Zaria stayed on the outskirts of the battle, slaying stragglers that tried to escape through holes in their defenses. As the morning wore on, it was obvious that while the cockatrice were fierce fighters, without their ability to shift they were no match for the dragons and other shifters.
The still-obscured sun lay high in the sky when two groups of dragon warriors shifted and took to the air, using their powers to divide sections of the cockatrice combatants and turn them toward awaiting allied troops to either side. Fires broke out as the fire dragons used their natural weapons against their prey. Smoke and the smell of roasting flesh drifted across the countryside.
It wasn’t until Zaria felt a darkness descending that she realized they had a big problem.
Cries of agony from some of their own troops reached her ears. She turned to find a dozen demons had joined forces, formed a circle, and were attempting to use their dark skills to take out shifters one at a time. Though weakened, combining their energies they still proved themselves a powerful force. Any fighter that reached the outer ring of their powers was struck down immediately. Orcs, humans, and ogres used the diversion to trap shifters between their physically greater force and the demons’ metaphysical one.
“Stribog! Svarog!” Zaria cried out. “Come here!”
Her two men finished off a huge orc they’d been battling and raced to her side. “What is it?” Stribog asked.
“Join hands, quickly!”
They did, and she focused the force of her powers into her men.
Goddess of All, please guide my way.
She closed her eyes and envisioned feeding all of her energies into her two men, to form a protective shield around them. Despite her earlier power surge, she realized the extended fighting had taken a greater toll on her than she first realized. Ignoring that, she thrust every bit of power she possessed into her men.
Releasing their hands, she screamed, “Go! Now!” They turned and attacked the demonic circle. As she sank to her knees, she lost sight of them as other shifters poured into the breach behind them.
The entire war now seemed centered on this battle. Shifters forced their way through behind Stribog and Svarog, with blood-covered swords hacking away at the dark forces.
Then she felt the first blow to her men, as if her own shoulder had been struck.
“Stribog!” she screamed. Another pain in her neck nearly made her black out as she felt his energy snap back into her.
“No!” She dug her fingers into the ground and struggled back onto her knees, desperate to get to her men. Several shifters surrounded her, facing out and protecting her from attack, but blocking her view of the nearby struggle against the demons.
Then, just as she’d nearly regained her footing, she felt a pain in her gut as Svarog fell. Her visceral scream rent the air as she collapsed to her knees again, driven down by the force of Svarog’s energy also rebounding into her.
Fortunately, it seemed the two men had done enough damage to the demons’ cabal that the other shifters were able to break them apart and began slaughtering them.
Zaria’s heart and mind shattered. Sitting back on her heels, she looked to the heavens and let out an echoing, thundering roar of rage and grief that stopped everyone in their tracks. She raised her hands to the heavens.
“Goddess Above,” she screamed, “I give my all! Take from me, make our enemies fall!”
Zachary used the distraction to run his sword through a human that stank of the cockatrice before turning to view the brilliant light emanating from Zaria. It flowed from her and spread out amongst the warriors, striking dead their enemies while leaving their allies untouched.
A high, keening wail of anguish rolled from her like the scream of the wind in a hurricane. The impact knocked him off his feet as he tried to make his way to her side. He looked around, trying to locate Stribog and Svarog. Then he spotted their still forms strewn amongst the carcasses of demons, cockatrice, and other dark forces.
After what felt like hours but was only a few minutes, Zaria let out a final, gasping cry. As the light flowing from her died, she collapsed to the ground. Stunned, he stared at her as their dazed comrades slowly climbed to their feet and began cheering when they realized all their enemies lay dead around them.
With a choked sob, Zachary stumbled to his feet and ran to his Goddess. He dropped to his knees beside Zaria’s still form. He felt her dying, her immense expenditure of powers saving them all, but ripping her apart without the dragons’ supporting energy to feed her.
He ignored the tears rolling down his cheeks as he gently cradled her in his arms, rocking her, brushing the red tresses from her forehead.
“Zaria,” he whispered, kissing her lips, her cheeks, her forehead. “Zaria, my sweet, beautiful Goddess. Please don’t leave me.”
Her eyes fluttered open as more pain rent him from the inside out. He ignored it as he stared into her gorgeous green eyes. “Did we do it?” she whispered.
He nodded. “You did it. You beat them. You saved everyone.”
“Not everyone.” Her eyes teared up. “I could not save…”
He choked back his sob. “They sacrificed themselves to save you. To save us all. You saved our people, Zaria. My sweet, beautiful Goddess. I love you.”
A faint smile curved her lips. He grabbed her hand and pressed it to his lips, kissing it.
“I love you, too, Zachary. I always will.”
He tearfully nodded. “In every life.”
“In every heart.”
“Forever,” they whispered together.
Zachary saw the shadow fall across them both but didn’t look up from Zaria’s face. He didn’t want to miss a single breath.
“Well done, my children,” Baba Yaga’s matronly voice softly said. “Rest, Zaria. Your job is done. For now.”
Zaria nodded and saved one last smile for Zachary. “Forever.”
He nodded, this time sobbing aloud. “Forever, Goddess.”
Her eyes fluttered closed. He was aware of crowds of cheering warriors running across the battlefield toward them, yet already he felt the end coming soon for him.
Baba Yaga knelt beside him as he couldn’t take the pain and grief anymore. With Zaria clutched to him, he fell to his side on the ground, screaming Zaria’s name as his tears flowed unabated.
“Zachary,” Baba Yaga soothed, “do not fret. This is not the end. This is only the beginning. From now until the next prophecy is fulfilled, she will be yours in every life. You are still, and always, her Watcher.”
He listened, but couldn’t quit crying. The agony in his heart and soul crushed him under its weight. How could he ever live without her?
He didn’t want to live.
“Shh,” Baba Yaga soothed, pressing a comforting palm to his brow.
He was vaguely aware of the King, bloodied but not mortally wounded, running up and pushing through the crowd with several of his knights. He pulled up short when he saw Zaria’s still form and Baba Yaga kneeling beside them.
“Is she…”
One of the knights placed a staying hand on his king’s arm. “Aye, Sire,” he sadly said. “She is at peace. I suspect brave Zachary joins her and her dragons soon.”
Zachary’s vision swam, colors fading as he stared at Zaria’s closed eyes. Sounds from the crowd faded out of his awareness until only Baba Yaga’s voice filled his ears.
“Fret not, Zachary. In every life until the next prophecy, she will be yours until she is reunited with her dragons. Even then, she will still be in your life. You are always her Watcher. I swear it.”
He was vaguely aware of Baba Yaga pressing his and Zaria’s hands together, as she had when they were babes. “You will always remember, in every life, although she will not until she is reunited with her dragons. So fret not and rest now, child…” He felt the warm tingle between his palm and Zaria’s as the last breath left him and his world went black.