Destiny
All things have to start somewhere. There has to be a beginning. However,
if there is a beginning to the Prophecy, only the gods know it, and perhaps the Queen of Secrets, but she isn’t telling.
It often seems that the Queen is a god herself. No one can remember a time
when she wasn't there. Very few know where she came from, or how old she is. I'm pretty darn old myself, and yet the Queen was an ancient tale, even when I was young. It was years before I was even sure that she really existed. She tends never to show her presence.
You don't know you've been manipulated until long after it's done, if ever. I only recently discovered her influence in my life. Is the Queen perhaps Fate in disguise? Is she Luck, or perhaps something strange and frightening even to the gods? Whatever she is, her power is something that all of demonkind hold in awe.
The Prophecy. As long as I can remember, it has ruled my life. My father
was obsessed with it. Understandably so, considering the way things turned out. Even I...but I digress. Among the Outlanders, it has always just been The Prophecy. The humans called it the 'Prophecy of the Nine Rings,' after the warriors who feature in so much of it. Strange really, that a prophecy that affects the demon-world so much should depend on the choices of humans. Still, they seemed to have chosen correctly for hundreds of years, so I shouldn't criticize.
Father was determined that he would be the one to gain the 'Chosen Key' and her powers for his own. He spent thousands of years preparing for her birth, and so, by default, did we. The first time I truly remember hearing the prophecy is when I was nothing but a child. My twin and I were being instructed by our mother, Nerenial.
***
"This is the Prophecy. It is the most important prophecy ever. Through
this, some day great power will be released into the universe, for good or ill, and you are both going to be a part of it."
The red-haired child made a face. "You mean we're prophecied? What's so important about us? You're way smarter, and father is much stronger. Why aren't you two the ones prophecied?"
His mother smiled. "Because we aren't. Prophecy is not always logical, it
just is."
The dark-haired boy grinned. "I think it's neat! Father says that, some day, this Prophecy will give us the power to conquer the worlds!"
"Cool!"
The two winged boys failed to notice the pained look that crossed their
mother's face. 'The Prophecy...It predicts far more than that...Oh, my poor babies. I pray you choose the path of light...'
The lessons moved on, but the two boys noticed that their mother looked
strangely sad.
***
Strange as it may seem, for the longest time I never thought of the
Prophecy. My brother, on the other hand, was obsessed with it. I'm not really sure why. Maybe even then he somehow knew the impact it would have on his life...Or maybe he just wanted to please our father. At that time, father's approval was all he lived for.
Regardless, I never thought that I would be the one to...well, again, I
rush ahead of the story. My brother, well, he had vision. Lots of it. Literally. He saw possible futures before they happened. We depended on that a great deal; it kept me and our other half-siblings out of a lot of trouble. That was after mother left. She said she couldn't take that life any more. That father was no longer the man she had married. That he was single-handedly destroying what little was left of our world, and that he would do the same to any other he got a hold of.
After mother left, my brother changed. He'd always been driven, but now he
was cold. You've never seen a more heartless bastard than my brother was back then.
***
The field echoed with screams and moans and was littered with the bodies of the dead and dying. The red-haired young man looked about him, his black, empty eyes covered with a sheen of tears. He turned to the black haired man next to him.
"Brother? Why was this necessary? These humans were just protecting their
homes and families. Why did they have to die?"
The dark-haired man looked dispassionately at the death and pain that
surrounded him. He shrugged. "They were in the way, 'Ren. They had to be removed. Besides, they're only humans. Cattle. They would have died in a couple decades anyway. What's a few years, more or less?"
The red-haired man watched his twin strike out into the air to get a
report from one of his generals. His gaze fell upon the body of a dead man at his feet. He knelt, and touched the clenched fist of the former soldier. His hand fell open, showing a locket that had been clasped in a death grip. The young man lifted it and opened the locket to show a miniature of a pretty woman, and a lock of black hair. The tears he had held back dripped
down. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry..."
When the army had moved on, a single grave stood, with the locket dangling
from the simple wooden marker.
***
He's changed a lot since then. Those were bad times. Well, the times that
I realized were bad, anyway. Things went on like that for centuries. Then,
suddenly, everything changed. My brother had one of his stupid visions, and turned traitor along with our mother. He betrayed us. And at the time, I felt that he had betrayed me as well.
***
His brother was at it again. Another one of those irritating nightmares. He was never going to have a good night's sleep again, was he?
The young man got up and staggered over to his twin's bed. "Hey! Wake up,
stupid! It's just a dream. Wake up."
His brother just lay there, tossing and moaning, tears running down his
cheeks. The young man sighed, sat on the edge of the bed, and gathered his twin into his arms. He rocked back and forth making soothing sounds. "Shh, it'll be okay, brother. It's only a dream. That's all. Just a dream. Shh, I'm here. It'll be okay, it'll be okay."
The muffled voice of his brother floated up to him. "No, 'Ren, it won't. It won't ever be okay! Don't you see?! She was right. Our mother was right! She saw what took me years to see. He'll destroy everything. I have to...I have to..."
The young man sent an irritated gaze at his twin's head. "There you go,
talking nonsense again..."
"It's not nonsense. You know I see things, 'Ren! I've seen it! We have to
stop this, 'Ren! We have to!"
"Don't say that! You can't turn against father! He'd kill you! Or worse!
You go back to sleep! And when you wake up, no more of this ridiculous talk!
Promise me!"
His twin gave him a strange look. "You know I love you, right, 'Ren?"
The young man smiled, relieved that the subject had changed. "Yeah. I love
you as well, brother! We're twins."
As he returned to his bed, he didn't see the sorrowful smile his brother
directed at his back. "Yes. Two halves of the same soul. I love you, brother. Sleep well." Then, under his breath, the brother whispered, "Goodbye."
When the young man awoke, Rekkian had vanished.
***
So, now I was the heir. I hated it. I never liked to hurt people, I never
really saw the point. Why should we try and take the human world? The world we had was difficult enough to take care of. Of course, taking care of it was never father's intention. Many, many years passed. Too many to count. All the time, we were only helpers, suppliers, never getting directly involved with the many attempts to take over the human world.
Then came the first time I ever ran directly into the Prophecy, when I
rescued two young girls.
***
There was a man. He had a sword drawn, and it was descending down upon his
victim. She was a child! No older than five or six. He stared in shock at
the scene, as it seemed to slow down. Each small movement seemed to take hours. He saw another child, huddled in the corner, directing pleading eyes, eyes the color of the night sky, in his direction.
"Please. Please help my sister," she was whispering, but he could hear her
nonetheless. 'Should I do this? I was not intending to get involved...'
His gaze went from the pleading child to her sister. The other child
looked exactly like her sister. She was crouched, terrified. Her eyes fixed on the descending sword, as if mesmerized by it. He made his decision, and acted.
The descending sword stopped its arc and dropped, clattering to the
ground. The small child beside it, now covered with her attacker's blood, fainted. He removed his sword from the man's chest, and casually cleaned it on the body's cloak. He turned at the tug on his sleeve.
The other child was staring up at him. Her blue eyes held his. He couldn't
look away. For a moment, he had a feeling of inevitability. He would see her again someday. This child would someday affect his life. Then, the feeling was gone, and forgotten.
"Thank you for saving my sister."
Then she burst into tears. He looked down at the sobbing child. Then he
smiled. 'She really is a cute little thing. She shouldn't be this sad. It isn't right. Poor, frightened little one.'
Sheathing his sword, he protectively wrapped the child in his wings. "It'll be all right. Don't worry. You're safe now. I'm here. You're safe now..."
***
I didn't know. I didn't know that the girl was my fate. That she was more
entangled in the Prophesy than any other. That someday, worlds would rest
within her small hands. Along with my heart.
I didn't recognize her, not at first. She was simply Aristan, the Seal of
Final Healing. That's what her name means in the old language. The Final Healing. A euphemism for death. Death does take all pain away, cleanses all
sorrows...But when I saw her, death was the farthest thing from my mind. She was, quite simply, beautiful. Not just her, but her soul as well. She truly _cared_ about everyone. Even her mother. And believe me, that was difficult. Still is.
She has only to look at me with those eyes, the same deep blue as the
evening sky, and I lose all capability for rational thought. And her voice...It sounds cliché, I know, but she truly can sing like an angel.
I didn't recognize her, but I loved her. A love I thought was hopeless, for to save my people, I had to shed her twin's blood. It got so that I dreaded Winter Solstice, dreaded the Ceremony where I was required to destroy what I had come to cherish...
***
"No, Zaren! You saved her life once, can you take it now?!"
He stared at Aristan in shock, barely registering Madoka's similar
reaction. What in the Flame's name...?
"The Citadel of Secrets? Two terrified children, a man with a sword...?
Ring a bell?"
He stared at the woman in shock. He remembered. He remembered her, a small, warm weight in his arms as he comforted her. Woman, child, the two became inextricably mixed in his mind. Now, then, the two seemed to merge, seamlessly, like two handfuls of water. She had been crying then, she was crying now.
"Zaren! Please! Don't do this! She's my sister! We'll find another way.
Together. We can, Zaren! _Please!_"
Zaren opened his mouth to agree. He couldn't make her cry. Not his beloved
Aristan. He would find a different way to save his people.
Then, a great rage flashed from the depths of his mind, where it had
hidden, unnoticed, for months. ~No! No! I Will Be Free! You Will Not Rob Me Of My Revenge, Little Man!~
And his soul screamed as the Darkness surged forward and took over his
mind.
***
The Darkness. It is hard to remember what it was like, being a spectator
in my own mind. Sarendet says that, had the Darkness been at full strength, I
would have been utterly destroyed. I probably would have anyway, had he taken over before Aristan. Before I had so very much to _live_ for...I still have nightmares sometimes, of what it was like to share my mind, my body with an evil such as his...Damiet does his best to banish them, but even the Lord of Dreams can not conquer those memories. But Aristan helps...Were it not for her, I truly believe I would have lost my sanity, in the days afterwards...She is necessary to my life now. As vital as the air I breathe, as the blood in
my veins. She is my happiness.
"'Ren? 'Ren-love, have you seen Cyanne? Alex is looking everywhere for
the little minx. Ten to your twenty, Yuli and she are off doing unspeakable
mischief with Whiteblaze and well, Mischief. At least that furball hasn't managed to corrupt Amber. She's just a sweetie. A _quiet_ sweetie!"
I have to smile as I look at her. The woman who saved me from myself. I
love her more that I can ever tell her. And the amazing thing is that she seems to love me back.
Funny how things work out, isn't it?
"That's a bet I wouldn't take, love."
"Right. You never take a bet you don't think is certain."
"Oh, I don't know...I could be persuaded..."
The winged man closed the book he had been writing in and followed his
beloved from the room.
