11. The Morning Sun #2
It is hard when one is with family who knew us before we took our thrones, the voice murmured. The old patterns remain. They still see us as the children we were rather than the adults we are now.
You have a throne? Declan pushed even as he rather agreed with the voice’s assessment of Aquilan’s position with Vesslan.
The Sun King had explained it himself. There was a lot of stuff under the bridge between the two brothers and Aquilan wanted to somehow get past that and move forward.
But what he didn’t know was where this voice’s experience came from. Were they royalty?
The voice continued on, And Ailduin has always been easy-going. Never one to push his higher position upon another. His presence normally is enough to remind those that they are standing with true royalty.
Aquilan, remember?
Hmmmmm. Oh, yes, yes, Aquilan. In any event, it is not only family members who see us and act as we once were, sometimes we do the same. We fall into those old patterns, the voice mused. It is when we break out of them that things become… messy and dangerous.
Declan’s mouth tightened. I will keep Aquilan safe if that happens.
Already you are his fierce defender! Many would say you hardly know him, the voice countered.
I know him, Declan insisted, surprised at the certainty there.
He felt the Sun King’s presence at his shoulder.
He felt the warmth of him. Both his body and soul.
It was almost as if they had always been walking together towards a common goal.
But he knew they had not. It only felt like they should have been. I know all I need to know about him.
Yes, I felt that same way. It is our nature, I suppose, to form permanent bonds in a moment.
Felt that same way? With Aquilan? Or with… Ailduin? Declan asked.
Did this voice know the ancient Sun King? What they had said earlier about his palace had been correct. But if that was true… who was he talking to? Who could this be?
Oh, Vesslan truly has recreated Efenalune here! But he has plastered the walls with scenes of… oh, my… the Leviathan invading Earth, the voice remarked with a tsk at the end. You shouldn’t look at them. Oh… too late…
Declan froze as he entered the rectangular throne room.
The throne itself was on the far wall up several steps.
It was so far away that it was hard to see other than it was cream and gold and ostentatious.
The ceiling was several stories above their heads.
There were windows on one side, but as the voice had noted, on the other, there were paintings.
The paintings were huge, spanning over ten feet long and just as tall.
The colors used reminded him of the Renaissance masters as there was an almost internal luminescence to them.
Declan’s hand went numb around the glass he was holding.
Every single one of those paintings contained Leviathan. They were surrounded by Leviathan…
“Each of these scenes is from a significant battle in our war to reclaim Earth from the Leviathan!” Vesslan outstretched his arms, his face glowing with satisfaction.
His mouth pinched slightly as he pointed to one painting that had caused Declan to stop dead in his tracks.
“Ah, you should recognize this moment, Declan. This is you and the other two survivors when Aquilan appeared in Tyrael.”
The three of them were just black, faceless figures in the foreground staring at the magnificence that was the Sun King.
Aquilan was seated upon his white horse in his gold and white armor with the brilliant crimson silk cape flowing out behind him.
The horse was rearing up and Aquilan had one hand holding on the reins while the other held aloft his sword.
Golden light was both pouring down upon Aquilan, but also streaming out from him.
Wherever it touched, the darkness was blasted away.
The Leviathan’s coils and wings were shown as blowing apart as the light touched them.
The ruins of the city, too, were being cleansed of shadows as the light spread out from Aquilan.
The shadow that Declan cast–he recognized himself as the standing figure between the two huddled forms of Finley and Gemma–was longer and darker than the rest. It ran to the very edge of the canvas.
For a moment, Declan was back there. He could smell the blood and ozone, the sweat and the fear. He could taste ashes in his mouth. His eyes ached from the light. His skin burned with it, but he could not look away from Aquilan. He felt the handle of the kitchen knife against his palm.
Gemma was weeping steadily. Finley was curled over her, trying to tell her it would be all right, but his voice was hoarse and he hardly sounded like he believed it.
Every muscle in Declan’s body ached. He’d been fighting all night.
All night… forever… The death never stopped.
The Leviathan kept coming. The screams of the humans had been silenced hours ago.
They had been the only ones left and then…
Mother? Father? Where are you?
Images of his blood-soaked kitchen flashed behind his eyes. The smashed in front door where his father had been dragged away followed after. His mother’s blood-slicked hand on his.
“They’re here for you , Declan. They’re here for you ,” the rasp of his mother’s voice in his ears.
Watching the light leave her eyes.
Hearing the dry laughter of the Leviathan.
Ending that creature and then realizing that Finley was in danger. His best friend. The only person left of his found family. He had to get to Finley. The Leviathan were coming… they were coming!
Aquilan was suddenly standing between Declan and the painting. His face was wrenched between anger and anguish. For a moment, Declan had no idea where he was. Time skipped and jumped and then… settled.
“Vesslan, how could you do this?!” Aquilan demanded, his voice taut with emotion.
Vesslan blinked. His arms slowly lowered. “Do–what? What have I done?”
“Declan! I’m so sorry!” Aquilan’s hands were both on Declan’s shoulders.
He could feel the coolness of the one that had held the drink and the warmth of the one that had not.
The servant had taken the drink from the Sun King.
His own… Declan felt something cold against his leg.
He’d dropped his drink. The glass had shattered and the liquid had splashed against his jeans.
When had that happened? “Are you all right? Of course, you’re not. We’ll get out of here. Come. Come.”
Declan wanted to say that he was fine. That there was no problem here.
The painting did capture that moment almost perfectly except for the Sun King’s beauty.
Aquilan was far more beautiful than in the painting.
But his mouth did not work. He was almost grateful for that.
He shouldn’t rave about Aquilan’s beauty.
“It’s all right, Declan. I am so very sorry. Elen, could you please take us to my rooms?” Aquilan asked the servant carrying the pitcher. Of course, Aquilan had also gotten the names of the servants helping them with drinks, too. Of course, he had.
“Yes, my king!” Elen hurried ahead while they followed after, leaving Vesslan standing behind them in the throne room, bewildered.
Aquilan’s arm was around his shoulders. He held Declan’s hands with the other, practically cradling Declan against him as they walked.
Declan barely saw anything. He was having the hardest time trying to focus.
Things just kept slipping past him. Staircases and hallways and Aquilan murmuring gentle words in his ear.
The one thing he did take in was the scent of the Sun King.
Sun kissed flowers and sandalwood. It was an evocative, sensual scent that wrapped around Declan like a caress. He wished he could enjoy it.
He wanted to enjoy it.
“That was unconscionable of Vesslan! Why didn't he warn us… oh, Declan, I know you’ve had a shock! Seeing that… but it’s over. The war is over . You are safe,” Aquilan insisted. “I see you have your knife. But you don’t need it. Do you keep it up your sleeve?”
Declan blinked rapidly and looked down. The damned kitchen knife had appeared in his hand.
Of course, it had. They’d just reached the top of a sweeping set of stairs.
He had no idea what floor they were on. The top one?
Most likely. Elen was heading down the hallway to the left, but Declan resisted following after him at first. He looked right instead.
At the end of the hallway, he could see some unfinished rooms.
“Of course, he put your rooms on the west side of the palace,” Declan found himself saying. “Where daylight bows to darkness.”
Those blue eyes widened in confusion. “What? I–”
Declan turned fully to face the Sun King.
Aquilan was right there. “You should be in the east. The morning sun. Where darkness is vanquished by the Sun. Just like you…” Declan reached up and drew his fingers down Aquilan’s cheek.
So soft. This was madness. What was he doing?
What was he saying? “Like when you saved us.”
“But was I in time, Shadow? I do not think so,” Aquilan whispered as one arm curled protectively around Declan.
“Shadow?”
Aquilan blinked and then… blushed. “Oh, it is just a nickname that I… it is nothing. Forgive me. Let us get you lying down. You’re still–”
“Am I the Shadow? I suppose that fits,” Declan murmured. “I live in darkness. I can’t abide the light. Though shadows only exist because of the light. Your light.”
Aquilan’s eyes were looking into his. He felt utterly seen and it was… terrifying yet Aquilan did not look away. He moved closer. He was so close. So very…
“My king?” Elen suddenly queried. “Do you need assistance? I have the bedclothes pulled down so that he can rest.”
“Thank you, Elen,” Aquilan said, turning away, breaking this strange moment. “I have him. We’ll be right there.”
“I’m fine.” Declan backed away, breaking the hold Aquilan had on him. “I don’t need to rest. I should… go.”
“Declan–”
“I don’t… I’m sorry,” Declan got out. “This should have been a happy day for you. I didn’t mean to ruin it.”
“You didn’t!” Aquilan stepped towards him.
Declan stepped back. “You should… should move your rooms to the east, Aquilan. The morning light. I… I need to go.”
Declan spun on his heels and ran. He expected the voice to laugh or make some comment about leaving what was his. But it was silent. Instead, Declan asked them a question, Who am I?
But the voice did not answer.