Ice and Wind

GOLDEN

(I do not own the rights to the music link. However, it is what I wrote this ending of my story to and captures so much emotion. It adds an additional dimension.)

This is the last chapter to my fantasy story of the same name, just finished and edited.

https://youtu.be/i0GsS9uiBnU

GOLDEN

Ashylysh was no more.

Acknowledged by the destruction and loss of so much all around the clearing. A hundred meters wide, the scorched earth shown like a scar in cold, white winter’s grasp. The mountain above them was split in half, a testament to the great battle that had just transpired.

The three barely living things were within this burnt eye. While winter raged seething around the burned clearing, she did not dare enter the calm of it and small fires still danced murderously evil upon the blackened ground, their malevolent intent all too conspicuous.

Raze Khosta, was a smoldering heap after his FireSong had been turned upon him. His leather armor smoking with the betrayal of his own powers. His skin melted onto a barely living frame. Each breath an exhalation of fumes and coughs.

Endyly, her breaths also coming harshly and with much effort, was lying further away on the burnt ground like some beautiful but forgotten doll, tossed away.

Estan, raised himself; he had caught the brunt of Ashylysh’s ire. His hair singed showing half his skull. His face and hands twisted from the intense fire. His leather chest armor burnt and barely hanging on by a single buckle.

His first step was very difficult, and he looked down at the hole just beneath his heart where Ashylysh had tried to rip his soul from him.

That would be why. It was a mortal wound.

Ruefully, he smiled with what was left of his face. That’s all he ever wanted…Mortal.

Raze turned his burnt carapace to watch Estan make his way to Endyly.

Estan stumbled with great effort and fell to his knees at her side. Her breath was becoming more and more difficult to reach. She turned her head and kind eyes looked upon his monster.

Estan unslung the clasp to his cloak of crows, and they swirled with a rush of sound of beaks and claws and feathers as they settled into the burned trees above the clearing. Yet not one made a single caw. They understood this moment.

Endyly, looked at the gaping wound in Estan’s chest, and whispered so softly it could barely be heard above his wheezing gasps for air,” Not yet, please… please, not yet.” She began to sob.

Estan smiled as best he could and raised both of his hands, palms up to the sky. The clouds above swirled like the start of a tornado. His hands responded by igniting into the most beautiful rays of gold. He gently placed them onto Endyly. One caressing her face and slipping to her neck. The other softly traveled down from her chest to her waist and as one they shared that light.

Awash in the growing gold, the very earth responded. The burnt winter trees, the flowers hidden beneath the snow and destroyed ground, the grass itself; all sprouted and grew wild and lush about them. They all fought for life.

Estan turned his chin to the sky, as the clearing blazed with wave after wave, and finally a crescendo of gold exploded. Not a sound was made but a flare equal to a sun caused Raze to shield his eyes.

When he dared look again, Endyly lay alone, surrounded by flowers and grass. There was gold dust in the shape of man hovering over her and then as if to kiss her cheek the form bent but fell and exploded under its own weight into a shower of fireflies who all made their own way out of that place.

Raze, continued his story, “You see, many thought Estan was the bringer of destruction, the arbiter of the dark. No, he, he was a man of destiny, who had found his fate. He accepted his place and the fact that he brought balance. I think he was balance itself.”

His ten grandchildren sat at his feet silently listening to the most wonderful tale.

Young Tulmer Khosta, spoke quietly as they watched tears roll down their Grandpapa’s scarred cheeks, “Is he coming back?”

Raze Khosta, reached forward and tousled his grandson’s sandy hair.

“I hope so,” he whispered, “I miss my friend.”