The Balinor Chronicles: The Celestial Herd
Chapter Thirty: The Heir of Diablo
This Chapter is dedicated to Holy Sorceress.
The Heir of Diablo came to the Valley. The Heir of Diablo found The Elementals. The Heir of Diablo demanded to speak with the Mare. And his wish was granted. For one full day, from sunset to sunset, the Heir of Diablo and the Mare palavered in the cave in the mountains. And so they spoke.
Much of what they spoke about is now lost forever, for none were there but they. However, it is known that The Heir of Diablo asked the Mare for the Twilights, since neither side considered themselves a part of the other. Why should the Twilights remain when Solaris hated them; why should Solaris be forced to accept the Twilights. The Heir of Diablo asked the Mare if she would let the forsaken Unicorns leave with him. It is known that the Mare denied him. No, they should not leave. They are bound to The Supreme Ruler, and it was not the Mare's place to say who could leave and who should stay. You and your minions serve The Dark One. You return to your ruling, yes, you return to your lands, and you leave us here. Besides, the Mare adds, what makes you think that the Twilights would even want to leave with you? Well?
The Heir of Diablo stirred slightly in his chair. Upon reaching the Mare's cave he had shifted into a shape reminiscent of Diablo; matching the lost Igdrasil almost perfectly in his looks. It was a form that the Mare had longed for over the years, and The Heir of Diablo gave it to her. It confused her though, more than once calling him by the name of Diablo. He listened intently as the Mare restated he question.
"What makes you think they will want to leave anyway?"
The Heir of Diablo grinned. It was a grin that his entire family had perfected over the years; being learned directly from The Dark One himself. It was enough to send shivers down spines, and even the Mare, the almighty Mare, Arioch thought with a grin, even the Mare looked uneasy under it. He put his hands together in front of his face, their fingertips lightly touching. The Heir of Diablo grinned broadly at the Mare, his eyes reflecting his smile.
"Why do I think they will come? Because, my dear Mare, I have already asked them."
A moment passes as the Mare registers this. "You what!"
"Of course. I asked. It is what any leader would do, of course."
The Mare is insulted. Not only has this mockery of the past come tromping into her Valley, but he has gone over her head and taken control of things that were never his to control. And she sees through The Heir of Diablo: she knows what he wants his own army for. And with this army… hemight even try to conquer the Valley itself.
"Never," she tells him, "will you or your kind set foot in this land."
Now The Heir is enraged. "How can you deny me my birthright? These lands belong to the Heirs of the Idgrasil, not some meddling mare and her band of horned horses. These lands belong to me!"
The Mare stared The Heir of Diablo in the eye. "Never shall your kind rule here."
"Wait and see."