Blood Immortal
Chapter Seventeen

Strife in the Clouds

Aarian lay on consecrated ground, a verdant and sunlit plain where blooming flowers of various colors and crystal trees grew. Mountains of white gold also stood in the far distance. Before him was Xen, levitating. She gracefully descended upon Aarian, extending her hands.

“You cannot give up,” she echoed into his mind.

“I have failed miserably,” he said, getting to his feet with difficulty. “Earamathras is dead because of me.”

“That is not true, and you know it,” she said in a firm tone. “He lived longer than most could ever dream of. Like many heroes who have joined your glorious alliance, he died fighting valiantly for what he believed in.”

“Look at me,” he said, glancing at his gashed chest.

“Now that you can blame yourself for,” she said. “But you have already admitted to this before falling unconscious, which is good.”

“Is it too late?” he asked.

“Well,” she began, sighing, “I don’t believe it is. Though, your arrogance has cost you control of Izabaldo.”

Aarian stiffened when hearing this.

“Don’t be too afraid,” she said calmly. “He dwells deep within your subconscious mind and wishes to keep it this way for a while—no doubt until you’re in an even weaker state than you currently are.”

“Why isn’t he trying to attack me now?” he asked.

“Because he’s more afraid of you than you are of him,” she replied. “Furthermore, he fears me too.”

“I see,” he said, exhaling heavily. “What now?”

“Now I do something that I’ve never done before,” she said. “You see, without control of Izabaldo’s soul, your body may not heal. You’re going to need another Spirit...one that you have tapped into within the nether.”

“Who’s?”

Her eyes downcast, she replied, “This is a pivotal turning point in the history of Yunedar; a defining moment in which I must act upon no matter how afraid I may be.”

“What in the world are you talking about?” he asked, his brow furrowed.

“I must sacrifice my soul and give it to you,” she said.

“Over my dead body,” he responded with scorn. “You’re the only immortal Spirit people can reach out to without being cursed. You mustn’t do that.”

“If I don’t then you may very well die,” she said. “If that happens, Izabaldo will, without a doubt, take over your body. The alternative is for me to possess you; however, I made an oath eons ago to never possess another living being again.”

“This is preposterous,” he said, shaking his head. “I won’t let you do this, Xen.”

“I’m afraid you have little choice in the matter,” she said, beginning to glow brighter than the sun. “As a matter of fact, you have no choice.”

“Wait!” he yelled, staggering. “Don’t do it!”

An immeasurable blinding light permeated around her, and then she dissipated within the illumination. Just then, the radiant ray beamed into him. He blasted back and fell to the ground, blanking out. That instant, he awoke at the bottom of a crater. Gasping loudly and opening his eyes, he placed his hands against his chest, no longer feeling a deep gash. He looked down and noticed he no longer had any wounds.

“Mercy of U’cleria,” said Parla’vasa, stunned. Rushing over to him, she shouted, “He’s alive! Oh, thank the Nine! He’s alive!”

Most of the alliance cheered with relief. A few who belonged to the swarm grunted over her words while others ignored her ignorance, praising Aarian as the immortal Dralekar. This was a moment of respite for them, feeling hope still existed. Though the emperor lay dead, at least his chosen champion, Aarian, was still alive. Many of the legion swiftly climbed down the depression, helping the Dralekar get to his feet.

“Thank you, my friends,” he said, slightly blushing since dozens upon dozens of alliance members were helping him. After clearing his throat, he continued, “We better make haste and get out of this hole.”

Though it took a while, he and his fellow comrades climbed to the surface and panted. Trying to catch his breath, Aarian gazed above to see if he’d spot the dragon that had nearly killed him. It was apparently hiding in the dark clouds that looked as though they were on the verge of releasing a downpour of rain.

“Great,” said Aarian, frustration in his voice. “Now we’re at the dragon’s mercy.”

“Need a helping hand?” said a voice from above. “Or in my case...need a helping talon? No, that just doesn’t sound right. How about: do you need a lift?”

“Huh?” uttered Aarian, looking overhead.

From out of nowhere, it seemed to the alliance, a narll patriarch gryphon came swooping down, its bulky brown-feathered wings flapping wildly while landing. Its chest’s white plumage swelled as it inhaled, producing a mighty squawk, its immense beak poking Aarian.

His face lit up when he gazed upon it. “Scar!” he cried out, hugging the gryphon. “Xen be praised. You’re alive. How can this be? What happened to you?”

“Hmmm,” he muttered. “So many questions. Which one should I answer first? Yes, well, you know I was almost smashed to bits when those meteors came down on us near the garden. It was so chaotic that I abandoned the idea of waiting for someone to open the temple door for me, at which point I flew up and got as far away from Jerelaith as I could. I’ve been hiding around here for years; the demons don’t have a habit of coming around here much. Well, at least until now.”

“I missed you so much,” said Aarian, tears of joy dripping down his eyes. “I thought you were dead.”

“Ah, I missed you too,” he said, rubbing his beak against Aarian’s face. “By the way, that is some fine armor you’ve got there. But, um, it has a few dents. And that shield...hmmm. I think you need a new one.”

“If only you saw it about an hour ago,” said Aarian, sighing. “I forged it myself—your face glorified it.”

“Mine?” said Scar, chuckling. “It must have been quite ugly.”

“Nonsense,” said Aarian, waving a hand. “So what if you have a scar on your face? It gives you character.”

Varkagorsa suddenly hawked, spitting out phlegm. Not a second later, Aarian apologized and introduced the alliance to Scar. The mighty swarm of savages were quite impressed that he was a narll, reminding them of their emperor. And just so, he was astonished with them. Seeing a legion of this magnitude certainly wasn’t something he expected to see in his lifetime. He bowed before them, as they did with him.

“Will you join us, Scar?” asked Aarian.

“Are you kidding?” replied Scar, raising an eyebrow. “Why do you think I asked if you needed a lift in the first place?”

Aarian smiled like never before, mounting his best friend while unsheathing his sword. “I think it’s time we pay a visit to that dragon hiding in the clouds. But this time I’ll need to use a lot more caution.”

“Caution is my middle name,” said Scar, taking off.

The new guardian flew sky-high, hastily approaching the dragon’s domain. Moments later, the swollen clouds released a torrential downpour of rain. Lightning flashed alongside the duo, deafening thunder filling their ears. Entering the dark clouds, they both searched for the dragon thoroughly. Scar was able to see better than Aarian, but it still proved a bit difficult for him to spot the possessed creature of flight.

Then, from the corner of his eye, Scar managed to see something fly toward him within the clouds. He promptly swooped left, maneuvering in a loop as the demonic dragon lunged forward. Snapping its jaws at Scar, it missed his feathery tail by an inch. Scar, being a much smaller beast of flight, was quick enough to flank the dragon. That instant, Scar glided beneath the dragon’s body, at which point Aarian stretched out his arm and sliced a part of its stomach. Blood squirted out, the dragon yelping monstrously. It immediately turned around and spewed fire at the duo.

Scar descended rapidly, evading the flame. He then flew through the clouds, drenched by the rain. Numerous flashes of lightning occurred, one appearing only a few feet away in front of them. Scar almost decided to swerve around what with him being surprised by the sudden flicker but stayed on course, increasing his speed. The dragon, meanwhile, wasn’t far behind him, flying at a fast pace.

“Hang on tight,” said Scar.

Once again, the dragon attempted to hurl flame at them. Scar, however, was far enough not to be affected by it. When the fire dissipated, he turned around and flew directly toward the dragon. At first, Aarian wasn’t sure why Scar was doing this. Then he smiled at him and raised his sword.

“Excellent thinking,” he said.

Replying with a nod, Scar flew past the dragon on the right side while Aarian swiped his sword to the left, cutting a part of its wing off. Screeching in pain, the possessed dragon swiped its spiky tail at Scar in retaliation. He zigzagged around the swirling tail, Aarian hacking it off. Blood gushed out from its torn appendage, the beast yelping so loud that the prince thought he was going to become deaf.

“Let’s finish this, Scar.”

The patriarch gryphon agreed, now flying overhead the black-scaled dragon that started to descend from the clouds. At this point, the alliance could see them battle. Deadly fire spewed from the dragon’s mouth yet again as it rotated upside down. Scar, however, rotated in sync with the creature, Aarian holding on tight with one hand while holding out his other. While upturned, Aarian thrust his blade into one of the dragon’s eyes. This time the demonic beast groaned, blood and pus spilling out. Then it fell lifelessly near the mountains, slamming so hard against a cluster of rocks that a violent landslide occurred.

“We did it!” shouted Scar elatedly, gliding back to the alliance. “We kicked the hell out of him!”

“That we did, my friend,” said Aarian, smiling.

Though still disconcerted and disheartened due to the death of the emperor, when the duo returned, the legion greeted them with countless applauses, praises, howls, and joyful grunts. As soon as Aarian dismounted Scar, the other Guardians of Xen lifted him while cheering. Many of the savages patted Aarian’s best friend. Scar blushed, especially when Shakar rubbed her snout against his feathers.

“This is splendid,” said Aarian awkwardly. “Truly, it is. But can you all please put me down?”

The guardians laughed and obeyed.

“You sure have changed, Prince Aarian,” said Xel’vakora. “I mean, considering how things were when we first traveled through Tor’kales...”

“I know,” sighed Aarian, aware of the brat he used to be.

“That was unbelievable,” said Parla’vasa, gawking at him. “You were already a dragon slayer. But this? I’ve never seen anyone fight like that before.”

“Please,” said Aarian, waving a hand. “I would have never been able to slay it without the help of Scar.” He embraced his best friend, rubbing his feathers. “You came at the perfect time. We make a great team.”

“That we do,” he said happily, squawking. “By the way, I take it you’re no longer Prince Moody?” The response he received was a long look; then they both chuckled heartily. “I had thought the worst. When the temple in Jerelaith shattered and demons started descending from the heavens, I abandoned all hope.”

“Back then I had abandoned all hope too,” he said.

“But things are different,” said Scar. “There is hope after all. Seeing you return with this army has made me so very proud of you. If only Master Dargain and Magi Frostwarm could see the man you have become.”

Aarian nodded, a bit teary eyed.

“All right,” intervened Varkagorsa, “enough with the sappy stuff. I know you’ve missed each other. But we have a war to win.”

“Right,” said Aarian, sniffing and tightening his face. “Scar, you’ve managed to survive here for the past five and a half years despite what’s happened. Have you seen anything as of late that we should be concerned with?”

“You mean besides a swarm of demons and undead humyns?” replied Scar. “Um, nope I don’t think so. Oh, wait. Actually, aside from the thousands that roam around the ruined cities, I noticed several demons that stand out from others. In fact, this may be heard to believe, but they have opened a hell rift in Jerelaith.”

Many groaned and gasped.

Aarian cursed under his breath. “I had a feeling this would happen. Xen warned me about this. We must reach Jerelaith and seal it.”

“The demons come first,” said the warlord.

“What comes first, Varka, is a good day’s rest,” responded Aarian. “We just survived a battle against four possessed dragons. It’s raining hard. And many of us are tired. I say we set up camp here and leave at dawn—the demons will be more vulnerable at that time.”

Most of the alliance agreed and then helped the guardians create makeshift tents. Though the temporary pavilions scattered around the barren land helped, water still seeped through their tents. Yet they made do and attempted to rest. During this time, Aarian explained everything he had been through to Scar.

“I can’t believe one dark elf caused so much destruction,” said Scar glumly. “Though, it does make me happy to know that you were able to vanquish him.”

“The descendents of Yunedar will never know he existed,” replied Aarian.

And with that said, they felt more at peace. At this point, Aarian entered his drenched tent and tried to sleep. Even though Scar watched over the prince outside for three hours, he was the first who fell into a deep slumber. Aarian, on the other hand, couldn’t fall asleep. He simply had too much on his mind.

He wondered whether Xen had truly given up her Spirit in order to give him a second chance. And though he didn’t show his feelings as outwardly as others, he felt a bit of despair that Earamathras had died. Would he be able to purge the demons from the world? He wasn’t sure. But having Scar by his side again made him feel slightly more optimistic. In a land filled with death and destruction, his best friend had managed to survive. Thinking about something positive for a change, he was finally able to relax and fall asleep.