บท 56: Tiamat
"I am useless," Ella whispered to herself within the arms of Zireael, pressing her small doll-like head into the heart of his small frame, tears cascaded down her cheeks like rain, "Sionn almost died, and Aurelia was almost killed."
Remaining silent, Zireael brought her towards the center of the crypt where Aurelia and Sionn laid still.
Seeing her fallen comrades, the whimpers of Ella grew deep with somber, "I just want to be strong... I am just useless." She cried out, clenching his Jerkin. "Zireael, please... Please help."
Releasing a heavy sigh, memories of snow appeared within the young Lord's eyes. He could see its silver blanket, chilling touch, and grant grace. He could feel the ever-present love it yet, as he gazed into the silver snow, a hint of ruby red began to appear, spreading till all that remained was a pool of icy blood.
Resting Ella near Aurelia, her saddening echoes of cries continue to resound. Rising to his feet, he sighed, "Than Kill Ella." He solemnly declared, "Kill and kill till all that is left is power. I will not say to find your power within because that's bullshit. Power is taken, not earned.
Lifting her head high towards the shadow of the Young Lord that appeared lonelier than the darkness, Elle held her breath as he continued, in a deep metallic voice, "You say you want to be strong, not feel helpless like you do now? Then steal that power, take it all. Dominate your enemies till all that is left is ash. Smight that innocent air to you and walk the path of blood, for only they are the ones who live free."
Not daring to speak, Ella could only breathe once the echoes of Zireael's steps sounded off in the distance. Petrified by his words, she looked down at her hands stained with Aurelia blood only to repeat his words, "Power is not earned, but taken?"
Making his way across the battlefield covered in destruction, Zireael stopped before a noble gave engraved with a single name, "Fal'Tor" It read. Tracing his hands over the word that seemed to have stood perfectly unchanged and untouched for countless years, he looked up towards the silver dragon towering over him.
"A hero, huh?" Zireael mockingly uttered towards Tiamat, "The Path of a hero will always lead to this. For what he lost, what did he gain? Was it worth it?"
Shifting his eyes back towards the untouched grave, his lips grew into a grand grin. Pushing off the top cover of the tomb, a deafening echo resounded, shaking the ground. Unable to take his eyes off what lay before within the grave. Zireael saw a perfectly formed dragonkin with golden scales covering his entire body. His face was as cold as the dead, carrying no warmth within. The man formally known as Fal'Tor was dead.
"COOO COOO COOO!!!" The little owl upon Zireael's head, who had been oddly enough silent, rang like bells leaping off its master's head towards the Dragonkin below. Catching it with his arms, the young Lord shook his head.
"If you must feast, do it on the spider. Tiamat gifted this man a crypt. We may steal, but do be respectful enough to leave the body intact. We are not enemies with this Dragon God. Ok?"
Flapping its arms, Coo's beady eyes glimmered with a heavy mist within Zireaels palms. Glancing down towards Fal'Tor, and back to Zireael, it pouted, releasing a whimpering coo.
"Yes, Yes, just go with the spider. And if we find a beast that suits your taste, I promise I will hunt it for you! K," Zireael promised, tossing the little owl high into the air.
"COOOO!!!"
Watching coo guide towards the still corpse of the Valmitotarmis Spider, he chuckled before growing a bit solemn before the grave he was facing.
Holding his stare at the empty coffin that laid only Fal'Tor, with a faint edging of writing along the inner edges. Holding his stare upon it for a while, Zireael frowned, "I do not speak dragons tongue ."
"The Bestowal of a Gift must be earned." The heavy, almost androgynous voice of the towering dragon resounded, yet only Zireael seemed to be aware.
Taking a step back to receive a full view of the dragon with seven heads, Zireael cuffed his hands once more, "Tiamat? I did not think you would still be able to perceive reality."
"I regained some freedom due to your actions. Many did." She thankfully uttered.
"So my infamy has already spread?" Zireael mocked, arching his lips in condescension.
"Indeed it has. But you seem to be able to laugh still and joke. A Miracle if I had ever seen one." She told, with her crystal eyes glistering with proudness.
Neither smiling or waving her off, Zireael remained silent in the face of her words. Holding her intent filled with mystery upon the Young Lord, she asked, "I want you to free me."
"Master asked the same thing of me. I already loosened your seal with my foolish actions within Iluthath. Why should I do more?"
"For many reasons, my friendship with your master and mother." She faintly replied, knowing she had thrown out the right bait solely by noticing the seething flames beginning to build within the depts of his silver eyes.
Taking a deep breath to quell the burning rage, Zireael closed his eyes, opening them towards Aurelia, covered in Ella's bandages. "Help her, and I will help you."
"Helping her was always my intent. But what I truly want is to help you for a price, of course. Your mother, before I fell, was a close and dear friend." Tia softly hummed with the dimming of the crystals within her eyes. "Help me out, and I will help you out. Vengeance is not something that will fade, not for us."
"What would you have me do?" He asked, having made a decision. Tia was never an enemy, to begin with. Her actions, however, did have Zireael on guard. After all, what god didn't have bodies under their belt.
"Nothing. For now, at least. Study my history, and learn of my past. Make your decision to help me then. I am no fool, boy. Betrayal runs deep within my blood, and I shall not have it stretch further than I wish it. Learn from my lessons. But for now. I will award a single treasure to each of you for passing this trial. It was Fal'Tor's wish should he die.
Cuffing his hands, the glint within the eyes of the statue faded, and with it the intent of Tiamat. Holding his hands together for a while, Lord Blackwater approached the tomb of Fal'Tor in silence.
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