Enthroned by Amethysts (A Dance with Destiny Book 3) (32 page)

“Open your ears and hear me, little one.” He cupped her cheeks in his hands. “Although you have sent many giant waves rolling throughout this universe, Father is pleased with you. Your destinies were accomplished, albeit by extraordinarily different means. Alas, what you were meant to do, you did.”

“So, why do I feel the weight of the world is upon me?”

“Because… it is.” He sighed heavily. “You have heard it said…
Every life you touch is changed by that touch.
Because of your wrong choices and extremely altered course, you passed through people’s lives you were never meant to meet, never meant to touch. Thus, your ripple altered their ripple, you might say.”

“And… tiny ripples grow as they spread,” she whispered.

“Exactly.” He stood, reaching down his hand. “Do you know what happens when those ripples reach the banks?” He pulled her to her feet.

“They return from whence they came.”

“Ahh, that they do, Little Fire. What you have sent out into this vast universe, returns to you now.”

“My tidal wave?”

He chuckled. “Normally, but in your case…”

“A tsunami.”

“Yes.” He glanced at her profile. “Don’t take such worry on your heart, Naga. Many ripples have been added to yours. Many are to blame for this coming war. Yours is but a part of it.” He took her hand in his as they walked. “Every being has a choice. No matter what obstacle,
or ripple
, was sent their way. They had a choice to make. They are each responsible for their own actions, their own decisions. They will also have to answer for their part in this.”

“Yet it comes back to me.”

“Yes, it does. It will all come to your doorstep first, Milady.” He gave her hand a little squeeze. “It’s not because of guilt, Little Fire, but because of responsibility. You’re the one who has been blessed with such amazing things, such rare abilities. Remember what I told you never to forget?”

“Every curse has a blessing and every blessing has a curse.”

“Very good.” He patted her head like an obedient child. “You have received the greatest blessings, Naga. Now, you are cursed with the awesome responsibility. It is as it should be.”

“So, ending this war is my responsibility?”

“It is. Only
you
have been blessed with the talents to accomplish such a thing. The responsibility comes along with it.”

“As it should,” she whispered.

“Yes.” He gave her tiny hand another comforting squeeze. “As it should.”

Chapter 45

Dimthe Leard

(demth LEE-ard)

 

 

 

When Vittorio touched down in Dimthe Leard, he looked out upon an endless sea of demons, dark Angels, and dead men.

“Hell has spilled out into the day,” Vareilious grumbled.

“Aye, that it has, Brother. Do ye doubt my words now?”

“I do not. How can I?” Tears, caused by the realization of what this forced apocalypse could only mean, spilled down Vareilious’s blood-stained face.

“One thing bothers me aboot all this,” Vittorio said.

Vareilious snorted. “Only one?”

“Aye, Brother, I’m haunted by my heart. How is it I can still feel my wee lass dancing aboot inside me?”

Vareilious looked at his brother Vanir.

“I always thought mine would quit beating the moment hers did,” Vittorio whispered.

“The first five layers are lost,” Varick said as he approached.

“And what of Praetoria?” Varillum asked.

Varick shook his head. “I am certain of nothing. Reports.”

“Aye, Brother, I was on Lyra. If any lived, they were in hiding for I saw them nae.”

“I went to Ashgard,” Vareilious added. “Not all were lost. Perhaps a tenth yet remains.”

“Unlucky devils,” Vinika mumbled as she approached. “I went to Praetoria first and then Spadroon. There are mighty warriors on both layers. Half of them were standing when I left.” She wiped the blood from her blade across her tunic. “Disease will claim half of those.”

“Valen, what say you of Byzantha?” Varick asked.

“They are not warriors.” Valen lowered his head.

“No, I guess they’re not,” Varick whispered.

“He attacked the weaker layers first, the ones ruled mostly by magic.” Varillum began her report. “The ones where he could do the most damage, the ones with the most innocent of races. When the demons got to layer five, they did not fare as well. The valiant men of Val Hal rose up en masse, dealing a heavy blow to hell’s spawns. They lost only a quarter of their people. Mostly the very old and the very young.”

“Aye, an’ that could prove a deadlier blow than ye guess.” Vittorio looked at Varillum. “Removing the wise ones an’ the wee babes makes for a dreadfully bleak future.”

“Then by all reports, the first two layers of this universe have been completely annihilated.” Varick turned to Vinika. “When we see this to its end, those layers must be searched. Leave no stone unturned.” He continued the tragic summation. “The third and seventh layers still stand by half. The fourth is all but lost. The fifth layer prevailed. And here we stand upon the sixth.” He looked out toward the massive throng of twisted evil before them. “Seven layers, destroyed in little more than two years. What could have provoked hell to this extent?”

“Aye, ye know the answer, Brother,” Vittorio said.

“Show me proof or cease your words,” Varick snarled.

“You’re looking at all the proof anyone besides you needs.” Vareilious nodded toward the swollen battlefield.

“Tell me this, Brothers.” All eyes turned to Vinika. “The creatures you see before you—the demons, the dark Angels, the fallen ones—they have all known a form of death. We can kill demons. We can vanquish dark Angels. And if we remove the heart, we can send the fallen ones to Sheol. Yet, if hell’s gates are still swaying upon their hinges, what holds them there? How shall this end?
When
shall this end? We have fared so well because, up until this point, we slew them and they returned not to
us
… at least, not immediately. They left hell and went to a different layer to kill and mame. But not anymore, Brothers.
This
is where they have gathered…
this
is where they will return.”

“Aye, Sister, yer words are water upon our flame.”

“By all that’s holy,” Vareilious growled. “Someone must go to hell. Someone has to shut the gate and ensure it remains that way. I’m sick of killing the same damn demon over and over.”

“Yes, ‘tis true,” Varick said. “Unless the gates are locked and a guard set, we will continue this battle for eternity, to no avail.”

Vareilious narrowed his eyes and looked to Varick. “We need Apollyon.”

Vittorio shook his head. “Aye, there’ll be nae reasoning with that blue devil. Nae anymore.”

“No, we need the Angels,” Varick whispered. “Where are all the Angels?”

A war horn sounded in the distance. The valiant races of Dimthe Leard gathered under their prospective banners—the horsemen, the Elves, the Dwarfs, the men, and the Guardians. Thousands upon thousands made ready for war.

A loud clang, and the torturous sound of metal grinding upon metal, gave pause to their advance. The giant black gates creaked and strained as they slowly opened. The hordes of hell turned their backs to the valiant knights, entering the sulfurous land behind those walls… heeding their dark master’s call.

“He’s here,” Valen whispered. “I can see his sapphire wings spread forth upon the black tower.”

All eyes turned and followed the direction their brother was pointing.

It was true. Apollyon stood atop the battlements, wings outstretched. A collective tremor ran through the on-looking Guardians.

“Well, Brother.” Vareilious slapped Varick’s back. “You wondered where the Angels were. Now you know.”

“Those are not the Angels I was talkin—”

Varick’s words were cut off by a blaring trumpet. The skies exploded over the sixth layer realm. Lightning rained down upon the barren lands behind that massive gate.

The fallen ones took flight, ebony pinions dotting the skies. Leaving, abandoning their lesser cohorts to deal with the fury of heaven.

“He will
not
get away with this,” Varick hissed. “I won’t let him.”

The mad chaos within the walled fortress spilled out as the black gates creaked open once more. The King was ready. On his mighty command, the varied races of the realm of Dimthe Leard converged on the fleeing demons. The cacophony of battle drowned out all else.

Vareilious caught sight of his honored brother as Varick’s wings disappeared from view. He grabbed Vittorio’s arm, pulling him from the thrashing mob of swords, shields, and axes.

“He gave chase!” Vareilious yelled. “That bloody fool went after Apollyon!”

Heaven’s Angels filled the sky. Blood soaked the ground—sticky muck, rising up to stain the feet of warriors and demons alike. No one would leave this battlefield untouched. Anguished death cries were the marked cymbals in this horrible orchestra of war.

Two Guardians left the apocalyptic battlefield in pursuit of their maddened brother.

“Aye, battle rage has weakened his destroyed heart. We dunnae know which way he went. This is suicide, Brother.”

Vareilious pulled up short. “Let us think. There’s no way Apollyon went back to hell. The first seven layers are all but destroyed. He has no reason to return to
them
.”

“Earth hasnae been touched. I searched it myself,” Vittorio said.

“Yes. And Valencia has already covered layer nine. So, that only leaves—”

Vareilious stopped speaking when Vittorio grabbed him by the shoulder. The warriors turned to one another.

“How could we have been so blind?” Flames burned within Vareilious’s heavenly eyes. “Jinn has been the answer this whole time.”

“Aye, that wee devil girl, I’ll wring her neck myself,” Vittorio hissed.

“If Valencia had anything to do with Jenevier, I will sheath my sword and tear her open with my bare hands.”

“Aye, ye know she did, Brother. Who’s the only Vanir we’ve nae seen these last two bloody years? She was underfoot every single day until we questioned her aboot layer nine.”

“She did it, Vittorio,” Vareilious growled. “She killed Jenevier and then bragged about it to the Prince of Hell.”

“Aye, nae so fast, Brother. Jenevier hated Valencia. Human or nae, powers or nae, pregnant or nae, there’s nae way in hell Valencia could’ve killed her. Perhaps we’ve nae seen Varick’s little sister these last two years… because our fiery wee executioner laid
her
low.”

“I can only hope,” Vareilious murmured. “No more guessing, Brother. Do we go to Jinn or shall we gather our troops first?”

“Aye, Brother, ye do as ye will. As for me, I’m off for Jinn.”

The two warriors disappeared into the clouds only seconds before their feet touched down in a sea of lavender.

Chapter 46

Kagi Naga

(KAH-jee NAH-gah)

 

 

 

Stepping through the hanging vines, the angelic duo emerged atop a great waterfall overlooking an expansive valley ten times larger than the one she now called home.

“What
is
that?” Jenevier gasped, her knees buckling.

Munenori grabbed her. She clung to him, frightfully so, but her eyes remained fixed on the view before her.

“Dra… Dra… Dragons? B-but, they only exist in fairytales.”

He laughed. “I can assure you, Naga, your life is no fairytale.” He brushed the stray curls back that had fallen into her eyes. “And yet, here lie ye Dragons, Milady.”

“So,
this
is why you call me that. This is why you call me Kagi Naga.” She was speaking, but her mind was on the incredible, unreal creatures roaming the valley before her.

“Very good, tiny Angel. Naga is an ancient word for Dragon and Kagi is—”

“Fire.” She finished his sentence for him, but her word was filled with a childlike wonder and came out sounding more like fiiire.

“Yes, fire. Appropriate name, is it not?” He looked at her sideways. “You have fire in you, Naga.” He chuckled. “I mean, think about when first we met. Threatening to kill an Angel of God? Pfft. Kagi Naga suits you well, little warrior.”

He took her hand and led her down the mountain cliff. Her eyes remained fixed on the majestic pink creatures before her. Some were moving about the valley, but most were sitting on giant nests filled to the brim with shiny eggs
twice
as big as she was.

The magical beasts of lore watched her descent closely, but they did not stir. They weren’t bothered by her presence, merely curious.

“They are so beautiful.” She was filled with wonder and admiration, walking into a dream she never wished to wake from. “Sooo beautiful,” she whispered again.

“As is their Guardian.” Munenori tugged on her arm. “Come. Let’s make your proper introduction.”

“Introduction?”

He approached one of the largest Dragons sitting peacefully upon her nest. He placed his right hand in front of him, palm facing left. It reminded Jenevier of how her parents had taught her to hold her hands when she prayed.

Palms together, fingers pointing up.
The fond memory of her mother’s cheerful voice moistened her bewildered eyes.

Except, Munenori used only his right hand as he bowed low before the mighty creature.

Like… half a prayer.
She giggled inside when the thought popped into her mind.

Jenevier mimicked the Angel beside her.

“Namaste, Adalin. I have fulfilled your prophecy and now present you with your Guardian.”

The Dragon’s pink scales glistened and sparkled in the sunlight as it lowered its head down toward her. Munenori took her hand and placed it upon the creature’s nose. It felt warm and soft to her touch. Not cold and metallic as she had expected. She heard an echoing chuckle which seemed to emanate from a nonexistent cave. She jerked away. The mossy lavender Angel gently took her hand, placing it back above the sniffing nostrils.

Welcome, little one. We have waited for eons to meet you. I am Adalin, eldest of the she-Dragons. We welcome you, Naga.

The voice was so ethereal, so relaxing. It purred and hummed inside her.

She gazed deep into those bright golden eyes as she spoke. “Gratitude, most noble one. The honor is mine, entirely.”

Do not bow before me, Kagi Naga. You are the Guardian. I am merely your affinity.

Jenevier couldn’t help the giant smile now spread across her face. She leapt up, wrapping her arms as far as she could around the giant pink snout. The warm laughter echoed back, vibrating through her essence, and was joined by hundreds of other loving, laughing voices. She gasped.

“When you’re connected to one Dragon, Naga, you are connected to them all,” Munenori said.

She laughed like an overly excited child. “So,
you
are why my curls are different colors.”

I can only claim the ones matching my scales, Naga. The golden ones are for my brothers.

Jenevier turned in the direction Adalin had inclined her head. The valley seemed to stretch on forever.

You’re still in the nesting grounds, Guardian. There is much yet to see.

Her eyes grew wide with the unfathomable scene before her. Dragons were everywhere.

“Woooow.” She dragged the word out forever.

Adalin chuckled.

“B-but, I was born with th-the golden ones,” she mumbled absently.

She heard, and felt, the elder she-Dragon in her head.
Not so, Naga. You were born with blonde curls, yet now you don them in gold.

She turned her confused gaze to Munenori.

“She speaks true. There is much you still do not know. Our time is too short for everything except the absolute necessities. When we have banished hell, I will gladly spend the rest of eternity answering your questions. As for now…” He held out both his hands—they glowed.

At first, Jenevier thought fire shot up from his palms. When the glowing light dissipated, Munenori stood before her, armed with twin blades the likes of which she had never seen.

“Woooow…” She giggled. “Do that again.”

He cocked one eyebrow and tilted his head. Her eyes were so wide he almost laughed. She looked comical—hopping up and down, clapping her hands, a smile so big it covered her whole face.

“Where did they come from? What are they? That’s not steel—is it? Are they steel? If so, it’s not like any steel I’ve ever seen before. Where did you get them? I love the way they sparkle. I want some, Munenori. Do I get some, too? How do I make my hands glow?”

“Ha! You
are
a Dragon, Naga. I knew it.” His boisterous laugh echoed through the valley. “Show you something shiny, and your eyes glaze over with wonder and want. You lose control and turn into a giddy little girl.”

Adalin growled and snorted, offended to be described thusly.

Munenori wasn’t going to pass up this rare opportunity to provoke his angelic little sister further.

“Where’s the motherly protector who broke my arm upon our meeting? Hmm? Where’s the warrior who threatened my life while she whispered her sweet breath upon my neck? Where’s the fierce woman who stood in my face, swearing she hated me, while her magical eyes sparkled and danced? Where’s that ferociously dangerous creature now?”

Adalin chuckled inside Jenevier’s head.
I am impressed, little Naga. The Angel had it hard with you upon your journey. Did he not?

I don’t believe I was as bad as all that. He whines like a child
, Jenevier responded in her thoughts.

Her answer caused Adalin to burst out laughing, Dragon style. Jenevier joined her, laughing in secret, silent hysteria at Munenori’s expense.

Their loud exchange, and his shiny ethereal blades, had drawn the attention of many of the nearby scaled giants.

“What’s wrong, little girl? The cat got your tongue?” he taunted.

“Oh, do you prefer
her
? The woman I showed you when first we met? I didn’t think she was your type, Munenori.” She spoke seductively but laced her words with sarcasm. “I took you to be one of those men who favor the timid, scared, mousy little women who can easily be controlled.” She sauntered toward the now cautious Angel. “I can be the same as when first we met… if that is your preference, Angel.”

She ran one finger lightly up his sculpted chest and over his well-defined shoulder as she stepped behind him. Munenori sucked in a quick breath. Jenevier traced the tip of her warm nose across his back. Goosebumps ran the length of his arms. He shuddered. She had to quickly stifle her laughter. Placing her fingertips lightly across his throat, she gripped his sharp hipbone, pulling him hard against her. He went rigid. She could feel his racing heart through his back, vibrating at the very spot now pressed against her breasts. She tiptoed to get her mouth as close to his ear as she could… but there was no need for such effort, he instinctively leaned his head back until her nose brushed the side of his face. His eyes were closed, anticipation quivering throughout his body.

“Tell me about your blades… or die.” She quickly touched the tip of her tongue to his ear before he tore free from her wickedly tormenting grasp, spinning around to face her.

The muffled chuckles and growls were gone. Adalin had burst into full-blown Dragon laughter.

She is perfect, Munenori! We will love her always. She shall be our greatest treasure.

He snorted. “Of course you love her. She is your Guardian… and the absolute embodiment of you.” His words carried a breathy snarl. He tilted his head from side to side, popping the tense bones in his neck.

This was turning out to be way too much fun for her, and Adalin only coaxed her all the more.

“Well, get on with it.” Jenevier stamped her foot, placing her fists on her hips. “Tell me of your magical steel, Angel.”

Munenori rolled his eyes and sheathed his weapons. “I knew you’d be a pain in the ass. But the longer you stand there, the more you act like
them
.” He jerked his head toward the growing crowd of shimmering scales. “Perhaps I’m being punished,” he grumbled.

“Perhaps you are. Men should not go about acting so full of themselves, even if they are
Angels
.”

Adalin’s laughter rang through her head.

Munenori turned toward the pink she-Dragon. “You’re not helping. Don’t encourage her. We have much to do. You can play with me all you like, but on a different day.”

“Do not scold her, Angel,” Jenevier said. “I’ll behave.” She clasped her hands in front of her and shrugged her shoulders innocently. “Yet, I can read it plainly upon your heart. You like me better when I
mis
behave.”

She winked at the she-Dragon and their combined laughter caused Munenori to roll his eyes again.

He sighed and shook his head. “Very well. I assumed it would be thus with you, Naga. Yet, I had hoped against it.”

Jenevier tried to stifle her laughter, but a tiny giggle slipped out. He rolled his eyes and looked up to the heavens, exasperated.

“You know something, Munenori? I’ve never liked when people did thus—roll their eyes at me.” She drew near to him, holding his ethereal glare. “Arm me, Brother, and I promise to break you from that nasty little habit.”

Her threat brought a wry smile to his face. “As you wish, Naga. I shall enjoy it too much.
I
promise.” He removed one of his swords, holding the blade out for her to see. “These blades are all given names. Each one is special—uniquely made to be wielded only by the Angel it was crafted for. It’s made from Prisalyn, the same substance which the holy temple sits upon in Vanahirdem. It is neither a stone nor is it a metal. It cannot be crafted by anyone, save Father. It is not of this world or any world you have seen. I know not what
your
weapons will be, Naga. We will discover the truth of that, together.” He took her hands, kissed each one, and turned them palm up. “When you are ready, ask from your heart. What you’ll receive will be perfect for only you.”

Munenori stepped back and all the Dragons gathered around as close as they dared. She closed her eyes. Her mind was running wild with thoughts of the coming war, her recent guardianship, her beloved sons—and the soul-jarring revelation that one was
not
. She took a deep breath, pushing it all away.

I don’t know exactly what it is You wish of me, but I am ready. Use me as You will. Make me what You wish me to be. I will no longer fight against my fate. I wish now only to embrace it. I’m ready to dance with my destiny.

She felt that same invoking, loving warmth she had experienced before. First, on the day of her Pyrolysis, again on the day her epiphany came whilst in exile on layer eight… and then the time she was remade, during her epic visit to hell.

Jenevier slowly opened her eyes and beheld her glowing palms. When the light exploded, it was the same as the moment she had said aloud those healing words to her loving brother Vanir, Vittorio. Time and the world around her stood still.

Well done, little one, little Kagi Naga. Know this. You must accept the Blessing I have already bestowed upon you, tiniest of Angels. And now, accept what you are… what you have always been. Thrice I have named you, cherished among My daughters. Go in peace. You are now whole.

When the millions of fireflies fluttered away, she was left holding two completely different blades, confidence she had never believed possible, and an all-encompassing feeling of
just knowing
.

Munenori gasped. “Ahh, Naga. You… are… glorious.”

“As are you, Brother.”

“Gratitude, Sister.” He inclined his head toward her. “You have been blessed with weapons as rare as you are. When will you cease to amaze us?”

“It is not I, Brother. I am but a vessel.”

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