Wow, this certainly came out much quicker than I anticipated. Thanks for the reviews and enjoy. Also, this is the last chapter before the actions starts. The story ends with the war so we're almost there! Anyway, enjoy!
...
Chapter 34
...
{Enochian Prophecies}
...
Sasha could see nothing. Blind, panicked and scared, he spun on his heel trying to make something out of the utter darkness. It had swallowed him some time ago and though Sasha couldn't be sure of the exact length, it felt like forever. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't remember not being there.
These shadows were ageless, living in a time before life began and somehow they had found and subdued him.
"Hello?" He called out into the shadows but the sound was swallowed up and he choked on his own voice.
He tried again. "Is anybody there?"
Still no answer, no sound, just silence and darkness and a sense of utter lonliness.
"Help me." He said, though the words were lost once again.
Sinking down to his knees, Sasha felt the steady thrum of the power coming from everywhere around him. This blackness was alive, not merely a state but a sentient being, oppressing and conquering.
He wanted to run, hide, fight, scream or shout but his limbs felt heavy, his mind numb, his voice silenced. So he sat and waited.
And soon, his submission was rewarded.
A warmth entered a breeze that had not previously existed. It brushed his hair away from his eyes. Then, he felt a presence, gentle as the morning dew, and a hand rubbing his cheek. He looked up, but could not see.
"Hush. You are safe." A voice said. Beautiful and sweet, lyrical in its cadence, but speaking with so much power behind it and so many voices brought together to combine as one. It was peaceful, comforting, natural.
And Sasha knew who it was.
"Nature." He said, his voice a whisper but now solid with the presence of his goddess.
"Our Scion." She said, a voice of many voices.
Nature, being the master of so many things, did not consider herself a single entity but an amalgamation of countless, a divine consciousness ruling over billions. Her speech reflected that. She was many, she was all, she was Nature.
"Our precious Scion, our servant, our survivor. We have watched you. You are strong, you are worthy of us. Worthy of our trust. We trust in you, Scion. But you will need our help; the battle tomorrow will be fierce, desperate. We now need your undistracted loyalty."
"You have it."
"You will do what we require tomorrow. How we command and when we command it."
"Of course, but Voldemort is my master too. I have duties to him as well."
The hand left his face and the gentle presence disappeared, instead, a harsher, sterner one appeared in its place. Nature's mood shifted as quick as the winds.
Sasha jumped at the change and before the goddess could voice her displeasure he said. "I'll do both. I can serve you and him."
Nature was not appeased. "The human is irrelevant. We are your one true master. The human was a toy, allowed by us to teach you how to serve."
Sasha scowled. "If you wanted a loyal servant, why abandon me in the first place? You left me alone. I had to fend for myself. Of course I was going to find someone else. Of course I was going to offer my loyalty; that's what I'm built for, that's how you made me, that's all I have to give."
It was said with an anger Sasha did not know he possessed. It surprised him and he wondered how long had it been simmering away in his subconscious?
"...You needed to grow away from us." Nature said as her only defence. Her voice was weary, saddened.
"Why?"
The curtness returned. "We do not answer your questions. You respond to our orders, that is all."
"I won't abandon Voldemort." Sasha said, stubborn now that Nature was being stern.
"If you do not heed us, you will fall."
Sasha paused. "Is that a threat?"
"A prophecy."
"I have to protect Voldemort."
"If you ignore us, he too will die. All will die. There can be no life if Chaos is allowed to reign once more."
"What do you want me to do?"
"No questions." Nature said. "We will show you when the time comes."
Sasha thought about that. Would Nature's orders conflict with Voldemort's? He didn't want to disobey the Dark Lord but what choice did he have? He promised his service to Voldemort and if following Nature helped, even if it was against the plan, then how could he not?
"Then you'll have my complete and unwavering loyalty, as you always have."
Nature presence gave off a pleased vibe. "Good. Though we have not had your loyalty as completely as you seem to think. But do not worry, Scion, we will give you the chance to prove yourself tomorrow. You will give us all."
Sasha stiffened. "What does that mean?"
"Do not fret, the wheels are in motion, you need only let it happen."
Then, Nature was gone and the ground shook and the darkness only got darker and Sasha awoke.
...
{Enochian Prophecies}
...
Sasha sat up trying to catch his breath.
"You fell asleep."
He turned to see Voldemort in a chair across the room, reading a book of parseltongue.
"Sorry," Sasha mumbled, shifting in his own chair, "must have been the heat from the fire."
"Indeed." Voldemort said, eyes flickering up over the pages and then back down, already bored with the conversation.
Sasha didn't try for more and instead mused on the very lucid dream he had just had. Only, Sasha knew it wasn't a dream and couldn't have been. It was Nature contacting him in the most outright way she ever had. It must have been important if she needed to meet him face to face—not that he could see anything anyway.
He glanced over at Voldemort.
Nature had said if Sasha didn't listen to her, the Dark Lord would die. Sasha couldn't have that. He would protect his master in any way he could. But he was worried about how far he might have to go. Nature's meeting left him with an uneasy feeling deep in his chest. Nature could communicate with him through thoughts, emotions and impressions, why then, did she speak to him, in human tongue?
And why did she need a verbal assurance of his loyalty? She said she had prophesised the downfall of Balance and Sasha didn't doubt that, but what awaited him tomorrow that she was so worried about? What decision was she so afraid he would not make?
"You will give us all."
Sasha wondered, and feared, and couldn't shake the feeling that tomorrow was going to be the darkest of days.
One that he would not survive.
He looked into the fire sadly, thoughtful about the possibility of this being his last night. Would Nature really do that to him? He wouldn't have thought so before but with the threat of Chaos looming so darkly, Sasha couldn't find any convincing evidence.
"You're thinking too hard."
Sasha sighed. "Maybe you're right."
"What troubles you?"
"A year ago, I was sitting in the great hall of Hogwarts, sipping hot chocolate. A year ago I was a school child, looking for refuge from a bitter life of being on the run. A year ago, everything had seemed so much bigger. The plans you had so painstakingly concocted seemed so vast and slow-paced I could barely believe they would come to fruition. But that was a year ago. Things are different now. We stand on the edge of victory. A lot had happened in the past year."
Voldemort frowned, put down his book and carefully asked, "What has this got to do with anything?"
"Nothing, it's just I can barely believe this time last year I was trying to find out what I was. Now I know I feel the intense weight of ignorance lifted from my shoulders. I'm more focused now; better able to concentrate on what matters... on what's important."
"That is good, is it not?"
Sasha gave a distracted, "Hmm."
They fell back into silence. Voldemort picked up his book and began reading once more. Sasha continued to stare into the fire, brooding, worrying, and trying to figure out what he was missing.
"Are you nervous for tomorrow?" Voldemort spoke again.
It was the eve of the final battle. Tomorrow it was either the end of the Light's reign and the beginning of the Dark's –or the other way around—and Sasha honestly couldn't say which.
Shaking his head, Sasha said, "Tomorrow is necessary."
"That doesn't answer my question." Voldemort replied, putting his book back down.
No. It didn't. Sasha had purposely made sure that his reply was evasive. The reason being he didn't want Voldemort to know how he felt. He had to keep it a secret.
Therefore, it came as a surprise when he confessed. "I'm worried." The mere utterance was all it took for Voldemort to straighten.
"Tell me." He commanded.
"Nature assures me that it will be alright." A lie.
"But?" Voldemort coaxed.
"I don't know. There's nothing in particular. The plan's solid, the soldiers are trustworthy and I have every faith in them but... I'm worried." Sasha said with a shrug.
"What's the worst that could happen?"
Sasha shook his head. "Anything that goes right can go wrong."
Voldemort hummed thoughtfully. "You said there was a plan."
"There is. The Shira have agreed to fight against Galor and that's more than I could have asked for." Sasha sighed.
"There has to be a reason for your concern. Things do not happen without reason. It is illogical."
Sasha gave a weak smile. "That's me alright. Don't worry about it. It's like you said; I'm being... illogical."
He wasn't. Not exactly. He didn't want to say that he felt a certain impatience in Nature's presence. In that dark place, where Nature had so much control over him, Sasha had felt it only briefly, vaguely, but he was hyperaware of it now. Fear. Nature stunk of fear. And Sasha was acutely aware that he was vulnerable to her will.
"Do not fret, the wheels are in motion, you need only let it happen."
So far, Nature's plans had happened to coincide with Voldemort's. What happened if they, at this late stage, diverged from each other? What then? It didn't make sense for Nature to prepare for tomorrow's battle with the end goal being the defeat of Dumbledore.
Something else was happening behind what Sasha could see and he wasn't able to quite figure out. It gave him a feeling of powerlessness that he hadn't experienced in a great many years.
...the wheels are in motion...
But he couldn't tell Voldemort that. No. He couldn't. This wasn't the time or the place. He didn't want to worry Voldemort or make him deviate from his plans. Somehow, it would work out. He'd find a way.
Sasha looked back to his master. "It's late." He said with a faint, distracted smile. "I should get to bed. Goodnight."
He left then, without another word.
...
{Enochian Prophecies}
...
Once again, Sasha had lied that night.
The frigid air bit at his uncovered cheeks and he flipped up the collar of his coat to protect from the cold.
Sasha stepped out from behind the trees after a surreptitious glance around. There was no one in sight. Ahead of him, light pooled onto the snowy ground from a window in a small hut. A shadow passed across the window and briefly blocked the glow. Eyes narrowing, Sasha had his target in sight.
Hagrid's hut was so close to the Forbidden Forest that Sasha knew he was unlikely to be seen. Still, he didn't want to take any chances. He walked briskly towards the hut and, once in front of the door, he rapped harshly at the wooden surface.
Movement inside. The sound of a chair creaking.
"Who could that be at this hour?" A muffled voice asked a sleepy hound.
Sasha pulled out his wand as the door opened and Hagrid peered down, gawking.
"Sasha!" The half-giant said, shocked.
"It's cold out. Let's go inside."
Recovering from the initial shock, Hagrid frowned. "Now wait 'ere a minute. Why should I do tha'? Yer working fer You-Know-Who!"
Sasha didn't reply, only raised his wand higher, and grudgingly, Hagrid retreated into the hut. After a quick check to reassure himself no one was watching, Sasha stepped inside, shutting the door behind him with a trickle of magic.
Fang looked up drowsily from his position on Hagrid's bed but upon seeing Sasha, he snuffled and resumed napping.
It was warm inside, a healthy fire filled the small fireplace providing more than enough warmth. On the table was the remains of the half-giant's dinner; a few small clumps of mashed potato, the fat from around a lamb chop. Sasha took in the scene with fondness as he thought of all the times he had shared with Hagrid here and bitterness at the reminder that he would never be able to do so again.
"Come ta kill me, 'ave ya?" Hagrid asked, eyes sad and just a little afraid.
"Sit down." Sasha said, motioning towards a chair by the table. Hagrid did as he was told and Sasha sat on the edge of the half-giant's bed, mindlessly petting a content Fang as he did.
"You've been good to me, Hagrid," Sasha said, "better than I deserved, really. If I really had been that lost kid I played at, maybe I would have taken your advice and gone into the business. I would have liked that, I think; it could've been nice. It's just unfortunate that I wasn't."
"Why'd ya do it, Sasha? How could ya, after everythin'?" Hagrid asked suddenly, desperately.
Grimly, Sasha looked down. "I'm sorry; I never wanted to get you caught up in this. I wish you weren't with the Light; it would have made everything so much easier."
"Fer you."
Sasha sighed. "Yes, for me. Nonetheless, here we are and I find myself unwilling to get you involved in tomorrow's events."
Hagrid stiffened. "Merlin, you're goin' to attack Hogwarts."
Sasha didn't deny it. "Tomorrow will be the final battle. It'll mark the end of the war and the start of a new regime, whichever that may be."
Sasha cleared his throat. "So, no, Hagrid," he said, "I've not come to kill you; I've come to help you."
"Wha'?"
"You're not involved in this war, Hagrid, and it's not fair that you get caught up in it. You don't have magic, you can't protect yourself."
"I'd die fer wot's right. I won' stan' down an' let You-Know-Who kill innocent people." Hagrid said.
"I know," Sasha said, "that's why I'm here."
Sasha stood up. He walked over to the window and glanced out.
"Don't worry about your creatures; I'll make sure they'll be alright for a few days."
"Huh?"
Sasha didn't elaborate; he reached into his coat pocket and turned to face the half-giant. Slowly, he pulled out what was hidden inside.
"What's that?"
It was a large iron key on a piece of string. But it was so much more than that. "It's a portkey."
Hagrid stood up quickly. Sasha moved faster. He reached over and grabbed Hagrid, quickly apparating them away.
Upon arrival to the new area, Hagrid fell to his knees, hugely disorientated and slightly queasy. He looked pale. Sasha took a few steps away, giving the half-giant some much needed space.
"Where are we?" Hagrid asked once he started to recover. He struggled to his feet.
They were in a forest. Evergreen trees surrounded them and pine needles crunched underfoot as Sasha moved around. His breath came out in white puffs. It wasn't snowing but the sky was heavy with the promise of it.
"Far away from Hogwarts, the war and Britain itself. You'll stay here for three days then this portkey will take you back to your hut. You won't be attacked or targeted in any way on your return; you'll live out your life in peace, no matter which side wins the war."
"Ya can't really believe that."
"I do. Voldemort rewards those who serve him and I'm giving him my life. He'll do this for me... There's a small cabin about a hundred yards behind you. It's empty and fully stocked. Nothing in these forests will bother you."
"Giving yer life? Ya don' expect ta survive this do ya?" Hagrid said.
He gave a grim smile. "A feeling I can't quite shake."
"Why are ya doin' this, Sasha? You've no reason to go to all this trouble fer me."
Sasha looked away. "If I am to die, let it be with as few sins on my soul as I can manage."
He threw the portkey onto the ground in front of Hagrid's feet.
"Three days. Goodbye Hagrid."
Sasha apparated away.
...
{Enochian Prophecies}
...
He had promised to look after the creatures, so he did. He spelled enough food and water to last three days. His final task was personal.
Stepping out of the small cave in the Forbidden Forest, Sasha heard the greeting whines of the ngen. That fabulous, golden fur shimmered in the moonlight of the clearing. She was pacing, the ngen, and watching him closely with her intelligent eyes. She quivered with anticipation and both she and Sasha felt the immediacy of Kin. They were both Nature's servants and the connection was stronger than it had ever been.
Back when they had first met, Sasha hadn't known what he was. The ngen had but there hadn't been enough time to explain and Sasha hadn't understood what she was trying to show him. Now, it was just them.
Sasha stepped further into the clearing and closer to the bars of the cage. "Hello, old girl." He said.
The ngen responded with a friendly huff, coming to stand in front of him.
"It's all happening tomorrow," Sasha said, "and I think it's about time to let you out."
Her tail flicked excitedly.
Sasha looked around, examining the bars. "Nothing too difficult." He muttered.
He took out his wand and cast a quick spell at the corners of the cage. With a creak and a groan the magic dissipated and the ngen let out a growl of triumph.
She pounced out of her prison towards Sasha, jumping up onto his shoulders and letting out a deep purr as she nuzzled Sasha's neck. Saha staggered at the sheer weight of the ngen but slowly began to pet down her fur.
"Easy, old thing, this is only going to be a quick reunion."
He pushed the ngen back and she returned to the ground, sitting in front of him. She looked at him questioningly.
"There's a war coming. It's all happening tomorrow. I'm getting you out of here. Return to Nature and stay safe."
The ngen growled angrily, shifting to stand on her four paws.
"I don't need you; you'll only get in the way. I've got enough to worry about; I can't be distracted by you too."
The ngen huffed, displeased.
"Return to Nature."
The ngen slowly moved, flicking her tail as she went, she walked as if to leave through the cave, but as she did her body began to disintegrate.
First her fur shivered and changed, becoming autumnal leaves flickering away in a wind that could not possibly exist but did. They faded softly into the sky as they were plucked from her body. The ngen's muscle turned to moss which fell off in clumps until only a skeleton of ancient wood remained. With that, she began to sink into the earth; it swallowed her further with every step until nothing was left.
Sasha sighed. He would have enjoyed the company, but there was no point taking her down with him. Nature might lose one servant tomorrow; she didn't need to lose two.
...
{Enochian Prophecies}
...
The wind ruffled his hair, a gentle reminder to Sasha that Nature was there and she was attentive and he was not alone. It wasn't the comforting feeling it should have been; his heart fell. He felt as if was being guided to some point where he would have no control whatsoever.
Sasha wasn't going to kid himself; he was a puppet. Nature could use him as she liked. The same went for Voldemort. But he had never felt it more than now, in this moment.
Sasha shook his head and blinked the snow out of his eyes.
The Forbidden Forest was practically familiar ground to Sasha now. His mind easily recalled the paths he had taken towards the centaur territories a year ago. Moving quickly, he strode through the forest, avoiding trees and branches and other obstacles that occurred naturally in such places.
Once or twice, Sasha saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Occasionally, he heard the rustling of leaves or the cracking of a stick. Nothing attacked him though, nothing dared show reveal their presence.
Sasha would have liked to think it was his abundantly powerful aura that left him undisturbed but he had suspicions that it was more to do with his deep affiliation with Nature. He could practically feel creatures being warned away by the busy goddess. The meddling goddess. The plotting goddess. More was going on here than he could make out.
"You have arrived."
Sasha's head snapped up. His eyes found the form of Nessus, the centaur leader, looking as regal as any king. He had a crown of ivy resting on his brow, a heavy, dull iron breastplate covered his chest and shin guards adorned his front two legs, protecting the delicate equine appendages. Peeking out from behind his back, Sasha could see the giant longbow strapped securely between his shoulder blades and an axe peeking out from behind his waist.
This was a man ready for war.
Sasha had been arrogant to think that he could avoid conflict in these parts. He shook his head in embarrassment.
"The war is at your door step." Sasha told him, eyes travelling over the other centaurs standing there, some half hidden behind trees and shrubs. Each one of those centaurs were armed to the teeth and ready for a battle, their horse legs stamping the ground eagerly, snorting into the cold air, creating clouds of foggy mist in front of them.
"We are ready."
"I won't ask you to fight with us; I know this isn't your war."
Nessus looked down at Sasha. "We will fight." He said.
Sasha frowned. "Why?" He asked. "This is not your battle. You don't need to do this. You're putting yourself and your people in danger."
"You do not wish for our aid?"
"That's not it." Sasha denied quickly. "I'm more than eager to have you on our side. That's not what I meant at all."
Nessus huffed with some humour, enjoying the reaction of the boy. "We had not intended to get involved," he told Sasha softly, "but... you cannot tell me you have not noticed this battle is bigger than just your war."
Sasha was quiet, grimly nodding his agreement. "I know." He breathed, feeling another jolt of fear and anxiety shooting through his body.
"So we will fight," Nessus continued, "and we will help you."
"Thank you. Tomorrow, travel to the edge of the forest. You will meet some of the Death Eaters there. You may also see werewolves. Do not attack them; they're on our side. Together, with this alliance we can't lose against Dumbledore. You'll have your peace and after tomorrow, your forests will never be disturbed again. You have my word."
Sasha gave a gracious bow at the waist and turned to leave.
"There have been whispers in the forest."
Nessus' darkened voice made Sasha freeze. With his whole body tensed, he listened to the centaur speak. With all the terrible power of a Seer, Nessus speech was terrifyingly prophetic.
"The sun has darkened. Colder, these past few months. Chaos stands ready. Nature weeps. Balance flees. The woods are quiet. The creatures hiding. All moments, all instances, all leading to this. To now. Chaos is approaching. Nature is overwhelmed. Balance fears. All lives that came before lived for the purpose of setting the scene. Now is governed by the actions of the past. And all the actions of the past were built for this moment. The End draws near.
"There is no hope. No prospect of victory, of survival. But one. A hero. Born not from light but darkness. A different kind of champion. One who will bring order with his day before he transcends the physical and returns to Nature. Hark! The trumpets play. Tis the eve of Judgement Day."
Sasha listened to the prophecy, eyes trained on the empty space directly in front of his eyes. He didn't speak. Didn't move. Just stayed still and listened as the words faded and gave way to the unsettling silence of the forest.
Nessus cleared his throat, his voice returning to normal. "It is an old prophecy." He whispered. "Older than me or my grandsire. Our herd has passed down these words from generation to generation. We always knew these things would come to pass, but I never thought it would be in my—or even my children's—lifetime. However, we do not choose our roles, only act them out. Knowing you as I do, even if it is only briefly, I can see you are worthy of that prophecy."
Sasha licked his lips. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You cannot deny—"
"—Meet the others at the edge of the forest. That is all."
Sasha left then, refusing to listen to whatever Nessus had to say. He hurried away, turmoil swirling in his head and heart. He wouldn't believe the words he had just heard. He was a creature that walked outside of Fate. He had no destiny. His future was his own. Nessus was confused, that was all.
He was his own person and if he wasn't, he would make himself his own. He had dreams, ambitions, goals and he wouldn't be led astray from them. He would find a way. Somehow he would deny that prophecy. Dying wasn't an option. Not yet. He still had too much to do. He would defy that fate.
He would create a new day—with him in it.
Only, he had heard those words before from his great-grandmother's journals. And somehow, deep down, those words rang more true than anything he had ever known.
Sasha's resolve shook just a little.
...
{Enochian Prophecies}
...
Dumbledore was alone.
In the dead of night, on the eve of his final battle, the headmaster wandered around his office mindlessly picking up the trinkets he had collected and returning them mindlessly.
His body was restless, his mind running, his soul weary. He knew he should retire for the night but thoughts and emotions flashed by and kept him preoccupied. His legs were itchy, he had to walk.
Dumbledore had achieved a lot in his life, some were great and some would shame him to the day he died. Regardless, he had always maintained that he truly regretted nothing, having experienced the triumph from the good things and learning valuable lessons from the bad.
Yet tonight, this night of all nights, his mind was plagued with his failures, the worst of which being how he had handled the war.
He thought of Sasha Kamenev and how they had lost him, but more than that, he thought of what he had said.
"How does it feel, Albus? To know now that everything you've done, everything you've decided for the past twenty years have been what he wanted you to do? He convinced you to get Lily to give up her son. He convinced Lily to go along with it.
"And for what? You don't know, do you? Even now, so close to achieving his goals, he keeps you in the dark. He doesn't treat you as if you were a Light Lord does he? More like a pawn, a servant, a slave."
And how right the boy was. But Dumbledore had known it long before it had been so callously brought up. He still remembered the night that creature, Galor Palun, had come to him.
It was raining, the sound of heavy drops crashing against his office window. Dumbledore was sitting in his chair, despairing, at a loss of what to do. He held his head in his hands, trying to stave off tears for the innocents who had suffered. He had been ready to give up, give in to despair and just stop when that man had appeared out of the shadows.
"I know what you're up against." Galor Palun had said. "And I know how to help."
From that moment, Dumbledore had been damned. He had sold his soul to the devil. The man had it all planned out. Everything, every little detail and yes, Dumbledore had wondered afterwards why he had agreed to anything that came from the creature's mouth. But still he followed his orders.
He had damned Lily to a life of despair when he walked into her house and told her to give her child up, knowing all the while that Galor was standing outside the room, manipulating her, persuading her.
Lily would never understand afterwards why she had said yes and Dumbledore couldn't afford to tell her. If any of them knew he was working with a non-human they would have abandoned him and the war would have been lost. The Order needed to be strong and united; it was the only way they could ever win.
That secret, however, had eaten at his soul for the past twenty years and a hole had been created, growing bigger and bigger with each passing command given to him by that Shira.
And now, the order was in ruins. Lily was gone; James hated him and would turn Remus and Sirius against him. Even Snape had only reappeared earlier that day, his body mutilated, broken and note telling him to 'Prepare for Judgement Day'.
Dumbledore knew the moment he met the Shira that it could lead to bad things, but he hadn't wanted this. He knew he was the maker of his own circumstances and he would accept responsibility for it but the pain he had caused could never be forgiven and Dumbledore had a feeling he would never get the opportunity to repent.
He would fight tomorrow and he would win, and then, he would step down from his leadership and leave this world to the youth. Dumbledore intended on going somewhere very far away, somewhere where he could do no more harm.
But first, he would have to commit his final sin.
He would fight.
...
{Enochian Prophecies}
...
The Shira were a mysterious race.
No human knew of them, no other creature could conceive them. The Shira didn't explain their position and they didn't try. They knew a human could no more understand their purpose than a cockroach. Such a venture would be pointless and time consuming and that was a sin no Shira could bring themselves to commit.
But even though the Shira were aloof and separate from the happenings of the world around them, they shared many similarities to the other creatures of the universe. They still felt love and joy, pain and suffering, hurt and sorrow.
Betrayal and revenge.
Longevity could breed a long lasting hatred and a grudge that was ultimately as immortal as the Shira it belonged to. A powerful desire to right what had been wronged. For the Shira were, after all, obsessed with maintaining balance.
They were now acting towards the restoration of Balance.
The battle they were preparing for was bigger than just one day of struggle, a petty war between a Lord of Light and one of Dark. It was more than just the asking of a young Scion of Nature. It was duty. It was the protection and the restoration of all they had been working for since eternity began.
Galor Palun was a traitor.
He had not always been. There was a time when he had been a friend, an ally, a valued member of their society. He had been loved and cherished and respected by all. But that was then, in the past. Somehow, it had changed.
The Shira still didn't know what exactly it took for the change, that hateful tumour, to blossom in their kind; it could have been anything. They didn't know. The only thing that was clear, however, was that a wayward Shira had a twisted soul. Their very being was corrupted and damaged, their form distorted. Galor Palun would be no different.
It pained them that one of their brothers was in such pain, so far removed from his very reason for life.
They would end his pain. They would restore Balance. They would save this world.
They would kill Galor Palun.
They only hoped he did not yet realise the full power a Follower of Chaos could wield.