Chapter 207: A Love Story That Never Was

Chapter 207: A Love Story That Never Was

Chapter 207

A Love Story That Never Was

It all ended before it even began, Valen noted silently. He stared at the high walls of the capital, and the swarm of men and women guarding it. The battle commenced shortly after, with bolts and arrows flying overhead while zealous souls charged fearlessly toward each other, roaring as to dispel their doubts. The clash was beautiful and yet awful, the sound akin to thunder ripping out, thousands of swords slashing into flesh, causing rivers of blood to spawn and flow.

His heart beat and bled with each swing of the sword, and with each wail of the pained, and with each gasp of the dying. And yet he could do nothing but sit on top of the cliff overlooking the battlefield, inhaling the fumes of death and decay and praying in silence. His fingers curled up against the frame of the wheelchair as tightly as they could, so much so that they nearly bled. He wanted to be down below, with men dying for his cause, charging with them and screaming with them and fighting with them.

His trembling hands suddenly felt clasped in warmth causing him to look to the side where he saw Ryne crouching next to him. She had changed, too. She was taller than when hed first met her, seemed more dignified, noble, and even more beautiful.

Its alright, she spoke, her lips curling up into a pained smile. Its alright.

... is it? he mumbled back.

... it has to be. She said. Though she could not see the horrors, the horrors were not for the eyes alone. Some things, beyond the senses of man, could be felt regardlessand the torrent of death below them was one of them.

And yet, not even a full minute into the chaotic clash, something happenedabove the two armies, a gash ripped out like a wound by a sword. A flash of light hurdled past the reality, illuminating the world so mightily it blinded everyone for a moment. A cry echoed out, deep and melancholic, and then a roar of a beastbut it wasnt horrid or terrifying or soul-rending. It was soothing, in a way. But primal still. So much so, in fact, that all those who heard it felt a chill in their souls, almost akin to the calling of the beyond, that tender thread waiting to be pulled some day in the future.

The rampant energy caused the world to quake and shake, but nobody fell. No trees were uprooted, no rivers distorted, no castles or walls buried. From within the light, everyone felt a surge of something truthful as their wounds began to heal. Eerily, something astounding happenedthe dead began to open their eyes, and the same eyes that were glazed in the abyss of death began to churn with light of life. The sight was ghastly, yet strangely uplifting.

Lightlight burned like holy fire, yet within that light, a gasp of darkness emerged. At first a flicker, it grew and spread and unfurled like wingsand the day soon became night, grisly and enshadowed. There were, however, no kindling stars to illuminate the sky, nor was there a moon to shine down upon the world. But just as the light gave birth to darkness, something surged within the lurid nothing of obsidiana kindle of golden fire.

At first a flicker, it grew, bit by bit, and like a hellhound it became all-consuming. Within Valens gaze, the world churned in flamesand his joy quickly disappeared. For within those fires screams began to cry, wails of pain, anguish, and soul-rending despair. Eyes of those hopeful with life ignited with fire, jets of golden beaming from their sockets, burning them away. All looked up to the sky, and tens of thousands of golden jets beamed into the darkness.

The city was inflamed right after, consumed in the howling flames. Everything everything was vanishing, being denied. Tears began to coalesce in Valens eyes, his entire body shakingfor he was not burning. Ryne was not burning. Nothing behind them was burning. Just the city and the battlefieldmen and women who marched with him, men and women who wished to deny him the throne and all the innocents who simply got caught in the crossfire of the civil war they were all burning.

What cast the hurt even more was that the sight was beautiful. It was picturesque, akin to a painting that would be hung above the golden throne. The world before him burned, a painting screaming and howling in world-ending agony, and all he could do was admire it.

Forgive me, then.

... I was blind to his suffering, the child said. You have hid it well.

We never hid anything, the woman spoke, tilting her head slightly as she smiled. Canyons of time cannot masquerade what we do not wish to see.

... indeed, the child said. In some ways, we are all still rooted in who we first were. No matter how much we change, how far we evolve, what dimensions we conquer we all come from the primality of man. Boy, the woman suddenly looked at Valen, causing his heart to freeze. Faith in you carved out countless souls. These two want to shield you from the burden, but I am not them. For the remainder of your days, know that your reign was cast upon the river of torment. That is a burden you must learn to weigh, whatever the means.

... tsk, petty till the end, the woman clicked her tongue and spoke harshly.

Indeed. Cruel and petty. Just how it all began.

... he forgave you. A long time ago.

And yet could never love me.

And yet could never love you.

... until the next holy cause Asha.

Until the next one, Meredith.

The young girl suddenly disappeared and the halted time came undone, beginning to flow once again as per the law of nature. The winds began to howl and blow, carrying the mounds of ashes down below in every which direction. The harrowing sight was too much, causing Valen to pass out. Ryne next to him was weeping silently, on her knees, having recognised the brief crack of the voice of the woman in the sky.

... man. I got so fuckin lost there, Sylas said, glancing at Asha. What was that about?

That? Asha chuckled, looking up toward the appearing sun. Just another love story that never was.