“He created the Tree of Life, Dwerynef. Life started at that tree. All who walk Zoria, whether beast or man, came from Dwerynef. First came the Scions, magical beasts that dominated Zoria. Dragons ruled the sky, hydras the marshes, and unicorns the forests. Griffons topped the mountains, and from the oceans, sea serpents dominated. Next came the lesser creatures. For each creature, fruit bloomed and fell, so swollen that when it hit the ground, it split open.”
Sunlight streamed in through the windows that circled the room. Balin turned around. Damir stood within reach. His gaze was fixated on the angel. Balin could feel the sudden weight of their fate on his chest.
“Lar then created the angels, to rule in nefl with him and take council over the land of Zoria. Then, to protect Zoria and Dwerynef, Lar created the Gaean. We have lived since the dawn of time, up to a thousand years before expiring. For the first thousand years, peace prevailed. But not all remained calm in nefl. nefl was at war as an angel rebelled. This war spread from nefl down into Zoria and, with it, took many casualties.”
Would history repeat itself? Balin had heard the stories as a boy. He knew what the Scriptures said. He had told himself they were fables. Why else would the Child-God abandon him?
But now, here he stood, at the brink of war and surrounded by the warriors of Lar. He didn’t fight for the Child-God. He didn’t believe in Zoria’s salvation. He believed in Damir.
“At the start of the Omega War, angels fell and took shape as daemons, led by Cythra. They tried to garner control over Dwerynef, and Cythra demanded her spot at the top of the hierarchy.” Elder Judaea paused to briefly catch his breath, then continued on. “Lar was saddened by this, because Cythra was his favorite of all the angels, and she had betrayed him. Scions joined the angels in battle against Cythra and her legion of daemons. The Gaeans fought hard to protect Dwerynef, and many died. The roots of Dwerynef were stained crimson.”
Balin struggled to hold onto his disbelief in Lar. How could one being hold such supreme power? Especially when so many horrible things existed in the world. His doubt was cracking, though.
Maybe there is more out there. But if so, why has the Child-God allowed Damir—all of us—to suffer?
Even if Lar existed, Balin still would not believe. Not when he allowed Zoria to suffer.
“In the end, Lar and his angels won and banished Cythra and her daemons into the darkness of the Nothingness. There malltod was born, a place of true damnation. The Gaean race was all but extinct, as well as the Scions and many of Zoria’s creatures.” Elder Judaea’s voice drifted over Balin in a raspy monotone. He watched them with sightless eyes, but Balin couldn’t shake the feeling that Elder Judaea could see straight through them. “In gratitude for the Scions that had sacrificed themselves in the name of the Child-God, Lar sent them into the sky and turned them in the stars as constellations. Then, to right the disturbed balance of life, Dwerynef birthed a fifth type of fruit. From its tender flesh came humans. They replenished the fallen numbers for the Gaean.”
Balin absorbed Zoria’s history in silence. It was but a tiny mark in the vast lineage of their world, a small grain in the sands of time.
“Find Dwerynef, and you find not only the fruit of immortality, but the portal to nefl. Belial must not find this passage.” Elder Judaea slammed his staff down on the floor in emphasis.
“And how do you propose we stop him? If Dwerynef was sealed away, how will we find it? If no one has found it yet, then it seems to me it’s doing a pretty good job of staying hidden,” Balin scoffed.
Elder Judaea hobbled over to him, thrust his staff up, and clipped Balin in the underside of his jaw. “Fool, if it were that simple, then no one would still search for it. Things that are lost are simply that, lost. You can always find what you have lost if you look hard enough.”
Balin rubbed his sore jaw and glowered down at the shriveled man. Damir absently patted his arm.
“General Gaius harnesses a weapon that counters my powers. What do you know about it?” Damir asked Elder Judaea.
“I’ve heard legends of a pendant, the Animus Subversor. The legend says it was crafted from a
mooncyprus
and a fallen star, but I’m afraid this is all I know on the item.”
“Great, so we have a weapon we know nothing about, we need to find the hidden passage to nefl, and we need to protect it. How do we find it, then? How do we keep Dwerynef safe?” It seemed to Balin that they were getting more questions than answers.
“The Staff of Metatron,” Zephyr answered for Elder Judaea. “But it isn’t here, is it, old man?”
“Such insolent saviors,” Elder Judaea grumbled under his breath. “Just because you do not see it does not mean it isn’t here.”
Elder Judaea swung his staff around and pointed to the giant diamond cupped in the angel’s opened hands. Softly a delicate light lit inside the stone, an undulation of life as it steadily grew brighter. Balin held his hand up to shield his eyes against the incandescence.
They remained frozen. Israel gasped sharply. Balin jerked his eyes away and studied Israel’s blank expression. Israel’s fingers twitched, and his eyes glazed over.
“Love?” Zephyr asked as he reached for Israel’s hand.
In a flash, a beam shot out and slammed into Israel’s face. His body flew backward several feet, hit the ground, and bounced off the tile.
A shriek of pain escaped Israel. His back bowed, and his body convulsed as he let out a bloodcurdling scream. He reached up and clawed at the light that burned around him. Disjointed screeches echoed, agonized cries as Israel was swallowed in a world beyond torment, beyond recognition of suffering.
“Israel!” Zephyr shouted and rushed to his lover. He reached out to grab him, but a spark shot out from Israel’s body and threw Zephyr across the room. He hit the floor hard and groaned.
“Z—Zephyr!” Israel’s voice cracked as he screamed for Zephyr. His hands planted flat against the floor, his body writhed as the light ate away at him. The acrid scent of burning flesh filled the chamber. “Zephyr! Help me!
Please
!”
Zephyr picked himself up and spun around to Elder Judaea. His face was twisted in unrestrained fury. He lunged at the Gaean. Balin grabbed Zephyr around the waist and hauled him back before Zephyr could kill Elder Judaea.
“Let me go! I’m going to rip that mummified bastard’s heart out! What did you do to him? Make it stop!” Zephyr screamed at Elder Judaea. He bucked against Balin.
“Zephyr!” Israel’s screams became unbearable. Balin winced at the sound as he tightened his arms around Zephyr.
Israel’s wails grew higher. Zephyr roared like an enraged beast, threw a fist out, and caught Balin across the face. Stars briefly danced in his eyes. He shook his head to clear his vision. Elma and Damir tried to reach Israel but were sent flying by another spark. Balin held fast to Zephyr even as the sky captain twisted tenaciously in his arms.
Eventually Israel’s pleas fell silent, and he collapsed on the floor. Smoke could be seen wafting up from around his face. Israel rolled onto his side and curled into a ball, a whimper escaping him.
Zephyr ripped away from Balin and rushed to Israel’s side. He collapsed to his knees and drew Israel toward him. Israel struggled to pull away, attempted to hide his face. A sob wrenched from him.
“What did you do? What happened?” Elma demanded from Elder Judaea. Her eyes were wide with panic.
Damir crouched in front of Zephyr and Israel, reached out to brush black hair from Israel’s face. “I may be able to heal it.”
“That will not heal. He has been chosen,” Elder Judaea stated.
“You decrepit slug, what did you do to him? I swear to Lar, I’ll kill you!” Zephyr yelled. He dropped his head to press a kiss to Israel’s forehead, whispering, “Shh, love, it’s okay. I’ve got you. It’ll be okay.”
Balin crouched beside Damir and took a look at the damage. The flesh around Israel’s left eye had melted into the shape of a diamond, leaving a crude third-degree burn.
Miraculously Israel’s eye had not been destroyed, but that wasn’t to say it hadn’t been affected. Israel’s left orb was no longer the color of nightshades. It had been turned black, a thin white line running down the center of it.
“Sweet Scion,” Zephyr whispered in horror.
Israel jerked away, and his hands flew up. Zephyr pulled them away before Israel could touch the ruined flesh, and shook his head. He held Israel closer. Israel wept into his chest.
Balin turned sharply around and rose to his feet. “What do you mean, he’s been chosen? You could have warned him!”
“The staff has chosen him. You now possess the Staff of Metatron, and it shall lead you,” Elder Judaea said.
Balin looked at Israel, who shook uncontrollably in Zephyr’s arms.
“Please,” Elder Judaea pleaded, “save Zoria.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Light before the Dark
Upon returning to Crystalis Castle, King Auric announced a grand celebration in honor of Zoria’s champions. Elma had been welcomed back with a mixture of relief and anger. King Auric had smiled knowingly, murmured that she was just like her departed mother, and had taken her into his arms.
Damir now stood awkwardly to the side of the ballroom. He was dressed in clothes he would never dream of wearing, a suit tailored to his body and made from the finest fabric in Kalrune. The cerulean double-breasted vest was fastened with buttons inlaid with mother-of-pearl and embroidered with delicate silver thread. Knotted around his neck was a white silk cravat fastened with a pearl stud. His hair was swept from his face and tucked behind his ears.
Balin approached with two crystal flutes of champagne in his hands and a wry grin in place. His hair had been smoothed from his face with a few unruly wisps breaking the coiffure. He had turned down the offer for an extravagant outfit and instead had chosen a white tunic with an elegantly embroidered red overtunic and black breeches. A leather belt was buckled around his waist, a new dagger at his ready. The fabric hugged his wide shoulders in a way that made Damir’s stomach flip. He wanted to abandon the party and retire to their rooms, but he was afraid to insult the king.
“You have remained against the wall the entire evening,” Balin pointed out as he handed Damir his glass. Bubbles floated to the surface as Damir took a sip. The sweet drink tickled his tongue.
“I don’t know what to do with myself, if I’m to be honest. And I can’t help but think how…” Damir trailed off as he looked over the ballroom. Ivory columns with gilded edges circled the room. A mural covered the high ceiling, and from its center a giant golden chandelier dangled. The marble floors were a work of art, polished until it seemed as if the Lumixander nobility were dancing on mirrors. To one side, a quartet played; to the other, King Auric sat with Princess Elma at his side. Prince Bardulf had yet to return from the front lines along the edge of Kalrune.
“Elina would love this,” Balin finished for him. His wry smile melted into a sad one.
“Will it ever stop hurting?” It felt like a stale question, but he would ask until the answer was yes.
“No. Because you’ll always remember her,” Balin answered truthfully. Damir looked away. Balin brushed blond bangs from Damir’s eyes and drew his gaze back. “But the pain will lessen, and one day you’ll be able to live with it. You’ll find strength in it. Elina would be happy to see what you have become, to see what you are doing.”
Damir reached up and touched the pendant still strung around his neck, hidden beneath his cravat. He had yet to remove the pendant. Damir let his fingers fall away to his side. He nodded bravely.
“Right.”
Balin smiled and finished his glass of champagne in a few quick gulps. He set the glass on the tray of a passing waiter.
“Come with me,” Balin said and held his hand out. Damir eyed it speculatively. Balin wiggled his fingers and jested, “Are you scared?”
Damir screwed his nose up and set his flute of champagne down as well, his eyes warming. He took Balin’s hand. “You can dance? I see that there are still many things I don’t know.”
“I am an enigma,” Balin teased and drew Damir toward the waltzing crowd. A few sidelong glances were thrown their way, but Damir ignored them; all that mattered to him was the feel of Balin’s hands.
Full ball gowns spun around them. Layers of silk and lace glided over marble. Cessna danced awkwardly with Lazarus, a lopsided grin on her face. Even in her gown, she still sported a pair of goggles on top of her head. Lazarus’s eyes twinkled adoringly as he stared down at her.
Damir could see Allen beside the buffet of food with a mouthful of sweet cakes and streusel. Pyxis wasn’t too far away, blushing madly as he spoke with a young woman.
Balin spun Damir into his arms and began the steady canter of a waltz. Damir looked up into Balin’s eyes, breath stolen from him. Balin was a thief who’d struck without warning, pilfering Damir’s heart. Only Balin could not steal what Damir gave freely.
Softly, filled with more courage than he realized he had, Damir said, “I love you.”
Balin never faltered in his step. Held close together so their hearts beat against each other, Balin bowed his head and whispered, “I love you too. You are the light in my darkness; you have been from the moment I woke that day.”
Damir leaned forward and pressed his lips against Balin’s. Mouths still pressed together, Damir murmured, “I’ll never let you go. Even if Zoria falls away and the nine levels of malltod rise up, I’ll never let you go, Balin. I don’t care about your past, about what you did. I love you. I’ll always find you, always be there for you.”
Balin rested a hand on Damir’s lower back, let their bodies sway as they fell away from the crowd and became lost in one another. He leaned forward and murmured into Damir’s ear, “The stars could never shine brighter than you.”
Damir rose on his toes and nuzzled the side of Balin’s cheek. He sighed blissfully and whispered, “Why don’t I show you just how bright I can shine?”
Balin let out a low growl and tightened his hold. Damir smiled and lowered himself down. Balin spun Damir, and the ballroom twirled around him. He could see Ramiro approach Elma, one hand clasped behind his back. Ramiro bowed in greeting to the king, and Damir just knew Ramiro was asking for the young princess’s hand in dance.