The Balinor Chronicles: The Celestial Herd
Chapter Fifty-Seven: Check
Farwell, a long farewell to all my greatness!
This is the state of man: today he puts forth
The tender leaves of hope, tomorrow blossoms,
And bears his blushing honours thick upon him:
The third comes a frost, a killing frost,
And –when he thinks, good easy man, full surely
His greatness is a-ripening-nips his root,
And then he falls, as I do.
--King Henry VII, Act III, Scene ii
And you got eternity to think about what'd you do with it…. what did you do with it.
--Tim McGraw, Live Like You Were Dying
If you had told Mulciber on dawn of that morning that he was going to die, he would have laughed. Not just because he had come too far to die. Or because he dealt with death on a daily basis (and therefore no longer feared, he thought) but because of the simple fact that is impossible to kill an Immortals. If you could, he reasoned, wouldn't the Shifter have rid himself of the Mare?
However, it was the day of this morning that Mulciber met Moloth – he of dark coat and ruby eyes and fire blood.
Just as night and day clash in battle to produce dawn and dusk, so two different fires clash to produce fate.
This is the smallest battle of what will become known as the War of the Stars. It is fought only by two unicorns and lasts only as long as the sunset.
But oh, what a battle it is.
-/o
Like all battles that belong to legend and lore, it had a dramatic setting. The pair twisted their way higher and higher up the mountain. Higher and higher, making the sunset stretch out for ages. They leapt over chasms, across gorges, slid down steep inclines with sprays of sparks and gravel.
Like all battles that belong to legend and lore, it was vicious. They both stabbed and sparred and otherwise attempted to mutilate, main, or kill the other.
Like all battles that belong to lore and legend, it was closely matched. Like two twins pushing on opposite sides of a brick wall, neither Moloth nor Mulciber could land that final, killing blow.
Like all battles that belong to lore and legend, there was a victor.
-/o
A single grain of rice may tip the scale.
One man may be the difference between victory and defeat.
--The Emperor, Mulan
When Achilles was born, his mother, Thetis, tried to make him immortal by dipping him in the river Styx. As she immersed him, she held him by one heel and forgot to dip him a second time so the heel she held could get wet too. Therefore, the place where she held him remained untouched by the magic water of the Styx and that part stayed mortal or vulnerable.
Achilles, the Heel,
http/www.wordexplorations.info/Achilles-heel-story.html
Mulciber's weakness lies not in size nor strength, not skill, nor speed, nor a thousand other things that can lead to downfall.
His curse is bad luck.
A single grain of rice may tip the scale. A single crack may bring down the wall. A single stone will decide the war.
If you had told Mulciber during the end of the battle that he was going to die, he would have laughed all the harder. After all, he had Moloth beat, backed into a box canyon, at the mercy of the Fire Stallion.
-/o
After all, it was impossible for an Immortal to die.
-/o
All it took was a pebble, small enough to be unconsidered in the large scope of things… All it took was a pebble to wedge between the hoof wall and the precious frog at the foot of the Unicorn. That was all it took to change the victor.
Moloth had resigned himself to death. But like all beings, he yearned to live. So when Mulciber stumbled in pain, Moloth took it upon himself to ensure that he would live another day, not his enemy. He lunged…
-/o
In the end, Mulciber was right – you can't kill an Immortal…he just faded from one world into another…from thought into memory into legend.