24

  “I understand now.” Hera quirked.

  The sun faded away into the dead of night. The cast of a cold winter still overlapped the spring season. The stone walls around Belkos were heavily guarded with soldiers shaking from the blistering cold and fear of the rising Diborn army. Hera looked down from the highest tower of Belkos at the silent curfew around the campus. She sat upon her open window as she could see the wards she created all those years ago crack behind the stars in the sky. Her hands clutched together as a faint breath stalled her response.

  She turned back to her dark office with precision and grace. “What your father said all those years ago is true then. And here I called him mad.” She smiled, but she wasn’t happy. Her expression faded into a cast of regret, reeling in with doubt. Omar remained beside the desk; though he wouldn’t stand, he leaned on it. He shifted in curiosity scuffing the wood floor lightly.

  “Mother, you knew of this?” He began, hesitant at first, he tested the tense airs. “Why haven’t they been repaired after all this time?”

  Hera’s eyes were sharper than his sword, despite her years lifted from any battle. She regarded her son with concern. “There are things you may not understand.”

  “Then help me explain.” Omar raised himself up. “Leonidas will not stop hunting our family. He isn’t the catalyst of all this, Dragni is. The man who took away – “

  “Enough!” Hera screamed out. Her voice lowered. “Enough. Please.”

  “No, I want to understand.” Omar interrupted. He moved from the desk to the other side of the window, pointing to the courtyard. “If there is something you are not telling me. Do so now, mother. People are dying, some already have. If we have the power to stop these monsters, then tell me why we haven’t already.”

  Hera’s words passed by Omar. He was as determined as ever. Her gaze softened seeing a group of mages guarding the perimeter pass by the empty courtyard. Hera settled herself, grasping at a ruby necklace that shined in the moonlight.

  “You remind me of your father. The man I once married. That fire, I have seen it so many times, it is our bloodlines curse. Too ambitious for our own good. The urgency to put the whole world on your shoulders. Its scary.” She sighed.

  “But, I cannot help you. For if I do, I will have one less son in this lifetime.”

  Omar blanked. He shook his head, but Hera nodded. “If I even try to stand against the Specters with you, all I am doing is delaying the inevitable. The wards of Belkos are fortified, but raising the entire Pale’s wards is a lost cause. We would just be locking them in this realm with us. With no one capable of defeating them.”

  Omar stood dazed and confused, hesitant for a moment, he studied his mother. Dread and fear swirled around her cheeks. Her hands grimaced and clawed under her necklace at her shoulders. Omar broke his silence. “Why would no one be here?” Omar asked.

  From her desk, Omar snatched the manuscript Natasha transcribed. He explained it all to her. His alliance with Shay, Leonidas and his rivalry, and the Specters plans from what Dragni told him. It all shook Hera to the core, but more was beneath the skin of the issue. She shivered at the thought of another.

  “The name Elysium. It isn’t a place or a person. It’s a weapon. A holy one from the heavens.” Hera took the manuscript and explained briefly. She flipped through some pages, using her magic to create a gold projectile of a sword identical to the Lotus Blade. This one’s eyes was golden and white, feeling a person with hope, not darkness. It was its brother. Hera rubbed her projectile, as she pushed it towards Omar. “Your father called it the Blade of Elysium.”

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  “The Blade of Elysium?” Omar repeated. “So what it is like a powerful weapon that can defeat the Specters. Swords are nothing but steel.”

  Hera stopped Omar. “It is the blade, the goddess Altira created to destroy the Lotus Blade. Only one person in the entire history of Eurafalia has been able to hold it. And that man died to stop the Lotus Blade from continuing its reign.” She explained. “It is also how we raised the wards of every realm, my child. Without it, my magic isn’t enough to save the Pale.”

  “Raising the wards takes more than a flick of a wrist. A weapon for a deity is needed, and we lack that weapon, and a deity to hold it.” Hera sternly turned away. Her lips pressed together unable to cope with her thoughts.

  “Then, I will be its deity.” Omar commanded. Hera’s heart sunk. Her head fell down a chimney of emotion, as she was afraid he would say those exact words. She couldn’t look at her son. Guilt flooded her heart, and her mind was in a waging war.

  “We have the location. All we need to do is grab it.”

  Hera didn’t speak any further. For a moment she paused, as Omar called her. “My child.” Omar stopped himself. Hera turned to her son taking his hand. “No Diborn can hold the blade.”

  Realization set in. Omar sighed in disgust, understanding the truth of it all. He leaned forward with urgency. “Why not…?” Anger filled his frustration.

  Hera’s eyes watered. She covered her mouth, breaking down in utter heartbreak. Omar held her tightly as she hugged him before she could say anymore. “It’s a losing battle my child. Just stop.”

  Omar bitterly bit his lip and grunted. “No.”

  Hera remained silent, understanding in this moment the weight of her words pressed heavily on her heart. The fire inside of her leaked out, crackling softly, as the room around them looked to have caved in. Finally, she exhaled deeply, though a decision finally had to be made.

  “To raise the Blade of Elysium and its wards, one must be held with a purifying soul. A person who is capable of being the perfect human in the eyes of the gods.” Her voice was quiet, but spoke volumes out loud. “If you were to touch Elysium, the power of the gods would annihilate you. You would perish into a grain of ashes, being dismembered as nothing more than a demon would.”

  It felt like a blade went through his chest, but Omar didn’t flinch. “I care not of the price, I have to pay. If even for a glimmer of a second you can raise the wards to save our realm, then it will be a price worth paying.”

  Hera let go of Omar, staring at him for a long moment, unable to read Omar. With a slow deliberate motion, she walked away to the window, seeing the perfect night sky stare back at her. The weight of his words carried into the night, hanging on her by a thread. She stood in denial. After a moment of awe, Hera turned to her soon shaking her head.

  “I cannot lose another child.” She whimpered. “But I know you will not give this up. Will you?”

  A clock ticked inside of Omar. His chest sank with a loose feeling of pain he had not felt in ages. His face narrowed and the gates of a river flooded in. “You have the heart and soul of a true King. This curse doesn’t define your life.” She promised her son, pulling a small locket from her necklace. A locket of Darius Marshall, the worlds last chronicler.

  She closed Omar’s hand, but his eyes finally opened. “In the world of hallucination, in the room of familiarity, you should find all I left you. Your father’s words to me long ago, for when the moment arrived to give this to you.” Water poured down his face like a river. He didn’t appear sad, nor did he sniffle. Omar cried without letting out any emotion. The curse of a Diborn leaving a haunting image on his face. Omar looked down at his hand, the necklace held a key beside the end of the chain.

  “Your father told me a story long ago.” She sniffled. “That one of our children would rise to make an ultimate sacrifice, for the good of man. I always hated his stories, cause they were of him telling me the future.”

  Omar stepped closer to his mother, his voice steady. “I must do this. This is my redemption. Whatever the cost, the world will not suffer cause of me. I will bring one moment of joy for this realm.”

  “I know…” Hera began to accept the man in front of her. It no longer wasn’t her son, but the Pale’s Diborn who prepared for his final journey. The weight of her magic weaved through the air emotional. A sacrifice to stop the impending darkness. Omar stood beside Hera, watching the perfect night sky shine upon them. The bittersweet atmosphere echoed with the resonating future dawning upon them. Outside the walls of Belkos, the first true storm of the Pale thunder clapped on the horizon.

  “So save the Pale, my child.”