The conclusion to the tale of Torak's Triumph . . . Finally, it's here!

Belgarath

I was sitting underneath the ancient, sentient tree in the Vale when my friend upstairs returned.

"Listen, and listen well. I'm only allowed to tell you this once, so you might want to take notes."

"Can we cut the sarcasm and get on with it?"

"Just listen to me. The next EVENT is with the next eclipse. Torak, his son, and their disciples are going to be gathering on the coast of Mallorea to oversee the invasion force. You, Geral, Polgara, and Beldin have to be there to meet and fight them, or else the West will fall and the world will belong to Torak for all time."

"Peachy, but who are the Children of Light and Dark, aren't they Geral and Zarokal?"

"Can't tell you."

"By the Gods, why not?"

"Why? Because Torak will then know as well, and if that happens then the last hope you have will die."

"Then what can you tell us?"

"Geral has to be there, along with your daughter and brother."

"That doesn't seem very even."

"Don't worry, it soon will be."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"Trust me."

I wanted to scream then and there . . . so I did. I HATE it when people say that to me! And I think he knew that.

With this information, I walked to my tower and called everyone there. One by one, they arrived, the twins, Beldin, Polgara, Geral, even the spirit of Aldur graced our meeting.

I filled them in on the current situation, and then, crossing my arms, asked for ideas, since I didn't have any.

Aldur stroked his beard. "Thou hast best do as instructed, lest thou allow the Dark to gain an advantage."

"I figured as much," I admitted, "but to hear it from you, master, is reassuring."

"So we just fly over to Mallorea, face two gods and their disciples, not to mention their armies, and just hope for the best?" Beldin asked.

"That would seem . . ."

". . . To sum it up."

"Shut up, you two," the dwarf growled.

The twins grinned boyishly.

Aldur shook his head. "Thou must learn to have more faith."

"In what, Fate?" Beldin demanded. "With all due respect, master, you of all people should know about my belief, or lack thereof, in things like Destiny. It is for fools who are willing to let others write their life for them."

"Calm yourself, Beldin." Aldur said soothingly. "What I meant was to have more faith in yourselves, that thou hast the power to write thine own destinies, the choices lie in thine hands." He leaned in close, "Personally, I don't put much stock in Destiny either."

I rubbed my hands together. "Then we are agreed? We all know what we must do?" The heads of those present nodded in response. "Then let us prepare for this EVENT."

We spent the next two days preparing our minds for the coming EVENT. Beldin and I drank heavily. The twins left to prepare the peoples of the west for the worst. Polgara and Geral spent the time fasting and in silent communion with each other, neither speaking a word for hours at a time.

Finally, it was time.

The four of us morphed into eagles and hawks and flew east. We saw the Murgos, Thulls, and Nadraks preparing for Torak's return to the west; sacrifices were being offered, armies prepped, and fear could be smelt on the hot summer air.

Polgara

As we reached the coast, my father ordered a rest period before me attempted to cross the sea dividing the world. We were close, and as I gazed out across the sea, I could almost feel Torak's gaze in this direction, could almost feel his hands on me again. Shuddering from the memories, I remained in the form of an owl, more comfortable in this form than that of my human form.

Geral, bless him, noticed that I had not changed form, and he came over and sat beside the tree I rested on.

"I don't know if this is going to help you, Aunt Pol," he started, unsure of his words, "but if you'd like, I'll talk to you . . . I mean, if it'll make you feel better." He looked up at me, and I nodded my head, softly hooing.

"Alright," and so he began to simply talk to me, telling me about his dreams and fears, more than he ever did before. He talked about how he always wished he could be king, so that he could make a difference in the world. As a king, he could help people, protect them from the Angaraks and Torak and from evil Men. He talked about how he would write fair laws that would make the commoners better off and that would protect them from being cheated and abused.

His naivety reminded me of Riva and my sister, Beldaran, dear, dear sister Beldaran. I started to drift down memory lane when Geral said something that shocked me.

"I don't hate him, you know."

My eyes widened and I turned back to look at Geral. "Torak, I mean. I don't hate him. I mean, I don't like that me was ultimately responsible for my family's deaths, but I don't hate him for it." He turned his face to the darkening sky, his blue eyes gleaming in the light of the stars that gradually came into view. "I actually feel sorry for him. I think, well, I think that he does what he does because he is feared and not loved, because he is afraid of losing what he has. He lost so much, he lost a family, he nearly lost his people, he lost the Orb, and he lost you. I think he is now very afraid of losing his place in this universe, of dying, of fading from this world, much like the stars do as the sun rises.

"So I empathize with him, because I too have lost so much, and I am afraid for my life, and so . . . I don't hate him."

He turned to look at me, and started, because I was now in human form and sitting next to him. My eyes were full of tears, and with a low cry I embraced him. He froze, confused by my reaction.

"That is so mature of you, Geral." I told him through my tears, "I am so proud of you."

Men, you should've taken notes. When someone hurts you, try to see it from their perspective first before bashing their faces in.

Belgarath

Though my back was to them, I was only pretending to sleep, and so I heard every word. I was rather proud of Geral too, but I was a little worried Geral wouldn't fight Torak now. As I lay there, I hoped that that little speech of his didn't get to his good sense. He needed to be able to fight tomorrow if we were to have a chance at winning.

Finally I slept, but my dreams were filled with fire and darkness.

When we woke, we changed back into sea hawks and flew across the ocean. For hours we saw nothing, till finally we reached the Mallorean coastline. And there was the iron fleet of Torak, filling with Angaraks armed to the teeth.

Staying together, we searched the coast for any signs of Torak and his Demigod son. Finally we found them, in the same mobile tower the Dragon God hid in during the Battle of Vo Mimbre.

Being the great, foolhardy, courageous man that I was, I decided to land right in front of the iron tower and morph into my true form. The Angaraks backed away immediately, for their mothers all raised them to fear me, and rightfully so. The others landed behind me and changed into their proper forms as well, Geral wielding the sword of his ancestors, I with a staff, but Polgara and Beldin brought nothing.

I looked up at the imposing structure, and I howled my challenge to the maimed God. "Torak, thou hast much to answer for! Come forth, and let our almighty quarrel end here and now!"

At first nothing happened, but then the great doors opened and two Gods left the tower, Torak, still in his armor, and Zarokal, wearing armor similar to his father's and wielding a black sword. Torak carried the glowing box that contained the Orb of my master, and I eyed it nervously, for it glowed red. I wondered if the confident smirk on Torak's face was caused by the fact that maybe he had mastered the Orb.

Torak's disciples filed out behind their Gods, and they stood behind Torak, all wearing the same blank expression. Except Urvon, who cowered at the sight of Beldin, who in turn cast an illusion of a white hot hook to appear in his hand. Urvon whimpered.

Torak shoved forward his son, so that he stumbled forward. He stood tall, as tall as Torak, and he spoke. "As the Child of Dark, I challenge thee Geral, Child of Light, to a fight to the death. The winner will receive the Orb of Aldur and mastery of this world."

"I don't want the world, Zarokal," Geral said emotionlessly, "I want my birthright." And with that, he charged Zarokal.

Torak . . .

An hour later . . .

I became nervous as the duel lengthened. Neither opponent had landed a blow on the other, nor did I sense the presence of the Child of Light. I searched with my powers to both combatants, and I felt a strange yet familiar presence in the confines of my son's mind.

POLGARA!

I looked hard at my bride, and I saw her staring intently at our child. I knew she must be guiding his actions in some way. I knew not what to think of that.

Belgarath

I really began to worry, as the eclipse drew nearer, any minute the moon would move in front of the sun, and I still didn't know who the Child of Light was. I forced myself not to bite my nails as I watched the two warriors hack at each other's swords and shields, but neither making a dent.

I found myself observing the son of Polgara. I had not seen him before this point, and so I looked for a resemblance between the mother and child. I saw the skin color, the hair, and the ears, but the rest was Angarak.

A shadow began to cover the coast as the moon moved in front of the sun, and the Children of Light and Dark would have to make their choices.

Zarokal

It wasn't like fighting my father as I tried my best to slay my foe. Geral was fast and sure, while my father used his strength and bulk to hammer his foes into the earth. My mother guided my actions, not to harm Geral, but to deflect his attacks. I tried to conserve my energy, as it was fading.

As the sun was eclipsed, I felt something enter my mind, but it was not my mother.

"Hello, Child of Light."

"Who are you?"

"A friend. Now, I need you to attack your father."

"WHAT? How? I can't fight him!"

"Now, when did I say you had to fight him? I just need you to destroy that box and hold Torak off till Geral can get the Orb. That is, if you don't want your father to win."

I thought about it, did I want my father to win? I hated him. If anything, I wanted to see him lose.

I spun around and, with a horizontal strike, blasted the box that contained the Orb that my father loved more than he did my mother and me. The stone flew through the air, caught in the blade's path, towards Geral. He saw it, and running for it, caught it with one hand.

Torak stood in shock, unable to comprehend what had just happened. Finally, he looked at Geral with the Orb and screamed, "ATTACK! ATTACK, MY PEOPLE! KILL THEM ALL!"

I faced my father, and I smiled coldly. "Now you lose, oh Maimed God of Angarak."

"NEVER! I AM TORAK, KING OF KINGS AND LORD OF LORDS! I CAN NOT BE DEFEATED!" and with that he charged me.

Geral

As I finally held the jewel that was the cause of all this from the beginning, I felt the stone's jubilation as its consciousness joined with mine, filling my mind with its song.

But then Belgarath shouted something at me, and as I looked up I saw a Murgo chop at my head with an axe. I instinctively held up the Orb to stop the attack, and the Murgo vanished in a flash of fire.

Suddenly, the Prophecy entered my mind, it was nice enough to introduce itself to me, and it told me to join the Orb with my sword. I did so, and the blade caught fire, a blue flame that made the charging Angaraks pause. I looked at the evil race, and I smiled.

"Who's first?"

Torak

I dueled mine perfidious child with a wrath that mere mortal Men could not comprehend. I hacked without regard to defense at Zarokal, wanting to cause Zarokal as much as I possibly could. But I felt myself limited, as if something was evening out the odds. I realized that I could only fight as hard as Zarokal could.

Then it dawned on me. I was again the Child of Dark, and mine son was the Child of Light! Indeed, his eyes turned blue before mine own red ones. As his eyes changed, I saw my beloved Polgara in his face, and I stopped in my attack, lowering mine blade.

Zarokal

As my father lowered his weapon, I snarled like an animal and I plunged my sword into his face. He made not a sound, only tears fell from his mask's eye holes. He stumbled back, sliding from my sword, and he fell to the earth with a thunderous CLASH, his armor rattling.

The Angaraks and the disciples all saw this and a great cry rose to the heavens. Zedar, a frantic look in his eyes, took the form of a vulture, flew for his master, picked up his body, and flew eastward, followed closely by Ctuchik and Urvon, who were both ravens. The Angaraks fled in all directions, some even into the sea, chased by Belgarath, Geral, Beldin, and my mother. Soon, the beach was barren save for us five.

The disciples of Aldur came to me, and I drove my blade into the earth. I faced them, crossing my arms. "It is finished," the voice inside of me said through my lips.

Belgarath

Back in the Vale . . .

I studied Zarokal and Polgara as the two embraced each other fiercely. I still couldn't understand how an Angarak Demigod could have been the Child of Light, but stranger things have happened, so I learned to accept it.

Beldin had followed Zedar and saw that the Apostate had flown Torak's miserable carcass to Cthol Mishrak, and there the three disciples of the Dragon God placed the comatose God in a tomb, and there they were willing to wait for their God to return to them. I say to them, don't hold your breath.

The Orb and Geral had reunited the Rivans and the peoples of the west now recognized the Heir of Riva as the Overlord of the West and Godslayer. I know, Torak wasn't dead, and it was Zarokal that struck him down, but we wanted the Alorns to accept something they could handle. Geral united the peoples of the west against the Angaraks and he led them into an era of peace and prosperity. He ruled from Sendaria, reclaiming Pol's old throne as the Duke of Erat.

Zarokal, however, would fade into history, even though he was going to live forever, like us. Beldin and the twins were willing to let him stay with us, but the Demigod wanted to find his own way, and so he was going to leave and wander the world in search of a place of his own. Pol was heartbroken, of course, but every child has to leave sometime.

Zarokal said his last goodbyes and left the tower with only a sword and a pack of a few belongings. He didn't need much, as he was half a God.

As he faded into the distance, I had a feeling we would cross paths again.

Alright, its finally finished! Tell me what you think! Also, if I get over ten votes wanting Zarokal to return, then that's an option I'm open to.