Chapter 48 Azahara
Azahara
They were mistaken if they thought Azahara wanted to leave them behind. The last thing she wanted was to be in this alone.
Yet, here I am, alone.
As she jumped through the portal, her body readjusted from the quick jump in space. Her steps faltered, and her legs felt weak at the grim destruction before her. The aftermath of something horrible had befallen the rangers, the furthest from the front line.
Her eyes scanned the area, her heart sinking further as they lay upon the motionless bodies scattered across the blood-soaked ground.
Her legs began to carry her without direction, her eyes falling on each figure she stepped over, their faces bloodied and mangled. None of which had been caused by a sword or weapon. Their stillness was a poignant reminder of the price paid for the war before them.
The air was thick and carried an eerie, heavy silence, only broken by the distant echoes of the battle fading into the abyss.
The sickening feeling in her stomach as she scanned the faces, praying that each of them as she passed was not Kaed. All of their life forces, the light that once was in each of their eyes, extinguished.
Life-threatening pain shot through her chest. Her hand instantly moved to find the weapon; the arrow; the sword; the cause of such pain. Nothing was there, and that sickening feeling dug deeper, threatening to cause her to vomit. It tore at her body and ripped her apart.
She was gone, just as her eyes lay upon the reason for her pain.
The source of her demise.
If she had not witnessed it, there would have been denial. That there was absolutely no way he had been taken from her. They were winning this fight. It would end with them together, intertwined in each other’s arms. It could not end like this.
Not with him lying there, a sword placed through his heart.
Her heart.
She had not noticed her feet carried her across the battlefield, somehow avoiding the riddled bodies of war. The fighting between soldiers and Gorruk echoed in the distance as if the battle had not just ended.
How could they continue to fight? Did they not see that he was down? The fighting needed to cease. Had they not known what was happening? Did they not care? Why is everybody not angry, crying, and throwing down their weapons?
Her world was falling apart. The fragments of reality were cracking and splintering down to the core of the realm. Thall stood over Kaed, his hand on the hilt of the sword straight through her heart.
A life that was good. A life that lived for her. The only life that mattered to her.
Thall ripped the blade from Kaed’s lifeless body as she was mere feet from him now. The evil in his eyes as the blade turned towards her, the crimson blood of her life dripping from its sharp point.
“I hope betraying me was worth it.” Thall was breathless, and as she looked at Kaed, lifeless, the sword in his hand, she knew he had fought.
Why didn’t you run…
I did this to you…
Her head tilted to the side, tears brimming at her eyes.
“Now you die.” He raised the crystal that held Helio’s Magic towards her. “Such a pity—” All she could see was red. “We could have been amazing together.”
She heard a high-pitched ringing in her ear.
The instant their sights locked on each other, fear rippled throughout Thall’s entire being.
I can feel your fear. The tickle at the nape of his neck, the tightening in his sack as he felt death nearing.
He wanted to run, but his ego kept him from stepping away.
The Magic that he thought would protect him, he gripped onto it.
That fear must have made him attack then, thrusting forward the Magic that would have shredded her into a thousand pieces with its might. Winds like the swords of a thousand armies forcing towards her, ready to end her existence and make her disappear.
“You took him from me.” Her voice distorted. “Now, I have nothing.”
The Magic bounced and ricocheted off her, dying as it slammed into the vortex of darkness surrounding them.
“What the—” Of course, you are confused. Around them, a cloud of black smoke began to creep outward slowly, but it blanketed them from the rest of the battle around them. It was just them, and his army would not protect him. The smell of death and decay permeated the space.
Azahara raised her steady hand, pointing directly at him.
“Death.” And as if it were hers to summon, the cloaked form of Death appeared beside her.
“It is customary to take souls after they have departed from their hosts.” Azahara’s voice was not her own, the dead and eerie tone of a creature of another realm.
It echoed and cracked as though her throat was shattered glass.
She looked over at Death, who was smiling at her. “Your bidding, my light.”
“His soul. Leave it for me to destroy.”
Death took a deep breath and removed its eyes from her. “I will collect the others and leave this one for you. Another gift for my everything…” Only a moment’s pause passed. “And the Elf—”
“Is mine!” The darkness that had simply sat around her blazed as Death conceded.
It did not speak further but bowed its head with a smile, leaving her.
“W—” Thall brought forth the Magic again, his fingers gripping the crystal for dear life.
“You are dying right now.” She stepped towards him, and while Thall was a man in terms of age, he coward like a little boy then. “And I will destroy not only this vessel, but its inhabitant.”
Another force of Magic flew from him, and once again, she went unfazed. “What the hell are you?”
“Just—” Her hand reached out towards him. “Azahara.” Instantly, she was standing before him, her finger against his chest.
The event unfolded with such swiftness that only she grasped its true nature.
In a fleeting instant, Thall stood, clutching onto the essence of Fae Magic he had relentlessly pursued.
And then, as if by some cruel trick of fate, he disintegrated into mere ashes carried away by the wind.
The sword he once wielded shattered like fragile glass in his grip, its remnants scattering as grains of ash upon the realm.
Not only had she destroyed his physical being then, but she would soon devour his soul, as she would do to the world around her.
The ash that was once Thall floated through the air, disappearing as if he were nothing.
He is nothing. Helio’s crystal hit the ground with a thud and went ignored as she turned and set her sights on the motionless Kaed.
Her eyes were dry from her unblinking stare.
They’d taken him from her, and they would pay with their lives.
She sank to her knees beside him, cradling his limp form in her lap. His head found solace in her legs as if they were his gentle pillow, and he was merely lost in a serene slumber.
Darkness enveloped her as layers of dust and smoke obscured the once-vivid scene.
Ethereal light rays pierced through the murky atmosphere, casting an otherworldly glow upon the surroundings.
The ground trembled beneath their feet, its tremors echoing the profound silence surrounding them.
Amidst this eerie calm, a piercing scream erupted from her, an outpouring of raw emotion—anger, sadness, and rage.
Her cry reverberated through Parádeisos above, causing the very skies to shudder in response.
“How fucking dare you!” she said, her face now mere inches from his. The tears that drowned from her splatting against his cheeks. “You swore! You swore!” No, no, no, no!
Every fiber of her being ached, and she was powerless to ease the torment. “No!” She embraced the pain, disregarding the fragments of her own self that were crumbling within.
“Come back to me!” Another desperate plea escaped her lips.
Her trembling hands pressed against the exposed wound in his heart, desperately willing to restore him to life.
Yet, despite her fervent efforts, she was utterly helpless.
There was no rhythmic beat within his chest, no breath escaping his lips, and the once palpable connection between them had faded into oblivion.
Azahara whimpered as she pressed her lips against his. They trembled against his still form. Her hands came up to grip his face. “Wake up, damn it! Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me.”
Her wails reverberated like thunder, resonating through the air, while tears poured forth like an unyielding tempest. “I can’t do this without you.
I can’t do this, Kaed. Don’t you fucking dare leave me!
No! No! Take them, take them all, but not you.
NOT YOU! Kill me. KILL ME. I don’t want to come back! ”
“Azahara.” Another voice came from before her, and she tensed.
A languid glance intersected with that of an exquisitely captivating woman, gracefully kneeling before Azahara and Kaed.
Possessing a cascade of golden hair and mesmerizing green eyes, she appeared as an ethereal figure adorned with an almost halo-like crown upon her head, a stark contrast to the surrounding grimness of the world.
“You must stop, or else you will destroy this world,” the woman warned.
Azahara sensed the world crumbling around her as she unleashed darkness upon it. She was acutely aware that beyond the shroud of shadows enveloping them, she was the harbinger of destruction, poised to annihilate the realm, just as she had done to Thall mere moments ago.
“Good.” Her voice permeated with malevolence.
Unwavering, the radiant woman extended her hand before them. “This will start a war with the gods. The mortal realm will not survive.”
All she could do was unleash a haunting laughter, tilting her head slightly as a demonic snarl distorted her face. “Bring him back then,” Azahara said coldly, “goddess.”
The caring facade that the goddess held was beginning to slip. “We cannot interfere with death and mort—”
The area around them shook as she cut her off.
“All you do is take, and watch as your people, who love you, burn and suffer. Do not talk about interfering.” Azahara was not kind, her tone brute and unforgiving.
“You did nothing while one of your gods tormented me for over five hundred years. He brings me back when I die—you can bring someone good back! Bring him back!”
The goddess’s eyes did not change, but her nose twitched, and a peek of a snarl was ready to lace across her lips.
Azahara’s jaw trembled. He was gone. Her eyes closed, and the tears continued their escape.
“Leave us,” she demanded. Feeling a mental pushback from the goddess, she shot her eyes open. “I said leave us!!!”
“I cannot allow you, a mortal blessed with the power of the gods, to destroy using what we have mistakenly given you.” Her shoulders rounded, and she stood. “I do not want to fight you, but I will.”
Azahara, with a cold gaze, did not move. “Then I will, too, destroy you.” With rage, she raised her hand to the goddess, who tensed.
“You can bring him back.” The feeling of hope caused her to stop her advances. “As Goddrick has done for you.”
There was no pause as she had with Zhal. Azahara grabbed one of her blades at her side, slit her hand open, and pressed it against Kaed’s mouth. She’d cut too deep, so much spilled from the wound into his mouth too quickly.
“You will bring upon storm that this world will not survive,” the goddess hissed. “Do not seek to complete the Veritum, or else, Praestes.” It would be the goddess’ last words before vanishing into thin air.
She pulled her hand away, closed his mouth, and lifted his chin. Making sure that the liquid would not slip from his mouth. She brought her arms around his neck and placed her forehead against his.
Nothing changed. His heart did not start beating. It made the outcome feel so much different than Zhal.
Her heart never started beating again. You all will suffer.
Everything hurt, and soon, the tears that were clear as the waters of So’ol turned to inky black, the same as Goddrick’s blood.
She waited while the realms would turn to ash for what they did to him. To her.