Cruel Destiny

By Celebrian SilverQueen

Prologue

The ruins of the White Temple gleamed with the luminescence of pearls, vividly contrasting with the dark surroundings. Moonlight filtered through the treetops, casting a silver glow on the dewy grass and gnarled trunks. Overhead, the stars twinkled like tiny diamonds sprinkled on the black velvet sky.

The forest was eerily quiet. No chirping crickets, no hooting owls, no rustling leaves… There was no sign of life except for two people slowly making their way to the ruins.

One was an ethereally beautiful woman, with long wavy brown hair and wide blue eyes. Her pure white cloak was stained with blood and she was severely wounded.  She would have been unable to walk if her companion hadn’t been supporting her.

Her companion was a tall young man dressed in the crimson robes of the Fire Mages. Black hair peeped out from beneath the wide brim of his pointy hat, and hazel eyes narrowed in determination as they fixed on the ruins that were like slabs of moonlit ivory nestled amongst ebony and silver. He must get her there before it was too late…

He stopped in his tracks as the woman slumped against him with a tired sigh. “Selansis, I’m already very weary. I don’t think I can make it…”

“Don’t say that, Marsella!” cried Selansis. “The temple is near… just a few more steps… I won’t let you die, not after all we’ve been through. We won, Marsella! You can’t die now.”

“I-- I feel so faint…”

“I’ll carry you.” Gently he lifted her up in his arms and bore her to the ancient stone staircase. A sigh of relief escaped him once they went through the crumbling doorframe. She was safe now.

“See?” he said merrily as he lowered her to the ground. “We made it after all.”

Marsella smiled, leaning against a nearby rock. “Thank you for everything, Selansis.”

He blushed and knelt down in front of her. “I was happy to help. You don’t need to be grateful.”

“Oh, yes, I do,” she insisted in a light voice. And then the smile disappeared, followed by an expression of intense pain and a sharp gasp.

Selansis frowned, his brows knitting together in concern. She couldn’t die in a place as sacred as the White Temple, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t suffering from the wounds Lucio Welspring had inflicted on her. “Is there anything I can do to…” He trailed off when she shook her head.

“No. You’ve done enough for me. All we can do now is wait.”

“Wait for what?”

“Midnight.”

“Is that when your wounds will be healed?”

She hesitated for a while before answering. “No. Midnight is the time when I go back to Heaven.”

“What?” His exclamation of disbelief rang throughout the woods, shattering the tranquility of the atmosphere. “But… Marsella… you told me the magic in the ruins would heal all your injuries.”

Her lovely face was grave and her eyes were filled with sorrow. “You never would have taken me here if I had said otherwise. I have lost too much blood; there is no more hope for me if I were to remain in the world.”

“There is always hope! You proved that yourself. I’ll take you to the nearest healer…”

“Selansis, if you bring me out of the ruins now, I will die.”

The mage lowered his head. “Why didn’t you ask to be brought to a healer right after the battle?”

“The world no longer needs me. I have fulfilled my purpose. Lucio is dead. There is no reason for me to stay.”

“Yes, there is!” he argued vehemently. “Stay with me, Marsella. I need you.”

For a fleeting instant, her eyes widened and her face seemed to light up with happiness. But that look was soon gone, and in its place were the wisdom of the angels and the grief of one whose heart was breaking. “It’s too late,” she whispered shakily. “I won’t live if I set foot outside the temple. The choice has been made… Our fate has been decided.”

Tears streamed down Selansis’ cheeks. He didn’t bother to wipe them away and just let them fall to the cold stone floor. Taking off his hat and slamming it against the ground in helpless rage, he silently cursed himself for his hesitation. If only he’d told her sooner… There had been many chances in the past, but, fool that he was, he’d let them slip away. It had never occurred to him that it would end like this, that the time when he finally took the chance would also be the last time he saw her.

Marsella lay one slender white hand against his cheek. He met her gaze, his wet eyes like pools of muddy water shot with sunlight. “Don’t look so sad,” she chided him softly. “We won, remember?”

“I remember,” he said dully, for in his mind he could still see Lucio Welspring’s sword slicing across Marsella’s stomach. He could still hear the demon’s triumphant laugh, and then his piercing death cries as Marsella, using the last vestiges of her strength, drove her blade straight through his heart. “But it feels to me like a hollow victory. What good is winning if the price I have to pay is you?”

“How can you say that?” she demanded in a sharp tone he rarely heard from her. “Evil is vanquished; the people of the world will know peace again; the blood of husbands, brothers, sons, and fathers will no longer be shed everyday, and the women will no longer weep for their loved ones… We fought this war for three years, three hard years, and now that our goal has been achieved, you dare belittle it? You dare ask what good winning is?”

Stricken, the young man hung his head. “It’s just that… Marsella, don’t leave me!” he cried brokenly.

She wrapped her arms around him, wincing as she did so. “I’ll be watching over you,” she told him, tears shining in her sapphire blue eyes. “You’ll have your very own guardian angel. Won’t that be something to brag about in the pub during weekends?”

The involuntary bark of laughter her last comment elicited was choked off by another nerve-wracking sob. Selansis embraced her, careful not to touch her wounds, never wanting to let go.  They held each other, two hearts beating as one with the fervor of lovers about to be torn apart. Seconds passed… minutes… hours… Still they held on, not daring to speak, not daring to disrupt the magic of their turbulent emotions with clumsy words… The outside world, the horror of the Triduum War that had ended only today… all these were forgotten. For them there was only the temple shining underneath the light of the silver moonbeams shifting through the dark forest, the stars sparkling up above, and each other… 

Silence, broken only by occasional murmurs… and then a sob as midnight finally arrived on the wings of doom.

“It is time for me to go,” Marsella whispered, disengaging herself from Selansis’ arms. He moved to help her stand up, but she waved him off. “I can manage on my own.” She got to her feet with ease, no longer feeling the pain of her injuries as Heaven worked its unseen magic, and gazed at the night sky, waiting.

Selansis, still sitting on the ground, followed her line of vision. Through a break in the canopy of trees, he could see the stars and the moon, but nothing out of the ordinary.

And then one star began to burn brighter than the rest, gradually increasing in size and luminescence until it hurt to look at it and was as big as a man’s clenched fist. A strange, beautiful sound filled the air, a glorious, unearthly melody that caused every nerve in Selansis’ body to tingle.

“My fellow angels,” explained Marsella, “welcoming me home.”

Before the Fire Mage’s amazed eyes, a beam of pale pink light shone down from the star, encasing Marsella in its brilliant glow. He watched in wonder as the blood on her garments and skin faded away, as her cloak, shirt, and short skirt were replaced by a silvery blue gown with long, flowing sleeves and a plunging neckline, as feathery wings, scintillated with light, appeared on her back and unfurled, as her brown hair was fanned by an unnatural breeze. She was returning to her angelic form.

“Marsella…” She was lifted off her feet by an invisible force… the beam of light was pulling her back to Heaven… Unthinking, Selansis reached out and grasped her hand, wanting to bring her back to the ground, wanting her to stay…

Their eyes met, and his widened. Hers shone with tears, deep blue oceans of sorrow and love. “Don’t forget me,” she whispered, a single tear trickling down her cheek.

“I won’t,” he promised fervently. He released her hand, watching with a breaking heart as she drifted high above the trees, towards the burning star and, in a sudden flash of bright pink and gold light, disappeared. The angel music faded away, until it seemed no more than a distant dream.

Marsella Avelin, the Angel of Light, had returned to Heaven, leaving behind only memories and haunting thoughts of what could have been.