He sighed and nodded. “This is what must be done, but your people do not have to be party to this Faraname. They could still leave with our peoples.”
“You are correct, we could, but it is not meant to be. You know this to be true. Our people are failing, an Elvin child has not been born in over five hundred years, we do not have the immortality you have to sustain us through this, only an extended life during which to pray to the Fates that this curse be reversed. We are too few to leave our land and start anew. No, we will stay here with you. Our fate is now in the hands of the future child of prophecy.”
“You are a good man Faraname, may the Fates look upon you and your people and bless you. Now, go, we cannot let another minute escape us.” The two men grabbed arms to the elbow, entwining them in the familiar Elvin farewell of true friendship. Then Faraname did the same to Aradisa who, as they parted, threw her arms around his neck with tears streaming down her cheeks. He slowly pulled back saying, “You are truly Queen to all our people, Fates’ blessing to you my sister.”
With that he nodded to the Council and departed with the others who had entered with him. Aradisa drew her hand up to wave as they rode off then brought it back down to cover the sob that escaped her throat.
“Are you certain, my liege?” Eraine, a Council, asked his king.
“You know this must be done, Eraine,” Viliren replied. “There is no other way to protect the child and the future of our people as well as those of the Dark. Theonelle is too unstable. Remember Eraine no one must know the true nature of our daughter. The Fates made it very clear that no one should reveal that we are her parents. She and everyone else must think she was created from magic at the time the true Dark child is born. It is imperative this be kept from the Darkbearers, especially Theonelle. When the time is right, the Fates will reveal all. Do you understand?” He looked to his Council, all of whom had returned from the battle, and they acknowledged with a simple nod. They didn’t truly understand, nor did Viliren, but the Fates had decreed it be so, and they would all follow their words.
Aradisa walked forward and took his hand. He looked at the woman he loved one last time, took her face in his hands and drew her forward, kissing her deeply. They had said their goodbyes earlier, but he needed one last kiss, knowing it would be the last time he’d ever be able to touch her again. They held hands and turned to the Council. He still held the power they had sent to him within and needed it for one last task before he could return it.
“Begin, Aradisa.”
Aradisa dropped his hand and stepped forward. She looked longingly at the now dry fountain where she’d sent her only child to imprisonment until the unknown time when the child’s soul mate would be born, and then she looked back at Viliren one last time. She drew in her breath and turned her eyes skyward drawing on the nature powers of her people. Then she opened her mouth and began to sing. The song was low and rich, her voice elegant, sending words of pleading to the Fates, asking them to hide their treasure and all that encompassed it, praying they would heed her cry and come to her aid.
Beside her, Viliren raised his arms to the sky, the power erupting from them and sending magical prisms of light cascading through it. The lights danced above them as if weaving a mystical cloak. They ebbed and flowed with Aradisa’s voice. He brought his hands together, pulling the rays in and tightly forming a thin rainbow then quickly spread them, power shaking his body to its core. As the force emanated from him, his brown hair began to whiten. The ground quaked, and the animals fled, knowing they needed to escape or remain trapped for eternity. With the force of his movement and the strength of Aradisa’s song, the bands spread over the city and beyond, forming a sphere around them. The rays of the sphere thickened, giving it definition, the colors within it fading. Viliren dropped his hands as the song ended then held his breath, anticipating the violence that would slam into them at any moment. At first there was nothing and they all worried that it hadn’t worked. Then the force erupted under them, cracking the earth below and sending them sprawling to the ground, the glass from the broken dome crunching as their bodies fell. They could hear the screams of the Elvin who had fled to their forest, not realizing the immensity of their decision to stay. Aradisa looked up as the sphere above them expanded and deflated, at one point seeming to cover her entire body. Then suddenly it expanded as far as it could stretch, quivering at the strain. She prayed it would work, it had to. Finally, the sphere faded, and the world above came into vision once again. The ground quieted and all around them was silent.
Viliren helped her up and looked at Cyric. There was only one way to test if it had worked. Cyric disappeared, shifting to where the edge of the magical sphere should be. They waited in silence for his return, no one wanting to say a word for fear their plan would go awry. Cyric returned quickly, and they all held their breath as they awaited his answer.
“It is done,” he said sadly as he reappeared in the room. “The border is sound, I cannot see beyond it, and I’m certain none can see into it.”
They had done it; the capital city of Cirillia was now a hidden realm. They had managed to hide it away from the rest of the world so that no one would ever find their treasure. The prophecy and the future Light child were safe. Now they had just one more thing to do to ensure the safety and future of their people who had fled beyond this new realm border. Viliren looked at his Council, held his hands out at his side, and said, “I return your powers as they were given to me and I give you all my power, both innate and blessed by ascension. They will be divided among you until the Light child comes at which time those powers will be returned to the Fates. Do you make a solemn oath before the eyes of the Fates to use these powers to govern our people and land to the best of your abilities in the name of your sovereign until that time?”
“We do.”
“Then kneel and lift your hands before me.”
With that, the Council knelt before their king. Power once again emanated from his hands, but this time it hovered above him, forming a light cloud. A stream of magic pulled from his hands into the cloud until weakened from the loss of his power, Viliren collapsed against Aradisa. Cyric went to move out of concern, but Eraine stayed him with his hand. The cloud moved across to float above the Council, hanging there momentarily then slamming down into them, nearly knocking them over. Cyric caught his breath as the wind was knocked from him. He forced himself to stay conscious as the power swept through him and buried itself within every vein of his body. When it was finally done, he did not have the time to contemplate the changes within him but instead rose with the others and walked closer to Viliren.
“Aradisa, are you ready my dear?” Viliren asked his wife, gently running his hand along her cheek for one final touch. She smiled warmly up at him, no fear or hesitation left to show on her beautiful face. She had come to terms with what they had done and knew that it was for the best.
“Yes, my love,” she replied.
Viliren straightened himself up to his full height and looked once again at his Council.
“Council, you must rule Cirillia, keep peace and order. Tell them why we sacrificed so much and why they must believe in the prophecy. Eraine, as Keeper you must pass the knowledge of the prophecy down to the future people and if need be, you must train the Keeper who replaces you in all manners of magic surrounding it. Ensure that the secret be kept within the Council and that the rituals to reveal the truth be passed to the future Keeper. You gentlemen are the rulers of Cirillia; take care of our people and our land as I and my predecessors have. You must go now. The time before exit from the land is short. You’ve only a few moments. Goodbye gentlemen, it has been my honor.”
The Council bowed before him then shifted out to the outer rim of the border where they disappeared as they walked through the last exit point of the invisible wall.
Viliren looked at Aradisa then took both her hands in his. “I will love you through eternit
y, my dear.”
“And I you, my love.”
She squeezed his hands, and they both closed their eyes, saying the prayer of returning as one.
“Fates that bless my life
With immortality
I thank you for all I have been
All I have done
The time is nigh, however,
Life has been too long
I return that with which you blessed me.”
Where the normal prayer would end with “And take my spirit to walk amongst you for all eternity.” They changed their words to fit their desired end, instead saying,
“And leave my spirit to stand guard
For all eternity.”
A breeze blew through the open garden and caressed them with gentle fingers. It dried the tears that had fallen on Aradisa’s cheeks. Calm came across her, and she felt free, all cares lifted. She no longer felt Viliren’s hands holding hers and opened her eyes to see if they’d been successful. The world she saw was now in black and white, no hues to define the beauty of what had once been there. She raised her hand to touch her husband but despaired to find it went right through him. Their bodies were gone, taken into the ground to give back to new life, yet their spirits had remained as they had intended.
“Aradisa, my love,” he said softly to her. “Guardians for eternity.”
She looked over at the grey fountain that had shown emerald throughout her life and thought of why they’d sacrificed so much. Yes, this had been the right thing to do. The child that would be given life through the womb of magic hidden deep within that fountain was worth any sacrifice she could make. They would guard her secrets until the Keeper returned to bring her into their world. How long that would be remained to be seen, but they would wait. Together they would wait and guard. She turned back to the husband she adored and smiled.
“Yes, my dear, guardians for eternity.”
They faded away, leaving only a shimmering residual where they’d stood. Silence was all that remained.
“Where is it?” The Dark King screamed at Viliren’s Council as they walked through the rift that was the last exit from the city.
Cyric felt the whoosh as the magic behind them sealed the final doorway for eternity.
“Where is the city? Where is my prophecy?”
Cyric couldn’t stop himself from staring at the Dark King. He looked mad. Long black tendrils of hair stuck to the sweat on his face, his bulging black eyes holding nothing but an endless dungeon of terror. This would throw him further over the edge, but they’d taken the chance that he would turn his attention to other matters now that his prize was nowhere to be found.
“What have you done?” Theonelle screamed, flames flaring from his hands.
“There is nothing more for you to seek, King Theonelle, it is gone,” Tuathal an elder Lightbearer said, stepping forward. “Our city is gone, hidden from all including us for eternity, the prophecy with it, all destroyed to protect it from you.”
“I want to see your king now. I do not need to waste my time speaking with any of you.”
“Our King and Queen have returned to the Fates, they are no more. The power of the crown is now our power. Now leave this land,” Tuathal said with an authority that only came with age and experience. He did not seem the least bit phased while Cyric could barely hold down the contents of his stomach.
Theonelle froze, speechless.
Thankfully, Cyric thought. He didn’t think he could take any more of the man’s spit flying at his face.
“Are you mad? That’s impossible!” The flames scorched the grass beneath Theonelle.
“You are the one who is mad, Theonelle. You have brought this upon yourself and all of us. The prophecy was not yours to take and manipulate. It was a gift from the Fates to help our lands prosper. Now it is lost. Return to your realm and leave our lands. There is nothing here to gain. A border will be placed between realms with wards that will make crossing into either impossible. There it will remain until the time comes when we feel your people and their ruler have changed. Our people will no longer be subjected to your Dark ways.”
As he began to reply, an elder Darkbearer whispered into Theonelle’s ear. The king took a moment to think, then said, “Perhaps you are right, Tuathal. Your people are useless and your lands too wooded. But do not think you have won. We will continue to hunt the prophecy and we will find it, no matter what lengths you have gone to hide it. My son deserves it as do my people. Hide yourselves away within some protective shell. It will not help you, the Dark will prevail, and we’ve always been more powerful than you weaklings. When I find the prophecy, my son will rule you all.”
With that he shifted, the remainder of his Council following, and his army retreating, with one exception. As the rest left, one Darkbearer remained, looking at the Council with curiosity. Something churned within his mind as he tried to make out what had occurred.
“Leave it be, Kanine, do not try to figure what your King could not. It is the best for all of us, and you know it is.”
The man looked considerably at them then nodded in agreement. “You are correct, it is better to leave things as they are. You would be wise to remove yourselves from his grasp with haste. He will return when he finds a way.”
They had no way of knowing if that way would be found as they watched the Darkbearer shift. Nor did they know that the king would lose his mind to the Darkness within him so much that his quest for the prophecy would one day become but a myth to his people, only to take shape again with the birth of the true Dark child.
As they watched the Dark army cross beyond into their own realm, the Lightbearers pooled their magic together one last time, the strength of Viliren’s powers enhancing their own. They brought their hands out before them and released the arcane magic toward the border of their lands. A shield appeared heightening and lengthening to stretch from one end of their land to the next, all signs of the Dark lands disappeared before them, a reflective wall taking its place. With another burst of power, they created a scene upon the magic wall so to anyone walking upon it there would seem endless forests until the magic of the barrier turned them around. Several of the Council wove warding spells to keep their people safe from any Dark powers seeking entry. Their efforts took them long into the night.
By the time they were finished, Cyric realized it was just past the final hour of the evening and into the next morning. Dawn was rising, spreading misty rays of sunlight through the grove in which they stood creating a magical effect. To anyone seeing them they might have even appeared to be the Fates themselves standing there. Cyric rubbed his eyes as exhaustion swept through him. Around him the Council shifted, heading back to the southern castle, once the king’s summer home, where they would now lead the realm. Cyric stayed behind to look at the magical border. He took a sweeping glance around him to where their capital city once stood, now hidden from sight. In place of the beautiful city that had once been home to every member of their monarchy since the beginning of time stood only a grove of massive trees. He placed his hand on the trunk of a tree beside him. The trees had been here since before the city had been built, shielding it for tens of thousands of years after its creation. They were sacred to the Cirillians as it was thought this was where the Fates had written the prophecy, its parchment taken from the wood of one of the trees itself. He turned and walked to the border, leaning his head against it, feeling as if he now lived within the confines of a prison. His hands clenched and his stomach churned as the realization of all they had done this day hit him. He fell to the ground in terror and overwhelming grief. Then he felt a presence behind him. It wasn’t the whooshing of a Council shifting, but something subtle, gentle.
Cyric looked up, blinking his eyes and thinking he must be overtired. Before him stood a woman of ethereal beauty; she wasn’t quite whole, not quite spirit, but he knew her to be a Fate.
“Do not worry, young Lightbearer. All that has been done is naught for wrong. It was necessary and your king and queen knew this to be true. Have faith in our words for the prophecy will come to be from all you have sacrificed. You will maintain your oath to your king as the youngest and will see her rise. Light with Dark bringing all our peoples together in peace once more. Be strong, she will need your guidance and wisdom for all that is to come.”
With that she vanished, a shimmer of silver dust was all that remained for him to see until a gentle breeze carried it off. All around the ground on which she stood where once the violence of the past painted a portrait of the pain and suffering of their people, now bloomed a field of lilacs. Cyric smiled, renewed at her words. The Light Child would come to them and all would be righted. He shifted for a well-deserved rest, leaving the beautiful grove where one day that Light child would walk among the lilacs.
One
“Where is she? By the Fates, the girl has no sense of time or schedules!”
“Calm yourself, Anwell, I’ll find her. We’ve plenty of time.” Daneele looked at the elder man with a smirk. “Besides, it’ll do them good to wait for a change. We’re always waiting on them.” With that he shifted, on the hunt for the missing princess.
Anwell paced while the others looked on, anticipation keeping them all on edge.
Daneele found Violissa on the back lands of the castle, lost in a field of flowers, muttering spells to make them bloom. He shook his head and thought of the day they’d first brought her into this world. It seemed like just yesterday he’d been entranced by those emerald eyes. Now, here she was a mature, beautiful and powerful woman ready to ascend the throne. It was easy to see why the other Council would question her readiness for the throne. She shunned most of the duties of her role, deferring them to the Council. She drifted through her days in what seemed to most a fog of unawareness. Daneele knew better, though; he’d seen the way she was with her people. The gentleness and compassion she had for them. The way in which she made all of them feel as if they were no different from she, just as special as she. He’d watched in awe as she wove spells more powerful than all the Council’s combined, with seemingly no effort. He had no doubt she’d step into her role as Queen with the same ease.
Ascension (Unbound Prophecy Book 1) Page 2
