Legends of Kepler: Age of Erin

CHAPTER II: NOSTALGIA FOR THE NIGHT (3)

CHAPTER II: NOSTALGIA FOR THE NIGHT (3)

“He’s breathing!” shouts Count Byron.

“What the hell was that?” says Gėovan.

“The calling of the giants,” responds Count Halem. “An invitation, into the nightfall of chaos. We’ve no time, we shall take the earl out of here, and prepare ourselves.”

“We’ve got what remains for the afternoon,” responds Count Veredic. “Sir Gėovan, and Miss Leyra, it’s your time to proof your worth. We shall fight this demons, and we will defend our nation. And if we have to confront and fail, I’ll do so showing face to the enemy. Can I count on you?”

“I accept it,” exclaims Gėovan.

“What about you, miss?”

“I accept it too,” exclaims Leyra, at a distance, “although, we must cluster as many people we possibly can into the few shelters. After that, I’ll go to the Waterfall of Salvo. I’ll catch you later.”

“Is everything okay?” asks Gėovan.

“Yes,” responds Leyra. “I just need some fresh steams. Clear waters,”

"We shall meet you upon the last rays of sunset, around the great wall." exclaims Veredic. “There the army will be gathered, and the order will be reunited! We must act immediately!"

Songs of hopelessness covered the minds of the leaders, but their hearts remained steadfast. And although their chances were null, their spirits had to represent strength and courage, before the great agony upon the eve of a catastrophe arriving. The town needed them.

Two of the royal counts remained on the council, as the senior earl was in exhausted conditions. Thus, Veredic, Byron, Gėovan and Leyra, alarmed the city. Spread the frightful emergency. The evacuations of the main plots began, and the shelters both inside and outside the city open as lasting households. Although, these were limited, and many people crowded inside their uncertain huts. Forced to use their homes as refuge, and warned to stay inside them; for none of the possible reasons, they shall leave until dawn.

Amid the divergence, Gėovan noticed that the seneschal of the ruby fire, had taken a different path; after she gathered a certain number of persons inside the shelters. The refugee’s movement was already controlled and organized. He saw her descending towards the bottom part of a hill near Edoer; the only spring that the trees and hills allowed their cold underwater to stay liquid and calm, in the means of a solid wintertime. Under some mangroves, the woman started to lost herself, and the sorcerer, full of curiosity, decided to secretly follow the woman; he perceived something strange about her, more than usual. From the man's eyes, the woman was hiding something, as she had done from the beginning of her days in the realm. And even though, the magician thought he knew her well for the last years, at the same time, he had no idea who she was. The woman was reserved about her past, dormant about her woven alleged story. And as soon as the man saw her stir the way she did, at the screech of the beast of grieve, he knew something awakened in her mind. He carried it all afternoon. Gnawed at the curiosity that had happened in her friend's soul. And although she was looking for distance, the man was determined to know what the woman would do in her loneliness, because before his eyes, she was covering herself with suffering. And her evasive acts didn't protect her, they cut her off from the rest; they separated her from her healing.

The man then approached the downside bushes, only to see how the woman slowly entered the frozen spring along with all her clothes, and came out again. She was not bathing, and yet she was in and out; as so below and above the cold lagoon, holding her delicate hands over her face, her gleaming hair from autumn coral brilliance; perpetuated amid the outskirts foliage, as they stood long blessed by her presence, but terrified by the permanent evil of dusk and shades arousing in its backbone’s gloom.

"I know you are here, Gėovan," Leyra exclaims from the waters.

“I'm sorry, please don't get me wrong,” the man replies, “I didn't come to disturb you. It’s just–is inevitable for me to feel your pain."

"My pain?" exclaims the woman.

“Those that you hide very well,” the man replies, “pardon me, for telling you this, but you must understand that you are special to me; you can't pretend I won’t worry about you."

"You don't have to apologize, I understand," the woman replies. "But I don't know why you assume I'm suffering."

“You think I didn't saw how you reacted with that devil’s shriek?” the man replies, “it was a distress for everyone, but for you it seemed like you were remembering something. As if you were reliving the tragedy.”

“In part,” responds Leyra, “but I didn't come here to vent my past sorrows, if that's what you were looking for. "

"Why have you come to then? If you can tell." says Gėovan. “You don't want to open up to anyone, and this isolates you, instead of allowing us to help you. Don't you not trust in us?"

"I came here, to reflect, Gėovan," exclaims the woman. “It is the only spring that prevails in this hellish winter. The river is the only thing that calms me down, and allows me to continue with the tribulations of the past. I have learned to live with my mistakes. And I have learned to carry them."

“There are thoughts that are too deep to work outside,” exclaims Leyra. “Of course I trust you, but not to flood you with my burdens. Not to vent you with my faults. Not to punish you with my scarcity. My powers are not the best, Gėovan. They have failed me before. That’s why, I have tried to limit them here, for you don't deserve to be deluge with their chaos. But even though, it seems that the chaos follows me wherever I go. It seems that my father prefers to allow me to see again, my faults, and my weak will."

“A queen must not behold, the scarcity in her.” responds Gėovan. “A queen must no contemplate, the lack in her. A queen must not derive, upon her damage, upon her wounds. A queen must love her scars, for that’s what a queen is made of. That’s where her character is build up; where her strength relies. Where her uniqueness flourish, sprouting with light all those surrounds her. Grief is just a part of our lives, which displays the passage of growth. Ravishing your angelic path, your delightful soul, your mesmerized present. Hence, enhance your scars; elevate from your drowning waters, for that´s exactly what made you beautiful, my young woman.”

The man extended his hand to the woman, who was emerging upon the banks of the spring; with a blushed face, a sweet silent, as the beautiful presence of her honey eyes remained bright like a lost naiad.

“You don’t have to explain what is yours to carry,” continues Gėovan, “all I’m asking, is for you to allow your spirit to be vulnerable once, so that those who love you can help you bear this weight, for that's what friends are for. If you must draw your strength, I'll be there. If you must bring out your insecure powers, I'll be there. This war has fallen to all, and the tragedy is not just for you. We must face this together, and we will overcome it together. No matter what happens tonight. You are not alone."

The last rays of the starlight started to fell upon the fortress. The Caves of Cropto* had been sealed with wile traps, and fire feints; the army was positioned in the frontlines, between the corners of Edoer. Around the wooden homes, and the exposed wheat mills. Some people remained in their huts, for the shelters were packed at their maximum capacity, and their only safeguard was their family; as they believed in the carried clout among the protectors. A cold sunset prevailed, which from one moment to another, passed through the veils of nightfall; silently, fearful. The fields of Edoer were illuminated by both moons, as the Goddess Rea* introduced herself onwards a strange dance with the sun. Covering the color feared by the greatest ancestors, the orange shades, as they began its macabre narrative, in the early stages of a ponderous dusk.

The enemy was lurking impatiently as an ambush. As a trap, on the upper arms of the heavy snow, for in Eldrįner, every winter aged colder. As a growing darkness, as a hopelessness cornering their homes. The blowing of the southerly winds whispered the impending emergence of gloom. Darkness command arise from the depths of the plains. Forest ghosts, turned into dozens of abominable creatures. Thereby, In the fearful blink of an eye, the incessant creaking of shadows was heard, long and wide; the army was positioned along the edges of the great wall, but the specters invaded like fearsome spirits of darkness, from all corners, all around.

They entered merciless, rapidly; with the sound of a flare between the ascending hills, flying at full speed. Their bodies were composed as a black fire; disingenuous, and delusional. Their embouchure was manifested, as the dead reincarnated in life, for not even the kingdom of darkness accepted their cursed suffering. Their roars echoed through all tissues; their entrances followed abrupt and unpredictable. Moving cryptically; devouring everything around their pathways.

Thus, the Dark Demians covered the place, as monsters of the absolute; as skeletons of the sinister.  As a howl of an impending fall. Phantoms whose rough bones were replaced for deadly brambles, while terror ad affliction infested upon the upper meadows of the Eleanor´s realm. The soaring monsters had thorns on their bones, and these were sharp attacking the elves of Eleanor's legion. The children of Edoer were hiding in the corners of their homes, holding on to the arms of their mothers, as their fathers battled in their names. Who knows what lied, and lacked in the hearts of these brave men, for the certainty of defeat, seemed guaranteed.

Although, Leyra and Gėovan had placed nailed scrolls into the wooden doors of the outskirts’ houses. These had writings on Dragomař, which burned the eyes of the dark demians for a while. From the parchment flowed an essence, sometimes purple, sometimes red. And these powers were connected to an invisible field of energy, which tried to protect the most vulnerable houses. And as the demians tried to enter the place, they were burned and pushed away, all from the energy that flowed within. But these were not enough, for some of them attacked and destroyed the doors’ spells, and energy shields; irrupting the peace of the natives, and finishing their paths on this life.

Leyra was with a group of six mothers, all with their children inside a wooden house with two floors. Through one of the gaps form the windows sealed with planks, she could see the movement of the terrible monsters that were obnoxious in the outsides. The Demians were brought down, but likewise, many of them devoured the elves of the army, as their dreaded screams of agony were heard all along the shelter. Leyra looks her people scared, and when she returned her look towards the gap, a giant eye peeks out in the devilish of ways. The seneschal drew back her gaze instantly, felling to the ground, as the massive creature wails a giant sound, and crushed the entrance of the home, throughout the burning spell.

Everyone began to scream, as the roof broke in millions of pieces; the magic shield breaking and sticking to the Demian's body, burning the horrid body of smug and mist. Although, it did not stop the fury of the beast; it continued to attack with black fires, covered in flames. Each scratch he gave knocked down the columns of the unfortunate household, as the refugee’s group from Leyra, were forced to leave amid chaos. Above destruction. They began to run, everywhere near. Leyra then, showed the palm of her right hand towards the leviathan, and she emitted a golden light that illuminated the face of the creature; burning its eyes even more, as it tried to fly from the pain around, and fell abruptly. As it vanished right in front of them. The creature was defeated on the ground, and then its body turned into a dark vapor, which the wind carried away with its gelid and traitorous currents.