A painful wail carried across to them. Serona rode in, looking wild-eyed at the devastation. Her gleaming helmet fell to the ground as she dismounted and ran to him. She dropped and cradled his head in her hands with tears in her eyes.
"Alaric…"
"It is over, my solestra. The Banestone has taken me." Alaric tried to lift his arms, but they had already hardened; pitted and cracked like an ancient statue. He had no feeling in his legs and knew they were the same. "I am finished. Leave me."
Tears flowed freely down her cheeks. "No, my love. You cannot die. You cannot!"
Sunlight pierced through the cloud cover in golden streams as the Crafts he had weaved to hold them together completely unraveled. Alaric lifted his eyes. "So long since the glory of the sun has reached us here. I had forgotten how beautiful it could be. How beautiful you are when it touches you."
He strained mightily, tearing his arm from the ground to touch her tear-streaked face with a gritty hand.
"You have always been the light to me."
His fingers disintegrated before his eyes, and the deterioration followed down his arm. It collapsed into dust that floated in the same wind that spun multi-hued blossoms through the air. Their perfume lingered as he collapsed in Serona's arms with the sound of her weeping loud in his ears.
The last thing he saw was her floating teardrops, liquid diamonds suspended in time.
Chapter 70: Nyori
Tears slid down Serona's face as she kissed Alaric for the last time. He turned ashen, then cracked and pitted as an ancient stone statue. Even that faded as he crumpled to dust, streaming through her fingers as she wailed. She sagged forward with shuddering shoulders as the wind carried away the remains of the other half of her soul.
Nyori dropped her eyes. The scene was so tragic that it felt intrusive to witness. For a time nothing was heard but Serona's sobbing and the falling of flower blossoms.
Finally, she stood. The loathing that marred her face made Nyori's heart freeze in her chest. She hesitantly raised Eymunder, but the Geod did not respond. The backlash from the intermingled energies seemed to have drained the staff somehow.
Serona's focus was so intent on Marcellus that she didn't seem to notice. Her eyes smoldered like purple poison. "You." Her fingers hooked into claws. "You've taken everything from me."
Marcellus' voice was just a dry rasp. "Then at last, you know what it feels like."
Serona's eyes narrowed. "I said you would regret spurning my offer. I shall keep my word." She raised her hand. The air in front of it rippled. Nyori moved to shield Marcellus from the blast.
A whistling sound was followed by a dull thunk. Serona grunted and staggered back several steps from the force of the arrow that pierced her breastplate. Her eyes widened as she looked around. "Who dares…?"
Another arrow whistled through the dense smoke and sunk into Serona's stomach. She doubled over, gripping the feathered shaft with a shriek of enraged pain. "Show yourself, you coward!"
In answer, another arrow struck Serona just below the shoulder. Crimson stained her armor as she groaned and slowly fell to her knees.
A hooded figure stepped from the smoke with a longbow in hand. The black cloak blew back, revealing a snug leather vest and breeches, soft boots, and a billowy white silken shirt. The gloved hand reached up to pull back the cowl, revealing a woman's alluring face.
"Masiki. You…you are the one behind all of this." Blood bubbled on Serona's lips. "You're…supposed to be dead."
"Truly?" Masiki raised a questioning eyebrow as she casually leaned on her bow. "Death is a useful shield to operate behind. No one looks for you, or figures you into their plans." Her smile was as beautiful and deadly as a dragon's eye.
"Don't bother trying to pull out the arrows. They are barbed and laced with poisons almost as deadly as Banestone. You must know this, for they are no doubt already taking effect. You will feel nothing, I promise you. Already you are being driven to an endless sleep."
Masiki ignored Serona's baleful glare as she bent to pick up Mothros. She lifted the weapon to the light. "You Co'nane never did understand that you were just tools the entire time. More the pity."
She stood as if to go, but paused to look at Nyori with a half-smile.
"Still, better to be safe, wouldn't you say?"
She twirled Mothros with a flourish. The blade hummed as she struck Serona's head from her shoulders.
As the remains disintegrated into grainy dust, Masiki shouldered the blade and knelt next to the barely-conscious Marcellus. Nyori tried to move, but she was frozen as though turned to stone like Alaric. Masiki's presence was overpowering, smothering everything around her.
She gazed at Marcellus without expression. "How strange that so fragile a shell could have been a vessel of such power that all the Sects feared. Yet his warding is broken, and he will die, Shama. Unless you allow me to heal him."
She raised her eyes. Nyori could not help but shiver at Masiki's gaze. It was like being stared at by a mountain or a lightning storm. There was something ancient and inhuman behind her eyes.
Masiki never blinked. "Choose wisely, Shama. Your champion can die now and finally rest in peace, or you can bind to me and use my power to repair his damage. The choice is yours."
"I choose to heal him," Nyori said.
Masiki laughed softly. "No hesitation. No consideration of the ramifications. So typical of your kind. Very well, Shama. Give me your hand." She removed her glove and extended her hand expectantly.
Nyori felt an inexplicable sense of dread. "Why can you not heal him yourself?"
Impatience flickered across Masiki's face. "The warding is yours, Shama. I cannot alter it without being linked to you."
Nyori hesitated, staring at Masiki's hand as though it were a live serpent about to strike. At the last second she desperately wanted to recoil, to snatch back from what felt like a trap door about to slam shut. But their fingers converged, sealing off any indecision. Masiki's touch was cold as death, her grip viselike. As they clasped hands, both Eymunder and Mothros flickered with light. The Glyphs on Nyori's arms blazed.
She gasped. It was like binding to a maelstrom. She felt the sheer power that Masiki possessed, a tempest of mingling energies that were beyond Nyori's comprehension. She felt like a leaf buffeted by storm winds. Her tight grip on Eymunder was the only thing that kept her anchored. The staff effused with light, the amber orb flashed bright gold. Nyori understood with sudden clarity that Masiki was not human. She was not even Aelon.
She was something beyond.
Masiki planted Mothros in the earth and traced intricate runes across Marcellus' chest with her fingers. The skin underneath glowed as the Glyphs reformed. Another Glyph glimmered as well. A single character flashed like a sizzling brand across Marcellus' forehead before fading into his skin. Nyori opened her mouth but was cut off by Masiki's words.
"It is done. Marcellus Admorran will not die today. He still has much to suffer before he claims that reward."
Nyori felt the chill of the harbinger at Masiki's words. She spoke as if reading the face of the future. As if her words were unfulfilled prophecy.
Masiki smiled as she stood with Mothros glimmering in her hand. "Farewell, Shama Nyori. Enjoy whatever peace you can find in the eye of the storm. It will not last, I promise you that. Keep Eymunder safe with you this time. It will not do for it to fall into Aelon hands again. It will be needed again very soon."