Return of the Crown (30 page)

The wind tore at them, threatening to knock
them off their feet. The roar was deafening, their heads ringing
with the immense sound. Dirt and rocks pelted them, biting into
their tender skin.

Ravyn took a step and then stopped, spreading
her feet wide for stability. Blade copied her. They proceeded like
this, one clumsy step at a time. The wind lashed at them, brutal
and angry. Step after weary step they trudged, the wind screaming
defeat in their faces, wearing on their nerves. Time ticked by;
seconds, minutes, even hours? Urgency gathered Ravyn in knots,
making each step excruciating as time whipped past her. She looked
at Blade, his face set in grim determination.

Giving up was not an option: to quit was to
fail. Reaching for the Light within, she found comfort in its
presence, courage to keep moving. One step, then another, the
fierce howling dimmed. The wind died away, and they were standing
at the doors of a castle she had known once so long ago.

Zelera’s anguished scream let Connor know the
jig was up. He let Ravyn’s features melt away, and he flourished a
bow, noting when her presence departed. Clanging of steel upon
steel drew his attention to the battle raging below him. Souls
departed the bloody field one after another as warriors on both
sides fought with fierce determination.

The monstrous creatures they were fighting
had once been their friends, their kin. With Zelera gone, off to
complete her heinous final deed, the battle must end. Summoning
every ounce of Light he had within, Connor threw his arms wide.
“Halt,” his deep voice thundered across the field, rippling across
man and beast. Arms stopped in mid-swing, every eye drawn to the
owner of the booming command. A great crystal appeared above the
battlefield, catching the Light and raining it down in a glorious
spectrum of color.

“Look to the blessing of the Light and seek
that which has been hidden from your soul.” The words resounded
across the field. All his energy spent, Connor collapsed in a heap
on the ground.

Medina saw Connor fall and she plummeted out
of the sky, rushing to the old man’s limp body. She sat on the
ground, cradling his head in her lap. She wept, tears falling where
they may.

Hot air hit her cheek, and she heard a soft
snort in her ear. Giallag stood over her, amusement sparkling in
his eyes. “Do I trust my vision? A harpy weeping?”

Medina glared at Giallag. “You mock me while
he lies dead beside me? He was a good man,” she crooned, sniffing
back the tears.

“Dear Medina, he is merely in a deep sleep.
When great mages expend too much energy, their body shuts down to
repair and replenish. The vast amount of power he just used will
lay him low for a few days or so. That’s why I’m here. If something
happens to Ravyn, we will surely need him. Put him on my back so
that I can take him to safety if all does not go as planned.”

“He’s alive? Oh, oh, oh…” her eyes glimmered
with hope as she laid her head over his chest. “Oh, I hear his
heart.” She sighed, a small smile curling her lips.

General Joff stepped up to join them, and he
laid a gentle hand on Medina’s shoulder. “I’ll place him upon
Giallag, but hope wells within my heart. This will be a victory
ride. Look below, and see the wonders and blessings of the
Light.”

The battlefield glowed bright as if it was
midday, even though the sun had dropped below the horizon. Many of
the beast warriors were transforming back into their human forms.
They were falling to their knees, kissing the earth. “Praise to the
Light,” rose in a crescendo across the land.

Some monsters retained their forms: true
followers of Darkness with black holes for their souls. They cried
in agony and cringed away from the glorious Light that danced
across the battlefield. The army of the Light worked their way
across the grounds, dispatching them to the hell where they
belonged.

Joff laid Connor across the stallion’s strong
white back. Medina hopped up on Giallag’s back, hovering over
Connor. Joff addressed Giallag, “You take care of these two. I must
get back to business. The wounded need tending, and a funeral pyre
must be prepared for those slain. May they return to the Light.” He
turned and looked toward the castle. “The Blessing of the Light
upon you, Ravyn,” he whispered soft to the wind.

The sun slipped below the horizon as Ravyn
and Blade slipped into the great hall. The wind snatched the door
from Ravyn’s grasp, slamming it shut. The sound boomed throughout
the castle, echoing off every wall.

“It’s a good guess she knows we’re here,”
Blade said, unsheathing his sword. “No sense in a sneak attack.
Let’s go straight to the towers.” Blade ran across the hall,
heading toward the stairwell.

They ran up the stairs, taking two and three
at a time. Ravyn stared at Blade’s back as they raced up level
after level, all thoughts focused on reaching Zelera. The castle
felt dark and oppressive, but Ravyn had no time or energy to
concentrate on the ill feelings. Blade stopped at a pair of tall
ebony doors inlaid with golden runes. Ravyn stared at the sinister
doors, her heart in her throat. She stepped in front of Blade.

Hand on the latch, Ravyn hesitated, fear and
determination battling for domination. The doors blasted open, the
handles ripping from Ravyn’s fingers. The smell of rotten flesh
assuaged them, gagging them.

“Please don’t lurk in the hallway. I’ve been
waiting for you. So nice of you to visit your dear auntie,” Zelera
sneered.

Ravyn stepped into the room, looking hard at
the face of a woman she once loved. Time had been cruel to Zelera.
Her dark hair hung greasy and matted about an emaciated sallow
face. Dark colorless eyes glowered from red-rimmed sockets, deep
purple circles attesting to lack of sleep. Bony fingers protruded
from long black sleeves, one hand clutching an athame of obsidian
used only in rituals of the Dark.

“I’m really glad you came. You see I’ve
really tapped my energy battling you, or should I say Connor, and
the sacrifices I had planned to use to renew my strength flew the
coop so to speak,” wild eyed she tittered at her own joke. “If you
hadn’t come, I don’t believe I would’ve had enough power to finish
your parents’ journey to hell. But, you’ve come and brought a
friend. How delightful.” Power blasted from her fingers striking
Blade in the chest. He fell to the floor writhing in agony, crying
out in anguish.

“Stop,” Ravyn screamed. “It’s me you
want!”

“I shall have you both. Know this; you cannot
save both Blade and your parents. You have to choose.” She laughed
as she released more power into Blade, a steady burning stream.

Ravyn stood paralyzed, wrapped in Dark icy
tendrils of thought. Fear of losing her parents gripped her, only
to have fear of losing Blade overlap it. Doubt flooded her soul.
Darkness overwhelmed her senses, crushing her spirit. The weight of
defeat pressed down on her, strangling all hope.

“Believe,” Blade struggled to shout before
screams of agony tore away his ability to speak.

“Yes, believe, Ravyn, believe the Darkness
has taken your very heart. You are nothing,” Zelera sneered.

No one can take the Light from you unless
you allow it
. “No!” Ravyn screamed in defiance. “I will not be
consumed by Darkness, and I will not choose. I will have them all
with me safely. The blessing of the Light upon you, Aunt Zelera.”
Luminescence enveloped Ravyn crowning her in glory. The sword of
Light she’d fashioned before was glowing in her hands. She began
moving her arm in great sweeping arcs, destroying the dark threads
all about her. Spinning wildly, sword and hair flying, she slashed
apart the threads of evil spun throughout the room. The great ebony
doors exploded sending splinters of wood flying in every
direction.

Zelera tossed power about madly, striking at
Blade and Ravyn, incoherent cursing flowing from her lips. Each
blast rebounded on her, and screams of terror and frustration
replaced the curses.

Blade struggled to sit up, every fiber of his
being alight with fire. Ravyn raced about the room a streak of
Light, arm slicing great arcs left and right, slashing at things
unseen to his eyes.

Zelera leapt across the room, landing on
Blade, the wicked athame pressing into his neck. “Stop now,” she
screeched, “or he dies!”

Ravyn lowered her arm, seeking the calming
green eyes, belonging to the man that was her other half. Blade lay
beneath her aunt, the pointed blade pressed against his neck. There
was no fear in his eyes, only love.

“Ravyn, the mirror, destroy it,” he cried,
blood trickled down his throat where the athame nicked him.

Ravyn looked about the room, noting the tall
mirror in the corner. Summoning every ounce of strength she had,
Ravyn cast the glorious sword into the mirror. Glass shards rained
down, catching exposed flesh. Light burst forth, illuminating the
tower chamber, and the Darkness exploded in a deafening howl.
Zelera and Ravyn collapsed silent and unmoving.

Jedro felt like he was flying in circles, but
knew he was flying across the swirling winds. The small dragon’s
red wings pumped against the winds with less power, and its eyes
were wild with fright.

“C’mon, lad, my senses are tingling. I think
we’re almost out of it. Keep it up for just a bit longer, and then
we can find a place to land and rest.”

The dragon’s stomach growled and rumbled. A
discontented mewling sound issued from deep in its throat.

“We’ll get you something to eat too. Don’t
you fret. Ahh, something’s happening.” The wind abruptly ceased.
Dirt and debris spattered the ground below them. Jedro looked down
and saw a moat of blackened water evaporate, leaving a trench of
gooey mud. Before him, a wall of flames sizzled out, leaving a
smoldering ring of ash to mark where it had been. Then a rumbling
sound filled the air, and a huge wall crumbled down into a pile of
rubble. Dust plumed into the air, clogging his vision.

“Looks like we need to fly past that dust
cloud, and then we’ll find a place to roost. Just a little more
flying, little guy.” They soared out over the pile of rubble and
through the dust. As he blinked the grit out of his eyes, Jedro
spied Harpies flying about a battlefield.

“Oh, if they weren’t my race, I’d disown
them,” he cried in disgust. “Harpy women are so disgusting. Look at
them flocking to the site of the battle, looking for carrion no
doubt,” he spit the words in anger.

Medina heard a low rumbling and watched
astonished as the wall crumbled. The malevolence and anger that had
roiled in the air all day dissipated and drifted away with the
breeze. She was looking at the cloud of dust, joy in her heart,
when she saw two creatures in the air. One clearly harpy, but the
other looked like a small dragon.

“Hey, Giallag, I think I see a dragon,” she
stated. “Over there near the crumbled wall.”

Giallag tossed his head, looking in the
direction she indicated. “Sure enough. That’s a dragon. You have
any pull with those creatures? I’ve lost a few friends over the
years to those brutes.” An involuntary shiver raced down his
back.

Medina lifted off Giallag’s back to
investigate. “We are creatures of the air. Let me see what I can
find out.”

As she neared the smallish red dragon, she
spied Jedro hovering beside him. “Jedro,” she cried, “we thought
you were dead. Everyone will be so excited.”

Jedro’s mouth hung wide open as he stared at
the harpy that looked nothing like a harpy. Well, she had the body
of a bird like he did, and wings too. But she was clean. Her hair
glimmered in the sun, and her skin was unmarred by dirt. Mostly he
noted the serene expression on her face. No trace of malice or
anger could he find. He was melting in her liquid green eyes.
“Medina, is that you?”

“Of course it’s me, birdbrain,” she teased.
“Princess Ravyn taught us a new way of life. We have evolved. You
will find our clan to be a much nicer place to live. I promise. No
more bickering and fighting. Well, not as much anyhow. Who’s the
dragon?”

“Oh, I saved him from the dungeons.” Jedro
noticed the dragon’s pouty expression as it flapped its great red
wings to stay aloft. Jedro motioned to the trees below, “We’re
really tired. Can we continue this conversation below?”

Blade struggled to push Zelera off his chest,
when two strong hands pulled Zelera off him and raised him into a
sitting position. Blade looked in wonder on the face of his King,
not a day older than the day Zelera stole the crown.

“There is a story to tell here, young man,
but first are you wounded?” Concern edged Bryant’s voice, and his
eyes scanned Blade’s neck noting the trickle of dried blood.

“No, your majesty, I don’t think so. I only
received a little nick.” He rubbed the side of his neck. “The pain
from her magical torture is subsiding.” He motioned to Zelera’s
still form. He still felt dazed and confused, and he rubbed his
eyes. Looking up he saw his Queen, tears glistening in her
eyes.

Lareina stood over her sister, tears coursing
down her cheeks. “Oh, Zelera, dear sister, what have you done?” She
stooped down, kissing her sister’s gaunt cheek. She turned to
examine Ravyn. “And this young girl,” the words caught in her
throat as she gasped, “Bryant, could it be?”

“Yes, it’s Ravyn,” Blade knelt beside his
love, brushing black hair off her face, “and I’m Blade. Zelera
stole nine years from you. Ravyn made a perilous journey to return
to Veris and set you free.” He looked into Lareina’s eyes. “Is she
all right? I don’t know what I’ll do if she’s not.”

Lareina knelt beside Blade, taking Ravyn into
her arms. She cradled her, crooning a lullaby as she ran a finger
along her daughter’s cheek. She kissed her forehead. “She’s in mage
sleep, as is Zelera. She’ll be back to normal after a short rest;
they both will.”