CHAPTER 2
Fairytale Gone Bad
Okay I know the story is really angsty as of now, but I promise it gets better :D And THANKS for the reviews! Okay this one is short, but I promise the next one gets a LOT longer!
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Ethan's POV
The first thing I noticed when I entered the room was how battle weary and dishevelled everyone looked. It was as though they'd spent the last three weeks without a wink of sleep.
Or a shower. Or even food for that matter. Bloodied clothes, bandaged wounded, gaunt faces... the war had taken its toll in ways unimaginable. And as I entered the room, the relief on everyone's faces was palpable. For some wierd reason, that made me feel awkward and guilty.
"Ethan!" gasped Dad as I entered in, taking a step towards me and pulling me into a hug. I hugged him back and for a moment, I smiled softly – the first time till that damned day three weeks ago. I felt comforted... and enveloped in the same sense of security and everything-is-going-to-be-alright that Dad's bear hug made me feel after Sera died.
I nodded at Matt, who smiled back, looking weary and worn out despite being an immortal. Neriah, who was leaning against his side, eyes watery, managed to give me a weak smile. Isabel stood solidly by my side as Arkarian came up to me hugged me, his blue hair unkempt and maroon eyes set off my purple bags under his eyes. Greeting Jimmy and a few others, I decided to get rigt to the point.
"Where is he?"
Matt answered, the evident leader. It was shocking how the guy who was so unsure of himself suddenly commanded attention in this quiet, unassuming way, slumped on a couch one arm thrown protectively around a sniffling Neriah. In every line of his forn, from the way he held his nexk up high to the way his eyes constantly surveyed the room, taking everything in, you just knew that he was someone who you could trust to lead us into an era of happiness.
"In the Inner Chamber", he said sadly. "He just started coughing up blood so I think he hasn't got much time left so. We should go"
Isabel looked pained, and I just knew she was blaming herself for not being able to heal him. Arkarian took her hand in his, and led us in.
Lord Penabrin lay on a huge white bed, looking so weak and emanciated despite his size that even I couldn't hold back a gasp. In the dying rays of the sun, his face was paper white, and his hands bony and shaking. And yet he managed to greet us with a cheery smile, blue eyes shrewdly surveying me.
"I'm so glad you're all here", he said throatily, and then burst into a fit of coughs. I heard Neriah take a sharp breath in and felt Dillon stiffen besides me.
"Now now", he said soothingly as tears started streaming down Neriah's face. "We knew our time was coming up the moment Lorian fell. It was only a matter of when we would fall too."
Another spasm of pain shook him, and Isabel rushed forward to try and relieve him. But even without being a Truthseer I could read the anguish in her mind, as nothing she did countered Keziah's dark magic.
"Don't have much time" gasped the Council member, his lips chalk gray. "You are our future, my children, and don't be afraid that we are no longer there. There is nothing that you can't do without us. And you have to do is believe that. We have shown you the path and it is up to you to follow it. And however sure you are of the Order's death, never doubt that at any point in time, the Dark could rise again. You are now the protectors of this delicate balance between Good and Evil, and I charge to to ever be loyal to that duty."
I saw Matt nod resolutely, drinking in Lord Penabrins last words. Lord Penabrin coughed loudly again, this time spewing out blood. Isabel looked ready to cry for the second time in an hour, something I would probably have laughed hystericaly at if told a month ago, as her healing powers failed her for the first time.
"And now I must speak to Isabel and Ethan alone", he said. Matt looked at him curiously, but decided not to question it, walking out of the room along with the rest.
Isabel tool Lord Penabrin's hand in hers, as I walked over to him.
His hands were stone cold, almost like marble but his face was burning up with a raging fever. Isabel shook her head at me. His time was, undoubtedly, upon him.
"You can only use it once", he spurted out suddenly,voice cracking, eyes wide and staring at Isabel. "We never told you…we never…you must use it, and you can have but one chance. Only once. Only once."
"What, what are you talking about", asked Isabel desperately, eyes darting to mine. "What can I use?"
Lord Penabrin started shuddering, tossing and turning, as spasm after spasm of pain shook his form.
"It was wrong…so wrong. Terrible! Yes…it must be remedied", he whispered vaguely, and I had to strain my ears just to hear him. "But its very tricky. Very delicate. Must be careful."
"He's babbling" I said softly. "He's delirious"
Isabel seemed to agree with me, as she actually did start crying. I couldn't blame her. Even I was choking back my emotion seeing this man, once to powerful and wise and great, reduced to such a painful, frail being. It was like watching an established order of things, a familiar world, melt away into something new and strange and unfamiliar. Everything that I once knew, once associated to the Order would be shattered after he died. It was devastating to even think about.
As he writhed and grew colder and colder, he took he final breathe, not before thrusting a yellowed piece of parchment into my hands. I was absolutely confused.
"Save Rochelle"
His voice choked on the last word, but what he said was unmistakable. Lord Penabrin, last of the Tribunal of the Guardians of Time, then fell limp, eyes shutting close.
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Cliffy!!
Well, in a sense of the word.
Anyways, this Chapter is dedicated to:
Oda
and her rainforests
