Thank you all (here, I name you: BloodHeron for your quickness to reassure me, Tegaladwen for your encouragement to continue, Aditu for your faithful reviews all through the chapters (and over on Star Trek too), Salem's Darkness for your enthusiasm (inimitable, might I add) and Neferit for a late review that was such a sweet surprise) ever so much for your reviews. You really make it worthwhile to write and post here. I am really grateful for all your encouragement after last chapter (truly, I almost abandoned the story there and never post the 10th chapter).
BloodHeron, you will be glad to know that your comment about how you really wanted to know what happens with the Zann Esu is what pushed me to re-do this chapter (for the third time… aw, writing is tough). I had written a first draft of this story like three months ago, found it way too long, and cut in many places, among which this chapter. But as you were so insistent, I dug it out of my computer, re-tweaked it and put it as it is now. So…
Hope you all enjoy!
Chapter 11. Life goes on
Atsanit watched him go; he was five meters from the ground when he turned to look at her a last time. She almost cried at that moment. She saw his love and sadness in his eyes, and they seemed to be blue for an instant. Then he turned, put his hood over his curly blond hair, and flew upwards faster. She sat on her cape on the ground and rolled it around her shoulders, feeling cold, still in shock from all that happened. She held on to his words about their moment of beauty, that would remain as such forever in her memory, and dragged herself up to her feet, not shedding a tear. She put her armour back on, took shield and Jared stone in hand, and tasted for a few seconds how much of a part of her such battle gear was. And she started to walk back to the Zann Esu.
She reached the village in no time. The gate was held by Sara, the guardian for many years. Atsanit stared at her, almost disbelieving how familiar this image was. Of course it would be Sara guarding the doors, but Atsanit had changed so much in the last few months that she had expected the rest of the world to change as well. The elder Sorceress looked at the young woman closing on the gates, puzzled. She reminded her of someone, but she could not place her.
"Halt!", she demanded. "Identify yourself."
The young woman stopped, and looked at her straight in the eye. "It is me, Atsanit."
Then Sara recognized the young Sorceress that had left the village a few months ago to go the Rogues' lands, answering the rumours about the Wanderer, Diablo's freedom and the troubles arising in the west. The older Sorceress made a great smile as she walked forward to hug the girl.
"My, look at you! You're too old to have grown up, but you certainly have grown in power! Look at this… all those artefacts of power you carry… Welcome back, Atsanit. We all thought you dead!"
She saw Atsanit suddenly freeze. "You don't know," the young girl stated.
"Know what, exactly?", Sara asked. "We know a lot of things."
"About the Three."
"We know they have been defeated, and their souls banished. The Sorceresses that left after you took a lot of time to clean the demons from Tamoe. That is why we thought you were dead, since there were still demons."
Atsanit looked confused. "They just never caught up with me. I freed the Monastery, the Rogues ought to have told you this much?"
"Yes, they told us that the Monastery had been conquered by the forces of Light, but always mentioned the "Hero", nothing else. We did not know who it was…" At that, Sara gazed at the young Sorceress before her. There was something powerful in her way of standing there in full battle gear, wearing on every part of her body a magical object with an unassuming pride and a calm that stated that she knew how to use them. Her bearing spoke of infinite wisdom beyond her years, of the greatest trials survived, of the worst horrors faced, of intimate knowledge of herself. "It was you," Sara realized slowly.
"Then I end up as the Wanderer, no one remembering my name but my deeds. So be it," Atsanit answered. There was a great weariness to add to the list of what transpired in her bearing. She sighed, and went on: "But I believe I have the right to tell, at least to you, that I have not stopped my journey at the Monastery. I have followed the Wanderer, who was possessed by Diablo, to the East, and reached Lut Gholein. There I searched for Tal Rasha's tomb, who was possessed by Baal, and was too late; they were already gone. So I pushed further, to Kurast, the prison of the last of the Three, Mephisto. He was already free when I came, and his brothers gone. I defeated him, and took his Soulstone. The gate to Hell was opened in the temple, and I crossed it, in search of the brothers and to destroy the Lord of Hatred's Soulstone. I battled through Hell until I reached the Hellforge, and I destroyed the Soulstone. Then I marched into the Chaos Sanctuary, and faced Diablo. I defeated him, and destroyed his Soulstone at the Hellforge. But then Tyrael took me to Harrogath, in the Barbarian lands, because that is where Baal was, looking for a way to reach the Worldstone. The demon arrived there before I did, and corrupted the Worldstone, looking to change it into a means of transport for demons from Hell, before I was able to defeat him. Tyrael had to destroy the Worldstone to spare the world the infernal legions of Baal. And we destroyed the last Soulstone, and he took me here." She took a breath. "And so I am here at last."
Sara stared at her young colleague in silence. "Quite a long tale, actually." It did not cross her mind to doubt the girl's word; there was something in her casual naming of the Three Prime Evils that made it unnervingly clear that she had faced and banished them.
Atsanit grimaced. "That's the awfully short version. I skipped the dramatic parts when I spill my guts all over the floor or the boring parts when I run the other way for miles in front of advancing demons." And the amazing part that I fell in love.
Sara stepped aside from the gates slowly, with a respectful bow of the head. "Go on in, young Sorceress, and be welcomed back to your homeland. I am sure lady Namizan will be happy to hear of your survival and tales."
Atsanit nodded, and came into the village, walking towards the house of the Zann Esu's leader in the bright morning. Yet the light was not as beautiful and as warming as was Tyrael's.
ooooo
Life went on disturbingly similar as it had been before she had left it. It became clearer and clearer how much she had changed so much in so little time, and how she had naturally expected the whole world to have changed from the freedom of the Three, but nothing had changed so much as her.
She was welcomed as a Hero, given a house in the village and an honorific staff. She confirmed her reputation of warrior in the first few years, sent out the gates with Sara and a few other experienced Sorceresses to cleanse the jungle of the last of the undead and demons that Mephisto had unleashed across the lands. Everyone that fought besides Atsanit was quickly made aware of her grand mastery of Ice magic, and her also impressive mastery of Lightning. She rapidly rose into the ranks of the Zann Esu because of her fighting skills; there were those that said that she was more powerful than Sara in her years and than Namizan, the Zann Esu's leader, in this moment. Atsanit had honed her fighting skills against countless demons over a very short period, and no one had expected her to come back a mere year after completing her basic training and be this powerful; and no one was ready to make her the leader over an experienced politician like Namizan.
There was no arrogance in Atsanit, no unnecessary show of power, no display of ambition for Namizan's role, and she quickly ended up the guardian to the doors, sharing the duty with an aging Sara, that could not do the long hours of standing wearing armour anymore. She was also given a teaching charge, to teach to the youngest recruits the intricacies of Ice magic.
The world grew a quiet place. Atsanit knew that maybe, in the distant future, demons would rise again to try and conquer the land, but it would be long, numerous years before they recovered from the death and banishment of the Three Prime Evils, and the loss of the two remaining Lesser Evils. She held secret pride in having earned the name "Slayer", but she never spoke of her adventures beyond where she had gone and the names of the demons she had vanquished when asked, and when an occasional question about Tyrael arose, she merely said that the Archangel had been guarding Tal Rasha's tomb, and that he had offered guidance in her quest, fulfilling his duty in this way, bound by Heaven's rule of non-intervention.
Eventually, Sara passed on, and Atsanit was left the sole guardian of the doors. In time she also became the Ice mistress of the Zann Esu, so clearly overpowering the current one that the post had been given her without contest or protest. She also became one of aged Namizan's close counsellors, a very respected, if discreet, one. She was a respected and eminent member of the Zann Esu, and she was proud to have earned the respect of her colleagues.
ooooo
The community gathered this day to meet the newest recruit, a girl from Kurast, known by the name of Makiri. Atsanit gasped as she came to the central square of the village, where the girl was. As she was now one of the authority figures of the Zann Esu, everyone noticed her sudden gasp. She was not looking at the girl, but further away over her shoulder. She eventually looked down at the girl, forced a smile, and walked forward to welcome her to the Zann Esu.
The angel watching over the girl looked at her with a curious look on his face. No mortal was supposed to see him, and he wondered how this one could see him, and why she had chosen not to reveal his presence. His charge and her colleagues were to remain oblivious to his presence, and they would have noticed his presence without a doubt if he had spoken to ask the Sorceress not to reveal his presence.
Three days passed before he was given an answer. He watched over the young girl as she was meeting her new inmates, learning her first cantrips, discreetly whispering advice to her unknowing ears a few times, quietly forbidding when she was about to do something that could lead her the evil path, comforting her when she missed her family.
Then, as Makiri was finishing one of her classes and going to play with her new friends, she met Atsanit, the Ice mistress, in a desert alleyway in the village.
"I would have words with you," Atsanit said, looking straight into the angel's face. He was bound to silence. Then Atsanit turned her eyes to the girl, terrified by the tone of absolute commandment in Atsanit's voice. "Quickly, now girl.", she answered, and the angel felt she was simulating annoyance. It worked; Makiri followed her without questioning why she had spoken to her while looking over her shoulder.
Makiri followed the Mistress of Ice and Guardian to her house. She entered when she was invited in, and bowed very correctly to her elder. "It is only a short matter, Makiri," the Mistress said, gently enough. "I just wished to say that you are proving quite promising in your class of Ice magic, but I would expect a little more thorough attention at your homework." She made a stern face to the girl, whose eyes dropped.
"Yes, lady Atsanit," the girl answered, obedient, still obviously terrified at her teacher's annoyance.
"Very well, child," the Mistress said, softening. "You can go back to your plays, but lady Namizan wishes to see you also before you return to your friends."
"Yes, lady Atsanit," the girl nodded, made a curtsy and left. The angel watched at her go; he knew she would be safe in Namizan's care, the time he spoke with Atsanit.
"Who are you?", the Ice mistress asked as she was staring straight at him.
"I am David, guardian angel, of Michael's army."
"Oh," the Zann Esu answered. David saw and felt her relax. "Well… a pleasure to meet you."
"How can you see me, mortal?", the angel asked.
"I am Slayer Atsanit. Surely you have heard that name before." The title was pronounced without boasting, and David shivered. "I have lived in Pandemonium for a time, and met the Archangel Tyrael. I am not sure which fact permits me to see you now."
"Either one would have sufficed," the angel answered.
She nodded. "I will understand if you do not wish to reveal this to me, but why are you looking over Makiri?"
"She is promised a grand destiny. She will discover an artefact of great evil power, and the Heavens felt she needed Light's guidance early in her life, that she may resist the temptation when she is faced with it."
Atsanit grimaced. "May her destiny come to her when she is old." She added in an afterthought: "And in full possession of all her powers. I would retrieve this artefact to spare her if you wish."
"It is her own destiny, Slayer," David answered.
"Of course, it always is," Atsanit sighed. "Then I will also watch over her, and do my best to hone her skills before she is faced with whatever guards it. Because there is always something guarding it."
"You have fought too many battles, Slayer Atsanit. Sometimes the battle is to be fought inside, not with exterior demons."
A slow, predator smile crossed Atsanit's face, and suddenly he had a vivid vision of what she must have looked like in her time. "And you, guardian angel, have not fought enough battles, or found yourself in enough crypts, tombs, dungeons, sewers or caves. The vanquishing of the Three did not erase monsters, demons and undead from this world, and evil is drawn to power, always, as is its nature." She paused, looking at David that stared back at her, answering nothing. He knew the truth of her words, and she was projecting any emotion she had three times stronger than any other mortal he had known. She was projecting nearly as firmly as he was, and it was unsettling. No wonder she had broken Tyrael's heart, the fool. She growled. "If you think once more in what you think is the secret of your thoughts that Tyrael is a fool, you will answer to my wrath. An Archangel, any Archangel, deserves your respect, guarding angel David."
David blinked. "I… am sorry. I ask your forgiveness, I did not wish to insult the Warrior."
She shrugged. "Very well, David. You shall have my collaboration in keeping your presence as secret as it can be, and in raising the call in Makiri for the fight for the Light."
David bowed; the mortal had earned the respect of all Heaven. She bowed her head to him too, and finally she said: "And I would thank you not to insinuate again that I do not know what fighting with Evil inside of one's heart means." She paused, letting him the time to understand what she had said. "I have carried Mephisto's Soulstone for three weeks before it could be destroyed, and I have wielded the Infernal Hammer three times."
David swallowed, then bowed his head once more. "I salute you, Slayer Atsanit." He left.
ooooo
Atsanit looked at him go. She sighed when he left. He had reminded her of Tyrael, and she was always a little sad when she thought of Tyrael. She was also filled with sweet memories, but memories were memories. This angel wore no hood, being of a lower rank, and his face was plain to see. He was blond also, but of a darker hue, and his hair was not curly, simply falling straight on his shoulders. His features were older, more square than those of Tyrael, and she had felt his wisdom was not as great as that of Tyrael.
She closed her eyes and remembered Tyrael's features behind her closed eyelids. The Archangel with a broken heart, according to David. She wondered if David was just repeating Michael's vision of the affair, of if he knew Tyrael personally to judge that his heart was broken. She smiled, stretching her thoughts towards Pandemonium, wondering if he was still there, in his silent watch near the hearth, surveying the growth of the world of the mortals. Surely he was still watching over all the mortals, like an Arch-guarding-angel, no matter where he stood in his silent vigil. She smiled, remembering his tenderness and his love, for a time, then she turned her thoughts back to her present work.
ooooo
Over the years, she sometimes thought back of Tyrael. She sometimes looked back at her cape upon which she had slept in his arms, or remembered his smile in a flash behind her closed eyelids. She wondered what had happened to him, what was his duty now that he no longer guarded Tal Rasha's tomb, and that the Sin War was over.
Of course, Tyrael could feel her thoughts turning to him. Each time she thought of him, he was halted in his duty – surveillance of a demon trying to gate out of Hell, analyzing intelligence about the political reorganization and fight in Hell, or whatever – his heart touched by her thoughts. Each time, he smiled with sadness under the shadow of his hood; he could not respond to her thoughts, bound once more by the rule of non-intervention, but as always his heart was warmed, and he drew strength for himself, from her ability to love him across the distances, and to feel comfort and happiness at his memory, despite time and distance, and everything setting them apart.
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Just a side note to all of you after the review by Aditu: No, you didn't really think it was over here, did you? I take great pride in finally labelling my stories "complete", and have not done so yet, so… still a few chapters left to go. You didn't think they would live lonely ever after, did ya?
