A/N: Sorry, guys. I managed to contract bronchitis and was in bed the past few days (weeks?) trying not to die or something. It was horrid. Plus I'm doing NaNoWriMo, so that's fun, too. Loooads.
Anywho, here's part 4. Enjoy!
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Lemina didn't know what to do.
She sat on one of the polished garden benches, staring down into one of the newly planted flower beds. She didn't know how long she was there, but her vision had long since begun to blur as she became lost in her thoughts.
She knew things were bad—how could she not? Lucia was kidnapped, Althena was dead, and Zophar was on the warpath to consume everything.
But what could she do? She wasn't brave like Hiro. She wasn't honorable like Leo or dependable like Jean, and she certainly wasn't lucky or trustworthy like Ronfar, for all of his otherwise perverted qualities. Her skills certainly paled in comparison to Lucia's, and if Lucia couldn't manage to defeat Zophar, how was Lemina supposed to?
Sometimes she wondered if she even brought anything good to the group besides her hokey magical skills. Maybe they just kept her around for her ability to lop around giant fireballs.
Ha, there's Lemina. Let's laugh at the girl whose personality and personal life sucks. She dresses like a frugal old maid and she scares people. She can't do anything else well at all; she can't even restore Vane. Ha, ha, ha.
Lemina sighed. What could she do?
She heard the footsteps of someone else walking through the gardens of Vane, but she didn't bother to look up. There were only two people besides Lemina who bothered to walk through the gardens right now, and one of them was currently with Borgan and the others.
Instead, she dropped her chin onto her palm and reveled in her own misery.
"Surely you're not thinking of trying to save this miserable planet, now are you, girl? You'll never succeed."
"Can it, Ghaleon. I'm not in the mood. Go away before I mega blast you right back to Zophar." Lemina didn't bother to look up or turn around from the bench she'd slumped down on, but she also didn't bother to hide her irritation and frustration, either.
Ghaleon chuckled, riling up Lemina further as he stopped to hover over her. "My, my, what a temper you have, girl. I must say, I'm quite surprised. Little Mia was the very opposite of you. How is it her power breeds true but you lack her innate poise and refinement?"
Lemina ground her teeth together. "I'd like to see you try being ladylike in this mess! I'd rather work hard to restore Vane than waste time being ladylike!" She huffed as she leapt up from the bench.
"Mmm, yes. I could see how that would keep one busy. I can see how it might take more time to rebuild than it did to destroy." Ghaleon didn't seem the least bit repentant.
Lemina wanted to fireball his ass for the smirk he now wore, and she felt all of her pent-up anger—because of Vane, because of Borgan, because of Lucia, because of Zophar and everything else that Lemina couldn't control or fix—swarm through her, and she snapped, forgetting the good Ghaleon had done for them, the faeries . . . and even for Vane.
"Well, at least I'm trying to fix it, unlike some tyrannical dictators I could name! You're nothing but a mega destructive monster and I almost wish Zophar would keep bringing you back, just so we could keep killing you for what you've done!"
She turned and stalked from the gardens, nose high in the air and barely even noticing Jean and the others as she stalked to the Cave of Trials to begin regaining her magic. She would be strong enough to make a difference, and she would show Ghaleon everything she was capable of.
And then Ghaleon could get swallowed by Zophar for all she cared, like Lucia almost had.
She would later regret that those were the last words she ever spoke to him before his untimely end.
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"Are you watching over them, Dyne? Those children . . . shine with your light." It was painful for him to speak when his wounded body had been so thoroughly abused by both Hiro and Zophar, though the fleeting aura of Zophar's power led to the destruction of Ghaleon's recrafted body by Hiro.
Once, a boy like Hiro wouldn't have left a scratch on Ghaleon, but Zophar had caught on to Ghaleon's bluff, and left his reanimated body weakened, ready to collapse.
Ghaleon, however, had no intentions of letting Zophar be the one to call the last blow . . . but now, the boy who reminded him of Alex, the boy who reminded him of Dyne, had finally put an end to all of the misery Ghaleon had caused.
It was finally time.
Ghaleon smiled as the sun seemed to reach out and wrap around him, softly glowing under the Blue Star. He was ready for it, ready to finally rest his soul and enjoy the peace that heaven would surely offer him now.
After all, he'd done enough, hadn't he? He'd done his best to correct and fix what he could, to guide Hiro, Lucia, and their little entourage and mold them into what they'd need to be to best Zophar.
Ghaleon couldn't undo what he'd done, but he'd done the next best thing.
He'd finally earned his peace now, surely. Purgatory no longer had any such claims to his person—for that alone he would embrace death a hundred times, just to finally be able to rest in gentle warmth he believed heaven to be.
In many ways, he didn't envy Dyne his fate.
Dyne's spirit had been too strong, too tormented, to ever fully rest, and though Dyne had long since lost his corporeal form, he still continued to be tied to Lunar, doing his best to defend it no matter the personal cost. Somehow, Dyne endured and fought on, continuing to protect Lunar because there could never be another Dragonmaster again—another reason why he'd hated the false human Althena. Every time she called him by that title, he'd vibrated with fury, for Ghaleon could never bear that mantle, should never bear that mantle . . . and so it was left up to Dyne to continue protecting Lunar when no one else had the strength to do so.
Dyne may have had his powers weakened, but he was still the strongest man on the entire planet.
No, with Athena gone, Dyne was the strongest being on the planet.
No matter what the boy had believed a millennia ago, Dyne was truly the last Dragonmaster, for only a Dragonmaster would have sought such a fate willingly, without provocation from his Goddess.
Alex, on the other hand, had retired from Dragonmaster and settled down with the human-Goddess to spend the remainder of their humanity in peace.
There was seldom peace for a Dragonmaster, however, and Alex's willingness to let go of everything for a humble life only proved he was never to fully become a Dragonmaster, due to Alex's own personal desires—and a Dragonmaster's personal desires never mattered. What mattered was the people of Lunar's desires and, primarily, the Goddess' own desires—that was the ultimate purpose of the Dragonmaster, to serve his or her life fully for everyone but himself.
The dragons may have accepted the boy as such, but Ghaleon never would. For Ghaleon, Dyne was the greatest . . . and the last.
Still, he'd finally made amends for his past, and he closed his eyes to embrace the peace the boy had fought for all of those years ago.
It was finally time.