1Part V: Revelation

Shadow examined the jeweled hilt of the rapier; the amber stones glistened in the sunlight, she wished she had something to give Cassie in return. She looked to see Marina’s ship; they left today, from the port they had spent nearly a month at. The assassins from Kelmath would get here in a few days. The others had gone into the city to buy provisions; she was still exhausted, the days of rest had done nothing for her fatigue. “Diana,” Lance called from the gangplank. “We’re back.”

Shadow rose from her seat against a tree. She bit into the apple in her hand. The sweet juices gushed into her mouth, relieving her hunger. She took her time getting to the ship and walking up the gangplank. The dark circles under her eyes seemed infinitesimally heavy. Lance took her hand as she boarded the vessel. She rested her head on his shoulder. He lifted her head so that her eyes met his. “You are ill,” he stated.

She became queasy as the ship cast off. She nodded. “Yes,” she said, making for her bunk, but she lost her balance and fell hard to her knees. Lance took her by the hand and helped her to her feet.

† † † † † †

Shadow lay on the bunk, the bunk Lance usually slept on. She closed her eyes trying to absorb the essence of him. He was on the deck, probably helping Marina to find their next destination. Images of the prior nights flashed through her memory. She wished they had not left, that she could spend one more night on the beach, lying in the heather, her hot lips meeting Lance’s. It was all she could think about, Lance. She wished his face would leave her head for just a few minutes so that she could sleep. She groaned and turned over, she had never gotten seasick before; whatever she had said to Marina, she was no landsman.

She heard footsteps, she hoped it was Lance. Lance entered carrying a flask of water; Shadow smiled. Lance grinned in return. “Maybe you are just lucky,” he muttered, climbing onto the bunk and sitting beside his betrothed, his soaked hair matted to his head.

“How is this lucky?” Shadow asked her tired eyes smiling.

Lance pointed up. “It’s raining. How are you?”

“Alright, I suppose, considering I can’t get my eyes shut long enough to sleep,” she replied. She silently thought about her symptoms, they added up, but she was afraid of the answer.

“Sleeplessness? Must be witches at work here,” he teased he smiled reassuringly. “What’s on your mind?” he inquired as he handed her the flask.

“Certainly not witches. There is a man who was once a daemon in there though,” she said tapping her skull, as she sipped at the water. She blinked in fatigue; she had to tell him her suspicion. She swallowed hard, “Lance, remember those nights on the beach, when we…” her voice trailed off. Lance nodded. “I-I think I carry our child.”

Lance looked at her; his eyes were bright with surprise. He touched his lips to hers. “Shadow—Shadow, I love you,” he whispered.

Shadow laid back into the straw mattress, she closed her eyes as the sweet aroma of heather filled her senses. “And I love you.”

† † † † † †

Lance starred almost blankly at his reflection in the brass looking glass. A father, he pounded the notion into his head. A father. He wasn’t sure he could get used to the word, father. A husband, a lover, it wasn’t so hard to accept those titles, but father. He pounded the words into his head, “Father, father, father.” And a High Lord, he was confident in ruling a nation, but why could he not get used to the notion, the mere notion, of being a father.

Life twisted in turned in his mind. So many things seemed to be plaguing him simultaneously. Assassins, they were coming, and they’d be waiting for Shadow when they returned to the mainland. Theodore he had most likely tempted Nemesis to join him, and then blackmailed the man until he did his bidding, now, Nemesis was daemon. Mareth was dead, true, Lance had never been close to his father, but Mareth knew what it was to have a child. His head still pounded from his essence being lost, but without it he could be with the woman he loved. And he was king. High Lord, the last in line; half of his life he had been in exile by his own choice, but now, now he could, no, he had to take the throne. The royal legions, he thought. How could’ve he been so blind? The royal legions could resolve this war, or at least help. He nearly sprinted to the quarterdeck. Rain still poured from the skies, as it had for the last two days. The thunder cracked, Lance’ hair and clothing was thoroughly soaked by now. “Marina, we should enact the help of the royal legions,” he told the captain, his excitement reflected in dark brown eyes.

“It took ye long enough to come ta that decision. Where’s the nearest fort?” she asked.

Lance closed his eyes in thought, he mentally pictured a map. “Thomas’ fort is a league from Ashport, but that’s to close to Kelmath. Also, there is a fort on the peninsula, two leagues east and two leagues north.”

Marina nodded. “How’s Shadow?” she inquired. Her brow wrinkled in confusion as Lance’s face broke into a grin.

“Ask her yourself,” Lance said, his smile not even faltering as he made his way to the bunks. Marina left Breanna at the deck, to watch the course of the giant vessel and followed Lance. Lance met Shadow on the stairway, making her way to the decks. She wore one of his tunics, the scarlet one, the one he had worn the day he had set eyes upon her for the first time, it hid her swollen breasts and her belly that had slightly increased in size in the last few weeks. The weariness was almost gone from her eyes; Lance could tell she was sick of spending her days sleeping. She embraced him as soon as she noticed him; she kissed his neck hard, then his lips.

“Shadow, how are ye?” Marina automatically inquired. Her brow was still wrinkled in confusion, the serene happiness in Shadow’s face just didn’t make sense; she was ill, after all.

Shadow looked at Lance, “You didn’t tell her, did you?” she asked. She blinked guiltily, like a child caught doing something she oughtn’t. Shadow beamed at Marina “I’m pregnant.” Two words, just two words, yet they were so significant; two words that would bring a child into the world, her child.

Marina looked from Shadow to Lance and back to Shadow. She broke into a grin, “Shadow, it’s wonderful!” she shouted. She embraced her friend reassuringly, “Just don’t loose him, Lassie, just don’t loose him,” she whispered, her eyes looking to the heir to the throne who was still grinning.

Shadow’s grin dulled momentarily at the pirate’s words, but it returned as she replied, “Never, never will I lose him,” she whispered. She felt the dampness reach her skin, and remembered that it was raining. She loved the rain, though why she could not fathom. Maybe it was the chorus of lightning and thunder, the damp misty odor, or the way the droplets splashed into the water. She continued up the simple wooden stairwell. Her hair was drenched as soon as she stepped onto the quarterdeck, she smiled into the heavens, the water stung her eyes, but she ignored it. Tears of water streaked her face.

Lance couldn’t help but smile at Shadow’s antics; she looked to the rain as a child would at an extremely large piece of sugar candy. He let his eyes wander to the heavens, gazing into the aquatic wonder of the droplets of rain.

Shadow felt Lance’s arms around her waist. She turned to face him, she smiled, almost giddily. Her crimson eyes reflected innumerable emotions. She laughed quietly as Lance ran his fingers through her soaked, black hair. “It’s funny,” she said her voice was quiet.

“What?” he inquired. He brought his hands over her form to her shoulders.

“The fact that the first time I met you I was there to kill you, but you were a daemon. You could not be killed. But now, now, Lance, I’m content only when I’m in your arms, I bare you child, and I will soon be wedded to you,” she looked deep into his dark brown eyes.

He pressed his lips to hers. “Aye, Lance, Shadow, wake up ta the world, quit yer fondling. Would ye like a gourmet meal o’ pickles, eggs, and fruit?” Marina asked.

Lance pecked Shadow’s cheek and picked up an apple, handing it to his beloved.

† † † † † †

Five days passed, the ocean calmed and they made their way swiftly to Thomas’ fort. At the fort Lance easily ratified the royal legions help, a month was spent at the fort. The fort was rather small and constructed from pine wood, so the aroma of stale pine needles always hung in the air.

The stench made Shadow’s head ache. It was worse than the angry miasma that resonated from the swamplands hundreds of miles west, the place where Lance had spent many years of his exile. Shadow was glad as they left, Samuel and his archers along with them. They made for the island of Mortos, a month away.

† † † † † †

Shadow swung her rapier hard. It had taken days to persuade Lance to allow her to come, but Cassie needed her. Her mind snapped back to reality as the daemon’s head flew from its body. Cassie was inside, looking mentally for the place where the creatures hid. She could hear the clang of Lance’s sword close behind her. Samuel was on the battlements; he and his archers were taking out scores of the adversaries. The portcullis raised, a single person walked onto the field. She was clad in a white dress and her hair was as light as the morning sky, Cassie. She simply sat on the cobblestone road her eyes never once opening. The enemies did not dare approach her, though why Shadow could not surmise. Shadow’s eyes were wide in fear for the Dream Warden. As the child sat her clenched fists opened. Tiny balls of red light met directly in front of her face until they became one ball of crimson light. By now conflict had stopped all eyes were on the girl. The ball pulsed as it became larger; it nearly met the tip of Cassie’s nose by now. Shadow realized what the girl was doing; it was a spell, a powerful one, too. It was the most advanced magic Shadow had ever seen.

The ball pulsed again menacingly, like a heart. Then in a burst of ruby light it exploded. As it met the faces of the trolls, ogres, and goblins they fell dead. But the rest were unharmed. Cassie sighed, the spell exhausted her more than she expected. For a moment her shield faltered and she stumbled.

Nemesis saw her, his grotesque lips curled into a murderous smile. He let out a throaty laugh before vaulting forward and grabbing the child. He licked his lips in anticipation his kind had been waiting for this for nearly a decade. He pulled her head back revealing her glistening white neck to the mean sun of the dream plane. He slashed his sharp, black fingernails into the skin of her throat.

Cassie did all she could to cry out, but only a faint gurgling sound echoed in the courtyard. She heard them laugh and she felt the hot red liquid falling over her white dress. Her head pounded for breath. She sent out a mental scream as her short life flashed in front of her very eyes. The fire, the power, and the shadows. She felt the pain fade.

Shadow screamed as she saw the Dream Warden’s head fall limply to her chest, her small eyes staring blankly ahead. “No, no, no!” Tears streamed down her cheeks as she rushed forward, she cut down daemons violently form her path. She fell to her knees beside Cassie’s form. She clutched the girls head to her chest. “Cassie, wake up, please, just wake up.” She knew the girl was dead, but she denied it, it was too soon. Her mind contradicted that, for not long is she left in the mortal world. The prophecy pulsed over and over in her head.

Cassie’s form dissolved into the air, her soul was leaving the dream plane. She felt Lance’s hands on her shoulders. She pulled away from him.

“Shadow, more are coming, we have to go,” he spoke urgently.

She rose slowly following Lance inside the portcullis. She turned to see his face was also streaked in tears. Shadow embraced him tightly, holding for a long time, as though afraid that she might loose him, too. “So much death,” she mumbled.

Lance ran his strong hands over her abdomen. “But also there is life,” he whispered, forcing a weak smile.

† † † † † †

Death was odd; it haunted her veins, if they could be called veins. She was intangible and invisible but she could see all of it, it was like being confined in a transparent box, she could see everything and touch nothing, effect nothing.

She could hear all, but when she screamed no one but she could hear. Sorcery was her only escape; she could still send telepathic messages. So far she had seen no one, well, no one like her. Maybe it was because she was special, maybe she was different. It had been prophesized she was the daughter of time, and there she would dwell forever. Shadow, her messages were weak but they could be heard. Shadow, know that I am here, hark to me sister! Cassie could hear the woman’s thoughts, she had piqued them, but still she had not drawn enough attention to herself. SHADOW!

The response was weak at first, almost surreal. Cassie? Cassie, are you there; are you still… here? Shadow’s voice was short and confused but laden with hope.

Shadow, I-I still exist, but solely is a surreal manner; forsooth, I am by all definition dead. Shadow began to talk mentally but Cassie quieted her. You could do nothing; you cannot fight my fate, for I am the only one with power over my destiny. I am Cassandra, the daughter of time, Dream Warden Eternal. She spoke the words with a certain finality about her, though this would not be the last time the sisters of fate would speak.

† † † † † †

Lilith starred blankly at her hands. What was happening? Her finger were becoming transparent, her power was being slowly leeched away. Her head pulsed with pain for the first time in a literal eternity. She was weakening, her mind-sight was fading, and her telekinesis was failing. She sent out an impulse of energy to break the spell. Nothing. She was enervated, fatigue was engulfing her. She sent out another impulse toward a jar on the mantel of her study. It gave a weak wiggle, whereas she had been trying to destroy the thing. She focused, Mareth, no, Mareth is dead. Nemesis. Nemesis! Nemesis hark unto me!

Highness? Your highness, what ails you? He said it in almost a mocking tone. I’m busy, woman, killed the Dream Warden.

You fool! She is the Eternal born of mortals. She lives on, undetectable to us but to her own she can make herself seen, if she is clever enough to guess how. Do not let her find the way, fool. She will meddle; already she leeches away my power.

This time as Nemesis spoke some of the confidence was lost from his voice, Yes, High Lady.

† † † † † †

Tears streamed down her cheeks, they had gone from pale betraying no emotion to rosy revealing her sorrow. She would never be able to see her sister again, she could talk to her, but Cassie was still dead. “Shadow, be calm if I remember correctly she can appear, she can take form, but I don’t recall how,” Lance quieted her.

“She was-was nothing more than a child. She will never know so much,” Shadow hiccupped. She held her face in her hands as though trying to hide her grief.

“She will know much more than you or I could ever hope to find. She is not dead, when she finds her corporeal form she will be as you or I. She has no death, my Shadow; no, she will have immortal life,” whispered Lance gently. He put his hand to her cheek, caressing the tears away. “She might be gone now, but she will be back.”

Shadow blinked hard, forcing herself to cease weeping. She forced a faux smile upon her face as Lance started up the stairs for the deck.

Shadow, Shadow, I am here. Cassie announced; she tried futilely to make herself visible. Shadow, open your mind to me.

Cassie? Cassie, Lance said you still live, you can take a corporeal state if you can find how. Shadow replied quickly, she looked around the cabin for any sign on her sister.

I can? I have tried, of no avail. She forced herself tangible, so that she could just barely feel the floor on her bare feet.

Cassie, Cassandra is that you? Shadow asked in surprise, feeling light fingers on her palm, but seeing nothing. She beamed at the invisible fingers as she touched them with her opposite hand.

Yes, sister, yes it is I! Cassie laughed; the happiness in her azure eyes witnessed by none. She forced color into her form, it was weak, like a penciled sketch whose color had faded away.

Shadow threw her arms around the hardly tangible girl. “Cassie, you live! You are alive!” Tears began in her eyes for a second time.

“Shadow, you are with a child?!” Cassie declared in astonishment. She smiled at her sister. “Your child will someday be a great ruler.”

Shadow began to return the smile but it was knocked from her face as the ship’s leeward rocking was interrupted by a violent crash on the decks above.

Shadow scrambled up the stairway onto the decks followed close behind by Cassie, who was rapidly gaining color and her physical form was becoming more tangible.

“Where is she?!” the daemon demanded, Lance recognized him. It was Nemesis, the one who forsook his lover and murdered Cassandra.

“She is Dream Warden Eternal, never shall she die again,” Lance responded almost automatically. There was a vile, acidic quality about his voice.

The daemon smiled, revealing teeth sharper than any possessed by man or beast. “She is mine; she will die,” he spoke slowly, his voice was dour, it resonated from deep in his belly and rumbled like thunder.

Cassie concentrated; the daemon did not recognize her. She had the beginnings of a hex in her mind. She chanted silently, her lips moving fast in a macabre manner. “Alpha. Omega. Beginning. End. From. To. E Noxmor katr queda illu mi hasla a lasd wal! Li ia kint fotr alk; li siver il, aläd! ”

The daemon disintegrated into the air, leaving nothing more than an ugly odor in the air, as did, miles away, Lilith, queen of daemons.

† † † † † †

“No!” Theodore screamed as he watched his strongest ally perish. He was scrying, starring into the muddy pool of water watching the daemon. Lilith had provided for him these magics, but as the pool faded into murky, brown water, he knew that she had also fallen at the hand of this young sorceress.

He turned to his one of his highest-ranking man. “Go to the Minotaur” he commanded, referring to the most spectacular of his ships. “And retrieve for me the red vial from my private stores.”

The man turned and headed for the shoreline. Theodore shook with anticipation. He had kept the vial for years; it had taken much blackmail to get the thing. Contained within that crimson vial was one of the most volatile of all essences. Contained in that vial was the essence of an elder daemon. He had killed many to get close to the wizard who had harnessed the essence. He was called Nakion who had lived since the time of Eve. The man was of great power, and today still gaining power as he searched for a way to bring his love from the grave; his love, the one called Eve, greatest swordsperson of all time. No, though Theodore, Perhaps not of all time. There were raising rumors about the party that accompanied the one who vanquished Lilith. Shadow and Macy were adept with the blade, and there was the man, the heir to the throne, the one called Lance.

“Sir, your requested vial,” the commander said handing the small bottle to Theodore. He bowed his head to his leader and waited to be dismissed.

“Evacuate the men to the beaches, for I require complete privacy,” Theodore ordered. His thin lips curled into an evil smile. He stared into the swirling ruby mist of the vial; a shiver of excitement and, perhaps, fear ran down his spine. This was the Elder daemon called Káean.

Theodore took a quick look around, assuring there was no one in the immediate vicinity. The night was fast beginning He pulled the enchanted cork from the neck of the bottle with his teeth. He took a deep breath before bringing the bottle to his lips.

The evil man’s breath became violent. Sweet thoughts filled his mind. Intangible daggers plunged into the hearts of his enemies; the essence put the thought into his mind. He stood on a battlefield, the grass a uniform crimson, as he stepped the ground bubbled, saturated with red water. No, not water blood. He smiled giddily, though he knew the scene to be false. Unlike Nemesis, Theodore was truly an evil man.

† † † † † †

Shadow stirred in Lance’s arms as she slept. Visions of death haunted her sleep. Shadow screamed; the sky was grey and rapidly filling with thunder. She took a quick look around; she stood in a barren valley, the grass was sparse and dying. There was a daemon, different from any she had seen before; it was the Elder called Káean. The annoying man, that was accompanying her and her love, was foolishly challenging the daemon.

She started toward her lover, but as she heard Amphion’s agonized screams, she stopped petrified. She could do nothing but watch as Nakion enacted a spell to capture the daemon. She was completely terrified as Nakion scrambled to retrieve the vial that now held the daemon.

She shuddered as her gaze shifted toward Amphion, who lay dead, killed by the daemon. His body was covered in blood; ebon poison covered his once white tunic. His face was contorted in an immortal state of horror. She threw herself into Nakion’s arms. Tears welled in her eyes; she feared death.

Shadow blinked herself awake, the trauma of her dream still with her. Somehow, she felt it was more than a dream. She searched her mind for anything remotely related to the dream.

“Eve,” she whispered. She was descended from Eve, the second master of the Duskblade. After Eve, her family had left the Duskblade and lived for two centuries in the westerlands of Bellakalare. Shadow was the first of the Sagittarius line in two-hundred years to ascend to be master of the Duskblade.

Sagittarius, the name of Shadow’s line and the founder of the Duskblade was renowned throughout the thirteen realms. Many powerful people of the third era had come from that line, but none in the last hundred years, save Shadow.

“Shadow!” Marina called down the stairwell. There is one who wishes to meet you here.” Shadow could hear the surprise in Marina’s voice.

Shadow rose from the straw mattress and made her way up the stairs. She looked to the starboard to see a ship. Her eyes grew wide as she noticed the ship was about three meters above the surface of the water, floating in midair. A man stood beside Marina; his hair was white with age, but his face was youthful. He wore the purple robes of a sorcerer. To Shadow he look rather familiar. “You are Nakion?” she stated as much as asked.

“I am,” he replied. His lips curled into a smile; “You are Shadow,” he said simply. He paused to look at her, “I have waited many years to meet you.”

Shadow’s face reflected her confusion. “To meet me?” she inquired. “Surely you mean my betrothed, Lance, for he was once a daemon. Or my sister Cassandra, Dream Warden Eternal.”

“No, Shadow, my child. I have awaited my meeting with you,” he spoke softly. He brought his hand to her cheek. “Shadow, you resemble her so much. Her eyes were as yours, and the color of her skin. But your hair is of my line, there are features too, I do not recognize. I suppose I have been away for nearly four generations,” he grinned, his mysterious nature reminded Shadow of someone, though she knew not who.

Shadow remembered the dream, the relationship between Nakion and Eve. “I am descended from you,” she stated. Nakion nodded. “I suppose you know that Cassandra has become the Dream Warden Eternal?” she asked.

“Yes, I have spoken with her many times. I tutored her when she was younger, but since has she surpassed even my skills. Our areas of sorcery are separate; hers is keeping control of an entire plane, while I strive to bring my lost love from her grave.”

“Eve,” Shadow whispered. Nakion nodded, as he embraced his heir.

“Child, I have come to aid you in this war; an essence that was stolen from me was bound with a human last night. The daemon war is not over yet,” he said.

Shadow heard Lance approach her; he stood beside her, his hand resting in the small of her back. “Lance, this is Nakion, my father of four generations.”

Lance nodded, his eyes reflecting curiosity for the 240-year-old man who could be thirty, was it not for his silver hair.

A/N: Unexpected? I thought so... So, how did you like it? Leave me a nice review please??