Hello! I'm back from my travels. Truly, I expected to be able to post before now, but life decided to keep me overly busy instead.

@destinyluck: I'm glad you like my Dameon chapters. I'm dying to write another Dameon bit, but I've got at least one chapter that will happen first. If it makes you feel any better, that one is already written and (hopefully!) just needs a final revision before I can post it.

@Mu11berry: Awww... thanks, I'm glad you like me story! And welcome! Hopefully I'll get something posted soon.

Chapter 35:

Talver’s unexpected outburst so shocks Alaya that for a moment her anger and resentment drain away and she rushes to his side unthinking. “Talver, whatever are you talking about?” she asks, brushing the hair from his face.

Talver gently disengages Alaya without seeing her. He stares fixedly at Rhen, who stands still and uncomprehending in the middle of the room. Unconsciously his hand rises to fumble at the locket that has fallen free from his shirt.

“I think there is a story here that we have not yet heard, yes?” The druid’s voice holds a hint of amusement, startling in the midst of such a dark council.

Talver closes his eyes with a sigh. “A story? Yes, I suppose there is… a story.” His words are bitter with more than a touch of anguish. And for a moment he hates them all. For him, it is much more than a story. He grasps the locket and pulls strongly on it until the chain snaps. Only then does he open his eyes.

For several heartbeats, Talver gazes at the forlorn piece of metal lying across his palm. “Take it!” he says with a snarl and hurls the locket towards Rashnu. Alaya flinches at the sudden violence in his voice. The movement draws Talver’s eyes, but his gaze merely glances off her hair before falling to the floor. His voice is choked when he begins speaking again. “Open it. I am sure you will find it does so easily enough. I cannot bear to look.”

The Druid nods thoughtfully at the locket, as if unsurprised to find it laying in his hand although no one in the room had seen him catch it. Deftly he works the mechanism and the locket opens with a click. The room seems to shrink, as if even the walls were trying to catch a glimpse of its secret. Only Talver ignores the locket, staring instead into Rashnu’s face, seeking some sign of understanding or compassion or… absolution.

The Druid makes no outward sign, but merely passes the locket on. Shocked expressions, but no words from John and Elini. No words until finally Alaya sees it and stares helplessly at Talver. “What does this mean?” her voice rises high above it’s normal pitch. “Why… how… do you have my portrait?”

Still unable to meet her eyes, Talver reluctantly takes the locket back and stares at the pictures facing him. Hand-painted in exquisite detail… perfect likenesses. He sees Rhen on one side and Alaya on the other. Well, he had known it must be. And the shocked silence of his companions had confirmed it. He sighs.

“I was in love once,” he says quietly. He risks a glance at Alaya’s face and sees a mask of anger, confusion, fear and despair. He looks away and fixes his eyes at a spot just above Rashnu’s left shoulder. It is too late now to undo what has been done. There is no way out but onward. “She… ah… she loved me too. I think. We thought to get married one day. We were but children…” for a moment his words trail off as the images wash over him. Ra’ana’s flowing silver hair. The walks they took together in the woods. Feeling so daring as they followed the creek beds back into the line of trees. The kisses shared in the shadows of the forest.

“But all children must grow up eventually,” his eyes flicker briefly to Alaya before falling to contemplate the portraits resting in his hand. A hardness comes over him then and once again he flings the locket away from him. No one catches it this time. It crashes against the stone wall of the study and slithers noisily to the floor.

“With her womanhood came her Gift,” the word twists in his mouth and everyone understands that he means Curse. “Ra’ana could see the future.”

Frank amazement meets his words. He can see them gathering their questions and he holds up a hand to forestall them. He speaks quickly now, his words tumbling over one another in his desperate desire to be done with it. “She managed to hide it. From all but me. She would tell me her visions and we would giggle – thinking still that we were children and the world could not turn on us. We grew older and our love for each other grew deeper. Until the day that I asked her to marry me. I saw the Vision fall over her, and suddenly I was very afraid. She shook her head sadly then, and when she looked at me again she only said, ‘Ah, Talver, love of my life. Would that I could marry you. But it is not me for you in this life.’ She would say no more, but walked home silently.”

Talver does stop then. He does not want to continue, but the story has its own force. Its own life. It always has. He closes his eyes and the words drop like stones from his mouth. “For two weeks she would not see me. Every day I knocked on her door, and every day her father sent me on my way. Finally, after two weeks of fruitless visits, she met me at the door. I was fool enough then to be hopeful. She walked with me into the woods, but her joy was gone. ‘Talver, love of my life,’ she said and I noticed then as I had not before how strange was her wording. ‘I have one final gift for you.’ She clasped the locket around my neck and whispered Prophecy in my ear:

The Sun will turn his face from you
And an endless night will come into your life.
All choices will be lost to you – all doors blocked.
There will be no way forward and none back
And you will wecome Death as an old lover.
In the depths of Nightmare you will choose
And the future of the world will depend on your choice.

“She kissed me then, softly on the lips. Her voice was rough when she spoke again, and it was no longer prophecy, ‘But I am not amoung your choices,’ she said sadly. And that was the last I ever saw her. She never again answered my knocking. She took ill that winter, and never recovered. And I… I took what comfort I could in the life of a simple guardsman. And I tried to forget.”

YAY! update!

So, Talver has to make a world-changing choice? Sounds good. Well, bad for him, but good for the story.

Me likes!

o.O OMG So now it's TALVER's choice??? AHHH!!!

Yay! You finally posted!

yay! i missed this story!
your writing never ceases to amaze me, cherry. every chapter gives me a new theory (or two...or ten...). but i'm guessing that's the point.
glad to see you're back!

Man, I noticed your update days ago. I have no life right now, though. x.x

But OMG! I never expected that from Talver. Gee, I wonder who the love of his life really is now. But wow! I wonder what that prophecy will lead to. o.0 It sounds more grim than anything.

Well, I'm glad you had a nice vacation, Cherry. Glad you're back.

@Mu11berry: Well, he already has I hope it was the right one... Thanks! I'm glad you are still enjoying the story.

@aislingyngaio: Oh dear, is that a good AHHH!!! or a bad one? Of course everyone has choices. It's just Talver's bad luck that he fell in love with a Seer.

@destinyluck: Thanks!

@kaz: Awww... thanks! I'm glad to keep you theorizing.

@Dis: Still waters run deep. Poor Talver's having to make some tough decisions. Vacation was good -- although I had a lot more work to do on it than I would have hoped. And now, well... now I still have a lot more work than I have time.

*****

Chapter 36:

Alaya stares mutely at the enormous sarcophagus in front of them. The stone is covered with engravings of beasts straight from her worst nightmares. Rashnu turns to look to the group. “Are you sure?” he asks quietly.

She cannot pull her eyes from the horrifying visions carved into the stone. She hears Talver take a quick breath. “Yes.”

She hears the misery in his voice, but she cannot forgive him. Anger rises like bile in her raw throat. She pushes it back. Crying and raging have gotten her nowhere. This is her last chance.

“Elini, please…” she fights to keep the tears out of her voice, but she cannot keep her voice steady.

“No.” Elini cuts her off. Her voice is calm and resolute. She will not change her mind.

The shock breaks through the spell that the coffin seems to have cast over Alaya. Her eyes fly to Elini’s face and lock onto her implacable gaze. Alaya feels her legs buckle. She falls painfully to her knees. “But…” her voice starts to rise in a humiliating wail, but Elini cuts her off with a sharp gesture. “It’s not fair.” she hisses, more or less under her breath, and her eyes drift briefly to Talver before locking back onto the sarcophagus.

Elini’s face softens for a moment and she reaches forward to gently stroke Alaya’s hair. “Ah, child,” she says with a deep sigh. “I am sorry. It is just too dangerous. Your gift is strong, but untrained. You are simply not ready to travel in Realms where demons wander free.”

The knot in Alaya’s throat tightens abruptly, making it difficult to breathe. She will not cry. Not here. Not now.

“Alaya…” the voice and the hand are tentative.

She looks up to see Talver’s stricken face, and she wants to scream. How dare he? How dare he choose Rhen over her and then have the audacity to feel pity for her? Her voice will not work. Angrily she brushes his hand away from her. She stares wildly around the room fighting the desire to throw herself into the coffin. Instead she pushes through all of them and flees. She hears a scuffle behind her, and a voice says “Let her go,” but she is so eager to be away from them all that it barely registers.

At first she seeks the darkest passages that she can find. She welcomes the gloom and the silence. But eventually, her body betrays her anger. She is too tired to run. Exhausted she rests her cheek against the rough stone wall of the passage.

And then… then the tears start and she cannot stop them. She cries until her tears run dry and her throat is swollen nearly shut. And still the pain waits.

“Alaya,” the voice, unexpected in the darkness, sends thrills through her. “Have I not told you that I will always be here for you?”

She should be frightened. She knows it. But it is not fear causing her heart to pound. She turns slowly to face him, knowing what she will see. “Nanghaithya. How have you come here? I did not Summon you.”

“Your pain called to me, Alaya,” his voice a soft caress. He reaches for her then and she cannot resist him. She is not sure whether it is his voice or his hand on her shoulder gently pulling her toward him. Perhaps it is both. Regardless, before she knows what is happening – almost as if she had travelled from here to there without crossing the space in-between – she feels herself enfolded in his strong embrace. She rests her head against him, his calm heartbeat marking a steady counterpoint to the wild fluttering in her chest.

Gently he cups her chin in his fingers, gazing deep into her eyes. She feels her heartbeat galloping wildly. “Now, Alaya, tell me everything, my dear. Who is causing you such wretched pain?”

“Elini…Talver…” With the names comes fresh waves of pain. Tears well up without warning, followed by rage. “He… he’s leaving me! To go with Elini and John and… and Rhen!” she nearly spits out the name.

He says nothing for a time, holding her while her cries gradually fade. Still, if Alaya had been able to see his face, she might have found his thoughtful gaze to be somewhat at odds with his soothing gestures. “Leaving you?” he ventures finally, when it becomes apparent that Alaya is not about to say more. “Where are they going?”

“The Land of the D-D-Dead,” she wails. “They are all to journey together and leave me to rot on my own!”

Even on a demon, true joy can bring a smile that poets might describe as a ray of sunshine. On a face of such aching beauty as Nanghaithya’s, the joy lit his face as though a star had come to shine in the darkness of the hall. His voice, though, reflects none of it, but only tender concern as he asks her, “They are going to leave you alone?”

“They are going to send me off to some stupid Academy of Magic or something. Elini says…Elini says it is not safe for me to travel into the Underworld until I learn how to bind demons. But it isn’t fair! You objey me, don’t you? I’d probably be safer than she will be. I’m a better demon summoner, aren’t I? She’s just jealous!”

“No doubt she is, my little one,” murmurs Nanghaithya. “I have no doubt you could handle yourself admirably – even in the Demon Realm.”

“Oh Nanghaithya, do you really think so?” For a moment joy washes over her aching soul, and she relaxes into his embrace. “You’re not just saying it, are you?” She pulls back to look him in the eye, “because if you are…” she raises her fist threateningly.

Laughing, Nanghaithya catches up her arm and pulls her closer to him. “No, my little one. I think Elini is a fool to leave such a talented Demon Summoner behind. But I have heard the wise say that where one door closes another may open.”

“What door, Nanghaithya? Whare are you talking about?”

“Only this, my little one. If you are very brave and very strong, I can teach you magic undreamt of by Elini or any of her kind. I can make you the most powerful Demon Summoner the world has ever known.”

“Truly?” the word is a whisper, a sigh. Very nearly a prayer rising in the darkness.

“If you can be brave.”

“Oh, Nanghaithya. I can be brave.”

And if his face had shone like a star before, now it was as if a moon blazed full in the darkness.

Oops. Never leave a rebellious but powerful child alone

(jk)... Have to agree with you there, aisling. Couldn't think of anything to contradict it... ()
I love the part about the ray of sunshine smile
even on demons.
I wonder if it's really all that happy to see a demon smiling, though.
(jk)

nanghaithya!



(okay...that's the closest thing they had to a fainting smilie.)

more to the point, i think he deserves his own story. i like him better than my nanghaithya. (only don't tell either one of them that i said that. XD)
i loved the imagery too. good thing she wasn't actually looking at him.
awesome chapter! one of the best so far!

@all: Oh my goodness... I'm sorry to have totally disappeared. I hope that some of you out there might still remember my story and be interested in it. I'm afraid I got a bit stuck and then again, I've been working on some different writing projects. But, well, I really do like this story, and playing Av3 has got me back in the whole Aveyond mindset.

Anyway, this chapter picks Dameon's thread up again. If for some strange reason you don't remember what Dameon's been up to, you can look back to Chapter 31. (Dameon's been quiet for a while, I guess).

@aislingyngaio:

@Mu11berry: I am sure that I wouldn't want to see it!

@kaz: Thanks! He's quite a character, and a lot of fun to write.

*****

Chapter 37

Dameon awakes to darkness. Blacker than night, he can see nothing at all, not even the faintest glimmer to tell him that his eyes are open. But he can hear. A distant keening rides the air, it’s shrill call piercing his skull like a dagger.

He raises his hand to rub his aching temple, but before his hand reaches skin he is surprised by the feel of cold metal bumping painfully against his head, followed a moment later by the loud clatter of metal against stone as his fingers fly open dropping a burden he had not realized he carried.

Where am I?

Cautiously he rolls to his knees, rubbing his temples as he tries to piece together the fractured impressions that race through his brain. He is mildly surprised, at first, to find that the ache in his head is fading before he remembers that he is adept at such healing magic.

Talia... Rhen... Eithera... Darius!

The names float through his mind and he feels icy tendrils of fear clenching around his heart. Rhen. There had been something terribly important about Rhen. Something to do with Eithera. Something he had forgotten and only just remembered. His mother. The Dreamer. He had been in Dream. He had had something important to do, something for his father. His father. Who wasn’t dead, after all. He could finally make his father proud of him, make his father love him.

What was I supposed to do?

And then, the pieces drop into place. Darius had sent him to destroy The Dreamer while Eithera went to destroy Rhen. And like some pathetic puppy dog, he had been eager to to do their bidding even while they destroyed any chance he had ever had for happiness in this life.

He raises his head and mutters a spell. A soft light glows from between his fingers and he sees the Nightmare dagger glittering sullenly on the stone floor of the store room.

What happened?

He had been in this very spot when Talia appeared. He remembers threatening her with the dagger, threatening the Dreamer in her own realm. “Stop, Mother!” he had said. I would not say a word if I were you. I cannot allow you to cast a spell just now.” He had raised the Nightmare Dagger to her throat.

And then, reality, or Dream, had shattered around him.

He cannot remember what happened next, a kaliedescope of images whirls through his mind. The Dreamer laughing at him. The Dreamer howling in agony as the Dagger nicks her throat. The very air of the Dream turning against him, holding him as still as if he were encased in stone. The Dreamer falling to her knees, pleading for her life while he towers over her, an inferno of rage. Laughter. Tears. Screams. Blood. Sorrow. Defeat. Despair.

He picks up the Nightmare Dagger with distaste and hastily sheathes it before getting slowly to his feet. Darius will be pleased, no doubt. He wonders why the thought does not bring him more pleasure. He must make his way quickly to Stronghold Temple, but first he will have to return to Darius.

*****

Darius’ cavern is a whirlwind of activity when Dameon emerges from the portal. A dozen demons surround his father, each calling more urgently than the last for a moment of their leader’s attention. Despite the commotion, Darius spots Dameon right away.

“Ah, my son,” he says cheerfully, “You have done a great deed, today. A great deed. Demons will be singing your praises for a thousand years and more. The Dreamer was right to fear your power. Truly you have lived up to your potential today.”

Dameon forces himself to smile and wave heartily, but Darius’ attention has already returned to the demons clamouring around him. Dameon sighs and begins to fight his way through the throng.

“Father,” calls Dameon when he finally makes it to the front of the ring. “Father, I must speak with you.”

“Dameon? Why are you here?” says Darius, evidently surprised to see Dameon in the midst of his war council. “Surely you must be tired. A hero should rest after his exertions.”

“No, father, I am not tired. In fact,” Dameon is thinking rapidly now, trying to suppress the fear gnawing at his belly, while he works up a suitable reason for his next request. “I hoped to press you for a small favor.”

“A favor?” asks Darius with a hint of irritation. “Can it not wait a few minutes? Just until things have settled down a bit, and we can talk in leisure.”

“Actually, father, I was hoping to rejoin Eithera. I believe that she has returned to her temple, and we have some ah… unfinished business there,” he ends somewhat lamely, afraid to mention Rhen, even obliquely, lest he betray himself.

His father, gratefully, is much too pre-occupied to notice Dameon’s discomfort. He winks knowingly. “A little private celebration? Yes, certainly a hero should celebrate. You would like the services of a Wyvern to get you there quickly, I take it.”

Dameon nods mutely, and his father claps him on the shoulder. He gestures prefunctorily to a demon standing outside of the main throng. “Go on, then,” says Darius. “Fylter, there will take care of you.”

And so it is that within only a span of minutes he is once again astride a wyvern, speeding toward Stronghold Temple with Death written in his heart.

Yay! You updated! I love this Dameon part! Finally, he feels remorse.

O.O er... Talia really died?

@destinyluck: Poor Dameon. He has a lot to feel remorseful about!

@aislingyngaio: I'm never sure how best not to answer questions like that...

@all: This chapter continues Rhen's thread, which was last seen in Chapter 32. Thanks for reading!

*****

Chapter 38:

Rhen crawls onto the rocky shore and collapses. She feels as though she has been swimming for days. The baby strapped to her back begins to protest feebly at the change in her movements. She forces herself up so she can release the ties and examine the baby. She is shivering so badly that she can barely work her fingers. A particularly sharp blast of icy winds cuts through the meager protection of her light clothes. She whispers a brief prayer of thanks that whatever she had been swimming through, it apparently was not water. If her clothes were wet now, she knows that she would have already frozen to death.

The baby is barely breathing and it’s skin has taken on a ghastly shade of blue. She fights back tears – no time now – she must find shelter for herself and the baby. Alicia will never forgive her if she dies now, before she even manages to make her way back to the world of the living. She snuggles the baby inside her shirt. It feels as though she has nestled a block of ice against her chest. The howl of the wind grows louder, and icy particles of snow drive like daggers into her skin. Neither she nor her child will survive long if she cannot find shelter.

It is hard to see far. It is hard to see at all. She can barely open her eyes against the wicked cold of the wind and blowing snow obscures all but the immediate area. She cannot tell for certain, but it seems that she sees a slight darkening off to one side at the limits of her vision. Hoping against hope that the vague shape promises shelter, she stumbles toward it.

The shape takes on form more rapidly than she expects. It is closer than she had thought, and much much smaller than she had hoped; no larger than a man. So this is it, she thinks, this is where it ends. “I am sorry, baby,” she murmurs against its head. “You deserved a better chance than I could give you.” She realizes that she is crying only when the tears freeze against her cheek. Still, she struggles over the rocks, fighting her way through the wind and towards the dark shape. She has nowhere else to go.

The wind ceases without warning and she stumbles badly, twisting an ankle painfully as she catches herself from falling. The dark shape she sees now is just a man, a man dressed in strange, bluish spiky armor staring out to sea. There is no shelter, save that the air here is still and warm enough that she can feel the cold rising from her bones. So racked by shivers is she that she can do no more than to pant through chattering teeth as the man turns to face her, and Rhen realizes that she has just made her last mistake.

“My dear Sword Singer,” says Agas sketching a courtly bow. “What an unexpected pleasure it is to see you.”

Rhen shivers helplessly.

“You don’t seem happy to see me, Sword Singer,” the demon says with a mock pout.

Rhen looks away.

Agas watches her intently for several minutes before turning back to regard the sea, absently fingering a thick gold band that encircles his neck. Finally, he nods slightly to himself. “Darius will be most pleased to see you. Most pleased.”

“Dar-Dar-ius?” Rhen manages to push out between shivers. “D-Dameon’s father, Darius?” Her voice is starting to come back under her control.

“Yes, Dameon’s father Darius,” says Agas sharply. “He has taken Ahriman’s place.”

“I will not go,” Rhen says firmly. “I would rather die.”

Agas laughs. “I’m afraid it is too late for that, Chosen One.” He looks around with obvious distaste. “Your soul wanders the Demon Realm now, and here it will stay forever more.”

Rhen roars in anger, drawing her sword and slicing in a single motion. The sword cuts through the demon’s neck, an inch above his shoulders, just as she had intended. And yet his head does not fall. He stands watching her, amusement written clear on his face.

“You are not paying attention, Sword Singer,” he says. “This is my realm.” He waves his hand negligently, and Rhen feels the air solidfy around her. “I am afraid that there is no hope for you, Chosen One. He very much wishes to see you, and what he wants he always gets, one way or the other.”

“No. No. No no no no…” Rhen is surprised to find that she is speaking. Agas waves his hand irritably, and the sound cuts off, though in her mind it continues, an unending river of denial.

“You are lost, Chosen One,” he hisses. “Darius will have your soul now. Likely he will put you up on a throne next to him. There is nothing, I am sure, that he would like better than to make the Chosen One,” and his voice drips with sarcasm, “the Queen of All Demons. No, there is nothing I can do about it, even if I so desired to cross him.”

He regards her silently for a time, his face a mask betraying no hint of his thoughts. “You were a worthy enemy, once,” he says finally. “I might be able to do you a favor.” He pauses again, and Rhen is humiliated to feel hope surging unbidden through her chest.

After a moment, he shrugs slightly and begins to speak again. “You see,” he says, tugging again at the band around his neck, “Darius wishes the Chosen One to… understand… his perspective in all of this.” He gestures vaguely all around. “It would be more than my life is worth to cross him in such an important detail. He has not, however, said a solitary word about the Chosen One’s child.” Agas turns again towards her, and pulls back the neck of Rhen’s shirt to stare intently at the child nestled there. Rhen would pull away, if she could, but she is held tight by the air. He watches the child intently for what seems like an eternity. Rhen cannot even begin to follow the slurry of emotions that cross his face. “I would hazard a guess that he does not even know the Chosen One carries a child.” He glances at her questioningly, but Rhen does not even know what he is asking.

“What… what are you suggesting?” she says hoarsely.

“It is up to you, of course, Chosen One. I can bring your child’s soul as easily as yours to Darius. He will be most appreciative, I am sure. For such an unexpected prize, I might well be able to restore my standing..." he trails off, staring again out to sea. He draws a deep breath. "Or, I could -- at great personal risk to myself -- with no possible thought of reward from Darius -- have your child’s soul taken out of this cursed realm, and raised in the world of men.”

“How?” breathes Rhen, hope and wonder creeping into her voice despite her intentions.

Agas smiles, and Rhen feels her heart drop at the cold gleam in his eyes. “I have a friend – a very good friend – who would be... overjoyed... to raise a child such as this."

Rhen's eyes narrow suspcisiously. "Why? Why would you do this? Why should I let you?"

Agas turns back to his study of the water. "As I said, Sword Singer, you were a worthy enemy once. As, perhaps, was I. The world has changed around us, the old ways fading. Who among the living has shared as much with me as you? It is, as I also have already said, a favor. Do not make me repeat myself again."

"What would you gain from this, demon?"

Agas returns his attention to her, to her baby, and she would cower away from the anger she sees in his eyes, but she is still held fast by the air. "Do not waste my time, Sword Singer. You are running out of choices. Let me make myself perfectly clear. I will take your wretched soul to Darius, where he will do with you what he will. If you choose to keep your child's soul with you, than your child will also enjoy Darius' eternal... hospitality. You are lost, Chosen One. Only I can give your child a chance."

“No.” The word is out of Rhen’s mouth before she can even think it. “No. No.” Rhen bangs her knees sharply on the rocks and cries out in surprise. The cursed demon had released her from his spell, and she had not even had the strength to remain standing.

Agas shrugs. “Very well. Shall we be on our way?” He raises his arms and Rhen can feel the power crackling in the air.

“Wait!” she calls out, desperately, before she loses her nerve. “Wait. I will...”

Agas watches her shrewdly, but says nothing nor makes any move.

Rhen casts her eyes down at the ground, her voice sounds dead to her ears as she forces the words out. "Please, Daeva. Please save my child."

Agas smiles with delight. “Your word is my command, my lady. I shall return shortly.” He raises his arm and calls out in a tongue that Rhen does not recognize. In a few moments, a wyvern is landing beside him. He climbs easily onto its back and disappears into the blowing snow.

Rhen is caught in a rip-tide of forboding and despair. She wants to scream into sky, to wail and to rage, to call down lightning to strike her dead on the spot. Instead she gathers her baby close to her chest and tries to walk away. She does not get far. Within a few footsteps she is outside of the protective shield that had surrounded Agas. The cold bites into her with renewed ferocity. Already her baby is turning blue. There is no shelter. None, save the warm calm air that remained after Agas left.

Agas had been right. She is running out of choices. If she tries to flee Agas, her baby will die... or be trapped forever in the Demon Realm. And doubtless Agas would find her anyway. With wyveryns at his command, where could she possibly hide?

She returns to the spot where she had found Agas. This way, at least her child may have a chance. Her child and Dameon's. She cries softly against the baby's head while she settles down to wait.

(Revised 6/21/2009)

Eithera?!!! Are you serious?! Hmm, I wonder how Dameon will feel when he sees Rhen as his father's queen and his mother.

@destinyluck -- am I serious? No, but Agas may be. I have been struggling with this scene -- of what exactly happens to Rhen when she finds herself on the shores of the Demon Realm -- for over a year... well over a year. But I think I posted too early. I don't like the way it flowed. So, I've substantially revised the second half of the chapter.

@all: The second half of Chapter 38 (above) has been very substantially revised.

So, who's the mysterious caregiver? Is it still Eithera?

Well, it's only been a year and half! Sorry. I don't know if anyone remembers this story, but I do. And it's time for the next chapter.

If you are returning, I hope you enjoy it. If you are just starting, welcome!

This story picks up with Talver, Pirate John, Elini and Rhen's soul-less body (whom we last saw in Chapter 36)

***

Chapter 39:


“I can take you no further.”

Talver stares down the mountain pass, keeping his eyes fixedly on the ground. Behind them lay the darkness of the world of the Dead. The trek had been harrowing, for the living and the dead are meant to stay in their own worlds. Without Ra’ana to guide them they would surely have been lost forever. She had been waiting for them when they passed through Rashnu's portal, which should not have discomfitted him nearly as much as it did. He knew very well how accurately she could read the future.

Yes, behind them lay darkness and madness. He would gladly go back, even unguided, than face what lay ahead.

“The Demon Realm is none of my concern,” says Ra’ana softly.

John and Elini were settled against some rocks some paces back, tending to Rhen and resting before the next stage of their journey. They had stayed tactfully back, out of earshot, to allow Talver this time, alone with the spirit of his old love.

“Nor is the land of the living. Still, I worry. Who are these women who hold the balance of the world in their hands?” Ra’ana waits for an answer, but Talver has no answers for her. She looks away then, staring out into the wildly striated sky of the Demon Realm. “I had hoped you would choose thus, though the world may suffer for it. What do I care for the world of the living? I was cast out, and I have waited. Talver, stay with me. You have brought them this far. Let your demon summoner guide them now. We can be together now and no one will ever keep us apart again.”

Talver does not answer right away. Her words are deeply disconcerting. Had he chosen wrong? Should he have chosen Alaya over Rhen? Or had he even chosen to help Rhen? Perhaps his true reason had been to see Ra’ana once again. He is afraid to even look at her. He raises his eyes from the ground to see the Demon Realm spread out before him like a nightmare. What would he give to avoid wandering that landscape of horror? He feels the locket against his chest, though he is not fool enough to to look at it. It burns against his skin: Rhen, a woman he has loved from afar since he was a child; Alaya whose anguish at his betrayal pulls him like a lodestone. And Ra’ana. Ra’ana will ever be his first love, loved deeply and truly with the abandon only possible to children, whose hearts have not yet learned caution.

“I wish I could stay,” says Talver finally, not taking his eyes away from the mesmerizing sky in front of him. Looking at her, he knows, would be his undoing. “There is no way for me but forward, I’m afraid. Too many string out there, pulling at me. Somewhere down there,” he gestures widely at the panorama spread before them, “somewhere is a door that leads to the rest of my life. I must find it, Ra’ana.” His voice trails off to nearly a whisper. “I must.”

“So be it,” says Ra’ana with a finality that chills Talver’s blood. He looks, finally, into her eyes and sees that one door, at least, has closed to him forever. “Seek no quarter in the Realm of the Dead, lest you plan to stay for eternity. I will guide you no more.” For the briefest of moments, Talver thinks that he sees a chink in her armour, a sadness so profound that it threatens to swallow him. “Farewell, Talver. I do not think I shall ever see you again.”

Talver nods, not trusting his voice, not trusting himself. She gazes at him for a moment longer and then simply fades from sight. He turns back towards the Demon Realm, losing himself in contemplation of the shifting strands of red and black in the sky.

Pirate John counts silently to one hundred, slowly, and then back down to zero. He and Elini have discussed everything that needs discussing, at least for the moment, and now she is resting. It will be time to continue, soon, and then there will be time for neither for resting nor discussing.

He walks slowly up to Talver and clasps him on the shoulder. “You should rest, now.”

Talver turns to face him looking a bit wild around the eyes. “We should not tarry,” he says. “Even now, Rhen could be in the clutches of some demon.”

John shrugs. “Then the world is already lost,” he winces a bit at the harshness of his words. “Talver, you have done well. Elini will guide us from here, but she must rest first. Soon, all too soon, I’m afraid, the four of us will certainly be in the clutches of a demon and Elini must be strong enough to control it – in the Demon Realm, where the demon will hold all the advantages. Rest now. Let us not be foolhardy in our rush to destruction. In the morning, or whatever passes for morning here, Elini will seek to summon a demon guide for us.”

Oh my gosh!! How long has it been? I missed this story so much, and I come back after 1 year and very coinidentally you updated! I love this story! I love the new chapters! Don't ever stop updating!