Chapter 35

Fade To Black

The discussions hadn't taken as long as he thought they may. Nuala had found all of Nuada's preparations for their father's tomb to be everything she could have wished for herself. All that was left to do was to finalize a day and time for Balor's remains to be transported back to Bethmoora where he could finally be laid to rest. With the help of Ecris and the relevant Court dignitaries, the arrangements had been made. And it was now the time of the dark moon...the time that all had decided would be right for such a ceremony to be held.

Ecris was back in the Council Chamber where Balor's body still sat. He was here with Naeva, of course. Together, they would help transport him home. They were just waiting for a few others to arrive.

It had been decided that Balor would be placed inside the sarcophagus, which had already been brought for the purpose, then taken to the main portal of Bethmoora. From there he would be carried through the palace in procession so that everyone could pay their last respects as he passed by, until at last he was laid in his own tomb beside that of his beloved wife Adsula.

But first, two others had to see him before he was interred.

At the main entrance to the palace Nuada stood looking out over a rather dull and dismal scene, the longer grasses being buffeted by intermittent gusts of a chilly coastal wind as dark grey clouds scudded across an only slightly lighter grey sky. Winter was steadily setting in and it seemed to suit Nuada's bleak mood perfectly as he waited for his sister to arrive. At this hour of the early morning it would be cold anyway, but the chill Nuada could feel was inside him rather than out.

They were to travel together to the Council Chamber in Brooklyn that now stood empty apart from their father's body, the two Mages and the handful of guards that still remained alive after Nuada's last appearance there. They were the lucky ones, resting in their beds after the changeover in guard duty earlier that evening. It had been decided to leave these few here to watch over Balor's remains until the proper arrangements were made, partly because it was their traditionally prescribed duty to perform this task, but also to prevent any possible ill-feeling for Nuada spilling out into an open confrontation within Bethmoora's walls. Not something that would be conducive to the peaceful settlement of the population. Once Balor was laid to rest, Nuada was going to give them the opportunity to decide whether or not to continue in their duty as Royal Guards, or to step down. He did, of course, hope that they would be pursuaded by Nuala to remain and possibly help to train others in the use of weaponry...but he was doubtful they would wish to do either. He knew it would take more than a few words to convince them of how much he had changed since he fell to darkness.

Another icy gust of wind caught Nuada's hair, causing it to lash across his face like long, pale whips but he was hardly even aware of the gale that was building around him or the few spots of rain that were carried with it. His eyes were now closed, his dark lashes stark against his pale skin as he tried to calm himself, that feeling of being close to full-blown panic just starting to rise in him again, his heart beginning to beat faster and his breathing becoming more laboured as the seconds passed. Over and over again he had been plagued by these episodes during the past few days and it was becoming harder to keep them from the notice of those around him. He swallowed hard and took a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, then exhaled slowly, willing his heart to slow down too.

He had managed to calm himself sufficiently to appear to be simply deep in thought as Nuala came up quietly behind him. He opened his eyes and looked up as she approached. She was dressed in the formal black and crimson colours that she had worn on the fateful night when Nuada had come to the Court, matching his own clothing perfectly. Before their link was severed they would often dress in very similar colours, probably some kind of unconscious prompt from one to the other that day, but today their matching attire was purely by design. They wanted to show a completely united front on this day of all days, a statement to everyone who saw them that they were working together as a single unit to show their respects to their father.

Nuala tried to smile but it just didn't work and Nuada's heart sank just a little further at seeing the sorrow etched on his sister's face. 'Are you ready, Brother?' she asked, her voice subdued and heavy with sadness. 'I am,' he replied, trying to sound more ready than he really was. Nuala took a step past him and looked out across the landscape with a sorrowful gaze and he reached out to take her hand, but just before his fingers reached hers his own hand began to shake and he clenched it into a tight fist, closing his eyes again with an exasperated gasp. He was annoyed at himself. This kept on happening and he was beginning to hate the way his body and mind seemed to be conspiring against him lately. Nuala looked round to see what was the matter but he just opened his eyes and pretended he was alright, yet again.

With a nod from Nuala they walked up the hill a little way until they could see the sea which was coming in large, rolling waves topped by white seafoam, the pending storm front moving in rapidly now. Nuada held out his hand and Nuala took it with another silent nod and they both closed their eyes, focusing on their destination...

It was another suitably rainy night and the twins materialized in the midst of a heavy downpour...but Nuada didn't care. He hardly even noticed. All he focused on was the derelict building in front of him...and the deep dread he felt in his heart at the prospect of entering it once more. He took a sudden deep, shuddering breath. He hadn't even realized he had stopped breathing. He didn't even feel it as his sister's hand slipped from his grasp so that she could move her hair away from her face, it having obscured her vision somewhat after being blown around in the gale they had just left behind them. She turned round...and her heart ached at the sight of him. He had never looked so pale and drawn as he did at that moment. She was fighting her own internal battle against a myriad of emotions, but her concern for her brother was uppermost in her mind.

He had hardly eaten or slept at all since the discussions were concluded. Every quiet moment he would find himself re-living that day...the day he killed his father. Every night he would fall asleep, completely exhausted, but would wake up with a start, crying out, covered in sweat and shaking, having been plagued by the darkest dreams, seeing Balor's face before him...and feeling the sword in his hand slicing through his flesh... The dread he felt at having to face this day had been eating at his soul, leaving him feeling like nothing more than an empty shell.

She reached out to him and took his hand again, which was now clenched into a tight fist...and trembling. 'Nuada,' she said gently. He blinked a few times before he responded, finally turning to look at her, his eyes the palest gold. 'Come, brother...' She pried his hand open enough for her to hold it properly and gently led him inside.

They descended the steps at the entrance and were about to walk up those which led to the chamber itself when Nuada suddenly stopped, making Nuala turn to him. 'I cannot...do this...' he rasped as he stared at the doorway. He looked at her almost pleadingly, '...Please don't make me do this...' he whispered, his heart pounding. He felt sick to his stomach. Never in his life had he ever felt this way before... 'Nuada...you must...' said Nuala gently but determinedly. 'If you do not...you will never be able to put it behind you...' She knew she was right. If he didn't lay this to rest now, it would haunt him forever, the weight of it becoming worse and worse until he could bear it no more. With that she pulled his hand and made him start walking again, one step at a time, until they finally entered the antechamber. Slowly she led him round until they turned the corner.

Before them lay the Council Chamber...and at the far end...Balor...their father. On either side of him stood Ecris and Naeva and further to the side stood the Chamberlain and other nobles, who had left only a short while before them, all turning to face the siblings as they entered. Also in the chamber were the Butcher Guards. They stood to either side of the dais and watched with cold eyes as the Prince came into view. Nuala felt her brother's hand clench once more and had to let go. She was about to take his hand again but before she could he began to walk, very slowly towards the dais on which stood the throne. She kept pace beside him, not looking at where she was going but watching his every move. He seemed almost unsteady on his feet now as he walked.

As they neared the dais, the guards moved as one, assuming the battle stance as their comrades had that night, their swords now raised in readiness as if expecting Nuada to draw a weapon. This was just their way of making a point to him that they still had not forgiven him for what happened. But their display was pointless. He didn't even blink when they raised their weapons in defiance of his presence. Normally he would have automatically reached for the blade he usually carried at his back, but now... Nothing...

All he could see was his father. Everything and everyone else just faded away around him as he stared at Balor's body before him. He got ever closer, until he finally stood at the base of the steps to the dais itself, his heart pounding in his chest and his breathing shallow and uneven. The palm of his sword hand was tingling and slick with sweat.

Everyone watched in silence as the twins stood before the throne. Nuala's head was now bowed as she wept silently, her own grief taking precedence at last. No-one knew quite what to expect of Nuada...but all were totally unprepared for what actually happened.

He was now staring, unblinking at the sword which still impaled his father's body. Slowly, he ascended the few steps till he stood in the same place as he had on that day and raised his hand, reaching out until his fingertip only just touched the bone pommel of the sword. He suddenly pulled his hand back as if he had been bitten by a venomous beast and clenched it into a tight fist as silver tears coursed down his cheeks. He turned to gaze upon his Balor's face again...and took a deep, shuddering breath. 'Father!' he gasped in a voice filled with the deepest sorrow. Staggering back slightly, his foot neared the top step...

His heart and mind simply could not cope any longer with what he had done. He felt as if he were falling into a spiralling pool of dark water that was suffocating him, drowning him. He couldn't move...or breathe...or think.

Ecris cried out and rushed forward as Nuada's eyes rolled back and he fell to the floor at his father's feet.

Everyone else stood by in total shock as Ecris and Naeva tended him, hardly able to believe they had seen their leader display anything other than either sheer determination or sheer hatred. That is all they had ever seen of him, so seeing him like this...as someone who actually felt as much pain as they did, whose heart was obviously broken by what had happened...

The Chamberlain and courtiers looked at one another, suddenly realizing Nuada was truly filled with sorrow and remorse for what he had done. Even the Butcher Guards looked on in total shock. This was not what they had hoped for. They had hoped for a confrontation, a chance to avenge those who had fallen. But this...

For those who had not felt it before...forgiveness and compassion seemed to be the only option for them. Most of them had known their Prince right from his earliest years, just as Ecris had. This was the boy they had known, the youth who had been forced to grow up so quickly and take his place in a world of war and hatred. That was all he had ever known...

Nuala watched with wide, frightened eyes as the two Mages lifted Nuada's head and checked him over. 'It is as I feared... He hasn't simply fainted,' said Ecris, his voice filled with concern, 'This is something far deeper.'

'What can be done?' asked Nuala as she took in the worried expression on Ecris's face. 'We must get him back to Bethmoora,' he replied quickly. This is where the Guards finally made a choice. At a signal from their commander they shifted from their aggressive stance and stood down. 'We will carry him!' he said and barked curt orders to his men.

With that, Nuada was laid on a makeshift stretcher and transported home. It was decided to send word ahead so that he could be taken through one of the smaller portals and a way kept clear so that no-one would see what what happening. There was too much at stake for word to get out about Nuada's condition right now...