Chapter Ten
My Most Trusted Servant
Thick black clouds lay heavily over the Kairin capital city of Morlakai, entombing it in shadow and unnatural darkness. If the sun was shining in the skies there was no sign of its light here, blotted out by ever-present storm clouds. There was only a false pale light, glowing high in the centre of the city, a glowing ball of pale light above the palace, set there by the city's ruler like a false moon in a false sky. Evil was present, and perpetual night reigned.
Inside the throne room was a scene of devastation. Walls were broken and ruined; the great iron rafters were wrenched from position, now twisted down towards the ground; high windows no longer contained glass; the false night sky was visible through a wide whole in the ancient ceiling and debris from pillars and walls littered edges of the room, around a cleared floor space before the throne.
The sound of boots crossing the cold marble floor echoed through the throne room, a quick soft step from a messenger bringing news. He who was seated upon the royal throne lifted his eyes and smiled when he saw his most trusted servant approaching. General Arella was in her middle years, an attractive woman with keep eyes and a striking mouth and nose, framed with waves of curled black hair. She was dressed in a grey tunic today, with a red and black cloak spread around her shoulders. Atop her head was a three-pointed hat with plumes of black and red feathers. She stopped short at the throne and bowed deeply. "Your Majesty," she said humbly, keeping her eyes lowered.
"Stand tall Arella," said the Lord of Dusk from his throne, "I know you are loyal to me." Arella straightened, with another respectful nod. Following this the Lord of Dusk stood up and descended the six steps to the marble floor tiles. He was still a full head taller than Arella, and as she looked up at him her eyes were full of fervour.
"Always, Your Majesty," she said.
Arella's devotion had not wavered since the day she had first learned the truth of who this man was. She was the first Kairin person to follow him, and remained his most loyal subject. She had helped him to raise an army and take the throne of Kairin. He owed much to this woman, for without her he would not now be wearing the Crown of Dusk.
"You have news." he said, with firm directness. It was not a question.
Arella bowed her head, "Yes Master," she said apologetically, "with deep regret."
What news could she bring to him with regret? He knew that his primary plans within the city of Morlakai were moving unhindered, so whatever news she had would be something of lesser significance to him.
"Master, please forgive me," she said as humbly as her voice would allow. "The strongholds of Baradale, Pergondale and Andred were besieged by Hylian forces, and have been reclaimed by Hyrule... Hylians throughout the Hyrule Southlands are chasing our soldiers from their towns. "
The Lord of Dusk stood in silence for a moment, then asked "When did this happen?"
"Just under two weeks ago," she said, "the first report reached the city less than an hour ago."
The Lord of Dusk breathed deeply, and gently caressed the hilt of his sword. "Regrettable indeed," he said, "but I care not."
"Your Majesty?" stared Arella, perhaps wondering if he had fully grasped what she was saying.
"Let them have their fun," the man said, "they will die soon enough."
Arella looked uneasy. "Master..." said Arella, clearly fearful of provoking his famous anger, "should I not give the order to retreat to Kaira for now? What of our ships docked there?"
The Lord of Dusk laughed to himself darkly. "Have faith, my dear." His lips curled into a cruel smile. "What other news?"
Arella shifted uncomfortably. "You have a visitor," she said uncertainly, "and a prisoner."
The Lord of Dusk smiled. "Yes, I know..." he said, "send them in."
Arella bowed and wandered away across the throne room, disappearing into the dim gloom. She returned moments later with two men following behind her, whom could not have looked more dissimilar to each other.
The first was robed in black, cloaked and hooded. He moved like a shadow, smoothly and silently, and did not reveal his face. This man was proudly holding the chains of shackles attached to the arms, legs and neck of the second man, though that other did not seem encumbered by his crude restraints. This second man was young and remarkably beautiful, with flowing white hair and flowing white robes. He walked beside his captor calmly, as though his incarceration was of no consequence to him.
Arella stepped aside, offering no introductions. The Lord of Dusk disregarded the first man, but stared with mixed satisfaction and contempt at the beautiful young man. "Illivartan," he said at length, "welcome back." The Lord of dusk waved a finger and the young man's chains fell apart, shattering into thousands of tiny pieces and sprinkling down upon the floor in a shower of metal shards. "Bow before me," he said.
Daran al'Larban merely looked at Ralis al'Resh serenely, a slight smile playing upon his lips. The grin on Ralis' face immediately disappeared.
"Bow before me," demanded Ralis, "or else show me your true power! But do not stand there in defeat as though the victory is yours."
Daran grinned, hidden knowledge sparkling in his eyes. "You have not changed, ra'Alis."
Ralis stepped towards Daran and stood eye to eye with him, "I have changed more than you could dare to dream," he whispered menacingly.
Daran did not flinch. "I can feel your power, ra'Alis." He shut his eyes, concentrating. "Your suffering has made you strong, and your lust for vengeance has fixed your resolve." Daran opened his eyes and sighed thoughtfully. "But your heart has not changed."
Ralis glared lividly at Daran, breathing deeply as he slowly clenched and unclenched his fists. "You don't know my heart," he said.
Ralis turned his attention to the man in black robes, who had been standing quietly to one side. "You have done well," he said, "come here." The man in black robes stepped towards Ralis obediently, keeping his head low. In a swift motion Ralis lurched forwards, grabbing hold of the man's tunic and tearing it apart.
Arella gasped in shock at what lay underneath, but Daran looked on indifferently. A smooth black spike was protruding from the man's chest, embedded in his heart, and beating in time with it. The man's chest was swollen with clotted purple blood around the black stone. For a moment, there was a glimpse of a pale deathly face beneath the hood.
"Consider yourself released from service," Ralis said. He grasped the black spike and wrenched it from the man's chest violently. The man dropped dead instantly, collapsing before them and hitting the marble floor with a dull thud.
Ralis looked at the stone contentedly, and wiped away black blood from it almost affectionately, as though he cared much more for it than the life he had just ended. After a few moments he tucked the stone into his pocket and turned his attention back to Daran. "Remarkable," he said coldly.
Daran's serene expression was replaced with one of unease. "Such disregard for life..."
Ralis glared at Daran. "Life was taken from me," he said harshly, "and now I take it from others."
"You would use the Dusk Stones so soon?" he asked warily. "You have become more desperate than I thought."
"You have no idea." Ralis turned his back on Daran and paced away from him, falling into a steady stroll around the room. "Is he still alive?" Ralis asked, not needing to say whom he was referring to.
"Of course," said Daran, calmly, "or you would not need to ask me."
Ralis continued to make a circle around his hall, gazing up into the sky above. "You took him away from me," Ralis said accusingly, "I was about to kill him."
"Yes," said Daran, "you were."
"You interfered!" bellowed Ralis rounding on Daran and pointing an accusatory finger. "Why!"
Daran blinked, and offered a simple answer. "He was not ready, and neither were you."
Ralis laughed in disbelief. "Look at this place!" he gestured his arms around him at the destroyed throne room. "Look what we did to it!"
Daran looked around, distinctly unimpressed. "This is nothing," he said. "Last time you fought, you levelled mountains and emptied oceans."
Ralis was quiet for a moment, a glimmer of wonder shining in his eyes, but this was fleeting. He quickly returned to anger. "I thought you were supposed to be impartial," he said. "You are a herald and a messenger, and you should not favour either the Dawn or the Dusk, yet you have always taken his side, Illivartan."
"I am impartial," said Daran. "What do the affairs of mortals matter to me? I am a guardian of dreams."
"Then why did you rescue him?" Ralis asked loudly, beginning his pacing again. "Why do you only guide him? Why is it his blood that triggered your awakening?"
Daran shook his head in clear disappointment. "Still you know nothing. Your blood would have sufficed in his place, to the same effect. And, you have managed to achieve enough without my help. You remain far stronger than he is, and until your strengths are equally matched I am obliged to do all I can to keep you apart."
Ralis stopped again, and looked at the Illivartan differently now, as though weighing options in his mind. He did not know how far he could trust him, but that would not matter anymore. "Then I cannot have you interfering," said Ralis, "you are a nuisance. That is why I have captured you." Ralis came closer to Daran, studying him carefully. "I told Rael that I believe you are a god," he said, "perhaps the only god. I also believed that killing you would end the Halisarin Cycle. But now I am not so sure. You are weaker than I suspected."
"I am a messenger," said Daran flatly, "nothing more."
"Indeed," said Ralis, "killing you might not achieve much... butthen what do I stand to lose by trying?"
For the first time, Daran laughed. He laughed with wholehearted contempt at Ralis. "You cannot kill me!" He relaxed himself and shook his head slowly. "Don't you know what I am?"
Ralis paused for a moment, his choice wavering. "You were a good lad once Daran," he said, "or so I thought. Have you always been what you are now?" Daran stared back at him passively. "Whatever remains of your old self, I counted you as a friend... for what it is worth."
Ralis paused again for a moment, the seconds passing heavily. Then with a quick motion, Ralis withdrew his blade from its scabbard. He drew his arm back, aimed the cold steel, and thrust it directly into Daran's heart. The blade punctured human flesh, slid between bones, tore open muscle and emerged through the young man's back dripping with blood. A sharp breath left Daran's mouth as he strained for air.
A tremor passed through Daran's body, and then a brilliant white light erupted from the wound in his chest. Radiant light engulfed the room and Ralis was forced to shield his eyes, letting go of his blade. There was a thunderous bang that shook the foundations of the palace. Then... all was silent.
Ralis uncovered his eyes, slowly. Victory washed over him as he looked down upon the body before him. A blade stuck firmly through his torso, blood spilling out upon the tiles. His eyes had rolled back in his head, glazed and lifeless.
Daran al'Larban was dead.
"He's dead," said Ralis, with certainty, "He's dead!" He laughed to himself, pouring out contempt over the dead man before him. "Aha!! He's dead!"
He rounded on Arella triumphantly. "Nothing can stop us now! The others will fall one by one and then..." he raised his arms up to the skies, drawing upon all his magic. Lightning flashed in the sky and thunder boomed. He pointed a finger at Daran's body and unleashed his fury. Blue-white electricity burst from his hand and engulfed the corpse, and burnt it with intense power. The body disintegrated before them until nothing was left but charred remains. Ralis laughed maniacally. "Then the Lord of Dawn will die!!"
Arella watched the Lord of Dusk with peaceful eyes as he lost himself in self-indulgent hatred. "And... what now, Your Majesty?" she asked him softly.
Ralis snapped his neck around to look at her. He laughed again then reached up to his head. Carefully he removed the Crown of Dusk from his head, and held it in his hands. The crown was a band of beautiful gold, the heirloom of his ancestors. He looked at it proudly, feeling its majestic history. Usually, the crown was ornamented with seven onyx stones, smooth and ornately carved. But not now. Only one stone was set in the crown now, and there were six hollow spaces around the edge where six other stones were absent. One of those absent stones had just returned to him and lay nestled in his pocket – dormant until all the stones came together again.
Ralis removed the seventh Dusk Stone from the Crown of Dusk and held it up before his eyes in the gloom. "One Stone has returned successfully, one Stone has been defeated, four Stones still pursue their targets, and last Stone remains unused..." Arella shifted uncomfortably, looking at the seventh Dusk Stone with grave concern. "The final stone... for the final task... for my most trusted servant... now that nothing stands in its way..."
Ralis looked at Arella. "Who can bear this stone? I trust this task to the person I trust most in the entire world... Someone who will never fail me..."
Nervously Arella asked him, "And who... is that... Master?" fearing she already knew the answer.
Ralis laughed darkly, gripping the stone tightly in his hand. He threw back his head and his laughter boomed in the hallway, carrying far outside the throne room and across the city. A storm broke upon Morlakai, lightning flashed again and again, and thunder resounded from the sky to the earth. The Lord of Dusk revelled in chaos and evil, and the darkness of his heart was confirmed most absolute.
