Ranni at first thought it was thunder, but as she looked to the sky, she saw that it was cloudless. What were these horrible barrages? The realization struck her as she watched massive waves of sand billow out from where she knew Owain and his band to be. She raised her spy glass in a rush, bemoaning what she saw.
Owain and Radahn struck each other with such force , each strike held such terrible power, that the very noise and pressure of it was as the most torrential of thunderstorms. Those other tarnished were wretchedly useless! She watched in disbelief as, one by one, they reappeared by the lift to the fort until it was Owain alone who remained against her brother. She- she had to do something! Some spell, some magic to halt them.
By the moon, she had not expected Radahn to still hold such strength! Perhaps Wain's recklessness had become her own of late. Her shaking hands fumbled her spyglass and she caught it to her chest. Breathe, Ranni. You must think, stupid girl! She turned to Blaidd, who was whining low in his throat. "Go fetch mother, Blaidd! Hurry!" He leapt to his task. Ranni's pride be damned, mayhap mother would yet be able to do something!
What to do, what to do! Her horrified eyes remained locked onto the battle between lords, ignoring the cheers of the redmanes applauding and encouraging both combatants. Owain had pulled her brother from his horse; both men losing their armaments in the fierce clash. Oh, her big idiots were both going to die! The platform collectively winced as a blow from Radahn knocked Owain's helmet clean off his head, the shock of it shaking the very stones she stood upon.
Ranni was paralyzed by indecision, if she interfered she could distract Owain and cause either his or Radahn death by mistake. Any further spells from her could draw Radahn's blind wrath and damn all in the castle. Alas! How was the many magics cast on Owain already not enough to see him through to victory!
The other tarnished were charging back to the fight, but they were so far from rendering aid, it would be decided by the time they reached Owain! There! She would send them on their way! Ranni leapt from the rampart, flying down in a mad rush, she swept up the other tarnished in a powerful wind spell, launching them with as much haste as she could manage to Owain's side.
It was only a few moments before the first of them once more materialized behind her. Fie! Damn these worthless weaklings! Once more, one by one they were sent to their deaths. Ranni realized she was sobbing, with each blow to her consort and her brother it became harder to contain her spiraling hysteria.
A huge wave of sand erupted as Radahn launched himself high into the sky. No… no, he wouldn't! Owain crawled to his great shield, bracing himself on what appeared to be his one good leg. Ranni was in the midst of casting a sorcery to rip him to her when he spotted her, shaking his head with a bloody smile. His handsome face was barely recognizable and he was plainly missing a few of his teeth. He offered a weak thumbs up as the frightful spell that was Radahn's descent to the earth lit up the night as bright as day.
Ranni wailed, clenching her fist in agonized fury. Blast! She would trust that Owain had a plan. She swiped at her tears that she might not miss what happened next. Even with rapt attention, the collision of both men into each other and then into the base of the cliff that led to the fortress happened so fast that she almost could not track it.
The magnitude of such an impact left a long scar upon the earth, walls of sand soaring scores of feet into the air on either side. The stone of the fortress shook with viscous force and all the onlookers that were earthbound fell to their backs. Ranni flew with frantic panic to the newly formed crater in the side of the fort's foundations. She must find them, they surely needed aid!
Curse this wall of dust! She blasted it away with a furious hand. The sight that awaited her tore a harsh gasp from her chest. The mangled entanglement of her brother and consort lay in a pool of writhing scarlet blood against the far end of the depression. "Owain!" She screamed, throat ragged. She flew to their side with speed yet unknown to her.
Ranni's hands were shaking to such an extent that she almost could not command them to go to her beloved's face. Radahn was silent save for lumbering breaths of uneven length; asleep then. His great form was curled atop Owain's in a macabre mockery of an embrace. Owain's lone remaining eye cracked open at her arrival. He tried to speak but seemed surprised when only blood poured from his mouth. "St-star." He said finally. Every breath he took was a rattling gasp, he was dying and they both knew it. "Lo-love." He coughed up yet more blood, dark and unfilled with life. "You." He needed healing but there was no time! Therolina was buried under the sand somewhere and Owain would be dead within seconds!
Ranni's mind was racing a million leagues every moment. "Hu-hush, my Sunbeam." She dragged in a breath through a rising sob. "I'll mend thee ye-yet." What could she alone do? What magic could she pull from the ether? How! How could she save him?"
Owain tried to smile but his face would not contort through the swelling. He shakily offered her his hand, the fingers broken to a one; Ranni wept openly as he laid bubbling lips to her palm saying one last, broken, word. "Re-t-turned." The enchantment that mother had cast on his eyes flickered and died. That spell fed off his lifeforce, if such a small thing could not be sustained, she truly had no time left. Ranni bared her teeth, but there was no one to curse but herself. Argh! Fuck! If only he yet had his grace!
His grace!
She would force the dark moon out of his body. Banish it with more cursed gold! Better the devil they knew than a cold death. She had hypothesized it would not be able to suppress the power of more than one great rune, it was now time to put that to the most dire of tests. There was no time to waste! She brought forth all her mana to bear, readying magic that none save the Lunar Princess of Caria could perform, she would steal a rune! Owain would forgive her for this too, he must. Ranni stood, laying a trembling hand to her brother's back with peerless focus. She could feel its power, its raw vitality. Radahn would not die from its extraction, he was wounded, but nowhere nearly to Owain's extent. She would tend to her ailing brother when she was sure her husband was not to die.
The spell was quick, quicker than most would think. It had to be, to steal a rune from the old dog. In a blinding flash of magic she stole clean Radahn's great rune and slammed the still empowered thing into her consort's too still chest. It slipped beneath his jutting bones all too slowly. Ranni could hear distant yelling, could hear others slowly converging upon their position; but she blocked them out. The only sound she need focus on was the weak rasp of Owain's breaths. To distract her racin' mind she counted her own rapid heart beats. This had to work! It had to! She could not go back to the cold, to the dark. It spurned her now.
The light started soft. A dim faintness of amber behind the eyes. Blissfully, blessedly the light began to shine with searing intensity. Owain's head, long lulled to Radahn's shoulder, snapped back with resounding crack against the wall. The burning, blinding light of his grace given eyes flared forth with such intensity she could see the bones beneath his skin. She could see them begin to mend! Ranni watched in silent amazement as her husband's skin began to close, as his limbs righted themselves, as his breath came stronger and more even. He…he was reviving!
Ranni roared out her victory, loosing a ragged cry of defiance against the cowardly Dark Moon, against any who would dare try to take her hearted-half from her.
The next few hours passed in an unintelligible blur for her. She felt mother's gentle hands against her cheeks, felt her magic as they were carried from the field of battle. She heard the low murmurs of Blaidd, the worried mutterings of Iji. Ranni said not a thing, never leaving the side of her yet to wake husband and brother.
For the first time in too many years, Ranni relied instead of those who loved her to see them through the day, not her own tired hands.
Rennala felt the onset of a legendary headache. One son lay dying from rot, the other glowed with such fervid golden light, the room appeared as midday even as the moon shone steady outside. She'd sent Ranni to bed with a powerful sleeping drought, courtesy of Tricia. Though, only after inspecting with intense focus, the girl's memories of the battle. To transfer a still empowered rune, oh what foolishness! Rennala pinched her brow with her fingers, breathing slowly through her nose. "Moongrum." She called softly.
"Yes, my queen?" The man knelt at the door.
"Wake Miriel; Miriam too. We've work to do." After her knight left, Rennala sat softly on the two melded cots her gentle Radahn slumbered on. She had not examined him too closely as they'd brought all three of her children to the manor. Rennala was…hale now, but wary of falling once more into madness.
Tricia and her team of perfumers had done the best they could at dressing Radahn's many wounds, but the rot pervaded all. Even now she watched his many bandages turn a curdling pink, she needed to move swiftly. They had not planned on bringing Radahn here until he had been restored, had not planned on stalwart Owain being so spectacularly beaten. Her reunion with her children was hardly a happy one. Though to even see Radahn again was a bittersweet joy. The queen rested a feather soft hand on her son's over-hot brow, holding back the tears that mutinied behind her eyes. She'd never let him die, not now. Before she left, she pressed a lingering kiss to his bandaged cheek.
The ritual had failed thrice. Rennala let not her growing panic show; let not her waking mania slip. They would save her son, they would. She need only divine why the spell she had already refined and mastered was faltering now. "What are your thoughts, Miriel?" Her voice was harsher than she'd intended.
The ancient tortoise wobbled slightly on unsteady legs, she would feel poorly for pushing him so in any other situation, but not now. "The rot clings not only to his body, but to his soul as well it seems. A soul that is perhaps too powerful for the average tarnished's body to house."
"You did not encounter this issue with Princess Ranni or Lord Morgott then?" Miriam questioned while leafing through Ranni's notes.
"Owain's bloodline is ancient, powerful beyond the norm; the man was far from the average tarnished. The spell wast all the more tightly wound through their close bond of many centuries." Rennala huffed in annoyance. "Morgott himself was willing in this, and aided in the transfer. His soul was easily cleaved from the influence of the crucible, he'd already sealed it away and apart." The three were silent in contemplation, the air of the room heavy.
A damning thought struck Rennala as she inspected the rot that still spread from her son's body. She took a long, wavering breath, blood dripping from her tightly clenched fists. Woe, such heartbreak would she need endure to ensure her son's revival. "Tanya! Linde!" She called.
"My queen!" They said in unison from their place at the entryway of Ranni's tower.
"Fetcheth for me, the remnants of Wain's armor and weapon. Seekest too, the most powerful of his sentinels in the magical arts. Swiftly as thou canst." As the two knights sprinted towards the portal stone they had placed in the main courtyard, Rennala called too, for Moongrum. "Bringest Tricia and all her assistants, Iji as well. I've a hypothesis to test; though I am sure already of its conclusion."
While Miriel rested, Rennala began her preparations with Miriam. The preceptor was looking at her in comical shock as she doffed her robe. "My-my queen! I do not understand!" Rennala peeled off her gloves as well, there was bloody work that needed doing and her robes would hinder her. She was left with only her thin undershift and wrappings, hair bound tightly in a quick braid.
"The rot wouldst cling to the cloth and I'll not let any other perform mine part in what must be done. Go now, sendest thee for more of the tarnished prisoners, a score at least, heavily bound." Her old friend sputtered for a few moments before she too, ran to do as she bid.
Rennala was left with only the corpses of their past attempts and her mutely writhing son. Owain would surely mourn the loss of his armor and weapon but she was sure he would forgive her. They were the purest of unalloyed gold, purer far beyond any of his men's, and she needed such a rare metal in spades now.
When at last all the pieces were put aboard, the queen slapped her cheeks lightly. She yet lived, she breathed, she held power undeniable. Time to do her duty. Rennala waved a hand, knocking the many squirming tarnished incognizant. Her knights, Miriam, Iji, and Miriel watched her with something approaching fear. "Iji, breakest thee down that unalloyed gold, make for me many great spikes, thin, so as to pierce flesh with ease."
"Aye, my lady." The troll said quickly, gathering up all the pieces he could before rushing off, Linde followed behind with what Iji could not grasp.
Her eyes snapped to Tricia, who was rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Rennala was sorry to her now good friend, that she had stolen so much rest from her. "Tricia, prithee, cast as many incantations of warding and purifying on these tarnished and on mine son as thou canst. As potent as is possible. All thee sentinels as well." The perfumer and a recently roused Oswald nodded tiredly before they and their many aids began jointly casting incantations with great fervor.
"How may I aid you, my queen?" Miriam said softly at her shoulder.
"Focus thee on regaining thy magic, this coming spell shall steal much from us."
Iji, being as skilled as he was, returned only a short while later, arms laden with a great crate of golden spikes. Rennala nodded to herself, she must begin; the perfumers were beginning to flag. She handed the sword that held such odd properties of sleep to Miriam. "Activate its enchantment against mine son's brow, dare not stop until all is done. He must not wake before this rite is complete." The perceptor nodded resolutely before rushing to Radahn's head, laying the flat of the blade against his furrowed brow and infusing her magic into it.
Rennala blinked at the sleep spell, it was…better that it was so potent. "Iji! To me!" The trolled made his way carefully to her side, crate in hand. "When I put forth my hand, placeth a spike in mine grip. Do not-" She choked back a surprised sob with a scowl. "Dare not falter."
"Yes, my queen." the old councilor murmured.
"Miriel, begin the spell, and do not stop. No matter what." She knew her gaze held too much weight, she knew her voice was colored with too dark and rising an intensity. She could not help it, but it would not stop her.
Rennala would always do what must be done for her children, no matter what.
She began at her son's feet. To drive so many shards into her beloved child was torture of the most hienous sort. Alas, it was her only hope. Every spearing shard of gold quelled more of the writhing rot, and there was so very much of the rot to combat. The sentinels began to chant, beseeching their horrible goddess for fortitude. Rennala would rather break her own fingers than hear that woman's name but she could not be distracted now.
Even as she covered her son in weeping wounds of searing gold, she cast her own portion of the spell. Countless memories of Radahn flooded through her still healing, fragile mind as she fought desperately to maintain clarity of thought. Hopeful, innocent eyes; the shy smiles he showed she and his father. The first time he had successfully mastered a spell. She speared another stake of gold through the skin of his hip.
"To love thee is a gift most divine, Rennala." Radagon's voice spoke lovingly to her.
She pierced once more, their beautiful child's skin. "To be loved by thee is a dream I hope to never wake from." She muttered absently, mindless of the tears that spilled onto her blood soaked hands.
"Mother, I do not understand, but surely father will deny Queen Marika. His love for you is absolute!" Oh Radahn, were it so that every man's soul was as noble as thine. Most of the perfumers had collapsed now, Tricia herself was kneeling in focus.
Her son cried out in his sleep; she pierced the skin beneath his arm, the muscles between his bones, his wrists, his hands. "Your father has abandoned us." She whispered brokenly, trying to tear herself from the memories, but they clung just so tightly.
The shadows of her past spoke once more. "I will convince him to come home! Can not Owain speak to the queen? Ever has he had her ear!" Rennala began upon her son's other arm. Would that those sentinels stop their horrible prayers!
"Owain has tried, she is deaf even to his pleas, mine sweet boy." She breathed as she slammed yet another spike through her son's shoulder. The knights were calling out to her but she could listen to them; Rennala was not finished.
Her waking eyes saw it all; Tanya was sobbing, collapsed in a heap. Miriam too wept, tears lost in the purple haze of the shining blade. Miriel swayed on his feet, voice straining even as his eyes shone with determination. She saw the wretched rot in Radahn's body fighting her, battling the gold, warring with her spells. Her beloved baby's face contorted in supreme agony, caught in a nightmare with no waking. Her own sobs were heavy now, her chest heaving even as she focused her mana. Rennala lay Owain's spear head atop his chest as gently as she could. The most difficult part was now blessedly done.
The queen stumbled to her feet, retching away from the ghastly sight of what she'd done. Moongrum steadied her with low words of reassurance but she must not heed him; must not stop her spell. She grasped feebly for her staff. Iji availing her of it. Rennala's gaze found the rows of captured tarnished. They shone brightly with countless layered spells of terrible gold. Almost done, almost there. She reached for their souls, ripping them from their bodies without remorse; tossing them into the ether.
Almost.
Almost there.
With a growling scream she loosed all the weight of her magic. Legends had been writ of her, myths of her fantastical power, they did not near do her justice. Rennala, Full Moon Queen of Caria; severed clean, her son's soul from his rot infested body. She held it there in her hand, suspended for an eternal moment, ensuring it was full shrived of the pestilence.
Chanting at last, the spell's ending, she forced the bodies of the many into the enmeshed form of the one; forced the soul of a man who could have been a god into the flesh of those created by her greatest enemy. She molded the mass, achingly gentle, impossibly tender. Able now, to pour forth her boundless love for her son, she lost herself in the power of her own great rune. Crafting for her child a body of utmost perfection. Untouched by rot, unmolested by wretched gold, this new form would be pure, would be free. Radahn would be free to choose a fate all his own, unbeholden to gods or demons or stars.
As she saw the restored body of her son begin to take its first breaths, Rennala finally let go of all her fears, all her regrets, all her lingering grief. She would forge anew the future for her family, force it into being.
She need only to rest. So weary was the queen, that she was sure she imagined the brilliant light that burst by the many windows.