~AN~ *bow* Thanks, Nix and Fang. From the next story on I'm going to go my own way---thanks for helping me come to that decision. It's so much more enjoyable for me that way. *laughs at the thought of either of you being ignorant* I appreciate your support!
In other business areas, a big apology to you all for not updating sooner; however, I was slightly busy in the past few days, and just couldn't. Hurricane Isabel was heading for our town, you see, and my parents decided to evacuate because (a) we live on the banks of a river and (b) a very large, hole-filled oak tree was about ready to come down, and if it were blown to the southeast it would have fallen directly onto my parents' bedroom. Ergo we left home, hoping we wouldn't come back to find it flooded yet again---myself specially, as my room is in our mostly underground basement---and waited.
As it turns out Isabel went west of us, so apart from having no electricity until a few hours ago the house was fine. The tree cracked a few feet up from the ground, but fell west to our relief, and is now kept from crashing to the ground by several other trees' supportive arms. Our parrotlet Kiwi took the evacuation quite well, which was a tremendous relief to us all. (Our last two parrot lets, both which we had at different times and loved dearly, died of stress-related illness; Scruffy went through a move, and Jester went through another evacuation, this one initiated for flooding causes. We were very worried about Kiwi with this evacuation, but he took it without a blink.)
Enjoy the chapter, all!
Disclaimer: "Shouldn't you tell them this is kind of the last chapter?"---Bass
Disclaimer Num. 2: "SHHHHHH!"---Avis
Here we go round the prickly pear
Prickly pear prickly pear
Here we go round the prickly pear
At five o'clock in the morning.
Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom
Between the conception
And the creation
Between the emotion
And the response
Falls the Shadow
Life is very long
Between the desire
And the spasm
Between the potency
And the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom
For Thine is
Life is
For Thine is the
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.
The Hollow Men, by T. S. Eliot
Chapter Eighteen:
Falls The Shadow
Nightmaren wandered about the castle, confused and unsure of what to do. Their leaders were all brooding in the Great Hall, Reala had gone after NiGHTS, whom it was rumored had betrayed Lord Wizeman, and their ruler himself was alone in his throne room, silent. No one knew what was going on.
Morgen had a pretty good idea, though. He hummed as he polished his sword yet again, knowing that the weapon didn't need it but wanting to do something with his time. Eventually he began to sing. "Pilgrim, how you journey on the road you chose; to find out why the winds die, and where the stories go. All days come from one day, that much you must know…you cannot change what's over, but only where you go…"
Tessa sat down next to him, waxing her bowstring and watching the younger maren move about in the courtyard, talking and whispering. "I wonder what this is all about."
"The moment of convergence is passed," said a strange voice in a vague monotone. It was absolutely indescribable, that voice; soft, and yet perfectly still, with never a flux in tone. The emphasis was low and calm. RagDoll's constant smile was still in place as she leaned over them, eyes wandering to the sky. "One hundred years will pass before it comes again."
"One hundred years, hm?" replied Tessa, not looking up from her bow. "Well, whoever messed up is going to get it well. Lord Wizeman won't like waiting a century."
"He doesn't," RagDoll said, and moved away, her head lolling to one side as she walked.
Terrance sat down next to his sister and jerked his head at the black and white clad maren that was going down the walkway. "Weird lady," he murmured. Tessa inclined her head in agreement.
Morgen continued to polish his sword, still singing quietly. "Each heart is a pilgrim, each one wants to know the reason why the winds die, and where the stories go. Pilgrim, in your journey, you may travel far, for pilgrim it's a long way to find out who you are…"
Dark Rhapsody sang through the air, and then landed deep in the mossy earth, its song silenced.
Reala stared at NiGHTS, almost unable to comprehend what had just happened. NiGHTS, a person who had only started learning swordsmanship a few months ago, had disarmed him with a single well-placed blow.
NiGHTS stared back, equally shocked. Slowly he let his hand drop to his side, quivering. 'Lucky Star was named well,' was the only thing he could think.
He swallowed. "Reals, I want you to know---"
"Don't call me Reals!" snarled his brother, clasping his wounded arm tightly in an effort to stem the blood flow. "You can't call me that!"
"Rea---Reala, I'm not trying to go against Wizeman, really, I'm just trying to keep people from dying."
Reala's voice was deadly calm. "You betrayed us, Traitor. You betrayed me."
NiGHTS gaped at him, wanting to deny it, wanting to beg forgiveness, wanting to try and explain. He never got a chance to do any of it.
Reala saw his hesitation, and like a good fighter he took advantage of the situation.
With one swift blow NiGHTS was unconscious at his feet.
His brother stood over him, gazing at the fist that had just smashed into NiGHTS' temple. The fist that had given him the advantage. It was his strength, and he'd used it. He won.
Yes. Strength was power.
Ideya Capture---nightmaren feared them. Made of an unknown energy, Ideya Capture were small, empty spaces blocked by four pillars and boxed in with clear energy fields; there were five in the Dream World, the most well-known one placed in Spring Valley. They were known as prisons, although where the tale had come from no one really knew. Nightmaren couldn't break free if they managed to get inside, but nobody was ever actually put in them, after all. In fact, there wasn't even a reason for them to be there.
Until now.
Silence reigned in the halls of Nightmare Castle. In the Great Hall the High Seekers waited, shooting each other glances and tapping fingers until barked at to stop it. Students gathered in large clumps in the hallways to discuss the goings-on in whispers, exchanging ideas and rumors. Leaders gathered in smaller groups, also exchanging views and ideas, although theirs were usually more trustworthy. Everyone was waiting.
The High Seekers all straightened as Wizeman's voice echoed into their minds. 'Come to me. I wish to speak to you all.'
They gave each other questioning looks and did as ordered, filing out of the Great Hall and heading for the throne room. Several maren looked up at them as they passed, and one or two were bold enough to break the silence. "Please, sir, what's going on?"
"You'll find out soon enough," was Clawz's favorite reply.
When they entered, after bowing, curtsying, or bending their heads respectfully, they found that Reala was standing by Wizeman's side. He looked ragged, as if he'd just been through a fight, and one or two bruises looked like they had been dealt by a much larger hand than NiGHTS', but he looked happy all the same. The general held himself tall, head high, his eyes glistening with pride. Wizeman gestured to him with a languid hand.
"Reala has overtaken NiGHTS. The Ideya are gone, and we must wait another century to put our plan in motion; Reala has apologized for his failure, and I have accepted his apology."
Reala winced at the mention of accepting apologies, and his hand went briefly to a large bruise under his eye, but he said nothing.
"Reala has taken NiGHTS on in hand to hand combat," Wizeman continued. "And he was won. He has proved his superiority as my most worthwhile creation."
Reala closed his eyes for a moment, feeling his muscles tremble from the emotion running through him.
He was finally perfect.
Jackle's smiling voice broke through the gathered group's respective thoughts. "Boss, what about NiGHTS?"
Wizeman's eyes turned to focus on the demi-maren, noting the vacant look in his eyes. Then he held a hand out, willing the eye in its center to act as a looking-glass for a moment. Within its orb a picture of Spring Valley appeared.
The Ideya Capture there now had an occupant.
Wizeman's voice floated down to them, quiet. "He has rebelled against my will, and therefore I have condemned him to eternal imprisonment. He will never fly again."
Silence followed his declaration. Behind the other High Seekers, Jackle pressed his face against Gillwing's side and whimpered.