Interlude: The End of the Storm

Interlude: The End of the Storm

Hadda hummed quietly, sitting opposite his companion, who was no longer hidden behind vines. He poured her more of the peach wine from his gourd, and once it trickled empty, he tossed the gourd aside, which was caught by a vine, and pulled away into the earth.

“I didn’t expect my days in the Iyr to be so exciting,” Hadda admitted. “Meeting an Anomaly like him, seeing the birth of such great monsters, and to see old legends from before our time.” The old man cackled with glee. “How chaotic!”

He drank the rest of the wine, placing down his empty cup. It was the most delicious cup of wine he had drunk during his time within the Iyr, and since it was so, he pushed away the cup to the side.

“Everything is so different. I have heard that Aldland had barely changed, but when I trekked through it, it was nothing like I remembered. Even Shama did not recognise Aswadasad, and it did not recognise him.” Hadda looked back to a previous time. It was a simpler time, when he could fight as he pleased.

“The pets of the Gods are all but dead, otherwise I could have had some more fun before I gave up my Spark. I thought about it. Bromogor, was that his name? I hear he was making a mess in the far east. I decided against it, since I missed you too much!” Hadda smirked wide as he always had. “I’m sure there are a few still sleeping, afraid we’d go hunt them again.”

“What a time that was. You, me, Orelius, Kaliyah. What were their names? Burok? Tavna?” Hadda paused as his companion replied. “Right! Barak and Torva. Those kids were fun to travel around with too. I wonder how their descendants are doing? Do you still keep in contact with them?” Hadda slowly bowed his head at her response. “I can understand that.”

“This Great Twilight was boring. There were no Ghost Skulls. No Skyseekers.” He narrowed his eyes. “No Demons. Did the land even change, or did Stokmar keep it at bay? Why did she have to wake up now? She should have just stayed asleep! Why bother coming back into the world at this time?” Hadda grumbled, though he knew why she had awoken at this time. How could she not? What with all the Anomalies seeping into their world, and with two of its greatest protectors dying.

“I heard that they came to bother you once, the Ghost Skulls.” Hadda cackled at the thought of the pair meeting. “If I hadn’t been so busy, I would have come down to have some fun too.”

She smiled.

“We’ve kept the Order for too long,” Hadda admitted, sighing. “We’ve tilted the scale too much, and now it’s all going to come tumbling down. You’re going to have a lot of work to do, and I’m sorry for taking you away from your role to help my boy.”

She tried to reassure him.

“Of course I have to.” Hadda growled, annoyed at what she had telepathically communicated. “When have I not repaid my debts? I, Emperor Hadda, who had conquered the skies! When I requested him for help, Shama wanted one hundred islands, and I gave them away! The Heart of Lorkim and Thunderwyrm’s Lament, I gave them to that little brat because he’s got a lot of work to do too! What about my Spark? Yet, how can you say I shouldn’t repay you of all people?”

She relented, knowing better than to argue against him.

“Goodbye, Soza.”

Even though they had barely met in the last two millennia, Hadda was still the man she remembered. He may have been man had conquered the skies and had claimed the title of Emperor, who had brought ruin to dozens of kingdoms, earned the ire of the Divines, and had countless epithets.

However, he was still the Hadda from back then.

Hadda died with a warm smile on his face.

Rain fell across the Iyr suddenly.

Stokmar became the top of the mountains, looking up towards the sky. She gave the pair the respect they deserved, and closed off her senses to the world. She thought of Hadda, who she had met so long ago. They had fought several times in their youth, and had changed the landscape of various different lands.

As much as Hadda was a troublemaker back then, he had definitely calmed down in his later years. He had caused such little trouble to the Iyr that she first thought he was an imposter, but with how rudely he spoke to her, and how much he threatened her, it was definitely Hadda.

A lone figure sat atop a hill. Though snow had fallen all across the Front Iyr, it did not reach within a mile of the Emperor who sat alone, staring up towards the sky. As the rain fell, it first sizzled, but he allowed it to fall against his face.

Hadda had refused to see him the past few days. Shama knew why, for the man had too much pride to allow his rival to see him in such a state. The last few words they exchanged were exactly as they had expected.

‘So you’ve actually died.’ Even now, Shama did not want to admit it. Hadda and he had fought daily when they had first met, but as the years passed, their fights had spread out further apart, even decades began to pass before they exchanged blows. Yet, there was not a time he couldn’t step out to face Hadda if he wished.

Now that was no more.

Shama allowed the rain to wet his face, for he would not cry that day. He thumbed the ring on his finger, which kept the last cup of wine his friend had poured him. He reached for the gourd at his side, and uncorked it, spilling the wine which had been gifted to the Iyr.

“What need of I to drink any more, when no one is as good as you, you bastard?” Shama asked, understanding the sorrow that was the rain.

It's a terrible day for rain.