by Ivory Autumn
The Fallen’s darkness coursed in around him, loud, and violent, tearing at him in discordant, clashing tones. The Fallen drew back his whip one last time. Andrew’s eyes filled with fear, not for himself, but for Freddie and Ivory. In a moment of desperation, he pulled himself back up, putting himself directly into harm's way.
The whip cracked over Andrew, in a blinding flash of light, knocking the faltering sword from Andrew’s hands. The air whooshed from Andrew’s lungs. His breath was sucked from his nostrils. The sword’s light was suddenly consumed by the shroud of darkness, lost somewhere in the shadows. Andrew cried in pain as the strength of the sword left him. It was as if The Fallen had ripped away one of his limbs---something that had bonded completely to his own body. He instantly felt his strength ebb out of him. He was limp, and lifeless, weak, drained. The fatal wound The Fallen had given him only days before, rushed to greet him, like a deadly disease no longer in remission. The ice, heat, and pressure of The Fallen had ground him down and made all his muscles and bones feel like jelly. He groped in the darkness, reaching for his sword. He thought he could see its dim outline through the mist, just inches from his fingers, beckoning him to just grab hold.
Andrew cried out, reaching for the sword, just barely touching the hilt as The Fallen caught hold of him and lifted him high into the air, taking him far away from it. He called out in desperation, struggling against The Fallen’s grasp, craning his neck, struggling to see his friends were safe.
“Did you think that it would be that easy?” The Fallen bellowed, sending a blast of ice and heat pressing down on Andrew. “That I’d let you destroy me? I who have brought the nations of the world to their knees. You are nothing. Nothing compared to my brilliance, nothing!”
The Fallen’s darkness swirled around him in blinding clouds of extreme heat, cold, darkness, and light, mixing together like toxic rings of smoke and ash from some distant planet. Andrew could feel his senses dull and his strength wane. The pressure from The Fallen’s breath slammed him like the fiercest wind, like the hottest flame, like the coldest ice, like the bitterest blackness. He cried out, feeling as though his flesh was being melted from his bones. The light from his skin dimmed and flickered, as The Fallen breathed in, sucking his life from him.
“Stop!” Freddie’s voice cried below them. “STOP!”
The Fallen paused and glanced down, his face contracting with rage.
“Stop?” The Fallen repeated. “You really think you can stop me?”
“Yes,” Freddie shouted. “I do!”
The Fallen looked amused. “You lowly human! What can you do to stop me? What is one insignificant soul compared to my eternal power?”
“He’s more than you’ll ever be,” Andrew cried, feeling his bones break and crack as The Fallen squeezed him, blasting him with tidal waves of darkness that crashed around him unmercifully.
“You really should have never returned,” The Fallen thundered, “This time I won’t make it as painless as before.”
Andrew could feel the darkness crushing him, pulling away at him, trying to grind him into powder. His eyes filled with pain, and agony, but he did not cry out. He struggled against The Fallen, using every ounce of his strength to free himself. Through the darkness, through the pain, he thought he saw a small shaft of light flit and twist through the shadows, like a white feather blown by the wind. It settled on his shoulder, and whispered in his ear. The voice he heard was soft, powerful, and piercing. Was it a beam of light, of hope, an unheard, unsaid word that had found its way to him? He did not know. But what it spoke and what he felt, filled his soul with brilliant light for one moment, and a powerful peace that gave him greater hope than he had ever known. His eyes glistened with the hope and truth spoken to him. He now knew what he must do in order to complete his quest. He must give his life. The Fallen mustn’t take it. He would let go, and give it freely. Then when light was given, could it only expand. This was the last thing he must give. He instantly stopped struggling. A great peace settled over him, as a new, and renewed hope burned inside his heart, a hope, stronger, brighter, softer, and far more beautiful than ever before. It lit his skin with one last brilliant surge, contrasting Andrew to The Fallen in stark difference.
“Take it, Freddie,” Andrew’s fading voice cried, as The Fallen held him in his clutches. “Take the sword. I will not be the one to take it to its mark. Take it. I see clearer now. There can never just be one. And if there is one, that one can never be the one unless he gives up everything he has. That light, if it is real light, must give, and expand, and live on, and never die. As one candle fades, it passes its light to another so that the world will never grow dark. You bear in your hands my same mark. You must take the sword and finish what I have started. You have always had the same purpose as I…and I pass the flame to you. Take the sword and finish the quest,” Andrew cried, his voice bright, and clear. “FINISH IT!” Andrew’s voice cracked, then faded as The Fallen breathed in a last vacuuming breath over Andrew, sucking the life out of him completely.
“Andrew!” Freddie cried, “ANDREW!” Freddie stared up at Andrew, his eyes wide and fearful. Andrew’s skin had turned the color of ash. The life and light in Andrew had gone out.
It was the end of all the ends. The world would never see another morning again.
Chapter Fifty
The Falling of The Fallen
“Ha, ha, ha, ha!” The Fallen howled, waving Andrew’s form in front of Freddie like a limp, rag doll, beaming out light and darkness over his army below the tower. “Behold,” his thunderous voice called over the land. “The mighty warrior of light is DEAD! DEAD! Fight, ye flickering fools, but your hope will soon go out!”
He laughed once more, a laugh that was filled with ugliness, and disregard for everything that was good and worthwhile. Then, as if he was tossing a piece of trash, he let Andrew’s body fall from his dark clutches, onto the cracked tower floor.
A rumble sounded as Andrew’s body hit the ground. The glowing blade of Andrew’s fallen sword faded into a dark, dead, gray sheen.
In a flash, something darted beneath The Fallen, and snatched up Andrew’s sword.
“That’s a good boy,” Ivory said, her voice ridden with urgency. She looked at Talic, and then to Freddie. “Good boy, Talic. GOOD BOY!”
Talic now held the sword. He looked stronger, angry and powerful. He lifted the sword, heavy as it was, looking quite terrible and commanding, even for a small creature such as himself.
Ivory stood not far off, motioning for Talic to run. “Take it to Freddie,” she screamed. “Take it to Freddie!”
Talic stood there for a moment, undecided, his eyes shining and his body quivering.
“You leeching, traitorous shadow!” The Fallen thundered, smacking his dark whip against Talic so hard that it broke the long dark chain he was bound to.
Talic let out a pitiful cry, and ran towards Freddie, dragging the sword. He let out a terrified cry, dumping it in front of Freddie’s feet. The second he let go of the sword, his face changed, and his animal-like features faded. His long whiskers and ears melted away. It was as if he had become the old Talic he had been before. His eyes were lit with confusion, and fear.
“Get behind me, Talic!” Freddie commanded, picking up the sword, and holding it aloft.
“Who do you think you are?” The Fallen bellowed, glaring down at Freddie. “There was only one who could destroy me. And that one is dead. DEAD!” He pointed to Andrew’s motionless body. “Do you not see?”
A terrible all-consuming anger filled Freddie, as he saw Andrew’s limp body crumpled on the ground, lifeless and used up.
He knew he could never do what Andrew had asked. It wasn’t within his power. He was just an ordinary person. Not special. Yet knowing all this, he still picked up the sword. He stared at its hilt. The blade did not glow, nor shine. All he saw in it was his own gray reflection, cast in The Fallen’s repulsive light. He felt nothing. It felt as any other weapon. He felt no surges
of power, save his own faltering courage, and the strength Andrew’s last words gave to him.
“Who do you think you are to hold such a weapon?” The Fallen shouted, his voice sending swirling bits of light and darkness surging around Freddie. “You are ordinary. A simple spark of life, nothing more.”
“Who am I?” Freddie repeated, slowly looking up as if startled by the answer he felt welling inside of him. “Who am I?” he repeated, more to himself than anyone else. Andrew was right, he did have the same strange diamond marks burned into his hands by default. Somehow they had burned through the rope that he was supposed to be hanged by. Was this not assurance enough? His eyes lit up. His face grew stern. He gripped the sword, suddenly realizing something powerful and great. Andrew was right. True light never dies, but endures, grows, expands, doubles, and triples, when it is given, and shared. It never diminishes. When one falls, someone else must pick up the torch. Light passes from one to another, to all. Andrew had told him this. This was the message of the sword, of light and truth. It lives on forever. He looked to Ivory, to Talic, then to the army of light battling below him. He represented all of them. He represented Andrew and every other good soul that had lived and died for the cause. That was all. Nothing more, nothing less.
Below him, he could see the flickering outlines of those who still battled the darkness. Though a cloud of doubt had passed over them, still hope’s light burned true. He stepped towards The Fallen, his face alight with a new inner knowledge, a greater glow of hope glistening on his face and skin.
“It doesn’t matter who you think I am. Only that I know who I am! Andrew has passed the flame to me! So that makes me your worst enemy!” The moment he said the words, a seeping, ebbing flow of energy passed from the sword into his hands and arm. It was strong, unclouded, and bright. It was so slight that he was unsure where it came from, and what he was feeling. Like a new branch grafted into a tree, the sword’s power began to grow. Yet to those who saw him, it was undetected. Only he knew it, only he felt it rising and falling like the waves of the sea. He began to see glimpses of what Andrew had felt. He saw flashes of people, thousands of people, brilliant, good, people, their hearts throbbing their voices calling, their strength, their courage, their love, their faith, seeping into him. Even in Andrew’s death, their hope had swelled, and surged through him. The feeling was overwhelming, overpowering, intoxicating, almost too much for him to bear. The sword felt uncommonly heavy and strong. It was too much for him. His vision blurred, and he nearly fell. But he stood strong, and kept hold of the sword. Though it still did not glow, nor give any inclination that it had somehow bonded to him, he knew a truth no one else did.
“Enemy?” The Fallen purred, his voice dripping in honey and chocolate. “Why can we not now be friends? It was he who was my enemy,” he pointed to Andrew. “Not you. You’ve seen the light I bear. I am not so bad. In your heart of hearts you know this. Why do you not let me help you see who I really am, and what you could really be?” His voice was thick and soft, ridden with rivulets of light that chimed together like glass, shrouding Freddie in a mesmerizing veil of light.
“No!” Freddie shouted, shaking off the cunning, caressing splinters of light that swirled around him like butterflies. “I know who you are. And I know who I am!”
The Fallen’s eyes flamed, and wafts of shadows broiled and swarmed around him. “Who you are means nothing to me because that is all you are. A sputtering spark that will be nothing but fuel to me, just as the thousands battling below us. One by one you will die, and one by one you will fall. Worship me. Bow before my might, and I will let you live!”
“Never!” Freddie shouted, pushing bravely in front of Talic, and Ivory. “NEVER!”
“Never?” The Fallen repeated. He narrowed his dark eyes, gazing from Freddie to Talic, to Ivory. “You have condemned yourselves!” He stretched himself out as if to receive them into his darkness. “Come, if you will not embrace my darkness, then it will embrace you.”
Freddie’s face filled with light. He raised his sword and stared at The Fallen. Every minute, the power within the sword grew, and swelled inside his chest. It expanded his vision, and enlarged his courage. “At least I am a spark. Of that you cannot even boast. You are only a Fallen Star. Your light has already gone out. It seems you have fallen very far from where you once stood.”
The Fallen smoldered in mingled layers of vapors of darkness and light. “It is you who will fall, you and all your kind. Mankind has always been a fallen race, and always will be. Come, come. If you will not worship me, you will fuel me and my void, for I will absorb your pitiful sparks and use your life to prolong my own!”
He swirled and howled, opening a frightening, dark gap in his outstretched body. The second the hole was created inside himself, a frightening sucking howl moaned over the tower, drawing Freddie, Ivory and Talic into his outstretched gaping folds.
“For Andrew, for those who have hope in their hearts, for the world, and above all---for truth!”” Freddie lifted the sword, and moved himself in front of his friends, and ran to greet the powerful pull of darkness. “You have polluted the world long enough. You shall fall, oh Fallen one. And the sound of it will be heard throughout the world!”
The Fallen roared out, enraged and drunk with his own borrowed power. “You think you can destroy me with that dead trinket? Come, and I will show you how powerless you really are!” Shadows rippled through the air, sucking Freddie into the gaping darkness, towards the throbbing heartbeat of blackness. Freddie was propelled towards the ever hungry, dark heart of The Fallen. In that moment, enfolded in the sheets of shadows, his sword instantly came to life, its light beaming through the vortex of darkness, bonding to him, unified by purpose. His body felt full of light, nothing else. It was as if for one small moment he and the sword were one, one with every single soul that gave it the light it needed to cast out this darkness. It seemed that time stood still, suspended in space. Power, purpose, courage, hope, truth filled his mind, and gave him strength he never knew he had. Images of his far-off home, of Hollyhock Hollow, filled his mind. Images of Andrew, of their long journey, and their struggles, the moments that had made up their lives had led to this one final moment. The transcendent moment was fleeting, and suddenly cut off by the impact of the sword being sucked into the dark heart of The Fallen. It seemed that if the heart had absorbed both him and the sword. Then it suddenly expelled them out in an explosion of fractured light and darkness.
A deafening howl permeated the air, so loud that it penetrated every cell in Freddie’s body. The sword was blown from his hands, nearly ripping his fingers off. He felt himself being thrust over the tower. He reached out and clutched onto the edge, his legs dangling out beneath him. With the sword gone, he felt very weak and drained. His hands shook and trembled, unable to pull himself up. He cried out, feeling himself slipping. He could barely see through the fractured, mingled pieces of light, whooshing over him.
Ivory’s face appeared through the mist. “Hold on!” she cried, crouching over the edge of the tower and grasping Freddie’s hand. The howling wind surged all around her, nearly knocking her off with Freddie, but still she held on.
Ivory's eyes suddenly grew wide, she cried out and nearly dropped Freddie.
“What’s wrong?” Freddie called to her.
“Your hands are burning me!” Ivory screamed.
Freddie clutched onto Ivory, his heart beating in fear. “Oh, please, don’t let go. Please!”
“I’m not letting go, Freddie,” Ivory cried, her face ridden with pain, but her eyes strong and determined. “But I can feel myself slipping…”Just as she said those words, Talic reached out and caught Ivory. Without saying a word, he held onto Ivory, pulling, groaning, and heaving, battling against the wind, until he had pulled both Freddie and Ivory to safety.
All three of them huddled together, clinging to whatever they could, to avoid being pulled off the tower. Then, in a single instant, the sucking stopped, and a burning
, brilliant, orb of light---to surpass all lights, as if all the light The Fallen had ever ingested, combined into one---was expelled from the bowls of The Fallen. The light shot across the sky lighting up the dark sky in a trail of flames, burning the vapors of darkness it touched. It cut through the atmosphere colliding with the thick darkness covering the sky, in an earth-shattering impact.
Crack! The light hit the darkness like a powerful nail sinking into black wood. The earth shook and groaned. The tower on which they stood teetered back and forth. A piercing, ear-splitting crackling cut through the air like a thousand seas of cracked ice. From where Freddie stood it looked as if the black sky itself had fractured, causing the darkness to crack, sending splinters of light over the sky. The cracking sound continued, slowly at first, gradually building, the lines of light becoming wider as the darkness split, webbing out from where the orb of light had hit, stretching out over the sky, sending shards of light shooting down through the earth.
The howling of The Fallen grew louder as if trying to drown out the sound of the cracking sky. The earth shook once more, and groaned, as if giving birth.
And it was. For light was being born. Once more, though it had been shut out for far too long. Hidden and buried within the womb of darkness, it was coming. Its labor had been long and hard, like a still-born child that was slowly coming back to life.
The wind and darkness howled throughout the land, swirling and grasping at its onlookers as if deeply enraged. The dark void they had once called The Fallen had opened up wider and darker than before. Now there was nothing more than a swirling hole, tormented, and churning, now without form and voice and not a shard of light to its credit. It writhed and heaved, struggling to grasp the last sparks of light hovering just out of its reach. It heaved and gasped, breathing in darkness, billows and billows of it, great clouds of shadows and the darkness that had come from inside itself.
