Dark Prophecy - Quinlus 09

This week brought an earthquake and a hurricane! I hope that this chapter posts on time and I hope that you are still enjoying this story. Thank you to Cedar and Mokk for your help. As always, thank you to the Guild for being awesome and a special thank you to my Literary Angel, Mikothebaby. You are the best!

Nulli Para Ora

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Farimil couldn't bring himself to look down upon her lifeless body in his arms. When he returned to reality he was still screaming, and his throat burned from the force of it. His muscles still quaked, jerking his body with the force of sobs he couldn't release.

Somewhere along the way, he had dropped to the stone floor of the bathroom, still cradling her close. He conjured clothing for them to wear, not wanting her to remain uncovered in the cool air around them.

He had to go numb, that was the only way to save himself for now. I must finish this. He shut off all of his feelings as he held her weight in his arms. He still couldn't look at her, he wouldn't let his eyes see her without life in her body but he wouldn't let go of her either.

I must complete this task. He stretched his mind out as Iatia had before, searching the realm for the one he held responsible for the death of his child and now his wife. He was so focused, he didn't hear the sounds in the room with him at first.

What caught his attention was a change in the weight in his arms and he was immediately defensive, raising a magical barrier around both of them. His eyes shone with power and rage as they quickly scanned the room.

He found Rahiria kneeling in front of them as sobs took over her body. "What did you do? How could you do this?' She was screaming at him in pain while pounding her fists against the glowing barrier that he created. She needed to strike him; she was angry and hurt. She's gone! She wasn't supposed to die! "She was supposed to be safe with you!"

She punched the floor in her frustration, cracking the meticulously crafted, creamy stone, and forming a crater a bit wider than her fist. She needed her fists to connect with something other than his barrier and the floor was the most suitable and closest target. Knowing that it was still there didn't keep her from returning her assault against it.

Farimil stilled his power when he saw who had dared enter this now sacred space. He had been prepared to destroy whomever he found without question; but it was Rahiria and she was clearly grief-stricken. Her purple skin was gathered around her facial features in the midst of her cries. Cries that had now grown into wails as navy blue tears fell from her eyes.

Her shoulders quaked, and her leathery wings trembled as she released each long, loud, pained vocalization. The talons on her fingers bit into her palms without any acknowledgement of the pain. Hot golden blood began to flow from her punctures without so much as a flinch from the fury.

He couldn't bring himself to explain what happened. He didn't want to even acknowledge that she was really gone. It was difficult to even look upon the demon before him. Seeing her face, the grief, her body language.

All of these things were something he wanted to ignore. Acknowledging why she was so affected meant acknowledging that his wife was no more, and he wasn't ready for that yet. So he averted his eyes from the fury as she burned bright in the room, making the surrounding air heat and the stone of the floor and walls glow.

H e lowered his barrier and leaned his head forward, being careful of Iatia in his arms. He didn't know if he could bear the feeling of a shift in the weight of her, knowing that she was moving without life in her body. Feeling her being jostled about like a large doll felt like the worst sensation he could imagine.

Rahiria was crying almost hysterically. She didn't realize that the barrier was gone until her hands were about to strike his face. She looked at his blank expression and the way he positioned himself with a bit of shock. He wants me to read his thoughts? Understanding washed over her and she placed her hands on his head.

She saw everything as he had, the discussion regarding Hilla's life, and the pain that Tia felt when she reached beyond the realm in sadness. She never could deal with death. Rahiria's mind went back to their days in the Peace Corps.

A flash flood had swept through the village they'd planned to help hours before they had arrived. Before they even approached the outskirts, they came upon the corpse of an older man. His clothes had been ripped from his body and he lay there, naked and alone in the thick brown mud that was left when the waters retreated.

His stomach was beginning to bloat in the heat and flies had gathered as well as other insects. His mouth hung open, showcasing the swollen pink tongue inside. Eyes that bulged from their sockets looked out into nothingness.

Tia stared at him for so long before she began shaking and screaming. She cried as though he was her own father and she dropped to her knees in despair. She clawed at the mud next to him as she wailed, screaming out into the universe about how unfair it was that he had to die this way. She couldn't take her eyes off the horror of it all. It affected her so deeply, and she remained next to him almost like a knight keeping a vigil.

Rahiria had to ask for help to drag her away from his side. She cried for days and days afterward before she just stopped suddenly, blocking out the pain and trying to focus on something positive. It worked for a time but she started having nightmares, waking in the night trembling and silently weeping.

The memory haunted the fury as she recalled how long it took Tia to get over the scene. She ended up having a full meltdown when they happened upon a village after they'd had a skirmish with a rival clan. The invading clan had killed the elder's daughter by smashing in her head with a large rock.

The villagers didn't disturb her body as they all openly wept with their leader. Circling her still form on the forest floor, they stared and cried at the loss. It was clear that she was loved by everyone and it was also clear that all of the villagers felt the sting of her violent and senseless death.

The sight of the young girl's body with her unrecognizable head snapped Iatia's emotional and mental control, and she screamed before collapsing into the leaf litter. When she finally woke, she cried nonstop for days on end, not eating or drinking anything.

But she'd always come back. She'd always get better. Rahiria felt a pain in her heart at those memories. Seeing what Farimil had shared, she understood what had happened. If the deaths of those individuals cut her so deeply, feeling that multiplied by millions was too much for her to take.

It wasn't realistic to expect her to be able to bounce back from such a crushing blow. "She's always been sensitive to suffering, pain, death.... I just hope that she finds..." Her cries stopped her shaky voice from speaking. I hope that she finally finds the peace that she's always wanted to see.

The thought of saying the words out loud burned her throat. She didn't want this for her friend. She never wanted her to have to feel the weight of so much. As her protector, she did her best to save her from experiences like this.

She remembered the way she would scout ahead of her whenever possible, sometimes during the night while she slept. She was determined to keep her from seeing any other gruesome images of death. But how can you block out the realms? There's no way to blind her to all of it.

She wanted to figure out a way to keep her from feeling or seeing all of the negative things that happened in every realm. There just wasn't a way to shield her. Can there ever be a true peace? Rahiria admonished herself for thinking such thoughts. Tia, now you have me thinking of your tree-hugging hippie ideals! I'm a supposed to be a demon, not some bleeding heart fairy!

So much about her personality and outlook had been shaped by her time with her friend. She'd changed a great deal in her approach to many things all because of Tia. How could you leave me? How could you not even say goodbye? She felt cheated. The universe is worse for your loss. Her fist found its way to the floor again, creating another crater in the stone.

Farimil couldn't allow himself to grieve. He wouldn't, not now, not while he still had a mission to complete. He barely noticed the shaking of the ground beneath them as his mind focused on its task.

Rahiria had to place both palms on the floor to balance herself. "They have earthquakes here?" She could see that Farimil took no notice of what was going on around him, and she could feel tendrils of his power snaking out all around her. Has he shut down? What is he doing? She wasn't given much time to figure it out.

The breeze that blew over both of them startled the fury and caused the barrier to reappear from Farimil. Loud gasps filled the air before he turned to find his mother and father in the doorway.

"No! Farimil, no! It cannot be." Calisal's eyes immediately flooded with tears and she moved to her son's side. She too fell to her knees, the soft fabric of her royal dress pooled around her. The richness of the fabric in striking contrast to the position she was now in.

Farimil lowered his barrier and watched as his mother reached out and touched Iatia. It was more than he could handle, and he began to tremble again. I cannot... not yet. I must finish this! He pushed his feelings aside and moved his gaze away from his mother before he could slip into sorrow.

"How did this happen?" Baelavel was clearly distraught as he looked at his daughter-in-law's lifeless body in his son's arms. His mind tried to piece together what could have happened to her, how she could have possibly been injured so gravely.

He couldn't come up with a reason, and it grated on his nerves. I was never meant to look upon you this way, My Daughter. I wished only to see you in happiness. Never was I meant to see your body without life. Never! He could feel his chest shudder with the promise of the sobs that wanted to escape.

Farimil couldn't look at his father's face. If he saw sadness there too, he'd crack, and he couldn't afford to do that just now. He had to focus on more important things and he couldn't do that if he fell apart. It was so tempting to let the pain consume him as he felt her so unmoving.

"How did you know?" Rahiria's shaking voice cracked as she spoke. She couldn't think straight at the moment and she didn't know how the King and Queen of the Elvenarr managed to sense Iatia's death from so far away.

King Baelavel's voice trembled as he spoke. He could see that his son was barely holding it together and he had to stay strong for him right now. "The realms are falling out of balance. When we discovered this, we knew that the unthinkable had happened." His eyes were on Calisal as she stroked Iatia's hair.

He held his breath at the sight of them, his son, on the floor cradling the body of his beloved, and his wife kneeling before both of them, stroking Iatia's hair with tears rolling down her cheeks. The air around him popped and sizzled with his barely contained magic.

Anger and devastation danced through him all at once. Why did this happen?

"It is just as well that we all descend into darkness. Why should anyone live when she does not?" Farimil's words were etched with deep despair while his eyes glowed with ferocious power. He couldn't hold back the words. He understood well what his father spoke and he had no reason to care.

Queen Calisal was being physically pushed back by the waves of magic that were suddenly erupting from her son. "Farimil, still yourself!" She had never seen a site like him in that moment.

He created his own atmosphere of power that rippled and crashed around him. His face was contorted into a deep scowl while the glow in his eyes gained in intensity. His long braid began to float as it swished and swayed in the wake of the power that he generated.

Iatia's hair began to float as well, the dark strands lifted into the charged air that Farimil created. The hem of the light blue dress he created for her lifted, revealing the brown skin of her feet and lower legs.

"My Son, you must calm yourself." King Baelavel could feel Farimil's power increasing. He watched as he began to levitate, still holding Iatia close to him. He is losing himself. What has happened, My Son?

Farimil's power ignited the air around him with magic, and generated winds that swirled as a large orb of glowing air currents. Still floating, he turned slowly to his father. "There are two deaths that are directly linked to one being. I will end her life and then my own. To hell with the realms and everyone in them!" His voice was empty of emotions but filled with the power of his magic. Wait for me, My Amaru. I will soon be at your side again.

Rahiria and Farimil's parents never had a chance to respond. He disappeared leaving an almost hurricane force wind in his wake.

You always came back, Tia. Please come back!

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Darkness fell over the land, creeping slowly into everything until it appeared that the shadows themselves had come to life and merged in a hostile takeover. It was too dark for Dorn to use his maps any longer but he wouldn't need to.

He took a few deep breaths in the quiet night air, taking those moments to feel the winds, marking their directional shifts and allowing their coolness to soothe his nerves. He knew what he had to do, but he didn't have to enjoy it.

He was getting closer to his target and very soon, the lack of moonlight would be a friend instead of an enemy. Guide my path. Move with purpose. He focused his thoughts and pushed forward into the stillness that would soon erupt into chaos by his own hands.

He could see the fires of the village as he drew closer. They will not be able to see my approach without the light of the moons. It had been a long journey and the eclipse had finally stolen the light from the land. He had conserved as much energy as he cold by soaring on air currents so that he didn't have to work as hard. He was prepared and even had food for the journey, ensuring that he would have the stamina to do what was needed.

Even with all of his preparations, he was weary. He'd fought a mental battle with himself the entire trip. This duty continued to weigh heavily on him and all of his rationalizations weren't enough to take away the guilt that hung over him like a Sword of Damocles.

Now that he was so close, he settled on his opening attack. Pumping his strong wings, he cut through the powerful winds. Finding an updraft, he spiraled up into the darkness of the night sky. There is no turning back. I must protect the Harka, I must protect Wrana.

It was her face he saw in the darkness. Her love and the promise of their future that steadied him for what he must do. I cannot allow them to stand between us or to harm our people. He pictured her smile, her laughter, the way she always rushed to greet him.

He could see the villagers of the Harka tribe, the yearlings, the colts, the males and females. So many lives at stake, so much to preserve and cherish. These things are worth fighting for. They are worth dying for. I would die to protect you, Wrana. I will make this sacrifice to protect everything we cherish.

But he wasn't sacrificing himself. He was sacrificing the lives of others. He was going to kill those who had never raised a hand against him, who had never set foot in his lands or had the desire to. They would be helpless as they fell before him.

I live as a weapon now. I am the hand of deliverance for the Harka. I did not choose this path but it is one that I now reluctantly tread. All of the nameless faces that he would soon see filled his mind as a precursor to their demise. It was almost as though his feelings were playing against him in an attempt to save their lives.

This wasn't what he'd envisioned for his magic, but he rationalized that he had these powers for a reason. If they could be used to keep Wrana safe, to keep the Harka from harm, then he would wield them, even if it pained him to do so.

High above in the dark sky, he looked down on the village and planned out his opening move. I will face them. They will have the opportunity to see the face of their attacker. He wouldn't hide himself. If this was the end that they would meet, they would know their destroyer.

They would have the chance to look upon him in their last moments of distress. He would leave none to suffer. He didn't want that. He made a promise to himself in that moment to end their lives quickly, especially if he came upon any who were severely injured and still clinging to life.

He didn't like these thoughts, and the idea that he would be the last thing some of these Treyna would see stabbed at his gentle nature. I am not meant for such things. It is cruel that I was given these abilities to have them used in this way. It was then that he clung to his thoughts of Wrana. I would not trade their lives only to return to see hers ended.

He decided on attacking their great tree from the top down, believing that he could eliminate the leaders first, and keep the Treyna confused.

He held his hands in front of his chest and focused his magic, creating a glowing ball of energy, lighting the darkness around him and making himself visible to anyone who happened to look up. Tucking his wings to his body, he allowed himself to freefall while he aimed his attack. Strong winds whipped against him, but he kept his magic controlled.

He extended his arms as he fell and selected the house that he wanted to target. Forgive me Wrana, this is the only way. Releasing his magic, he prepared the next ball of energy as he watched the first hit its target. I must make them continuous. Splinters of wood and debris peppered the air in the wake of his magical affront.

The loud sound of wood creaking filled the air as part of the structure began to give way. He could see the fright filled faces of the Quinli inside as he descended, continuing his assault. Forgive me.

He began hurling the glowing orbs quickly, separating them and using both hands to toss the glowing spheres of destruction from the sky. He targeted the houses as he descended, raining destruction down one side of the tree before extending his wings and soaring. The sounds of snapping, popping and creaking wood accompanied explosions as he gained altitude.

He could hear screams pierce the night air and the raising of the alarm as he climbed back into the sky. They scream because of me. These calls of distress only served to cut into him, lacing him with regret and silent apologies. As he made his way past the top of the tree, on his journey back to the clouds for his next volley, he heard what he thought was a familiar scream.

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Thorin and Hilla were locked together in their joining, filling the air with the sounds wing beats and moans.

"Thorin, please!" She'd just had her third orgasm and didn't think she could take anymore. Feeling him rock into her, teasing the pleasure from her body, she felt as if her mind was leaving her. He was doing her in, and she gripped the table that had quickly become her best friend during their love play.

"Hold tightly, Tualla!" He flapped wildly as he moved faster within her, adding more force to his thrusts. His long moans announced the beginning of his release as he worked he over. To his surprise, he felt her inner muscles spasm around him, gripping him tight and wrenching away his last restraint. Liar! She spoke of no more. His mind laughed while his body fell apart.