It began as it always did. Michael stood facing the northern entrance to the city, feeling the tension in the air. His senses were clouded, everything carrying the fog of a dream, suffocating weight bearing down.
Their cries could be heard from a fair distance as they approached, echoing off the once-sheltering arms of the mountains. He stood motionless as they swooped down, talons bared. Helpless, he witnessed several Adorians ravaged by their hands. Claws tore into bodies, blood dripping down the Moriors' withered, hollow cores. One of them turned toward Michael, the same one as each time before, and grinned with glistening teeth, its man-like jaws sunken into a fleshless face. He tried moving his arms, and felt the familiar paralysis in his limbs. Frozen in place, he closed his eyes to the carnage around him, hoping with every fiber in his being to wake from the nightmare once again.
Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder, digging in hard to his collarbone. It shook him awake. The illusionary film that had always pervaded vanished, and the sounds of his realm's fear grew unclouded. He turned to see Garren standing beside him in the city.
Garren pulled Michael behind him as he drew his sword. With one flowing movement he turned, blocking the Morior from Michael and plunging his blade deep into its chest. It fell to the ground, but not before clipping Garren. He howled in pain as he grabbed his leg. He jerked his sword free, raised it into the air, then swung down and severed the creature's head cleanly from its neck.
"Ariana's here, I can feel it, but I can't find her." Garren's words were rushed.
Michael glanced around him to gain his bearings, then motioned for Garren to follow him, but as he started toward the castle, Garren clutched his arm.
"She's not there. I just came from that direction." Garren hitched a breath as he shifted his stance. The injury to his leg was substantial.
"Are you able to walk?"
"I don't have a choice!"
They began to weave their way through the battle. Michael picked up a sword from one of the fallen. Following just behind Garren, he fought off several Ereubinians. The chaos was difficult to maneuver around, the casualties mounting on both sides.
It wasn't long until they reached the center courtyard. Everything had grown dark, the sky burdened with black rolling clouds. He could hear someone speaking, but couldn't understand what was being said. Garren ran ahead, Michael emerging through the hedge moments later.
Ariana was on her knees; a hollow expression on her face, her eyes fixed on the distance. She was clothed in a black gown, with the hood from her cloak draped over her head. Michael started to run toward her, Garren by his side, when it appeared.
Behind Ariana, a great white dragon materialized. The light from its presence was stunning. It glistened with iridescent scales. Great blue eyes peered down at them, shining fiercely.
"Ciara," Garren murmured. He stood motionless at her sight.
She was over forty feet tall, looming over them. Her shadow covered Ariana completely. Ariana remained still as Ciara reached down to her. Sharp claws pierced her chest, light streaming from the entry wounds. Yet, she did not lose consciousness. Instead she rose to her feet, a look in her eyes that drained the blood from Michael's heart. He watched as she raised her hand, a small ball of light forming above her palm, the same as he had seen in the old world. She parted her lips, and began to speak.
As the words spilled from her mouth, the earth beneath them began to tremble. The light grew in intensity, spinning faster and faster, until it had become larger in size than Ariana herself. Ciara snatched the ball into her clawed hand and held it in the air. She opened her immense jaw.
The sound that escaped from the dragon was indescribable. It was more than a scream. It was a cry that summoned every Morior to circle around her, matching the intensity of her tone. Michael could not have heard her, but he no longer saw Ariana's lips moving. Everything slowed as the light erupted, covering all of them, expanding out. A tremendous crack followed by a loud rumble echoed against the sudden emptiness of the landscape. Michael fell to the ground. When the light faded, he rose to his feet. Garren was still beside him.
There was nothing left. They stood in what remained of the courtyard, surrounded by a gruesome landscape. Nothing was as it had been. The ground itself was thick with an inky blackness. It wasn't mud or mire, but something else entirely. It started to wrap itself around his ankle, but he shook his foot free.
Everything was silent. Ciara still stood before them, motionless. Ariana had once again knelt down, facing them. He could barely make out her figure, her clothes blending in with the surroundings. But he could still see her eyes. They were even more intensely blue than Ciara's. He looked at Garren, who sank to his knees as well.
Suddenly, Garren began to speak. The words coming from his lips were similar in sound to those spoken by Ariana. He closed his eyes, and reached out his hands.
Michael could do nothing. Paralysis had returned to his limbs, holding him from anything but witnessing the events around him.
A wicked laugh unfurled from the depth of Ciara's belly. The loudness of it sounded across the empty expanse. He was surprised to hear her speak. He was even more surprised at the sylvan quality of the voice.
"You are too late. She is mine." She laughed again, looking down. Ariana's expression slowly grew into one of possession. Her eyes darkened as she threw her head back and screamed. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she wailed with pain. He barely heard himself crying out for her over the sound.
He awoke clutching his chest. Jareth was at his side, shaking him.
"Michael! Wake up!"
He couldn't move at first; his whole body stuck in remembrance of the paralysis it had just possessed.
"I heard you screaming for Ariana from down the hall. She's fine, remember, we're back home. Everything's all right."
Michael's sight slowly cleared, and his heart rate returned to normal, but he still couldn't find his tongue.
"This was no ordinary dream, my son." Jenner's words were a welcome sound compared to Ariana's screams, which still echoed in his ears. Not that he didn't appreciate Jareth's efforts.
"No, it wasn't. More tangible than any dream I've ever had." He saw then that Jareth's arm was bound in a sling. "Are you all right?"
"I'm not the one emitting such frightful wails. What in the world did you see in this dream?"
"Jareth, if you would please allow me privacy to speak with Michael for a moment?"
Jareth nodded, not giving his father an ounce of resistance. It was a respect that Michael had seen greatly mature over the last ten years. After Gabriel died, Jareth seemed to appreciate his own father more. He rose from Michael's side and slipped from the room.
"Ciara had Ariana, Jenner. Whatever powers my sister possesses, Ciara had complete domination over them, and it…" He paused. How to explain? Everything in their world had rotted away, leaving only death and emptiness in its place. "The Oni is clearly referred to as a male, but could it have been written as to mislead?"
Jenner was hesitant to answer. "I don't believe so, but it would behoove us to assume that those who penned the prophecies may not have told us everything."
"And what does this mean for Garren? He was with me in this dream. Ciara said to him 'You're too late,' as if he had the power to stop her. Do we risk keeping him alive and lose the faith of our people – or do we execute him and risk losing what may be the key to saving Adoria itself? Do the scrolls say anything of this?"
Jenner shook his head. "No, but in addition to the scrolls, the ancients also left us with a very strong code of moral and legal laws. It does not appear they intended to contradict themselves." Jenner sat down in a chair near the bed. "The choice is yours to make. I have already met with the council and our will is that the decision will rest in your hands alone. We will not intervene."
He was surprised to hear this. He'd thought the council to be taking on a more involved role after the last time he had met with them.
Jenner seemed to sense Michael's confusion. "You know the laws and how they are to be applied. If you feel it necessary to your sister's safety to keep him alive, so be it. You wouldn't have been chosen as ruler had we not had faith in your judgment. The sole reason we conveyed our disapproval of your last judgment was because you made a call out of unfounded theory. Revelation of your sister's powers is something not to be taken lightly."
"I need to speak with Garren." Michael started to rise when Jenner stopped him.
"You believe him to have been privy to this vision as well?"
Michael looked past the windows. "I don't know what I believe anymore." He rose to his feet, stretching his wings. They were sore and felt heavy. He rubbed his shoulder and peeked at the bandage on his arm. His leg was wrapped, making it awkward to move. He reached for his shirt and pulled it over his head, maneuvering his wings painfully as he finished dressing.
Jenner headed toward the door before addressing Michael again. "I will see you when we meet with the council, assuming the world does not fall to pieces before then."
Jenner smirked and for a moment the tension was lessoned. Michael sighed. "The way things have been going, it very well might."
Michael grabbed his cloak. He never thought he'd see the day that he desperately needed to speak with Garren and it was this thought that ran through his head as he limped down several corridors. When he was around the corner from Garren's cell, he heard raised voices.
"Michael will see you when he feels it necessary," the guard's words were clipped and teeming with disgust.
"Please, you don't understand the weight of… I must speak with him."
The guard seemed to have heard enough of Garren. As Michael walked into the hall, he saw the Adorian lean into the door, pressing his face to the bars. Judging by the hatred in his expression, he was about to say something rather nasty when, unfortunately for him, he discovered that some of his shirt fabric was exposed through the railing, just enough for Garren to grab hold of.
"Believe me," Garren hissed, "he'll feel it…"
Michael stepped up before Garren could finish his sentence. "Let him go. I believe I know what urgent matter you're referring to." Garren released the guard.
"My Lord, I'm sorry. I should've summoned you." The guard knelt down.
"Rise. I respect your intentions to honor me." Michael tapped him on the shoulder, motioning for him to stand. "Garren and I need to speak in private. I'll come for you once we're finished." The guard bowed again, then pulled a silver key from his pocket and handed it to Michael.
Left alone, Michael turned the key in the lock and opened the door. Garren had reclaimed his seat.
"You were there," Michael rasped.
Sweat poured down Garren's face as he nodded. "Did you see anything before I reached you?"
Michael shook his head. "Do you know anything of my sister? Words again came from your lips that weren't Adorian."
"I knelt when I saw her, but heard nothing."
Michael believed him. "Then you didn't hear Ciara address you?"
"No."
"She said, 'You are too late. She is mine.' Do you have any idea where such a vision would have come from, or for what purpose?"
"I can't begin to imagine. No Ereubinian or anyone else living aside from the Laionai themselves has had an audience with her, though it appears the tide is changing."
Michael almost didn't say anything, but he felt his gut urging him to. "I can assure you that's not true."
Garren looked up. "What?"
"Ariana. The day you released her from Palingard. Ciara approached her in Arcadia. She was trying to persuade Ariana against going any further, which would keep her from crossing over into our borders. She appeared to her as a child."
Garren stood up from his bed and started to circle the room.
Michael thought for a moment that it was odd that he didn't feel the urge to pace himself. "I'm unsure what your place is in all of this is. You speak our language when it's never been taught to you, and in a vision you speak in a tongue that only you and Ariana posses. I can't ignore that." Michael knew his next sentence wouldn't be anticipated. "I'm requesting that you appear before the elders. The council may have questions for you that I want to give you a fair chance to answer. Perhaps if they see the difference in you, as I have seen, it will steer the course of things to come."
Garren turned his gaze to the ground. Michael could almost reach out and touch his remorse. It couldn't have been an easy choice to make – walking away from everything he'd ever believed. Michael had been wrong, Garren hadn't chosen Adoria based on her leniency, he couldn't have. He'd never known mercy.
"I don't know if in the pace of the last two days that I've thanked you for saving Ariana's life." Michael dipped his head to catch Garren's eye. "You don't know what it's done to change mine. And dream or not, you saved my life when you thought the threat was real. I felt the blood rushing through my veins at the same pace that it must have yours. While I cannot forget the wrongs that have been done to my people, I can personally forgive you for them. It's easy to be honorable and just when you've always been so. It's clearly another matter when it's against all that you've been taught to believe."
Garren's breathing quickened. "I don't deserve your forgiveness. All this time, I assumed my father's blessings upon my actions and I have done nothing but shame him."
Michael shook his head. How many times had he told Ariana that darkness flowed through the veins of all of Eidolon and here he was retracting that statement to his sworn enemy? Maybe the world had fallen to pieces. "You are everything that I would have been, had I been raised in your world, Garren. While our ideals and methods have been drastically different, our dedication to our beliefs is the same. That's why I want you to meet with the council. I want them to hear your words – see what I have seen."
Garren swallowed hard. "I would still be that being had I not found Ariana. Her presence, just the simple touch of my hand on her cheek, irrevocably changed everything for me."
Michael remembered what Ariana had told him about their conversation. "I have been relayed a very different version of your feelings for my sister."
Garren sat down on the floor. "Ariana dreamt when she was in Eidolon that your father came to her and told her that you would be there soon and I remember well her calling out for you several times in her suffering. My feelings for her are stronger than anything I've ever known. But I am at death's door and have no intention of leaving her with resentment toward you for what must be done. Selfishly, I want her by my side in my last hours. But because I love her, I cannot allow it."
Michael was speechless. He'd taken Garren for many things, none of which was selfless. "Then what changes have been wrought in you are not false. What I have witnessed is truth."
"Michael, you must listen to me. Merely being in close proximity with her, near her in any fashion, awakens emotions and experiences that I've never known. It's as if I've lived two lives, one of righteousness, one of depravity. But it may be a persuasion of one whom you cannot afford to trust, The Laionai or the Goddess herself. Do what you know to be right, and let fate be what it may. It was my introduction into her life that brought all of this on, so perhaps when I'm no longer breathing, it will cease."
Michael looked at the floor. Garren's words had truth behind them, but to what extent? He'd have to trust that he'd know what to decide when the time came. He had no other choice.
"We'll see. You haven't eaten anything. If you are ill, then I will send for our healer. If not, then give your body what it needs. Your judgment in our realm doesn't include your suffering needlessly." He gave Garren as much of a smile as he could given the circumstances. "I will send another plate of hot food and a blanket. If you change your mind, let the guard know, and he will summon Aulora."
Michael left the cell and stood in the hall for a moment with his back against the wall. He concentrated only on his breathing – everything else was far too overwhelming.