Legends of Kepler: Age of Erin

CHAPTER II: NOSTALGIA FOR THE NIGHT (5)

CHAPTER II: NOSTALGIA FOR THE NIGHT (5)

The young woman turned the book over, and a divine effluence gushed out the pages; the written words released continuous burst of light, in the form of a giant wave, which impacted the Demian’s face, consequently; as it brightens with fires of justice the medium of the flashing place. Trees flee away, and pieces of logs flew into all sides of the sky, as all of these bounced off the boy's magic hood.

The woman was the center of energy. She stopped her eminence, and she lost the trail of consciousness. She vanished from the everywhere. The boy hesitates; started running around, looking for the woman, whispering her name. The dark dragon had disappeared, and for a few moments, the forest cleared again.

The little elf managed to climb out of the darkness of the great grove, ascending between a nearby hill. He tripped over a branch between the outskirts, and fell near the entrance of the kingdom; where the battle was still beheld.

Danilem was looking around the battlefield, as the bodies were flying between the pervasive heights. The resistance would not last too much, but the azure sky announced the arrival of the name of the star. The kid tried hide in the bushes, looking for a way to enter the kingdom without being devoured or captured, since he still did not see Leyra, anywhere. In the agony of the moment, in the pressure running through his small body, in the terror of certain death. Danilem began to scream for the name of her big friend; and whilst doing so, the attention of one profane beast near the place, was directed as a dishonor eerie, towards Danilem. The beast displayed its reddish eyes, as the giant of the devil began to approach at the kid, at full speed.

Exhausted, crying along, and throwing nearby stones at the gigantic shade, the kid protect himself as he could. The creature was knocking the trees where the child was sneaking out. The beast cornered the boy, as it slowly approached to him; opened its giant mouth of darkness and sorrow, and just as the boy was about to be eaten, a blazing fire of green lights struck in the beast's doomed eyes. The light ingrained into its body, as the creature screams in pain; gnashing his teeth, until his body fell abruptly to the ground; then, promptly, the demian disintegrated into smoke screens covered with unpleasant odors. And among the silhouette of the bushes, a figure begins to lighten vehemently, with a posture from the heaven lands.

“I told you that you would be with me,” says the woman, as she hugs the child, “I had to take care of the previous one. Now let's take you to your mother. This battle is not over yet! We must not stop now!"

Leyra and Danilem moved along the parallel slopes of the forest; a way that the elves had taught the woman, so she could enter the kingdom from its lateral forms. They crossed the inner bushes, until they reached one of the furthest, and deepest shelters of the natives. And in the vicinity of this household, was Tilcia. The woman burst into tears, for as soon as she recognized her son, she held him in the fraternal way that a mother gives a son who was too much time away from her arms.

"May the father bless you forever, Miss Leyra," exclaims Tilcia. "Thank you. Thank you for everything! How would I pay you for this?"

“Begin by staying safe in here,” responds Leyra. “The clearing of the heaven is emerging, but we have not won the challenge yet; it is our peak time. Now, where is your sister?"

Margaredt and Gėovan were stationed at the entrance of the fighting realm; next to some wheat mills. The defense seemed to dominate at last, and the spirits diminished in intensity. The guardians stood behind a wooden column; amid dozens of destroyed households. These hid themselves, as they recover time to arrange their main case of arrows; anxiously, distressed.

"Dawn is falling," exclaims Gėovan. "The light would certainly love to win, but this task is still incomplete."

"What does that mean, Clarice?" Margaredt asks.

"It means that life is not being clear with us," exclaims the man. "Nothing is guaranteed, but these creatures will not bear the weight of sunshine."

"Well, that's good news, at last" replies the woman. "Right?”

"I hope so," says Gėovan. "There’s something odd about this. It is not going to end well. Let´s get out!"

The guards left the broken shelter armed and stronger. The firmament was brightening at every moment, and the shadows of the sinister ran out of energy. These were still in battle, rough and stiff. Delusional between the falls, and the great movements of the elves. It seemed that the great southern lings dominated in battle; some already raised their swords in victory. And suddenly, among the crowd, a tremor was inherited; in an instant, a quaint roar from the soul of fervor and grief resounded around all events. Some demians fled instantly, for this was the call of the demon itself. An eerie sound that stunned unwelcomely the warriors' ears; the archers knelt in despair. And between the ascending hills, a distorted shade was drawing near; clumping movements of farewell and betrayal. From the depths of the forest followed the terrible voice, which increased in the elves’ dishelmed memoir.

It was the severe enemy, the warrant of fall, for it was the most vulnerable moment for the resistance. The beast chose the point of overshadow. The sound worsens again, and suddenly, everything stops. Static in battle, as the void ate everything at once. The elves directed their gaze towards the forest; the most robust trees begin to fall violently and unmannered. A strange and giant creature was knocking every living field he came across, and among the grove, a huge and disfigured face of the demonized realms speared out; it spread detrimental wings, and roared a dreaded long black fire, right at the entrance of the broken wall; covering the fields in flames and anguish, under the treacherous skies. Over the bloodshed prairies of the fallen elves of the south.

"It's the Damian!"

The creature was three times the size of the regular demian. It had a long, jagged spine. Its wings were proliferating, and its roar spread dark and infuriating pain, as it moved all around; flying short distances, cornering the households, and eaten everything left behind.  The snow began to fall heavily; it was the cold announcement, from the winter of death.

The elves tried to defend themselves, but they couldn’t. The Baleful Damian passed through the main corridors of the kingdom; sweeping away everything that intervened. Dawn was prosperous, but it seemed that the beast wanted this, as if the only thing concerning its soul was chaos. The destruction of everything, including itself; for before the weakness of the genuflect kingdom, the presence of the mythical creature in their terrains represented only one thing, the end of a legacy.

The creature hoard, was already upfront. It emanated a fleeting steam of blackness that melted the columns, pulverized the roofs; collapsed the wooden walls and iron doors. Edoer's entrances looked like clay, and dust of dead towns, at each beast's steps. With its enormous claws, the enemy disrupted the compositions of the mills; wasting their faithful crops. Margaredt had convinced Gėovan to find Leyra, so they met her on the other side of the kingdom. Upon the last line of shelters.

"Why did you abandon tour positions?" asks Leyra. “I was the one supposed to go to ground zero!”

"There is no ground zero, Leyra," exclaims Margaredt. "The ancient beast has arrived!"

"We need to attack together, at the same time," responds Gėovan. "At my own expense, we will confront the beast."

"Would you like to explain to me, how do you intend to do this?" asks Leyra.

"We will intercept it, and then attack it.”

"But Gėovan, how?" asks Margaredt.

"With our forefront." responds Gėovan. "Let´s go!"

The three guardians began to go in a full-throttle run, headed towards the entrance; as they get closer, they sensed the dragon aggressively moving toward the main corridor of Edoer's huts. The beast was approaching.

"He's targeting the statues!" Gėovan exclaims. "Let's get in there now!"

    The group foresaw the movements, as they ran with some elves towards an area full of silver statues; after the sculptures, there was an above wooden platform, where Gėovan pretended to place to generate the attack of fire and arrows, all at once. A planned, direct and potential ambush, with all the power of the natives together. But Leyra defocused her attention as she ran, as her vision had seen something moving on the ground in front of the dais, below the wooden platform.

"It's a girl!" exclaims Leyra. “I’ll cover her!”

"Leyra wait!"

The young woman instincts increased. Her speed tripled. Her arms and legs compressed as she saw the imminent danger. The girl was defenseless, with a broken knee; prostrated in the midst of clash of forces. Dumped in the mud and gelid land. The Damian was seen ahead; he was turning in the distance, in direction to the group, as its slow run turned gradually into a fast flight. Leyra ran as much as she could, until she reached the wooden stage. She looked at the upcoming beast, opened her right palm, and a bluish power began to emanate from her hand, but the woman foot slipped on the snow of the planks, causing her to stumble between the small stairs of the platform; falling exhausted on the ground, right next to the girl.

"I´m here, okay? I got you.” Says Leyra. "Close your eyes, for I'll close mine too."

The giant Damian was coming full throttle downside the main ground corridor; in front of him, laid a clear path to devour the woman and the girl. The elves were trying to blast arrows at him, but the beast was too big to be harmed with these. Its energy was unstoppable. Its hunger was insatiable. Leyra closed her eyes, and suddenly, she heard the recharged talent. An impetuous power, displaying near her. It was Gėovan; the sorcerer was perched on the wooden platform, above her. His greenish hood to his face, his hand flickering with virtue and skill; expanding out in front of him, and in an instant, the man released the fastest blast of blue fire the woman had seen in all the years of her glory. A swift attack, moving in trails of light, heading towards the evil face of the legendary beast.

The first spell failed its trajectory, hitting one of the creature's wings. The Baleful Damian did not stop, as it approached with anger, hammering everything around.

Gėovan launches his second spell, and the burst hit was critical, hitting the torso of the black dragon spirit, but it kept coming in.

"It's too close!" exclaims Leyra.

Gėovan then, allure his third spell, an azure flame of fire will, which moved in two sharp bluish lines; striking both eyes of the dark animal, lethally. The creature loses its vision, screech in agony, and divert its intended flight, towards the right of the meadow; falling into a thicket further ahead.

"He has done it!" says an elf.

Leyra got up, led the girl towards Margaredt, and went along with the sorcerer to the body of the beast; the first rays of light began to come out, and with these, they disintegrated the body of the creature into steams of forgotten malice. The wind slowly carried the smog away, and as the sunrise became evident, the darkness left like damned currents throughout the forests.

The nearby demians disintegrated as their skins burn with the starlight; others fled into the forest away from the shine. And while much of Edoer’s prairies had been destroyed, for the first time, the realm arouses above the impossible. The Legendary Damian, had been finally destroyed. Releasing the Elves of the South from the terrible attacks, and although this meant the strongest of winters, they survived it, and got across it, together. A miracle displayed. An eager triumph ahead, for the Kingdom of Eleanor and their great elves’ attempt.