Blood Immortal
Epilogue

Epilogue

Breath After Death

Aarian reappeared in the realm of Yunedar, dropping only five feet from the air. By the time he hit the ground, the magical portal above dissipated. Aarian then examined himself and realized that he strangely wore his golden armor even though he’d recklessly ruined it when turning into his demon form during the battle at Jerelaith. Upon seeing it undamaged, he nodded at himself, realizing this was the last form of magic he’d experience from a Spirit; they were now extinct, as were the demons.

He got to his feet and found himself in a garden littered with vibrant flowers, bushes, and grass. Trees surrounded him too. Though the land looked untainted, he had a feeling that he was still in Vlydyn rather than Lar’a’dos, which had a tendency to look like this beautiful garden. As he walked ahead, he noticed a grove. In it stood a moonstone shrine with a marble sculpture of himself wearing his gryphon suit of armor.

A few tiny fairies hovered over the statue. When he approached, they quickly fluttered north and returned to the woods. Aarian glanced around the grove to see if other beings were there, but he was alone. He then looked at a silver plaque below the statue, which read:

“Sacred to the memory of King Aarian of Vlydyn, Protector of Lar’a’dos, Dralekar of Niratredam, and Savior of Yunedar. May he be remembered not only as the last humyn who represented a noble race but also as a Master, gifted by the touch of Xen.”

When he spotted the year in which the memorial had been created, his eyes widened. It was literally one year after the war. He observed the ionic pillars surrounding the shrine and sat down on the second of three steps, breathing in fresh air and taking in the grove’s beauty. It had been a long time since he’d seen something so beautiful without having to worry about a deadly battle. As he sat there, he heard a chorus of insects and a fairly quiet squawk. Yet the longer he sat there, the louder the squawk became. Aarian eventually got up and turned around, noticing Scar behind the statue.

“I knew you would come back,” said Scar emotionally.

“Scar!” responded Aarian in disbelief, running over to his best friend and hugging him tighter than ever. “After seeing this shrine and realizing everyone thinks I’m dead, I thought I’d never see you again.”

“Nonsense,” said Scar, a tear falling down his feathery face.

“My goodness,” said Aarian, relieved. “What happened to the others? Did they return to their homelands?”

Scar nodded and answered, “Warlord Varkagorsa and his remaining legion returned to Niratredam with the dwarves. Not only are they now allies, but Varkagorsa has also become the new emperor of Warenyth.”

“Amazing,” said Aarian. “He, above all, deserves that. Please, tell me more. I want to know everything that happened.”

“There are many druids and high elves that have decided to stay here,” said Scar. “They want Vlydyn to heal. Though they may not be in this exact location, they certainly dwell here, making sure the land recovers. As for Princess Parla’vasa, she mourned your death and took it very hard. She stayed here until the shrine was built and then couldn’t bear it anymore. It pained her to be here, so she returned to Lar’a’dos and formed a new council of High Rulers to watch over the continent.”

“What about Shakar?”

“She decided to stay in Vlydyn,” replied Scar, squawking. “Since she had lost her pack she decided to live the rest of her life here. Many druids shape-shift as werewolves to make her feel less lonely.”

“I’m glad,” said Aarian, gazing at the canopy. “It seems that everyone has moved on with their lives and has found some measure of peace.”

“Except for me,” snorted Scar playfully. “Until now at least.”

Aarian smiled and hugged him again. “Say,” he began optimistically, “how about we go on that special adventure you told me about before I got sucked into limbo.”

“Ah,” said Scar elatedly. “But wait. Don’t you want to travel to Lar’a’dos and be with the princess? After all that’s happened, I feel Parla’vasa fell in love with you and wished for nothing more than to share her life with you.”

“I can’t do it, Scar,” said Aarian, sighing. “Be disappointed in me if you must. But I have learned my lesson, and no matter what happens I will never again be forced into something that I cannot cope with. Princess Parla’vasa is a fine elf. Yet she is not the one I fell in love with. And you know more than anyone else that politics just isn’t my forte.”

Scar chuckled and replied, “Very well. You have become a master of your own self and stand by all your decisions without regret or hesitation. It means you have truly become the man whom Master Dargain always wanted you to be.”

“As usual your words touch me, my friend,” said Aarian, petting him. “So, what are we waiting for?”

“Hop on!”

The moment Aarian mounted him, Scar spread his wings and flew south. Aarian could see the forest of Grisfall, happy that it was growing back again. The sun shone brightly, a blue sky greeting him with not a single cloud in sight. Breathing in the fresh air, he sighed with relief. The wind occasionally stirred, pressing against him gently. He embraced the gorgeous weather, not to mention the ride.

“Where are we going first?” asked Aarian.

“I’m taking you to the southern island of Tawajin,” said Scar. “Despite it being close to Vlydyn, it wasn’t affected by the demonic incursion.”

“That is a blessing,” said Aarian. “I heard it’s a paradise there.”

“Wait until you see it,” replied Scar, gliding. “Just hold on tight. We’ll be there before midday.”

After several hours of flying swiftly above Vlydyn, Scar reached the Crey’falen Ocean and continued south. Aarian never felt bored. He appreciated the magnificent view, especially when he gazed upon the seemingly endless water. And sure enough, by midday Aarian spotted Tawajin in the distance. The coast had a breathtaking beach of white sand littered with lustrous seashells. About a mile north of the shoreline lay fertile land. The rest of the tropical island was covered by a wilderness that matched the beauty of forests in Lar’a’dos.

“Now this is an adventure,” said Aarian, gleaming.

“I knew you’d be impressed,” said Scar. “But if you think this is nice, wait until you see some of the waterfalls in the wilderness.”

Scar started to descend toward Tawajin, gliding while sporadically flapping his wings. As soon as he reached the beach, he glided through the colorful wilderness where dryads and water nymphs dwelled. The duo passed by many streams and waterfalls. There was one, however, that dazzled Aarian more than any of the others. Before him lay a grove with a simple wooden home surrounded by trees bearing various fruits. And behind the home stood cascading waterfalls that gently fell to a plunge pool. Even more beautiful was the rainbow that hung above, between the home and waterfalls.

This is where Scar landed, allowing Aarian to dismount him and observe the amazing landscape. Without even thinking about it, he felt this could be his home. He didn’t need the luxuries he’d been spoiled with as a prince so many years ago. All he needed was peace of mind and a touch of nature. Unfortunately, someone already lived here. In fact, when he realized this he was about to withdraw and climb back on Scar to continue his journey of a lifetime.

Not a moment later, the owner of the home stepped outside, calmly staring at him. She was a slim young lady with auburn hair and green eyes. Aarian gazed blankly at her, as if he’d trespassed and should be reproached.

“Belisa,” he managed to utter.

They immediately rushed into each other’s arms and hugged so tightly that it was as if the world depended on it. Scar watched them, happily squawking, and knew that he’d made the right decision by bringing Aarian here.

“Scar told me everything that happened,” said Belisa, tears of joy in her eyes. “And even though I doubted him, he kept telling me to have faith that you would return.”

“I don’t understand,” said Aarian, mystified. “How did you survive?”

“I’m not sure if you remember,” began Belisa, “but Magi Frostwarm was initially going to bring us both here. When you left, he entered the prayer room and was kind enough to ask me if I still wanted to live in Tawajin. I almost said no. Yet when I imagined seeing you married to someone else, I just couldn’t bear to see that. So, I accepted his offer. He then used his magic to teleport me here.”

Aarian turned to Scar, his brow raised. “You knew about this all along?”

“I wish,” replied Scar. “Dargain had told me about the plan when you left to the temple of Thay’tal before the wedding. Yet when you returned to marry Princess Parla’vasa, I was sad and kept quiet. Then the invasion occurred. I had feared the worst. For years I thought you were both dead. Trying to escape, I flew here. That’s when I found Belisa.”

She smiled and said, “I made Scar promise me that if he found you he’d try to convince you to return to...what was her name? Parla’vasa?”

“Ah, a test,” said Aarian. “I deserved that.”

They then smiled, lost in each other’s eyes, and finally kissed. Their sacred kiss was one of lost years and everlasting love. And from that point on, they lived out the rest of their mortal lives on the small tropical island of Tawajin.

To the world of Yunedar, humynity had become something of a legend. King Aarian, the Dralekar who vanquished the demons from the world, was venerated as an eternal Spirit. Despite the humyn race being mortal, the mythical elves, dwarves, orcs, trolls, werewolves, fauns, and every other creature in the world had come to revere humynity as a race of noble beings who’d valiantly sacrificed their lives so that the other races could live on in peace. And no matter how many eons had passed, the saga of the Dralekar endured in their hearts. It endured until the end of time.