by A. J. Cronin
“The fiction is far more enjoyable than the fact.”
“Indeed. So what happened when the bards learned who you were?”
“They changed. Physically, I mean. They became winged creatures. Lucius’ way of mocking the Guardian race. Mikha’el later confided in me that Lucius failed in that regard. He was even somewhat amused by it. Only one bard was killed, the other I let escape.”
“Escape? Why?”
“At first, she - ”
“She?”
“Yes. There was a man and a woman.”
“I see.”
“She reminded me of someone. The way she spoke, even the way she asked questions. But, more than anything, her eyes were the same.”
“You cannot be serious...”
“I wanted so hard not to believe it, even in light of the fact she called herself ‘Amy,’ but when she transformed, I could not fool myself any longer. Lucius brought Amelia back with the sole purpose of killing me. His version of a joke, I think.”
“And you did not have the heart to kill her a second time.”
Alastor laughs dark and low at what Gawain said.
“I tried to remove the heart that had done so the first time, remember?”
“I am sorry, I did not mean...”
Gawain allows a moment of silence to pass.
“It does not matter, Gawain. The past is what it is.”
“Anyway, knowing my daughter, even after that she still had trouble believing you.”
“Yes, so I fulfilled my ‘contract’ to guide her to the Black Knight by showing her father’s tomb.”
“Seeing the Knight dead probably sobered her up.”
“Quite. Some of her naïveté faded that instant, I believe.”
Alastor stops, a perplexed look on his face.
“What is it, Alastor?”
“That was only a few days ago, but it seems much, much longer.”
“The realm has that effect, and to make matters worse, it never goes away.”
“The day after, we made way back to Essain to confront the Necromancer. After a few unexpected battles, we did so.”
“Not before you came across the woodcutter’s town, utterly destroyed.”
“Yes.”
“I am sorry she had to see that. This whole story fills in around all the small pieces I have learned from the people who have recently died. Part of me worries about the scope. Now, what happened in Essain?”
“Not far from the city, Mikha’el and I were separated from Lisa. The trees themselves blocked our way, bursting forth to try and restrain us. When we attained freedom, we only found a broken and shattered house.”
“Edna’s. Lisa’s home outside the castle.”
“I instructed Mikha’el to fly overhead while I assaulted the city. I came across only minimal resistance and quickly found Lisa in the throne room, along with Edna and Amelia, acting as Lucius’ personal guard. Lucius revealed to Lisa that he and I were brothers just to spite me, and on top of it kept making allusions to Amelia and myself to Lisa, though of course your daughter did not have the vaguest clue what he was actually saying. We dueled before being interrupted by Hector.”
“How could that pathetic wretch get the two of you to stop?”
“Having a blade to Lisa’s throat while Amelia was watching on was enough to get me to stop. Lucius stopped simply because I had.”
“Hector... I should have killed him myself when Gallahad died,” Gawain says to himself with a low snarl.
“Hector thought he had the upper hand. I offered up myself in exchange for Lisa. Hector thought it was a joke, but Mikha’el came down, sword drawn and then Edna became Morrigan, who was - ”
“The Ice Fairy from Judeheim?”
“Very well... how did you know that one?”
“Who do you think I first met after I died? Morrigan explained that she had been masquerading as ‘Edna’ for an extremely long time, moving me in line with what Eoin was doing. I was upset at first to learn this, but in retrospect, it makes sense. Again, I do not blame you for never telling me.”
Alastor smiles appreciatively before continuing.
“The best part was that Morrigan had convinced Amelia to aid us, and she was then the one holding a blade to Hector.”
“I always knew I liked that girl, even though I never met her.”
“All appeared to be going so well... until I was struck down.”
Gawain now is the one that struggles.
“Knowing what I know now, I find it extremely hard to accept that you could be killed. I thought the bracers prevented that?”
“That is the problem. I am not dead... not entirely.”
“What!?”
“Waking up here, in Cain’s prison, Lucius explained that he poisoned me in such a way as to keep my body in an endless cycle of death and rebirth.”
“How is that possible?”
Alastor raises his arms, showing Gawain the bracers. Gawain coming to understand their meaning.
“Lucius figured out that I was wearing them. He talked about how ‘what is wrought by Samael is his’ and that since he served Samael, he had the ability to trap me here, since I wore these.”
Gawain’s eyes become very cunning and introspective.
“What reason did Lucius give for bringing you here, Alastor?”
“To unlock Cain’s bindings. Apparently, they exist in both realms at the same time. He needed a ‘key’ that could do the same.”
Gawain stands, his mind racing. He paces as the pieces start to fall into place.
“Alastor, I do believe I know now why you were allowed to be brought here ahead of schedule.”
“Ahead of schedule?”
“Yes.”
“Pray tell.”
“When I died, Morrigan led me to what you would call heaven, and the first thing I did was look for someone. Unable to find this person, I spoke with God himself. There, in His presence, I was told of what is to come, and my place in it. I begged to be allowed to search among the dishonored not only for those who might aid Him, but for my friend, whom I believed far better suited to the times ahead than myself.” Gawain stops, turning to Alastor slowly, methodically continuing. “Do you know of whom I speak?”
Alastor, watching Gawain with a sharp eye sees in Gawain’s face almost too clearly the answer.
“You came here, gave up paradise, to find my father?”
“Yes. I have even mustered an army to aid me in this task, which you saw but a portion, yet... Eoin is nowhere to be found.”
Alastor falls away from Gawain, his body going slack, panic gripping his heart of hearts. An imagined smell filling his nostrils.
“I know what you are saying now. You cannot find father, because he was never here to begin with.”
“No one of your blood is, Alastor, not as long as the curse brought upon it by Cain lives on. I only recently learned this. I had hoped to find a way to him, but I am unable to make the descent.”
“But I can.”
Gawain nods apologetically.
“Eoin was a far better man than I. The very thought of him being in that place... I cannot endure it.”
“I know. That thought has haunted me since his murder.”
“Alastor, I will not ask you to do this.”
“You know you would not need to ask me, Gawain.”
“So, you will...?”
Alastor looks deep into his soul, making sure that its answer is the same which his mind has come to. Regretfully, it is.
“I shall descend into the fiery abyss of the Madness and free my father.”
Chapter Fifteen
Reunited
Amy and Lisa walk over yet another hill. A smile passes on the Queen’s face as she comes to realize where they are. It fades away in roughly the same moment.
“This is the city where we first met,” Lisa says.
“But then Lucius had it destroyed,” Amy softly adds.
“Why did he do that? A
lastor told me what he thought, but I want to hear from you why the Necromancer did it.”
“You do not want to know.”
“I need to know, whether I want to or not.”
“He thought it would be amusing to hurt you and Alastor. He revels in causing that sort of pain. It was why he sent me in the first place.”
“The monster...” seethes Lisa.
They walk through the ruins, both mournfully. For Lisa, the buildings constantly fade between the two versions she saw. One moment they are burned out husks, the next they are back to normal.
“Are you seeing what I am seeing Amy?”
“Yes. You want the city to be as it was, but it is at odds with what those who died here saw.”
“That is why I saw the black castle collapsed one moment, and then whole?”
“Probably.”
“That would mean someone who saw the castle whole wants it to remain?”
“Yes.”
“I see.”
The woodcutter town is quiet, as every place they have walked through has been. The lack of wind or sound increases the feeling of dread. Amy and Lisa wander the streets, looking for some sign of life, or unlife, as the situation might deem. Coming to the tavern, Lisa is brought to a halt.
“Lisa? What is it?”
Lisa does not speak, but her unmoving gaze is all Amy needs. From within the tavern, orbs of light like eyes can be seen carefully watching the two women.
A shriek breaks the stifling silence.
Creatures more hideous than any seen yet spring forth from all directions, their hissing and gurgling growls filling the city. Amy and Lisa summon their weapons, defending themselves against the snare. It does not take long for it to become apparent that the creatures are not there for them both. The foul things only notice Lisa, and they attack her with relentless tenacity. Amy does her best to aid Lisa, but it is practically in vain; Lisa has found an inner wellspring of strength, fending off her attackers with such ease and savagery that Amy is reminded of watching Alastor.
Lisa moves swiftly and decisively, almost feeling where the next attack will come from. The young Queen dodges attacks while viciously counter attacking, letting out snarls of anger and irritation. The fight moves along the city’s main street, creatures continuing to pour forth from the buildings.
Amy forces herself into the fray, felling one foe after another and finally earning her the attention of the monsters.
With each creature Lisa sends back to the black pit of the void, her weapon changes, grows, eventually looking similar to Alastor’s own claymore, but it does not change her ability to fight. If anything, it increases her lethality. Her mind begins to wander, her attention drawn elsewhere, yet she remains all but invincible.
A sadness falls on her like a veil, and she recalls Alastor, in the catacombs of Judeheim, the description he gave of that battle, the sensations he felt. The very same sensations she now feels. What this means, Lisa cannot grasp. She simply defends herself.
The battle grows at a perpetual rate.
Lisa and Amy defeat the creatures as fast as they appear, causing their rage to increase, which in reciprocation causes more creatures to ooze from every shadow and every crack with evil intent. Neither side has any desire for this to end, but at that moment a single voice cries out, bringing all to an instantaneous halt.
Lisa and Amy set their attention skyward, seeing there a winged woman, like one of Mikha’el’s race, wearing beautiful golden armor. Four more such women fly with her, two to each side, all wearing silver armor. In their hands they all wield fierce looking spears. The creatures grimace and howl at these winged women before scurrying away into the darkened corners of the buildings and into the trees. The soldier in gold catches sight of Amy, not hesitating to swoop down in an attempt to attack her. Lisa dashes to Amy’s aid, catching the soldier’s spear on her blade.
“Stand down!” the soldier demands. “This is one of them!”
“She is not!” declares Lisa. “She is my guide here. And my friend.”
The soldier backs off, carefully examining the two women with confusion on her face.
“You are not dead. Either of you...”
“Well, I was dead at one time,” Amy chortles.
“You. You are one of Lucius’ lieutenants, are you not?” the soldier asks sharply.
“Not any more. My alliance rests alone with the one she seeks,” Amy answers, gesturing to Lisa. “None other in all of creation can claim it.”
The gold clad soldier faces her compatriots briefly, then looks back to Lisa. Lisa’s heart still races, the sword in her hand remaining. The Queen stares down the soldiers, woeful of heart and wary of soul. The face of the gold clad soldier changes a bit as she looks into Lisa’s eyes.
“You are looking for Alastor, are you not?” the soldier asks in a gentle tone.
“I am,” Lisa answers as emotionless as possible.
The silver clad soldiers look for some sign of deceit in Lisa, but the one in gold becomes almost compassionate.
“You are Lisa, daughter of Gawain?”
Both Amy and Lisa are somewhat dumbstruck.
“How could you have known that?”
“Lucky guess, based on a description given to me.”
“Who here could have possibly given you such a description?”
“I think it best for us to leave this place before continuing this conversation.”
“Why?”
“This territory has become the spawning grounds for creatures such as the ones you just faced.”
“Where is there to go? And, more importantly, who are you?” Amy sternly asks.
The golden soldier gestures to those in silver, sending them away.
“I am Rachel, general of the forces of Valkyr.”
“Valkyr?”
“The Holy Refuge, for those dishonored who have repented of their sins.”
Lisa looks to Amy, Amy has become crestfallen and removed, stunned and confused all at once at this claim.
“How can a holy place exist here?” Lisa meekly asks on Amy’s behalf.
“There was a man of the highest order of honor that spoke on behalf of the dishonored to God himself. God found wisdom in the man’s words and set up Valkyr.”
“Will you take us there?”asks Amy, her heart downcast, eyes focusing on nothing, but still aware of the mission at hand.
“I shall.”
Lisa and Amy allow their weapons to vanish. Rachel smiles then motions for the two women to follow her. She leads them north, leaving the forsaken city behind. Rachel guides Amy and Lisa along paths neither has ever traversed. The Queen watches as Rachel folds her wings over her armor, forming that natural cloak that their race has been gifted with. She is reminded bitterly of Mikha’el, and thinks on how much she wishes he was with her in this wretched place. Lisa turns to Amy, finding her still depressed.
“Amy? What is bothering you?”
“I think... maybe I made a mistake in coming here.”
“But, without you, I could not have come here.”
“I know, and understand that I wanted to come here just as much as you did, but that does not stop me from feeling like I did something very, very wrong.”
Rachel looks over her shoulder, but says nothing.
“Is Alastor in Valkyr?” Lisa asks Rachel.
“I am not sure. He should be by now.”
“You mean to say that you do not know where he is?”
“Last I heard, he was in Essain. I was on my way to help, but I then received orders to search for anything or anyone out of the ordinary.”
“Essain? So he was still there?”
“Yes and no. From what I understand, Lucius was keeping him bound in Cain’s prison.”
“Cain’s prison?”
“Yes.”
Lisa recalls her dream from the night before, Rachel unknowingly confirming the location of that chamber she was in. The chamber that held Cain within a coffin of met
al.
“Why is his prison under my castle?” Lisa asks angrily of no one in particular.
“A question best asked of someone else, My Lady,” Rachel answers dryly.
~-~~-~
Alastor steps to the shrine at the far end of the temple. It is little more than a table made of gold, and on both sides flanked by silver lamp stands.
“Alastor, what you are about to do, no one has ever done and it should not be taken lightly. If you need more time to prepare, time is the one luxury we have in ample supply while you are here. As much as I wish to have the aid of my friend, I will not risk his son, who has become like my own.”
The Knight stares unblinking at the golden table, the symbol of sacrifice.
“This very moment has long been in my heart and mind. Morrigan has known this day would come, and she has tried to prepare me for it... only now can I see that. I will descend, and I shall liberate Eoin, my father, the best our family blood has ever known.”
Gawain stands beside Alastor, reflecting.
“Then the choice is made, but so much has happened in so little a time. Rest for a while, please, for as real a dream or vision might feel, it will pale in comparison to the real thing.”
“Of that, I have little doubt.”
Gawain takes Alastor out of the temple. The soldiers have dispersed, going about their duties, sitting in prayer, studying or talking amongst themselves.
“Funny, is it not?” Gawain remarks with a smile.
“I fail to see what you mean.”
“Not even death has kept either of us from engaging in yet another little adventure. Men like us, we are raised to believe that death is an ending. We do as much as we can while alive to be remembered. To help others. To right wrongs. To leave a legacy. In reality, life was little more than a sparring session for the true battle yet to be fought.”
“It has to end eventually. Surely good and evil cannot simply go on for all eternity?”
“That is what all this is, Alastor... a means to an ending, as it were.”
A stirring moves through the people. Rushed words, pointing and running. Alastor and Gawain stop walking, unsure of what has happened. Up in the air, four armored soldiers are seen flying into the city. They land before Gawain.
