Eudaemonia

AN – Well, this is the end of the story. I’d just like to take a moment to thank everyone who’s read it, everyone who’s reviewed it, and everyone and everything that’s inspired me to complete it. This is only the first edition of the story - it is to be revised, rewritten and self-published later on this year…I’ve really enjoyed writing this story and I hope you’ve enjoyed reading it. Amen to that.

Epilogue

The eudens dropped to their knees, cries of praise echoing around the dust-laden landscapes of Corona. King Drago descended the slopes of the palace, the people turning to follow him as he walked with authority towards the city’s dwellings. This day he was to light the peoples’ candles himself, and they would burn past the ‘evening curfew’ for the next three days in celebration of their new King. There was not a soul in Eudaemonia that night that did not have something to celebrate. The passing of Chaythe had been briefly mourned, but all but forgotten about upon the return of their princes from the nightmare on Earth. During their absence, the people of the Three Islands had waited with baited breath, the news of the princes’ disappearance coinciding with the arrival of three familiar faces in faraway Fentia.

Chaythe had been found by his sons in the throne room, gourds of wine in pieces on the floor around him. Upon returning to the palace, the brothers had immediately set out to find their father and Stella, turning each room inside out, all ultimately knowing where the once great euden would be. Sure enough, he was found slumped in his seat - stale alcohol staining his breath and his skin swollen and pale with the death that had consumed him. In the first moment of seeing his father’s body, slumped and devoid of all life in a position that had summed up his existence for the past six years, Drago had felt no sorrow. Humanity has infected you, he had thought at first, compassion has left you; you’re now just a vessel devoid of emotion. He had eventually realised that the reason he could not mourn the loss of his father was because he had not been a respectable being for a long time, and had chosen to become nothing…which was all he had in the end. No sympathy for self-victims.

Drago knew that death would be kinder to the man who had once been the greatest of rulers than life ever could be, and so had taken to the throne with nothing in the way of a heavy heart, every euden across the land hoping that this would be the King to finally settle Corona’s grief and bring the Three Islands closer together, as once had been the way. As the coronation ceremony had ended, the eldest brother had lit a candle that he himself had fashioned from the ground and made his way towards the homes of the waiting eudens, each with a smile on their face and a flash of hope in their eye for his reign that lay ahead.

Daryn and Kobe had watched from a window as Drago had made his way down the slope, winding between the crowds, the younger eudens skipping in his wake and forming an aerial snake as they wove along the darkened road. At first, the immediate lack of sunlight had caused their skin to all but drop off – the veins beneath swelled and for quite a while it was hard to move; the princes had been forced to rest before beginning their journey back to the First Island. Of course, having to carry the weight of Ril between them had not helped speed up their journey – they had found him, upon being pulled through the gateway, in a crumpled heap besides the lifeless form of his father.

“He’s alive,” Kobe had said, probing for a pulse. “…but only just. He’s…weak, perilously so. It may not be wise to move him, but I think the only place that could help him is the White Room. He needs rest and quiet, the air is not calm here.”

“What about the sorcerer?”

“Dead…for a day at least, I should think. It seems deserted around here, but I assume there is a Fentian somewhere who can deal with him.” Kobe hadn’t realised how desensitised to death he had become, as if corpses were something he could cope with everyday of his life, and not flinch at the thought of. If you can bury your brother, you can bury anyone.

It had been a long journey back to Corona, but the seas had proved to be welcome shelter from the choking dust – although Niko’s choosing to stay above water for fear of drowning (the ability to breathe safely underwater had long since been forgotten) meant one of the princes were to constantly float alongside him, keeping his chin above the surface as he slept. With the palace on the horizon, the travellers had arrived home with weary feet and clouded minds, resigning immediately to bed after seeing Ril was secure inside the White Room. Niko had woken soon after he had drifted off, the absence of light preventing him from finding a comfortable routine for sleep, causing him to wander the palace alone whilst doing battle with his mind to unlock the memories he knew he must have. He had found himself drawn to one room in particular - a room covered in a blanket of dust, imprints of month-old footprints still relatively fresh on the scorched floor. Age-old books lay scattered around, their titles obscured by the dirt. A forgotten bookcase had been pulled forwards to reveal a hidden alcove…splinters of marble flecked with blood still lay on the floor, pulled loose from the wall when a female’s claws lashed out frenziedly as she protected her young from…

…the scream. Do you still not remember? It was madness, the humans burst in here – guns firing, mouths running – they tore the books from the shelves whilst you cowered behind the drapes of your mother’s silk, your brothers by your side…they raped your mother of her life, and then they took you with them. Took you to Earth where you were mutilated and ridiculed before being rejected from your ‘family’… Is that the answer you seek, is that the past you want to uncover? You’re home at last, Niko, but at least…at least where you were, you were peaceful for a while…ignorance is bliss, as they say. Now be satisfied and sleep…the scream, echoing around, the scream…that most wonderful cacophony, waiting in your dreams of red and green…there’s no peace here for you. You’ll have to work for that.

---

“They’ll come back. Chances are they’re already trying to follow us through.”

“…They can’t get through, Ril closed the gateway.”

“They’ll find a way; they’ll want revenge for this. You saw the carnage Drago caused back there; a dozen humans were killed – if not more! I’m no expert, but they don’t seem the sort to let it drop! We invaded their world!”

“Justified invasion, justified killings.”

Daryn sighed, eyeing Kobe as he stood defiantly before the window whilst tending to the strapping that covered the still-tender bullet wound in his leg. “Is any killing justifiable? Argue all you like, the fact will remain that I can’t see the humans being too pleased about the…mess…we left behind. I don’t know how the sorcerer opened the gateway, but if somebody on the other side knows…Ril’s father did say how much information was sent to Earth…anything could happen, don’t you see that?.”

“But anything’s not happening, Daryn! For now we’re safe, for now…Niko is home and humanity is as far away from us as it could possibly be. Can we not just be happy for Drago, and for the feat we have accomplished?”

Daryn shook his head. “Of course we can be happy…we’ve got our brother back, we did what we planned so hard to do…but can you honestly say it was worth it? Not just Niko, I know that he’ll come round…there must be something somewhere that will help…but, well, he looks so…so…”

“So human, I know.” The twin replied, exhaling slowly. “He’s not human though, regardless of how he appears. I know that, you know that, and now he knows that. He’ll be okay, he’s back where he belongs and that’s what matters. Just…time.”

“We’ve lost so much though…”

Kobe nodded, the death count rising in his head. “It’s not a bad thing that our father died. We loved him, but…Drago is the King we need now, he is strong and a born leader. As for Stella…”

Stella’s body had been found in the basement alongside a smashed gourd of wine. Chaythe had killed her in his insanity, furious at the sight of her when he had been expecting to see his son. “Who the hell are you to tell me my sons have gone?” he had roared, advancing towards her, backing her into a corner. “You go after them right now and call them back, or so help me I’ll break your neck!”

“…her loss is unfortunate, and I know how much we’ll miss her but…without loss, how are we supposed to appreciate our gains?”

Daryn nodded, smiling grimly. He walked to the window where Kobe stood and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You’re right…as always.” He hesitated for a moment, thinking of what to say. “Will we…when should we announce the reasons behind Anno’s death? Only a few have picked up on his absence as of now, but when the workers come back to the palace…the White Room in particular…”

“We won’t tell them anything.” Kobe said shortly, hiding any sadness he may have been feeling. “Let them protest - Anno’s death will be a mystery to all of us in time…I think perhaps he deserves a little enigma, some dignity. Besides…”

“I know.” Daryn whispered, closing his eyes for a second. “It still hurts.”

---

Shying away from the celebrations that kept Corona awake, Niko stood in the darkness of the throne room. Eudens had already begun making their way back to the palace, some tending to the gardens and cleaning the fountain, others dusting down the doorways and preparing food in the kitchens. The throne room, however, was empty – someone had draped Chaythe’s favourite robe, one of the richest red, across the seat and cleaned the dried wine from the floor - no one had thought to place a candle in the room though, and so Niko stood alone as the darkness swirled around him. Get used to the night…it’s all you’ll see now.

He touched his human ears, probed around his human eyes, felt the space in his back where wings should have sprouted. In his ears echoed the fading decibels of a dead euden’s scream whilst flashes of red and green marred his vision. He lowered himself to the floor and sat cross-legged looking up at the ceiling, examining the marks on the ceiling, comparing them to the cracks that had appeared in his own life recently. Eventually he lay down, the robe from the throne pulled over his cold skin. He was aware of every single hair on his head, each bruise on his legs and the cuts slowly healing on his arms. All around him, the city celebrated the arrival of a new King, of a new era…but Niko slept.

It’s been…a strange few weeks, hasn’t it? Alex Chambers died, and something called Niko was born in his place…but now is not the time to worry about it all, just close your eyes, sweet prince – here you’ll live in eternal darkness, but allow the sun of Eudaemonia to rise in your heart nonetheless. A new day begins…it’s time to wake up.