atop her head and that answered whom she was, the Dark Queen of Asgoth, Queen Talvenya. Darshun remembered hearing about her great power. Olchemy had warned him. When she came closer, he struggled to stand but could only make it to his knees. Determined to fight, he reached for his sword and awaited her company.
She stopped a few paces before him, staring down with a cold gaze and she emitted a familiar scent carried by the wind blowing his way, the scent of lilacs and roses. She took off the helmet and revealed her face.
Darshun nearly went into shock. Past those violet eyes and long raven hair he saw Aurora, felt Aurora. He was n
ot mistaken—she now showed her true form, the Dark Queen Talvenya. No other being would recognize this except him, since he’d grown close to her, slept with her, loved her more than anything.
She set the bow down and held up her staff with a grin. Clearly, she seemed intent to cast a spell, perhaps set his body aflame, incinerating him to dust.
Let her. He did not care, for a sense of hopelessness overtook any last remaining free will, and so he remained on his knees before her, still shocked in disbelief.
A grayish-blue wave of light shot out of the staff, avoiding Darshun, and struck something beyond him. At that moment, the weeping children went silent, still—their pain erased.
It finally and utterly dawned on him and Darshun feared the worst. Turning around, he saw that they’d all been turned to stone, even the tears along their cheeks. They were whom the Queen was targeting. His heart sank. How could one be so cruel? Hope was indeed gone, abandoned. Darshun let go of the sword and fell onto his face beside Captain Alaric, which he himself just killed.
“Toss him into the chariot,” Talvenya commanded her tone strict and dominant.
The Draconians grabbed his shoulders, dragged him over the grass and threw him in, slamming the door in his face. Darshun rested his head against the steel bars, looking out at the Queen with eyes of sorrow.
She stared back, smiling crudely seeming to enjoy her victory over him. “You are mine now Darshun,” she purred, then turned around swiftly and returned to Zithel, the city now in flames.
Darshun could have sworn he heard his father calling out his name more than once, but it did not matter—no strength seemed to be left in him. Never, had he gotten to unleash it either. Shajin Island now seemed all for nothing— a waste! While the woman whom he loved, whom he wanted for a bride, the one he’d revealed secrets to, secrets of war strategies and information about the Wizard Crystals of the Elements, was no other than the Dark Queen of Asgoth. He remembered his father's words, “Be careful not to get too close to her, you know her not…the Dark appears in many forms.”
Mirabel again was right. Now, because of his doubt and carelessness, the people of Zithel were slaughtered and all seemed lost.
With the poison taking its full effect, he fell unconscious.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Lady of Light
Gradually, Darshun awoke, finding himself in a dark and lonely room. He seemed to be pinned against a cold stonewall having his arms and legs bound with chains connected to the rock. His body felt severely sore, each and every muscle while his stomach grew nauseous and spirit weak. He knew not where he might be neither how much time passed since the siege of Zithel.
Then footsteps were approaching, three individuals. Two walked loud and clumsy, the third fragile and light with clicks like a woman’s shoe heels. They seemed to be coming down an outer hallway. Suddenly, a door swung open and in walked two Cullach carrying torches. They mounted the torches to the wall, lighting up the room, revealing its horrific sights. Like Darshun, there’d been people imprisoned there before, about a dozen or so, chained against the stone left to die. Except now they were skeletons. Would that be his fate as well?
Now the third individual walked in and to Darshun’s surprise—and disgust, it was the lady Aurora, or the Dark Queen of Asgoth, Talvenya.
She wore a long purple silk gown, sheer-sleeved with a silver chain-link belt bearing the image of a serpent for its buckle. She walked in black leather boots with at least five inch spiked heels, long, straight raven hair hung to her waist and a crown sat on her head. She approached him, seductively smiling her lips painted black. “My dear Darshun. I’m glad to see you’re finally awake.”
“Where—am I?”
“You are in Asgoth, inside of Castle Volborg, my very own fortress.” She took her finger and gently moved it back and forth under his chin.
He could feel her long, sharp fingernail lightly scraping his skin and she gave off a presence of evil he’d never before felt. It felt difficult to fathom this creature as the same woman he’d made fond memories with atop Mundoria Mountain. To think he'd made love to her—he wanted to vomit!
“My my, that poison arrow tip really did you in. I began to worry about you my poor man. I bet your mind is just filled with questions.” She put her back to him and paced off a few feet, only to face him again with a harsh gaze. “Did you really think your people would stand against the strength of Asgoth? The powers we possess go beyond what you can even imagine. All of your efforts to stop the New World were in vain. And because of your folly the people you tried to protect have been destroyed…though their end was inevitable.”
“What have you done with my father?”
“Ah, the great Mirabel is now nothing more than a handful of ash blown away in the wind. You see, after your people were slaughtered my King commanded our soldiers to burn what was left of Zithel. Those who tried to escape through the forest were caught, slain and thrown into the burning city. If you were to see it now you’d find only ashes and charred stone.”
“I—don’t believe you.”
She laughed. “It doesn’t matter what you believe, fact is fact.”
“Aurora, how can you be so ruthless?”
“Oh, that’s right. ‘Aurora.’ The face you knew me as. My real name is Talvenya and from now on…you will refer to me as ‘My Queen.’ ”
“Never, I will never call you Queen or submit to your will.”
“I have already broken your will Darshun. Whether you desire it or not, I own you. I control you. You are my slave.”
“I am not!” With what little strength he possessed he tried breaking the chains to strike her, but couldn’t. His body felt thrashed. In a way, Talvenya was right because of her powers of seduction she did control him. She’d broken him and as pathetic as it might be, Darshun knew this, felt this—still lusting after Aurora, secretly begging for another night with her. At the same time Darshun wanted to kill her. An inner struggle raged, like two sides of himself fighting the other—vengeance against lust. With a resulting feeling of anger, hopelessness, bitterness and depression forever bound within his soul. Still, he must to try to resist. “I am a Nasharin, a member of a warrior race. I won’t—”
“Nasharin nothing!” she shouted, shutting up his 'speech. “I could have wiped you or your people out any moment of my choosing. You talk about your race being so great, so powerful, so terrifying. Let me show you true power!”
The room began to tremble and the Cullach cowered into a corner, as if they knew what she might do.
Talvenya grew in size, purple flames danced upon her as a cloak. Her hair became fire, eyes darkened while a gray whirlwind spun around her.
Darshun never felt something so dreadful and powerful. Then again, he wasn’t himself. Nevertheless, her mere force seemed astounding, turning the skeletons chained against the wall to dust.
“This is my power, my true essence.” Her voice thundered. “I am a Goddess with no equal. Do you now realize how pointless your efforts were? Fool! I have reduced the greatest of warriors to ashes, turned Giants and Titans to stone. Even you, being a Nasharin I could crush with one blow, melt with a simple blast of fire. Your Transformation on the other hand, was pitiful! Mere child's play.”
Darshun trembled before her, believing she spoke the truth. Whatever resistance he might have left, she now demolished completely. He lowered his head. It was over.
As though sensing his humility the—‘Goddess’ seemed pleased and she became herself once again. The chaos settled down. “Submission is wise my slave. It is good that you know your place and are not so stupid after all.” She walked a bit closer to him, her mood calmed. “Darshun Darshun, oh how easy it was to seduce you,” she purred. “That first night we had together in the mountain, I could sense feelings of doubt flowing through your spirit, unsure of your own being. It was then I realized you’d be the puppet I would control. That was why I wanted you to remain in your ‘great’ Transformation, to attack the vi
tal part of your being. For surely, you did not think I was truly impressed, did you?” She let out a cold laugh.
Darshun flinched at her words and felt more shame.
“My song and dance was my very spell being cast, along with the passion. That was my ‘bite’ my pet. From that moment on you belonged to me. And now that you have discovered such horrid failure due to your own course of actions, your will is forever gone, shattered. Ha! I never thought a Nasharin would be so easy to seduce! I dare hope your people were not all like you, weak minded. Then again, I am a Goddess, now aren't I?”
Unsure whether it might even be a question or not, he kept his head down and remained silent.
“Mmm yes, you told me everything I needed to know. Retrieving the crystals was only a matter of time. Poor King Adeleric and his soldiers never stood a chance.”
He raised his face. “Adeleric, what happened to him?”
She formed the image of ashes in her palm…Vibrant blue ashes. “I blew him away,” she answered, exhaling a breath, the ashes blowing onto Darshun’s face.
Trembling from the chill, Darshun didn’t bother asking the meaning of those words, nor ponder the suffering poor Adeleric most likely went through. “What of the people of Mundoria Mountain?”
“Never knew them…a mere decoy to deceive you.”
“So, everything was a lie?”
“Not exactly. The story about me as a little girl, bound to an old frail branch hanging above a pit full of dogs carried some truth. Do you remember? That story gained you my trust; enough to reveal the strategies you’d set in motion for the crystals. Interesting thing is the young girl wasn’t I but a member of another race Asgoth was at war with long ago. And after my King got what he wanted he cast her into the pit anyway. Her screams of pain were fabulous.”
Crossing Forbidden Lines (Guardian Series Book 2) Page 8
