Chapter 15: True Power, True Love
The Witchblade flashed visions of Sara's dream. She remembered the illusion that the mirror had made in her dream and turned away from Ian's image. The real Ian was now truly charging her. Sara reacted defensively parrying his attack. Their swords clashed causing a great boom of thunder and lightning to rumble the room. He gave a mighty war cry and struck at her again. "Ian! It's me, Sara!" The Witchblade knew Ian's every move, as it met his sword's swipes. Sara couldn't believe the violence he was showing. His face was filled with a hatred that she had never seen. What had come over him? Danny's words drifted into her mind. He had told her to remember whom she could trust. She thought that she could trust Ian, but he was trying to kill her. She needed to make him see the truth, as Constance had told her. The words echoed through her mind. She tried to reach for him, hoping that her touch would make him remember, but she had to withdraw her hand when he tried to take it off with his sword. The Witchblade hissed and breathed. It spoke to Sara; deep down inside of her she knew what she must do. The thunder and lightning continued with every strike and crash of their swords. His eyes burned at her, they looked empty as if in a trance. He yelled as his sword fell upon Sara's arm, cutting it deeply. She twinged in pain. The fight continued.
Constance gasped as she watched cuts and gashes appear on Sara and Ian from their fight. The dream was becoming reality. Some how Big had changed it with his spell. Constance cursed at his now limp form. Irons still squirmed underneath Big's large body. Constance looked down at Sara and then over to her son, "Sara, be strong. He loves you."
Sara dodged another thrust of Ian's sword. The Witchblade hissed at her again, beckoning her to do what she knew she needed to do. Sara wanted to wait until the time was right. She needed to tell him the truth. The truth of how she really felt about him. He was her life, her breath, her very being. He had always been with her some how. She needed to touch him, but she could not get close enough. Sara, then, made a fateful choice. Ian thrust again, but instead of Sara dodging this time, she dropped her guard. The Witchblade turned into the bracelet as Ian's sword pierced Sara's stomach. She felt the cool metal burn her as it drove deeper. Sara reached out for him. She pulled his blade into her, up to the hilt. Ian's eyes grew wide. He was close enough to hold. Sara wrapped her arms around him, biting back the pain. His body trembled; his hand still held the sword. Her blood was spilling from her.
A large bloody hole appeared in Sara's stomach and Constance began to weep. She looked over at Ian, "Why?" Her eyes fell upon Sara's pale face, "No, don't die." Her tears fell into the wound.
Sara's head rested in the curve of Ian's strong neck. "It's over…" Her voice was a whisper. She slowly lifted her head to look into his eyes. "I don't care if I die now." The emptiness that was in his eyes began to be filled once more. She felt his hands slip from the hilt of his sword. Sara continued with great pain, "I'm not afraid of dying. Not as long as you are with me…" Ian's eyes became blurred with tears. She brought her hand up to his cheek. Their eyes locked. Sara could see the real man return as she started to drop to the floor. His lips quivered; he wrapped his arms around her, supporting her dying body. Sara caught his mouth with her own. Warmth flooded over both of them. Pulling away, Sara held his face with both of her hands. "I love you…" Her body shook in convulsions as her breath slowed.
Ian lowered her to the ground, gently pulling the sword from her strong belly. Her convulsions slowed and stopped. He leaned over her, cradling her in his arms. "Sara, no." He whispered, "Don't leave me." She smiled softly up at him. Her hand brushed his hair out of his eyes and rested on the side of his face. He brought up a large hand to cover hers. His insides churned as he watched the life fade from her eyes. Her hand became limp in his. He choked back the tears that were flooding his eyes. "No…" His voice was barely audible. Ian pulled her close to his body. "You can't die. I…" He looked at the sword that lay on the stone, covered with her blood. He grabbed it and placed the point to his chest, his tears fell on the blade and mixed with her blood. "I love you." He plunged the blade through his heart. Lightning flashed as his body fell limply on top of hers; their blood mixed and flowed across the floor.
Constance had seen it all. She screamed silently inside as she watched the wound appear in Ian's chest. He had taken his life for her. "No!" She wept.
Irons twisted his neck to see Constance. "What happened?"
She looked at him, tears streaking her face. "They're dead. They're both dead." Her words made her weep even more.
Irons covered his face with his hands. "No." His voice was bitter, defeated. "There must be something that you can do. I must not lose them!" His voice was commanding.
"This has nothing to do with you." She grumbled low in her throat. "You should have died, not them."
He only stared blankly back at her. He continued to try to pry himself out from underneath Big's still form. He mumbled under his breath, "You always were a failure, even as a mother."
Constance looked at him and felt anger rise inside of her. She could do something. Something that would prove that she was not a failure. She stared at the Witchblade. It was still glowing a burning red. Her finger ran over the beautiful red stone. "She's the one you've been waiting for. Do not forsake her." Her words changed from gentle and kind and became harsher. "He has always remained true. They are the chosen ones can't you see!" The Witchblade hissed and glowed, swirling around and around. A great wind began to blow around the room causing papers to fly everywhere. "Prove to me your power!" Lightning flashed and thunder shook Irons' huge office. "A life for a life!" Power dripped from her every word. Her voice was as loud as the thunder. "I am yours!" Tears fell from her eyes as her hair blew violently. "TAKE ME!"
In the dream the wind became violent as well. It swirled around the two silent warriors picking them up off the stone ground. Their hair whipped around their faces. The wind carried them around the room spinning them, as it would carry leaves. Light began illuminating from their bodies, shooting beams of light around the room. Heat radiated from them. Their armor exploded from them disappearing into the brilliant light. The light bathed their wounds searing them shut. It fell upon them like silk caresses the skin. They floated to the ground now in each other's embrace. Sara and Ian lay upon the ground, the light covered them. They were reborn.
The room had become quiet. Irons lay still. He had a perplexed and scared look on his face. He saw Constance control the Witchblade as no other woman ever had. It had obeyed her completely. "A life for a life." He whispered and blacked out.
Constance felt her body become weak when Sara and Ian's wounds started fade. A small smile spread across her face. "Thank you." She looked at the Witchblade. It glowed back at her and breathed softly. Constance breathed with the Witchblade and drifted into unconsciousness.
