CHAPTER II: THE GLEAMING SIEGE (6)
The prince of the south began to remember what his memory had lost, but not forgotten. That which weighed on his conscience, but which tied the foundations of his forewarned wealth. The greeting of a fervent friend, who had promised never to remember again. And although his reason screamed at him to eradicate what he was about to do, the conjugations of his tenuous and excessive words ran as fast as they could, because, although his senses could not believe it, Pasithea would become the first person to ask. with the sincerity of her heart, the depth of her sadness, that she was born the day she lost her mother. And so he sat down, amid these currents of helplessness and shame, to tell his long-discarded story.
The weather was dark and bleak. The currents of the floating smoke knew only war of helplessness. The War of the Realms was in full swing; the castle of Adnia served as the center of the battle. The corridors of an empire were turned into the arsenals of war and affliction. The permanence ran uncertain, because, although the battle was even, the meadows knew of the dominance of the north. I was just a kid. A child who passed powerless to my mother to be in the great battle.
My father led with the strengths, because as you already know, the conquest and expulsion of the kings was always a strategy to turn the Castle of the Center into a set of gunsmiths of inconceivable brotherhood of traitors and repudiation. It was a trap, or so my father considered it. The Plasma God knew the kings would return, so he dedicated himself during his days to turning the castle into an ambush, but with Elgoneth's integration, his plan was weakened. His strengths were weaker than he had anticipated, but even so, my father toasted five long batches, an exponential battle.
However, in these times the king of the south runs out of resistance energies. He knew it, he felt it perfectly; he predicted it with notoriety, for he saw his people fall like feathers in the wide sea. He saw the enemy glow, and he saw his frail body wear out after cycles and cycles of staying in the meadows and blooming them. He was forced to generate a temporary exchange in his leadership; secretly to the kings of the north and to war, with Ramen the Great, one of the Army General's best soldiers. He needed to recharge, his way home was long, but his goal was clear. It arrived quickly, in just fifteen days at the Palace of Aravir. Where all he did was hug his queen, hoard his little son, and take hundreds of turns of despair and anxiety over his plan, only to grab his horse again, and head back to the war zone, along with a new one. litter of warriors; the youngest of the empire, those who had been their time to be chosen by the man of the south. And so, on this very night, amid shouts and reproaches, he returned to battle. With less hope of winning, but with more desire to fight.
"Let me go with you!" exclaimed the Queen of Aravir.
"I already told you no, woman!" responds the God of Plasma.
"I have waited five years for this Arac moment!" exclaims the Queen, through tears. “I have trained like any of your soldiers! I have grown like anyone in your kingdom! I have upheld your honor and your name more than anyone! I can make this decision! "
"Our son needs his mother," exclaims Arac. "You are not going to that battle, because I am not going to allow you to fall into your own arrogance."
"Why does this king always assume that ?!"
"Because you are a mortal Emeritus!" answers the king. "You do not understand? Your courage and your feeble knowledge of the light will not save you in those meadows. Surrendering to them will mean death for you. "
"Then let me die by your side," exclaims the queen. “You can't do this to me. Please Arach. We cannot continue like this. I can not continue like this."
The king turned apathetic; exclaimed a loud voice of command, and he departed amidst the function of a fantastic and divine bridge of light, shining with the beauty of a new kingdom, and leading the warriors from the palace to the small high mountains of the south. Suspended between the skies.
This is the exact moment where the Queen Emerita, considered that her will was irreparable, and her heart was large enough, to leave it in the hands of uncertain and disturbing fate. She grabbed her horse faster. She dressed from head to toe, in the armor of the army. And with a kiss on her son's forehead, and a vision of victory, she decided to sneak out of the kingdom, and follow the litter in secret, that very night.
"I'll be back my son," exclaims Emerita. "We'll be back. I promise."
The woman left without the wind noticing. The brilliance of the divine bridge was treasured before the gaze of the uncertain, as it was activated again. While the effulgence of the queen from the south it was driven to battle. While might lay uncertain among the currents of destiny. While the prince saw his mother in the distance, seeing her go against his wills.
Ten days they traveled between the groves and the meadows, until they reached the vicinity of the center. Ten days, lost in the hunger for defense. The God of Plasma was ready, because in the distance he saw how his army was trying to maintain strength without its leader. The General of Aravir Solari, descended in the decline of the hill; at full speed, then, although the northern kingdom dominated between the fallen columns of empire, not even the god of creation predicted the energy with which the young and renewed fortress brought from the palace of crystals came; the war was increasing in intensity. And behind the gloomy litter of the heavenly meadows, in the vicinity of a cold and harsh morning, stood the Queen of Aravir; He had followed the trail, as Emerita did not desert from the directions of her king. On the contrary, she was convinced that with her arrival the kingdom would resist, and would offer triumph. It crowded in secretly in the singular attack of the litter of at least fifty horsemen, as the wave swept across the battlefield toppling the Guardians of the North; while the queen attacked many of them, while her vision and her power took refuge in a single objective, a single vision, a single fall, which would guarantee the triumph of the kingdom: Marlina.
Emerita believed that the weakness of the northern kingdom lay in its queen. She knew that Arac was incapable of annihilating the queen of the north, but if there was a being that could have the will to train to extinguish the Goddess of Light, that was the Queen of the South. Well, as sisters, Emerita herself had extracted the weakest points of the power of the goddess. He knew her like none other. He would be able to catch her like no one else, and that was his intervention, because from one moment to another, cadi instantly, he was able to locate the goddess of light, emanating dozens of fleeting rays from those new horsemen, who fell like lead soldiers before his might .
Emeritus held a large elongated spear; he crossed a path between the incessant blood and the fighting men and his horse sped up its incessant gallop into the depths of the road. The goddess of light perceived danger outlining, turned her gaze to the left, raised her hand, and with a cold and focused voice exclaimed:
ITHILIEM ARASA
A whirlwind of fire allied spiraling from the hand of the queen of the north, attacking the queen of the south; the sulphurous horse fell surrendered to the ardor that arose from the feet of the beast, stumbling and throwing the queen of the south towards the vicinity of the Goddess of light. The spell rioted the area, a set of fallen columns, and trapped the queens in a circle of fire, as the heat boiled the nearby warriors who were in the vicinity.
The Queen of Aravir rose quickly, and without thinking, she drew her elongated sword and began to generate rapid attacks towards Marlina. The latter held a fallen sword, and with her divine illumination began to defend herself from nearby attacks. The Goddess of Light strangely, felt an exacerbated passion towards her annihilation. She felt his hatred, his death, his revenge, his helplessness spilled from the mysterious soldier onto her. For that soldier did not stop attacking, and although the Goddess did not distinguish who she was, her energy seemed very similar.
A rumbling punch strikes simultaneously from two timed attacks. The queen of the south felt the blow, as both swords collided, and the women flew off. Her helmet falls apart towards the adventures of the place, and when she gets up, a strong blood gushed from her right eye; so he forced her to take off her entire helmet, while her brown hair fell off in the air of the place, revealing her identity.
"Emerita?" Marlina exclaims.
The Queen of Aravir throws the sharp blade of a detached sword, at full speed in the vicinity of the Goddess of Light, this pushes the air towards her right hand, throwing the blade into a mound of fallen men, but the inertia of the The force is so great that when the blade hits one of the gleaming hooves, it bounces off its direction, and as if planned by the Goddess, it returns to the chest of the queen of the south; penetrating its edge, into the cavities of its main artery.
The queen of the south falls to her knees, looks around, and contemplates the singularity of a defeat. Look at her hands, full of fresh and renewed blood; her right eye was harassed, and her left eye heralded the imminent fall. Marlina runs towards her, and holds her when she is falling on the cold and arid ground. He looks into her eyes, and when she was about to remove the entire sheet, Emerita stops her.
"Don't take it out," exclaims Emerita. "We must not spurt more blood."
"Emerita what the hell you are doing in here?!" Marlina exclaims. "It is not - it was not my intention, please hold on!"
“It's all Marlina,” exclaims Emerita. "I thought I was looking for your death, but really all these years, I've been looking for mine."
"Do not say that!" Marlina exclaims. "Don't say that please!"
Marlina tried to use her light to rekindle the mortal's heart; but her body did not cooperate, her soul gave up slowly, and her will fell before the surrender of the inexorable.
"Emerita, you are not going to do this to me!" Marlina exclaims, a tear gushing out. "What the hell did you come for ?!"
"I came to find my farewell," exclaims Emerita. “Take care of them, take care of my king. I know you were always the best for him. Finish this Marlina; Well, if you're going to break her heart, you'd better end her anyway. "
The woman ripped a piece of Marlina's dress from the pressure of her arm. Fear consumed her will. The might had faded, and the realm of demise carried off the queen of the south, just as quickly as she came looking for it. Found her death, the Goddess of Light rose trembling; something snapped in her mind. Her heart seemed to stop beating, she looked down at her hands, trembling with tension and guilt. Her face was pale as snow and her eyes were filled with a pale sea. Her vision was blurred and her instinct led her to flee the scene, and lose herself in the corners of the war.
Soon after, the Plasma God found his wife's body. And the unknown rage in her heart made its way firmly through the currents of momentary dismissal; the nullification of consciousness. The clouds turned gray, and he screamed and the man's blows emerged from the echoes of the mountain. It was really the day, where Arac lost all hope, and it was never the same; for when he saw in his hand of his queen the piece of Marlina's dress, he promised death to the queen, and to the northern kingdom. She promised to win the war, promised to conquer the island, and end the northern legacy, even if it was the last thing he did.