She Wishes Roses Were Sapphires
Every day the sun came up over the desert horizon, welcoming the day with dawn. The Nazca Valley flooded with light, igniting the sand dunes like torches in its heavenly glow. The sand was hot, almost burning to the touch.
The sand reflected the hearts and souls of the six chosen to protect the valley, and unknowingly, the entire world.
The Duel Priests and Priestesses were a powerful group, believed to be chosen at birth by the dragons they would command. The first was Red Dragon Archfiend, the flaming embodiment of power. His master grew into a man of divine passion for justice, and the strength of a thousand suns.
The next was the Black-Winged Dragon, a paragon of triumph. This dragon had chosen a young boy with a chronic illness that was believed would cost him his life, but the dragon's power and his own will to fight bewildered the healers of the valley.
Then came the Ancient Fairy Dragon, the birth of beauty and compassion. The teenage boy chosen by this dragon saw the world on shades of color. A compassionate man who died at a young age, yet was able to hang on in a ghostly glow of an undying spirit of compassion, a complete reflection of the dragon he had mastered.
The Life-Stream Dragon was the god of healing and kindness. He chose a young female that grew into a powerful healing priestess, not a dueling one. Called by many as The Angel of Mercy, her touch seemed to heal all wounds, her kiss all illness.
The Black Rose Dragon was the bringer of light in darkness, darkness in light. It was the dragon that brought both great happiness and misfortune. The woman she chose was a duel priestess destined to lose all she holds dear, for the sake of the world.
The Stardust Dragon was the starlight road of life, the sapphire gem of love. He chose a young man with eyes that matched his intent, the calming blue of the cosmos. It is said that his love would become his downfall, but in his heart he never believed it.
Just like every day before it, the sun broke the grip of darkness over the Nazca Valley in Ancient Peru. A young woman, around the age of twenty, came out of a small palace-like structure and stretched. The building was on the top of a small hill that overlooked a stretch of sandy beach that never stopped, but spread all the way to the ancient and sacred valley that was a few miles away from the village.
The woman had tanned skin and silky black hair that tumbled down her back in thick tresses. She was dressed in white satin trimmed with royal blue. Unlike most women in the valley, she wore jewelry, a small blue gemstone around her neck.
She was a Duel Priestess, one of the scared protectors of the valley and village. The Duel Priests and Priestesses were revered, almost as much as their dragons were. The people believed their dragons to be gods, sent from the blazing red Dragon Star that burned overhead once a year, on the Summer Solstice.
Her eyes, the color of the sea, slowly turned to face the man that came out of the palace behind her, somehow looking regal despite his slight dishevelment. The man was similar to her in skin tone, his black hair falling around his shoulders and his clothes just as fine. A golden, helm-like crown adorned his head, and his eyes sparkled blue. Her husband, the Duel Priest of Stardust.
He came up behind her and put his arms around her, breathing in her sweet scent. He gently cupped a palm to her slightly bloated belly, feeling for the life he had put inside her six months ago. They both prayed that their baby would arrive before their dragons bode them forward in the Festival of the Valley, for fear that the pregnant Duel Priestess of Black Rose, Valarie, would have to battle.
Her husband, Apatcheta, the Duel Priest of Stardust, was hoping that if she was chosen, the gods would allow him to take her place in the Festival.
The Festival was an ancient duel preformed on horseback, unlike most other duels. The Duel Priests and Priestesses were able to command not only special weapons that they wield, born of their dragon's powers, but the dragons themselves, if the priest or priestess had the power to summon them.
They were to battle corrupted souls, taken over by the demons of the underworld. These Earthbound Immortals had a fury that was nearly untamable. But ancient rules, set in stone far beyond the birth of either the demons or the dragons, stated that the battle for darkness or light may only be waged once a year, on the Vernal Equinox.
The Duel Priests and Priestesses of the Nazca Valley had lost only once. They had watched their comrade, the Duel Priest of Ancient Fairy, fall, only to have his compassion save them all through his sacrifice to keep the demons at bay. He had lived on in the spirit of his sacrifice and through his dragon, which was able to return every year to aid in the Festival.
The two of them watched the sunlight stream towards them for only a few moments before Apatcheta said, "There's a meeting in the keep today. We must hurry if we are to reach it by sundown."
Valarie nodded slowly, and the two began their descent into departure.
They arrived slightly before the sun set. They had servants unpack their few belongings - their weapons, two beautiful swords. One was forged of black obsidian, small thorn-like structures jutting out from the blade itself, sometimes coated with poison. A live, red rose bloomed at the base of the blade, green vines beginning to wrap themselves around the hilt. The other was made of ivory, blade and hilt alike. The sword was thin but long, the blade as sharp as Stardust's claws.
Both were cleverly named after their materials, Obsidian and Ivory.
Along with a few clothes and leftover rations they had brought with them for the trip, they had also brought a bottle of wine to share with their host - Apoctaequil, the Duel Priest of Black-WInged. They had received a message from him a week ago. The messenger that was sent had been told that this message was for the Duel Priests and Priestesses only, therefore he was unable to tell the two why their comrade had asked them to come.
Before they graced the great hall of Apoctaequil's palace, the two had decided to meet up with a member of their family.
Nallely was the Duel Priestess of Life-Stream, and was also Apatcheta's younger sister. She loved her brother dearly, and he her. The two of them lost their parents at a very young age, and the stories say that their two dragons ended up raising them instead.
Nallely ran to her older brother, embracing him tightly. He hugged her back, and they exchanged quick hellos before he was called over by a servant, apologizing rapidly for the interruption, but knew this would be his only time to have the Duel Priest of Stardust bless his newborn son.
As Apatcheta walked off quickly, following the man, Nallely turned to Valerie and embraced her brother's wife. "Nallely, it good to see you! Although Apatcheta and I were hoping the next time we saw you, someone else would be with our family…" Valerie trailed off with a smile.
Nallely grinned back at her. "It's good that the child is not here yet- that would be bad, premature. You'll have to let me examine you after this meeting - it won't take too long, I promise."
Valarie looked behind her at her husband, who was being presented with an infant, and was starting to draw a small crowd. "The meeting is not supposed to start until sundown, so we have time now, if you would like." She turned back to her sister-in-law. "I think Apatcheta is going to be tied up for a little while, anyway."
Nallely smiled. "Okay, then. We can go back to my room in the palace to do it."
Valarie was led down hallways to Nallely's quarters. The room was smaller than hers and Apatcheta's, Apoctaequil had been quite considerate of the Duel Priestess of Black Rose's pregnancy, so their room was quite large.
Valarie sat down at the edge of the small bed and looked around. In the matter of only a few hours, Nallely was able to make this tiny room feel like her home. The succulent plants that grew naturally in the valley adorned the shelves of the room, tiny red and white blooms beginning to dot a few of their spiked bodies. Next to them were bottles of different liquids of healing remedies, all different colors, shining in the candlelight. Small, glass boxes held different herbs and supplements, though none of them were labeled. Candles flickered around the room, casting it in an eerie but warm light.
"I see that you've wasted no time setting up shop, Nallely." Valarie noted.
"As a healer, I need to be ready to use my abilities wherever I am, whenever it is necessary. Being the Duel Priestess of Life-Stream is not like being the Duel Priestess of Black Rose- I don't make battle-time decisions that mean life and death, I make decisions that mean life and death within the aftermath."
Valarie cocked her head slightly. Nallely had not meant it in a vicious way, clearly by her tone of understanding, but it made Valarie think- the two were revered and worshipped on the same level, but for two very different things.
"Please, remove your dress so I can get a better feel for the baby."
Valarie slowly slid the silken robes off of her- white satin that hugged her curves and flared out behind her. She sat on the bed in her underclothes while Nallely placed a palm on her stomach, looking intently at it. She pressed down a few times, than began asking questions.
"Do you eat enough? Drink enough? You're doing both for two, now, so you have to keep up with that, even if you're not really hungry."
"Yes, our village is especially plentiful this time of year, so there's lots of fresh fish and fruit- and the rainfall is good, so our basin reserve has been fine"
"Good. Have you had any morning sickness?"
"A little, but only been a few times. I rarely get it."
"What about sleep? Have you been sleeping through the night, or do you wake up continuously, or maybe can't fall asleep at all?"
"My sleep has been decent, although with the Festival of the Valley's deadline approaching, it causes both Apatcheta and I stress over wether I will be chosen to battle this year."
Nallely slowed leaned back, away from Valarie. She motioned for her brother's wife to put her dress back on. "If you are chosen, do you and Apatcheta have a solution? Even when you win, the force and concentration could possibly cause you to lose the baby."
Valarie sighed. "Apatcheta plans to convince the dragons and demons to allow him to fight, instead. The demons may not go for it after he beat them so brutally last year, but to be honest, I'm not really all that worried about it."
Nallely sat back, and looked at Valarie with a sort of faraway sadness in her gray eyes- their eye color was the only physical trait that Apatcheta and Nallely lacked in similarities. Valarie blinked at her, uncertain of the reason for her cloudy expression. "What is it?"
Nallely looked at Valarie. "Do you know exactly what my abilities are as the the Duel Priestess of Life-Stream? It is true that I possess the power to heal, but I also have another gift." Valarie eyes widened. "Another gift?"
"Sometimes, while treating people, I am able to see parts of their future."
Valarie sat in front of Nallely, bewildered. "You can really see people's futures? That's incredible, Nallely!"
"It can be both a gift and a curse, though, Valarie." Nallely sighed, exhaling slowly through her mouth. "Because, my dear sister-in-law, I just saw some of your future."
Valarie was excited at first, eager to hear of some of the future, her future. She thought at first that Nallely was going to say that her child was going to grow up to be as strong and bright as his or her father, with eyes like glistening sapphires, just like him. But then Valarie remembered the look of darkness in Nallely's eyes.
"What did you see, Nallely?"
"Blood. Lots of it. I can't tell what it's from. Maybe your labor in the birth of the baby, but that's not what I felt it to be. I heard you screaming- but it was not a cry of pain, as it would be expected if you were giving birth. It was a cry of earth-shattering sorrow. And I saw you holding someone close…but it wasn't a newborn baby, it was…a man."
Valarie was frozen.
"Dark times are approaching swiftly, Duel Priestess of Black Rose. Best we all be ready for it."
Valarie entered the Great Hall again, a few moments later, almost stumbling blindly forwards, walking like ghost in shock.
Blood, sorrow…a man?
Valarie stood in the hall, hand against the wall, supporting herself. What could that mean?
She saw Apatcheta walking towards her, and she instantaneously decided not to tell him about his sister's words…yet.
She knew he would begin speculating, retreat to their home on the shore, and try to figure out the reading until he was dead. He certainly trusted Nallely's judgement.
Valarie's husband embraced her and apologized for the swift departure. "Apoctaequil is waiting for us. Manco and Michka are already in the war room - they're waiting for Nallely and us."
As her husband's words left his mouth, Valarie heard Nallely's footsteps behind her. The Duel Priestess was carrying a lot of scrolls in her arms, a determined look on her face. She stopped and looked gravely at Apatcheta and Valarie.
"I…I know why the Duel Priest of Black-Winged called us here. It is…not good news."
"Why, Nallely? Why were we summoned with such haste?" Valarie questioned.
"It would be best if…we went to the war room where Apoctaequil can help me explain."
Valarie faltered for a minute, worried as to what Nallely meant. Apatcheta suddenly became very dark, seemingly drawing in on himself. Valarie knew that body language very well. Apatcheta always acted that way when he was worried. It was usually accompanied by her hugging him close, pressing her cheek against his pounding heart, waiting for it to calm down. But they were not in a place where that would be acceptable, so Valarie followed him into the war room.
"Thank you for coming," Apoctaequil began, addressing his seated comrades.
"What's this about, Duel Priest of Black-Winged?" interrupted Manco, folding his arms across his chest, impatient.
Apoctaequil ignored his outburst and continued. "I'm afraid I have very bad news. It seems that the Festival of the Valley is upon us - I received warning from Black-Winged Dragon, who brought with him a brief showing of the Dragon Star."
The court sat in stunned silence. It stretched for far too many moments, echoing throughout the entire room. This was unheard of - The Festival of the Valley being preformed before the Vernal Equinox?
"Who…" Apatcheta began, "who has been chosen to fight?"
The Dragon Star indicates who will fight, whoever has the best change of winning.
Nallely took a sharp breath in, stealing a glance at Apoctaequil before she answered her brother. "That's the problem, dear brother…not only one, but two of our very own must fight…" she trailed off, tears beginning to form in her eyes.
"They must fight each other."
Silence stretched even farther, threatening to break open the doors and overflow into the rest of the palace.
"How is that even possible?!"Manco angrily demanded, standing up with such force that his chair fell over, and he slammed his hands down on the table.
"The demons have gained more power, despite Apatcheta's victory at the Festival of the Valley last year. They have gained a following, a cult out in the desert that we have not had contact with, nor have even heard of until recently. And they've been brewing and gaining recruits for months now. The demons are going to corrupt one of our dragons…and we know which one they want." Apoctaequil said.
Tears streamed down Nallely's face. "They demand the Black Rose Dragon, and they want the Stardust Dragon to fight her."
Valarie blacked out then, the shock gripping her too tightly.
"…waking up now…"
Valarie slowly opened her eyes to Nallely standing over her, a slightly crooked smile on her face. "Welcome back."
Valarie sat up slowly, then realized she was in her room at Apoctaequil's palace. She blinked a few times, and then all the memories came rushing back to her.
Her eyes shot open, wide. "Where is Apatcheta?!"
Nallely pointed to the door. "He's in the war room with the others, discussing our plan of attack."
Valarie started to head to the door, when Nallely's arm shot out and stopped her. "Valarie…"
The Duel Priestess of Black Rose stopped and looked at her sister-in-law.
"He refuses to let you lose."
Nallely released Valarie and watched her run in the direction of the war room.
The Duel Priestess of Life-Stream exhaled with a sigh. "Dark times are not coming- they are here."
Valarie burst into the war room without introduction. She found her husband and the Duel Priests of Black-Winged and Red Archfiend seated at the long table, pouring over ancient texts and a large scroll of dried papyrus paper.
The three men looked up when she walked in, and Apatcheta stood up. He met her eyes with a gaze that read Are you alright? and in answer, she threw her arms around him and buried her head in his chest, fighting back tears.
How was she supposed to fight the love of her life?
Apoctaequil and Manco were silent as the two finished their embrace. Valarie sniffed, and Apatcheta pulled out a seat at the table for her and motioned for her to sit down. She did, then looked up and met her comrades' eyes.
"What's our plan?"
Apoctaequil motioned to the parchment in front of him. "It says very little about the abilities of the demons, even in the oldest of our texts. We do not know how they plan to corrupt your dragon, or when they plan to." Apoctaequil sat back, slowly. "My best guess would be that they plan to do it right at the festival, as it approaches so swiftly."
Valarie paused for a moment, then asked "When exactly is the festival supposed to take place?"
Apoctaequil almost instantly paled, and Manco looked at his hands. Valarie's eyes widened with surprise at their reaction.
Slowly, she turned to her husband, who was looking with great intensity at the parchment. He sighed when he felt her eyes upon him, and turned to face her.
The look in his eyes was heart-breaking.
"Valarie, they want us to fight tomorrow, at dusk."
Valarie stared at her husband, and darkness started to creep into her vision. But this time, she shook off her shock. I need to know everything.
"How are they able to corrupt Black Rose? And how are they able to change the date of the Festival?"
Apoctaequil sighed, not with frustration at Valarie, but with a heavy sadness pressing down on him. "Like I said, we're not sure, but the cult in the desert has been giving them power. Through…through human sacrifice."
Valarie didn't gasp. This was not unheard of or uncommon.
"Through that power, the demons of the desert have…claimed hostages. Travelers in the valley, that they threatened to have sacrificed unless we give in to their whims."
They all agreed - there was no way they were going to let the hostages be killed for their battle. It was bad enough the cult was sacrificing actual human beings to give the demons more power for this vile ritual.
"Why would The Dragon Star have chosen Apatcheta to fight me? Doesn't…doesn't it know he is my love? That I carry his legacy inside me?"
Valarie held slight resentment for the Crimson Star, a holy symbol she had always looked to for guidance before.
"My guess? It doesn't know about the love you share, and simply chose Apatcheta because, in all honesty, he is the strongest of all of us."
"What if we just didn't show up for the damn thing?" Manco's voice was mostly harsh, but held an ounce of concern in it. "We've never done that before."
Apoctaequil pinched the bridge of his nose, almost as if he was annoyed. "It states clearly in the texts that if we simply refuse to fight, then that counts as a forfeit, which counts as a loss. And if we lose…"
Manco huffed and sat back in his chair, arms folded. "Yeah, yeah, darkness spreads and many people will die, until we fight the demons next year. I get it."
They sat in silence.
Many moments passed by before Apatcheta looked up. "It seems as though we have no choice."
Valarie looked at her husband.
"We must meet their demands- Stardust and I must fight Valarie and Black Rose."
Valarie met her husband's eyes, and saw the pain echoing in him.
And as much as it broke her heart and shattered her soul, she agreed.
Apatcheta slipped away from his sleeping wife, padding his way from their shared bed to the balcony just a few feet away. He opened the door and quietly shut it behind him, and breathed in the night air of the Nazca Valley.
He leaned against the railing, taking in the view of Apoctaequil's home city, where he built his palace. The city was mostly quiet, except for a few lanterns lit, probably older men having a drink and discussing the Festival of The Valley.
The Duel Priests and Priestesses had decided it was best to share with the people the terrible news they had received. That not only was the Festival to take place at dusk the next day, but that the Duel Priest of Stardust was to battle a corrupted Duel Priestess of Black Rose for the peace of the desert.
Though slight unsettlement had rattled the city, they were shocked to find that not many people were worried about the Festival this year.
Why?
Because the Duel Priest of Stardust was the strongest in history.
But did they ever consider to take into account his own feelings?
He knew that his personal affairs were not something to throw away the entire civilization for, but if there was a single chance to change the outcome…
Stardust Dragon gently nuzzled him from behind, and he mindlessly reached down to pet him in affection. He paused for a moment, then looked at his dragon in sorrow.
"What can I do, Stardust? I'm not strong enough to kill Valarie. I just can't…but I can't willingly throw away the entire valley. This seems like the end…"
Stardust blinked at his companion.
"Stardust…" tears blurred Apatcheta's vision as his dragon placed its head close to his in affection.
Right as a single, silver tear dripped down his cheek, his eyes shot open. "Stardust…That's it!"
His dragon did not move from its comforting embrace, but strained it's ears to listen to Apatcheta.
"Victim's Sanctuary…the ability we developed for you in secret…"
Stardust embraced tighter, knowing what sacrifice would be made.
"It's the only way, Stardust. It's the only way…"
And with that, the Duel Priest of Stardust was content.
Just like every day before it, the sun broke the grip of darkness over the Nazca Valley in Ancient Peru. A young woman stepped out into the coliseum-like battlefield, dressed in silken white and blue, the obsidian glint of her sword flashing wickedly in her hands. She mounted a steed as black as pitch, and let her eyes drift blankly towards the other end of the battlefield.
Valarie's heart broke even more at the sight.
Apatcheta was on the other side , his sword glowing in the sunlight. The golden helm he wore glinted with sunlight and sent rainbows dancing in Valarie's eyes. His skin was sunbathed and golden, his long black hair silky. His eyes were a clear, gem-like blue, his gaze creating holes in her resolve.
Her husband looked so handsome, so valiant, so strong.
He gave her a small smile as he mounted his horse, and turned so they were facing each other.
Valarie steeled her resolve, and so did Apatcheta.
Valarie had thought long and hard about what she intended to do. She had thought about simply not fighting back and letting Apatcheta win, and that was she had intended to do. However, an uncertain thought had creeped into the back of her mind. She gently laid a hand on her abdomen.
What about their unborn child?
She knew Apatcheta would never forgive himself if she died and lost the baby, or if she had lost the baby in general. He would live his life in sorrow and regret, guilty until the day he died.
She refused to let him go through that, especially at her hand.
She knew the only way either of them could possibly be happy was to leave it to fate- both of them would have to try their very best.
She met Apatcheta's eyes. They looked…calm. Clear.
They looked like he understood.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" Apoctaequil's voice rang through the coliseum. Though it was loud, his voice sounded both heavy and thick, like he had been crying. Of course- The Duel Priest of Black-Winged and Apatcheta were incredibly close and had grown to be very good friends over the years. It pained Apoctaequil to have to see him fight his own wife, who was carrying their unborn child.
"The Festival of the Valley for this year is about to come underway!" He paused for a moment. "As many of you know, this years determination of wether the valley will be ruled in the light or in the darkness has been changed this year. Due to the growing power of the cult in the desert worshipping the demons and providing them with human sacrifices, the demons have grown considerably in power. This has caused them to able to make demands that we could not refuse, altering the rules of the Festival."
Whispers broke out among the crowd that had gathered. The Festival of the Valley was the greatest attraction of the year, and many people traveled a great distance to Apoctaequil's home city to view the event.
"Silence. We-" Apoctaequil's words were cut off as a dragon appeared behind him, and roared loudly to alert him of it's presence. He turned to find himself face-to-face with the Ancient Fairy Dragon, and the silent spirit of Michka, her fallen Duel Priest, next to her.
Apoctaequil gave a small smile to acknowledge their appearance and to thank them for their help with the Festival, and then continued.
"We had to meet their demands- it is not something that we can stop, and to forfeit would count as a loss. So, it breaks my heart to say that this year… the Duel Priest of Stardust will be battling the Duel Priestess of Black Rose for the light of the valley."
Manco and Michka looked on in sorrow, and Apoctaequil swallowed his sadness. Nallely stood, silent. "Please, begin now, my friends."
This was it.
Apatcheta's horse raced at Valarie's, both their dragons taking solid form, ready for battle.
He watched as the demons corrupted his wife's dragon so easily. The petals that were its wings drooped and wilted, and its eyes glowered with malicious rage. Apatcheta met the dragon's eyes- and he accepted it all. The festival, the demons, and the fate that would befall both him and the one he loved.
He had to, or he would be like a ghost who could never leave, haunting the Earth forever, a mere whisper of the supernova his love once was.
He didn't want to look at his wife, who he knew had hot tears streaming down her beautiful face, her sorrow of an outcome unknown to her too painful to find out.
The two dragons clashed, and sparks of purple thorny flames were met with brilliant, stardusted blue. The light it caused illuminated the arena and many of the spectators shielded their eyes from the brightness, including Michka.
Manco and Apoctaequil stared on, eager yet uneasy with the battle taking place before them.
Lost from view, Stardust's yellow eyes flashed, and he took a dive at the other dragon. When he lunged, he sunk his teeth into Black Rose's wing, and the other cried out in pain. The flames dissipated, and the dragon's violent embrace was in view as the priest and priestess were still on their horses, meters away from one another.
Flames erupted from Stardust's mouth and shot through Black Rose, causing the other dragon to roar in pain, then lose its manifestation in a flurry of petals as black as pitch. The flames raced towards Valarie, and she shut her eyes.
Then, as quick as lightning, Stardust was in front of her. It opened its wings to its own attack, and accepted it in a fold of its massive wings. Then it exploded outwards in a shower of stardust, and the flames rocketed back at Apatcheta.
Victim's Sanctuary…he thought as he opened his arms to accept the blast, mimicking the way his dragon had done. Valarie's eyes widened as she watched her husband smile at her, moments before the blast slammed into him with so much force that it ripped clothes and skin alike, sending trails of blood streaming in the air around him as he fell off his horse.
All he remembered was the pain- not of the wounds on his chest and torso, but the pain his wife's horrified face brought him forever after that moment.
"Nooo!" Valarie's scream pierced through the arena, and she flew off her horse and raced to Apatcheta. Her feet hit the sand of the arena with so much force that it left small craters where they touched down, leaving a trail of her sorrow. She fell to her knees and fought through her tears to see his face, which smiled up at her when she cupped his cheek with her hand.
"Val…" he said weakly, and fresh tears rushed to her eyes.
"Hang on, Apatcheta, darling, please, just hang on…" Valarie was sobbing as she held him, the blood pumping out of his wounds in a current of crimson, staining Valarie's white dress and the sand beneath them red.
Nallely was there in an instant, next to her brother, the Life-Stream Dragon touching down behind her. She pressed her hands to her brother's stomach and chest, trying to stop the bleeding as best she could.
Apoctaequil and Manco were doing their best to funnel the spectators of the Festival out of the arena, as many were terrified at the spectacle they had just witnessed. To watch the best hope they had for their valley fall was going to be devastating to the people.
"He's lost consciousness…" Nallely whispered to herself, even though Valarie could hear her.
Valarie looked deeply into her husband's face. His eyes were closed and his face was strained in pain, the skin pulled tight. Racing through her head was all the moments they had ever had together - the day they met, their wedding, the night of passion they had to form their unborn baby…all that was a blur inside her mind, forming together into one thought: Please don't die.
The Duel Priest of Black-Winged and of Red Archfiend raced over, their footsteps just an echo in the empty arena. Michka had fled with Ancient Fairy Dragon to the Spirit World, to see what had become of the Black Rose and Stardust Dragons.
"We need to get him out of here, to somewhere safe and clean…" Nallely's voice trailed off, and Manco and Apoctaequil kneeled down to Apatcheta's side. Valarie heard Apoctaequil suck in his breath when he saw the wounds, scared. She looked at the Duel Priest of Black-Winged's eyes, and she saw fear reflected in his gray irises, and she knew. These wounds were worse than the ones that killed Mitchka seven years ago.
Manco slid Apatcheta's arm around his neck and his own arm under his legs, and very carefully lifted him against himself. Carefully cradling his friend against him, he realized the blood beginning to drip from the Duel Priest of Stardust's lips. Nallely stared intensely at it, and her breath hitched.
"We have to hurry. Move!"
The candlelight was dim, as night had fallen over the valley. Apatcheta was lying in his and Valarie's bed in Apoctaequil's castle, a thick alpaca skin covering his legs. His breathing was raspy and his face had a red tint to it, his hair sticking to the edges of his face with the sweat of a high fever setting in.
His chest and stomach were bare, as Nallely was applying a salve she had brought with her to it. She had managed to stop the bleeding, but he had lost so much blood that he had yet to wake up, even though it had been hours since he had been wounded.
Nallely sat in on a stool at her brother's bedside. She was focused intently on his wounds, the deep slashes that stretched across his body were starting to get the deep red glow of infection, despite her best efforts.
Manco was by the door with his arms crossed, looking down at the floor. No one knew, but he was trying to fight back his tears. He had always felt closer with Apatcheta than any one else, as he seemed to understand the harshness that went with the reality of justice better than anyone else had. His bond with the Duel Priest of Stardust was unbreakable, and seeing him in such an amount of pain, wounds that may cost him his life…the sadness was overwhelming for Manco.
Apoctaequil sat in a chair at the foot of the bed, watching Nallely work. His eyes followed her every move. Every time her fingers trailed over the wounds, every time she wrapped bandages around him, every time she tried to bathe the sweat off his face and neck, leaving the cloth on his forehead, his eyes never left her. He was surveying the condition of both of them, like he had become the guardian of their group.
Valarie sat on the bed with her husband, one of his hands grasped tightly in hers. She ran her fingers over the split skin of his knuckles, trying to provide comfort. She brought his hand up to her lips and gently kissed his hand all over, as if her love could reach him in the world of darkness he laid.
"All right…" Nallely began, closing the jar of salve as the others looked up to meet her eyes, red with tears that had been forced to not fall. She blankly and briefly met each of their gazes before she pulled the furs over her brother to keep him warm. "That's all I can do for now. The next move depends on how he is in the morning."
At this, Apoctaequil and Manco exchanged nervous glances. Valarie's eyes did not move from Apatcheta, even as her ears strained to listen, hanging onto Nallely's every word.
"Don't worry, I'll be staying with him through the night." Nallely quickly tried to reassure her friends. "Even though the wounds will need time to heal, the least I can do is nurse his fever."
Apoctaequil and Manco looked at each other uneasily. Slowly, as if by an unspoken agreement between the two of them, Apoctaequil slowly rose from Apatcheta's bedside and walked towards the door. Manco, stone-faced, walked out without a word, but Apoctaequil slowly turned around to meet Nallely's eyes.
"Please, take care of him, Angel of Mercy."
Apoctaequil slowly walked away, and shut the door quietly behind him. Valarie could hear their slow footsteps as the sound bounced around the empty hallway outside the door. Valarie turned to face Nallely, who had turned back to Apatcheta. She took the cloth off his forehead and dunked it in a clay bowl of fresh water, wringing it out, before meticulously placing it back on his forehead and absent-mindedly running her hand through his black hair.
Nallely sighed and looked up at Valarie, who looked to her with broken hope.
"It…doesn't look good, Val." Nallely whispered, and Valarie gripped her husband's hand tighter.
Nallely had done her best to stay awake, but the hours spent tending to his wounds before took their toll. She fell asleep sitting in the stool next to her brother, her head laid at his side. Valarie still sat with her husband, taking Nallely's place in nursing him.
The fever that came with the infection of his wounds burned through him like a wildfire, and all she could do was attempt to keep the heat of his skin at bay.
Near dawn, he stirred. Valarie stared intently at him as his eyes slowly lifted to reveal glassy, bright sapphires she would trade all the roses in the world for. He blinked a few times at her, then she placed her hand on his cheek. He sighed as she felt the burn of his skin, and he felt the delightful coolness of her palm in contrast.
"Apatcheta…" the sound of his name torn from her own throat broke her heart to hear.
He didn't even have time to respond before harsh coughs ripped from his throat. He was too weak to sit up by himself to clear his lungs, so Valarie wrapped her arm around his shoulders and lifted him up. She took a clay cup and brought it so his lips, tipping back the water into his mouth. A few weak coughs left him as she lowered him back down, a look of strangled horror crossing her face as he weakly shut his eyes.
She was listening to his slow breathing when she felt a prickle on the back of her neck. She turned her head to the opposite corner of the room. She wasn't surprised to see Michka standing in a ghostly glow, Ancient Fairy behind him. What she was surprised to see was Stardust, in a small, tiny form, in Michka's arms. Without a sound, Stardust slowly slipped away from the spirit and jumped on the bed, agile as a cat. It padded over to Apatcheta and pushed it's nose into his side, and watched him intently. When Apatcheta didn't stir, it visibly deflated in it's eyes. It resigned to curling up against Apatcheta, wrapping it's tail around itself, and shutting it's eyes.
"Stardust is sad…" Michka said thoughtfully, trailing off. Valarie turned to look at the spirit. "He wanted to be with him." He then turned to Apatcheta, and said very quietly, "He's dying…"
Valarie's breath caught in her throat. She struggled to find words to express her sorrow. Before she could, Michka spoke again.
"Black Rose is gone." Michka was looking at Valarie again. "I tried to find her, but I couldn't. I think she ran away because she feels bad for hurting him."
Valarie couldn't help but think that her dragon bore no guilt - she wasn't even entirely sure what had happened. She knew Apatcheta had won, so how had he been hurt? She remembered Stardust's flames racing at her, and then her husband's dragon's silver body was in front of her, almost like it was protecting her. The next thing she saw was her husband's eyes, looking at her apologetically. Then a scream tore from her throat as the beautiful cosmic flames were in direct contrast with the blood that splattered on the ground.
She also couldn't help but deduce that her husband had planned this. It seemed obvious to her that he had tried to protect their baby, resting and growing inside of her. She knew in her heart that he done the right thing, but she didn't understand why it had to hurt so much.
She lowered her head. She didn't know what to do. For the first time in her life, she didn't have Apatcheta's guidance to help her.
She looked over at her husband.
When she saw him, so many memories danced in front of her eyes. There was the day they got married, the night they conceived their unborn child, the moment when their eyes first met, the first kiss they shared under the stars, dancing on cold, moonlight bleached sand.
But the moment that stood out to Valarie in blunt contrast was not any of these moments. It was the day Apatcheta became a Duel Priest, when he was much, much younger. The time she watched him from afar, unknowing that she would be at his side only 2 years later, and he would fall in love with her.
But Valarie had fallen in love with him at that moment. It wasn't his strength or his grace that pulled at her heart and made it follow him wherever he went. What made her fall in love with him is the promise that he made that day. Standing in front of the crowd, the formal robes of the Duel Priest of Stardust making an ocean of white silk around him, holding the sword made of Stardust delicately in his hands. His eyes had met the crowd, as they waited with baited breath for his words, what he would say to them.
"There will always be evil in the world," he had said, "but there will always be love too. And the only way love overcomes evil," he had looked out over the crowd, sparkling in the desert sunlight, "is to allow it."
The crowd had erupted then, but Valarie had always thought they hadn't really considered his words. He was telling them that they had to allow themselves to feel love to it's fullest potential. To understand that there was hate in the world, inside their own hearts, but that if you stay mad, if you allow hate to enter, then you are the one who will always suffer for it.
She had remembered one night, lying awake with him after they had made love. The moonlight danced through the room, while her head laid on his chest, and she listened to his slow breathing.
"You meant to let go of hate." She had said, quietly, for fear of disturbing the moonlit bleached room, as if it held a stillness to it, frozen in time.
Apatcheta was silent for a long while, considering her words. Of course he knew what she meant - of course he remembered that moment. It was as important of a moment for him as it was for her, because that was the moment he made the world listen to his words.
"Yes." He began, "I have always believed that if you stay mad, then you will always suffer."
They were silent again for a long time, the only sound the desert winds outside, dancing in the night.
"I love you." Valarie said.
"I love you, too." Apatcheta smiled.
Apatcheta died before the sun rose.
Valarie had been the only one awake for it, Nallely still asleep at her brother's side. In reality, there was nothing the young healer could have done.
His breathing became slow and heavy, his eyelids fluttering, his chest moving up and down with incredible effort. His skin paled and the deep red flush of fever became even more noticeable, splashed across his cheeks.
His hands started to become cold even before he died.
After he took his last breath, Valarie collapsed on his lifeless body, unable to contain her sorrow any longer. Her body gave out, and she began to sob, the sound echoing off the walls.
Nallely awoke with a start, her eyes snapping open and falling on her brother.
She knew instantaneously.
"No!" she screamed, grabbing his face in her hands, pulling him towards her, holding him close. Tears streamed from her eyes as she whispered "No, no, no, no…"
Valarie reached a hand out to the other, younger woman, and placed it on her shoulder. Nalley's form shook with quiet sobs, like an earthquake of silent and devastating emotion.
A moment later, the door burst open. Manco stood lightly clad in the linens he slept in, and his eyes widened at the sight before him. His whole body started to shake as he stared, like his eyes could burn holes in the Heavens. He fell to his knees, unable to hold the sorrow within him any longer, and stared at the ground, saying no words.
Apoctaequil was busy that morning, trying to comfort the village, inform them of a false recovery, false prosperity. He was in the middle of comforting an old woman, who feared the end of everything after the Duel Priest of Stardust had fallen.
While it was true that Apatcheta had technically won in the ritual, his inability to preform in another one would mean the end of the complete confidence in the Priests and Priestesses of Light. The group had faced something similar when Michka had lost, but to lose Apatcheta, their best warrior? The result would be complete chaos.
He was trying to convince her of his survival as much as he was trying to convince himself, when his voice broke as he heard the sound of a dragon wailing in the distance.
When Apoctaequil finally made it to the sickroom, Michka was already there. He was standing sadly in his ghostly glow, silver tears like moonlight on his face. He held his Ancient Fairy Dragon in his arms, as it too wept for the loss of the Duel Priest of Stardust.
The Red Dragon Archfiend stood beside Manco, making no move to comfort its master. It knew there was no point - he would not be comforted, because there was no bright side to this death, no silver lining to hold onto. Instead, it stood stoic, staring, but sadness stood out in it's eyes.
Nalley sat on the bed with her brother, stoking his hair back away from his closed eyes, trying to comfort a corpse. Life Stream sat in her lap, unmoving, almost like it was asleep.
The Duel Priestess of Black Rose sat, her hands around her dead husband's. She sat unmoving, eyes staring blankly at his face. It was like she couldn't comprehend what had happened, like she refused to believe he was gone. It was like she was hoping it was all just a dream, that she'd wake up gasping next to him. That he would comfort her in a moonlight-bleached room, not his depressed dragon nudging her thigh, searching for comfort from her.
And still, Black Rose Dragon was nowhere to be found.
Two days later, Apatcheta's funeral was packed.
People flooded into the village's square, carrying flowers and candles, and for those too poor to afford them, handfuls of beautiful quartz stones, that the people called "Desert Diamonds," that they had probably spent hours in the early morning searching for.
The procession was long, and held many tears and sorrow filled eyes. Choked and strangled words, constricting throats and hearts.
Valarie felt numb the whole time, even when Stardust was sent back to the spirit world forever. It floated over Apatcheta's dead body, and roared fiercely, all the power and sorrow packed into one earth shattering sound. It turned to Stardust and blew away in the desert wind, becoming pinpricks in the night sky, leaving openings to what lies beyond.
Valarie looked at her husband one last time before he was sealed in a tomb fit for a king forever, and she only had one thought.
You had eyes like sapphires and a heart like a blooming rose.
One year later, Valarie couldn't stand the sight of her son.
She neglected him horribly, without even realizing it. Nallely ended up taking caring of him most of the time, taking him to live with her eventually.
Nallely would ask Valarie if she wanted to see her son, look into his eyes, and see her dead husband in them. "They are the same color as Apatcheta's were…"
As the aunt of her child's words trailed off, Valarie said in a blank voice "He died for that child."
Nallely joined her sister-in-law at the window, staring out into the blackness with her. After a moment she said, "I have to go get more water, I'll be back in a moment, okay?"
Valarie didn't answer her, but simply stared straight.
"I'll be back in a moment, little one." Nallely said to her nephew.
Valarie always felt like her heart could stop at any minute, and it wouldn't even matter to her. Her life had no meaning without him. Even their son provided no comfort, no matter how much she wanted to love him, as he was Apatcheta's last gift, his legacy, the thing he loved the most that he left behind.
It made Valarie sick to look at him, because all she could see was Apatcheta bloody, beaten, and then dead.
She was sitting alone in that chair, with her son only a few feet away, trying to reach out to her, when her dragon returned to her for the first time in over a year.
Outside of the window overlooking the desert, Black Rose floated in her full form, eyes burning with every emotion Valarie felt. Their eyes met, and Valarie knew.
I understand.
The glass shattered like sand in a storm, and when Nallely returned only moments later, Valarie and the dragon were gone, and so was the soul of the Duel Priest of Stardust's son.
On that day, the Curse of the Black Rose was born.
"But it's this mark that's caused all the suffering I've had to live through!"
"That's right, but if you stay mad, then you will always suffer!"
Words had never resonated so strongly within Akiza's conflicted mind. They caused a deja vu of her soul, like words she had heard before, but her subconscious couldn't locate them in her memory. The words this man, this other Signer had spoken were like wisps of hope, flying around in her mind, just close enough to touch, but slipped through her fingers when she tried to hold on.
Yusei just kept pushing, kept chipping away at the white plaster covering her face and her heart. His words pierced through it like Cupid's arrows, falling away when they got too close to damage.
His words were like rose petals floating in Stardust, crystallized in sapphire.
When she met his eyes, years later, the only words she had to say, she meant with all her heart.
"Thank you, Yusei."