Chapter 49 Azahara
Azahara
“Can you believe it has been a month since the Battle of Sunfall?” The tavern was filled with patrons of Luath, from humans to Ossos, Elves, and even Fae. It was a sight to see.
“It feels like it was yesterday.” They spoke of it as if it weren’t a battle, but a festival. One that would go down in history, never to be forgotten, and celebrated every year.
“To those that fell. Here! Here!” They raised their mugs and cheered. At least a dozen, if not more, were engaged in the conversation.
“In truth, I wonder how it really ended,” someone said after they tossed back a giant gulp of ale.
“Ahh—brother, same. The king, and even the Fae Elder, are keeping it all under very hush lips.”
“I have a friend who was there.” Several gasps and many more leaned in toward the male elf who had spoken.
“He said that one moment, the Fae came swooping in and helped fight the monsters at Sunfall. Then all of a sudden, bam, darkness.” Expressions of disbelief caused him to continue.
“Everyone began running, and as the darkness slowly began to creep toward them, they immediately turned to ash.”
“Ridiculous,” someone said.
“Seriously! He said that more would have perished if it hadn’t been for the Fae!”
“You are crubbish, Toka,” the bartender, who had stopped serving to listen to his tale, said. “That sounds like—”
“A god’s power. Something from the ancient texts we have not seen in centuries.” He sounded grateful for it. “They finally came to help after all our prayers.”
“They killed thousands of soldiers and civilians on both sides,” a human male cut in, anger lacing his tone. “Whoever it was, mortal or god, needs to be brought to justice.”
“They won the war for us.”
“But at what cost?”
“War costs, sonny,” an elderly gentleman cut in. “Whatever did that stopped the war.”
“No, if it weren’t for the Fae, whatever that power was would have wiped us all out.” He was adamant, but patted the nearest Fae’s shoulder in a hurray. “We should be thanking the now Elder Fae for us being able to drink.”
Some cheered, others just rolled their eyes.
“If it hadn’t been for his heroism, protecting the people of this kingdom and stopping whatever that was and Thall’s forces, we would all be goners. Here, here!”
“Here, here!” they cheered.
“May Anthurium rest in the Mother’s arms, and his son, Jaakobai, have the strength to lead this kingdom into a new Era!”
They cheered again.
Azahara had heard enough of listening to the rambling.
Slamming her mug on the table, she stood and left some gold for the drinks.
Should be free for the bullshit I had to listen to.
She thought, stumbling from the seat, catching her hand at the back of a filled chair.
A hiccup bellowed from her, and she groaned.
Only a few spared a glance as she stumbled away from the bar, the cloak draped over her head, concealing her drunken state.
Along her path, she crossed a shattered mirror, fragments scattered across the floor.
In that fleeting moment, she caught a glimpse of her reflection, and the image that stared back at her was almost unrecognizable.
Her once captivating blue eyes were now mismatched; the left consumed by a fiery red, with traces of blue barely visible.
It was a twisted reminder of Thall, a haunting testament to what happened.
The cool air greeted her as she exited the tavern. The heavy rain that had passed overnight coated the ground, leaving it muddied. The salt in the air was a painful reminder as to why she was where she was then.
“Miss.” A voice called to her. “You forgot your change!”
Without turning back to them, she kept moving forward. “Keep it.” She knew that the person calling her had not come to return her change.
Her ears caught him making a mistake that would cost him far more than the coin that was left. With a tumultuous sigh, she quickly sidestepped the sword swinging downward, albeit a bit awkwardly, thanks to the ale. It slapped into the ground, splashing mud up onto her bare legs.
“Why.” It hadn’t really been a question. She hiccupped again. Damn it, I drank too much. “You sentence yourself to death.”
As her eyes locked with his, he visibly stiffened and quivered under the intensity of her unwavering gaze. She couldn’t really make out his features and didn’t care to assess him more than being an average-sized human or Elf.
“The king... he has summoned you.” She did not recognize this boy. He wasn’t any of the others who had attempted to bring her in.
A half-ass laugh escaped her. “So you swing a sword at me.” The anger lacing her throat caused her words to spit like fire. “You have been hunting me for weeks. I know exactly what you want. How many of you do I need to kill for you to realize I will not be meeting with your king?”
“He is your king, too!” He gritted his teeth and stood holding his sword.
“Admirable.” She looked over his shoulder, seeing the patrons in the tavern staring out the window and peaking outside the door. “But stupid. Do you want a public execution, or should I privately end your life?” Her gaze returned to him, her expression deadpan.
Again, he trembled, and she knew what he was thinking. He was going through his life, seeing it as a last-minute retelling. Thinking that he was making the right decision for his king. A king who sat in his castle while his men and women died.
She did not care.
Turning from him, she walked away, and he did not pursue her. It had not surprised her; the piss-stained front of his pants was evidence that he wasn’t ready to fight her.
Inhaling deeply, the alcohol swirling in her head, she couldn’t help but ponder the apparent shame within the king’s armies.
They had failed to report back to the king with accurate information about her, for if they had, they would have discovered that she hadn’t laid a hand on any of his spies or soldiers or whatever they happened to be.
“As much as I would have loved to…” she murmured.
Tuning into the winnox, she immediately felt a tingle at the back of her neck.
“Azahara, for the Mother’s sake, I’ve been trying to get in touch with you. Where the hell have you been?” It was Illyan, she hadn’t spoken with them since… “Please, come home. I don’t understand how this has happened, but we can work it out together. Zhal is here, and she wants to talk with you.”
Illyan, what is there to work out? As she spoke with them, she walked down a worn trail lined by trees with fallen leaves. You saw for yourself what happened.
“Please… don’t leave us. Not now. Now that you…”
Say it. She looked up at the clouds, the memories of her life floating in them.
“Now that you remember everything.”
Eleven days ago, she had gone to sleep anticipating forgetting the year prior. Illyan and Zhal had prepared for the morning to assist in getting her quickly caught up to speed on the most recent events and then prepare for the next couple of months of reading her journals.
Except, when she woke up the following morning, not only had she not forgotten, but all five hundred years of her immortality had begun to flood in. Everything, from the first time she died to the death of Kaed, was all there, front and center.
She had immediately left then, only to explain what had happened through the winnox days later. The fear of all the memories rushing back to her made her run. The ‘what-if’ of destroying not only her home, but her family tore at her reality.
What about it? Coming back to reality, she addressed Illyan, her voice cold.
“Why are you doing this—”
Illyan, I killed thousands of people in a matter of seconds. I may have done more if it hadn’t been for you. I am a danger to myself and to you and Zhal, and… Her heart skipped a beat. Is there any change?
“No, I’m sorry, but Ladybug, please—”
My decision has been made, Illyan. I love you and Zhal. I need to figure out what this is, and I will not drag you both along to possibly die by my hands. The realms would not survive that fate.
“You don’t need to protect us.”
Don’t I? I am a monster. I am protecting you from myself!
Her stone expression faltered, and she frowned.
While everyone paints the hero to be the Elder Fae, it was you and Zhal that pulled me from the depths of destroying the battlefield and the realm.
I am the villain, regardless of whatever picture you see of me.
I have been the cause of not only direct, but also indirect deaths that extend beyond the battlefield.
I nearly got Zhal killed. I DID get Kaed killed.
My life has been far from kind, and I am responsible for its creation.
“Don’t do this.”
Did you know that Broan was on the battlefield, Illyan? Tears welled up in her eyes, and she didn’t hold them back; they fell freely. Silence from the winnox. I killed him for Kaed, who is now gone, suspended by Magic because I have begged you to do me this kindness.
“Azah—”
Chills ran down her as she cut them off. I cannot bring myself to release his soul to Death. I fear what will happen once it is separated from this realm. Please… give me time, Illyan.
Once again, silence.
Coming into view, a large ship out at sea. A small rowboat pushed into the sandy beach. I’m going to close out the winnox completely.
Illyan was crying then. She didn’t need them to whimper through her window for her to know it. “Zhal says she will wait for you, but I cannot live without you. Please. Don’t leave me. My grandfather is gone, and they have banished me for good. You are my only family. Don’t do this.”
For once, allow me to make a choice for myself and not for the better of others.
A silent plea before they spoke for the last time. “We will watch after Kaed until your return. I love you, Ladybug.”
Without responding, she closed the winnox and placed a mental block around her window. Nothing would enter her mind unless she allowed it. She would check on them in time, but until then, she would seek her answers. Would it take another year? Or five hundred? She wasn’t sure.
As she settled into the rowboat, she retrieved two items from her pocket before grasping the oars: one full of color and life, the other a memory holding both pain and happiness.
The patch that Illyan had made for them was bloodied but intact.
Then, the photo of her at the Idle Fox, with Broan, cut nearly in two.
She didn’t know what the future held for her, but for once, she didn’t care. All she knew was that time was finally on her side, and she would use it as it had once used her.