Author's Note: This is going to be my last update until around April, when I come back from my vacation. Gone from the computer for two weeks…somehow I will survive. Anyways, I was not planning to install this chapter until after vacation, but for the sake of the reviewers, here you go.
Disclaimer: Not mine…Eriko Myoujin/ Word of a Sayre gave me some help on writing this. Other than that, the material is either Garth Nix's or mine. I think you can tell between them.
Chapter 8- A Miserable Mishap.:Narrator's POV:.
"Goodbye, Tal."
The two simple words echoed in Tal's mind, numbing him from reality. Only a moment ago had she been screaming with Sharrakor, and at that time, everything was humorous. But not now. She had not been kidding at all when she mentioned her sacrificing herself. He should have learned by now that Milla hardly joked around, except for those peculiar Icecarl ones about revisiting danger.
A sharp slap to his face woke him from his wandering thoughts. He blinked, and touched his stinging cheek, still in a daze. He started as Malen's voice spoke to him.
"Tal? Tal! Are you okay? Tal, speak!"
"I'm alright," responded Tal automatically. He avoided Milla's concerned gaze. Apart from his lie three years ago about not burning some of Gref's hair, that was probably the most unbelievable lie he had ever said. Malen and Milla glanced at each other, then faced Sharrakor.
"What is it to be?" he repeated. "Is your Emperor going to sacrifice himself? Because he looks very prepared for the grave," he added sarcastically, nodding at the bemused Tal.
.:Milla's POV:.
"No," I replied smoothly, ignoring Tal. Apparently the boy did not take farewells too easily. He had gone stony once I had said mine. "I am."
'This makes no sense,' thought Sharrakor, staring at the bold War-Chief. 'Out of the three of them, they decide to kill off the warrior, leaving the weaker ones. And I thought she was insane…'
"Very well," he said. "Out of courtesy for the lady, how would you like to die?"
"I am honored that you think of your manners," I answered sardonically. "But as you would let me choose, I would prefer a swift death, instead of a slow one."
"Is that all?"
"Yes."
Sharrakor bowed mockingly, "Then it is final. Thou shalt die promptly. Alas, the lady did not express her wishes on who would kill her."
His smirk grew wide, and Malen panicked as she realized what he meant. Her blood ran cold, and she paled immediately. Inside, Sharrakor was struggling to subdue the boy Crow, who seemed to have had an impulsive reaction to seeing the Crone frightened. 'Now, now, little Freefolk…' thought Sharrakor to Crow, 'If you fight, she dies also…' Instantly, Crow behaved.
I noticed this small conflict within Sharrakor, but remained silent. Sharrakor did not have much control over this being as I had thought. It was no wonder, though- Crow was a very obstinate person.
Sharrakor commanded, "I will need a sword."
I took my blade from Tal. "Here," I said cheerfully, giving it to the shadow. To my surprise, he hissed, and drew back.
"Asteyr's sword!"
"Swords," I corrected, interrupting his current midlife crisis.
He ignored me, and said through gritted teeth, "Is that the only sword here?"
"Unfortunately for you, yes, it seems that it is."
"Fine," he said, meeting Malen's terrified expression, and his smirk returned. "Then…Emperor Tal will have the honor of giving you that."
Tal's stupor instantaneously became worse. 'Oh great…' he thought, groaning. 'Just when I thought things could not get anymore worse…'
My upbeat mood deadened at Sharrakor's words. That was not a good way to die. This was the last way I wanted to die. Not by Tal…I looked helplessly at Malen, who seemed frozen and stunned. I looked at Tal, and his eyes were empty, filled with an emotion I could not identify. I think it was fear.
And why not Tal? A nagging voice in my head whispered.
'Because. I would rather Sharrakor did it so I could know I died by the enemy.'
Excuses, excuses, Milla. That is not your main reason, and you know it.
'Yes, it is.'
No, it is not. Stop lying to yourself…'Fine. What is the reason then?'
You do not want to die by Tal because you love him.'I do not love him! That is the most unorthodox and preposterous thing I have ever been accused of! …And that is just sick…'
It is not an accusatory statement, nor is it preposterous. It is the truth, Milla. Face it.
'You lie!' I thought desperately, unconscious of the fact that Sharrakor was impatiently waiting for us to awake from our midlife crisis.
I cannot lie. I am you.
'Then I am going insane.'
Fool! Have you no sense today? First you hold his hand for nearly fifteen minutes, blush when he points it out, ignore the fact he wanted to protect you from getting wounded, scream at the worst enemy standing before you, wish to die to escape problems, and still remain oblivious to the fact that he is in a daze because you are the last person he wants to lose!
'What???'
Never mind…Just…go back to your suicidal thoughts.
Okay then. I was going insane. We all were. I just had an argument with my conscience, and Malen and Tal seemed to permanently be missing in La-La Land. Brilliant. Just brilliant. We were so going to beat Sharrakor this way.
"May we have another moment to confer?" I said to the shadow, who was beginning to look very bored and impatient for a murder. Without waiting for a response, I said, "Thank you so much! Come on you two." I shoved them behind me. "Shoo." I waved a hand impatiently to Sharrakor.
Bewildered, the shadow, strode off to the other side once more, and waited. Meanwhile, I turned back to Malen and Tal, and unceremoniously slapped them across their faces. They flinched, then glared at me. Touchy people- it was not like I had disturbed anything important. Little did I know that Tal was having a similar debate within like me, though far less complex:
You love her.
'No I don't.'
Yes you do.
'No I don't.'
Yes you do.
'No I don't.'
YES YOU DO.
But anyways, back to reality. "WAKE UP!" I hollered to both of them.
"What?" snapped Tal, who seemed very irritable for some reason.
"Change of plans."
"What are we doing now?" asked Malen.
"Huddle!" We grouped closer, and told them of my rather spontaneous idea. Three Chosen minutes later, we drew back, and I called for Sharrakor.
"We're ready now!"
"Finally, " he grumbled, unaware of our blank expressions. " Well, Emperor, do the deed."
"Oka-" he began, but was cut off.
"Wait," interrupted Malen. She glanced warily at Sharrakor. "Please…I do not want her to die."
"Do you want to die instead then?"
"No, but I just do not understand why this conflict must be resolved with death. You died before, and you still somehow lived. How are you sure Milla will not return? She is a powerful foe as you remember, and I do not think death would be the final barrier for her to fully destroy you, so…can we not solve this any other way? I mean…" On and on she went. Good ol' Malen.
After ten minutes of her repetition of facts, Sharrakor seemed to have had enough. "STOP! NO. MORE. DISTRACTIONS. SHE…DIES."
He formed a shadow blade, aimed a blow to me, and I jumped back, dodging his blow. "I thought you said the Emperor was meant to be my Grim Reaper. You are breaking our negotiation!"
"TOO…. BAD…." He swung once more, and I barely dodged this attack.
"Missed."
He gritted his teeth and flung his blade rather poorly. I was about to scoff once more until I realized who he was aiming for.
Tal!
I nearly flew over to him, knocking him out of danger. Somehow, only one fleeting thought came to my mind as the sword slashed deeply against my skin.
If he dies, I die.
"MILLA!" screamed Tal, rushing back, just in time to catch me before I fully collapsed from the pain. Such searing pain! I had never felt this before, not even from the Merwin horn. The dark sword must have had some poison on the blade. Everything was blacking out…so…quickly. I became aware of the fact that the sticky liquid I felt pooling beneath me was my own blood.
I also realized that I felt drops against my face. It was faint, but I recognized them, though I had never felt it before: tears…from Tal. "Milla…how could you…" he was saying. "You should have just let me die. Not you…not you…"
"Tal," I said weakly. "Do…not…weep." I coughed, and blood frothed at my lips. Already everything was dim. So little time left! "We will meet again. I…promise." I slowly placed my scarred wrist against his, and then I saw no more.
.:Narrator's POV:.
Malen's heart nearly stopped beating as she saw Milla's bleeding figure die in Tal's arms. The disbelief came to her as she came to the fact that the sword had come from the one possessing Crow's body. As Tal fell sobbing, she whirled around, and saw a satisfied, evil grin come forth from his face. How dare that shadow! How dare it steal Crow's body and defile it with its malevolence. Crow was nothing like that, and now Sharrakor had caused it to murder one of her best friends. No…he had practically killed two- Tal looked as if he had died himself.
She began chanting boldly the Prayer of Asteyr, not realizing that she had broken his will, that she had overcome what he had attempted to prevent. As she chanted through her tears, she stared straight into his eyes, unblinking and unafraid.
Tal blinked through his tears, and gently placed Milla's body upon the ground. When he rose, he glared at the shadow-pawn, hatred filling him from the inside on how much pain it would forever leave him. The only thing stopping him from throttling the shadow was Crow. He would not murder another friend.
He had failed so soon…
Sharrakor resisted with all his might against the Crone's will, not wishing to be defeated again. Yet he was losing. The Crone was not the only one fighting him. The boy Crow was also, fighting to be free, to seek justice.
And while Sharrakor tried to block the Prayer of Asteyr from his mind, he realized that the Crone was not using that Prayer. No…she was using some spell of her own. A spell that had not been used against his side since before the coming of Asteyr. It had failed before, due to an incompetent caster, but this one was powerful. He had to do something before he would be destroyed completely…but there was nothing left. Not against this spell.
Nearly two hundred years before Asteyr, he remembered the spell being used. Its power was to vanquish all the shadows who heard of this spell, and have them never return. The spell had failed, of course, yet all shadows feared the one who would soon rise to speak it. One who would ultimately defeat them.
Their time had come.
"NO!" screamed Sharrakor, covering his ears and trying to run for dear life. Likewise, all of his servants in the room were screeching, and falling to the floor from the pain the spell sent.
Malen nearly bellowed her spell out, mainly directing it at Sharrakor. All of her pain, fear, sorrow, and anger flowed into the spell, and the force of it, knocked the shadow down. It grasped vainly across the floor, trying to escape.
A final, terrible shriek echoed through the hall. Then all was silent.
Author's note: I would greatly appreciate it if you reviewed and expressed your thoughts on this story. I welcome all opinions, even the bad. As I said before, this story will be delayed for a while for my vacation. Sorry!