Hehehe! Guess I lied about this being the last chapter; don't worry though, it's so close you can taste it. This forth part of the awesome battle Lilith and Phoebe undertake against
a male dominated society Edehna, rising through Adamus' impossible challenges and basically kicking ass. A character from FaustWolf's
Fata Morgana also appears in this story as a cameo, doing things that kids shouldn't do.
Adamus will hear his final knell in the next and (truly) final chapter,
Phantom Break. Yes, the famous RD move makes it in.
And now I take my earned night's repose.
Part 4 - LiberationI“Edehna’s army surrounds us, my lady,” Phoebe warned, surrounded by dozens of tight-fitted dancers and musicians of Zeal. “They will breach the threshold within a quarter hour.”
“This is bad,” King Zeal remarked. “The shadows are numerous, like dust clouds in the sky. But why the musicians?”
“We have our finest ones here, armed with instruments we’ve stolen from the Shikari tribe,” Phoebe giggled. “You’ll see eventually.”
“I hope you know what you are doing, girl,” Zabala statd sharply. “I do enjoy the serenity of hymns, but this hardly is a time for an orchestra. Also, these instruments are so... primitive.”
“We are at war with a primitive and barbaric mindset, Your Majesty,” Phoebe bowed, “one that has no respect for culture nor his people. As a civilized clan, it is our duty to give him a taste of his own medicine and reign superior in his realms.”
“Now you truly speak like a Zeal warrior,” Zabala smiled. “Our army is prepared, and ready for this battle.”
“Good. Now on my signal, please lead the army and flee to the Southern Island.”
“Huh?” The King blinked, flabbergasted. “What do you mean flee?”
“We won’t give in, but we couldn’t risk casualties either. Your Highness, I have a strong feeling that the Shikari may turn on us at our weakest moment. Do not worry, this battle or the next, I promise I will not soil the name of our clan.”
A whirlwind of emotion and doubt swirled within the King’s torso but, skeptical as he was, patted the witch’s shoulder before his farewell.
“My Prayer shall be with you.”
Phoebe took this as a sign of faith and watched the King and the army flee to the Southern Island as the skies grew a darker by the moment. With boundless fortitude she paced towards the musicians and finally announced:
“No matter how primitive an instrument, music will always remain the soul of the universe. So let us dance at the hymn of Great Edehna’s doom.”
******
IICue track -
Basileus (Corvus Corax)Shadows fluttered like an army of crows and grew closer by every beat of the heart, but the valiant Phoebe and her musicians awaited with every tremor of the lifting isle and shaking feet, their shivering spines and cold sweat down their necks. Time stretched before them as eternity, awaiting for darkness to breach their feint streak in the sky, and when the moment finally came the group burst into a performance.
Bagpipes blew in strange variations at the beating of several drums, and the dancers capered in synchronized rhythm. But it wasn’t they who danced to the music, but ‘twas the music that played to Phoebe’s jubilance. To and fro she leaped in grace, left and right the dancers bounced, and all the atmosphere grew to cheer with life in their breath and zeal in their hearts. The music raced to sound of drums, and off she bounced onto a cliff as she beamed towards the darkened clouds that withstood from bathing in blood. The streak above merely amplified their effect of the music. And she danced and swung, while the players followed their Maestro, while the darkened cloud flew amok and the spirits split asunder.
The sorcerers of Zeal were right to fear this darkness, for no amount of physical or magical attack could desist them. Spirits were never alive, and the casualties in battle would be of those that were. But if there was one thing Phoebe knew well it was that these spirits were echoes of lost dreams, restless screams and devastating emotional turmoil. But music was holy, music was pure, with a song inscribed in the heart’s of every life. Music affected the deepest consciousness and emotions that words may never reach, and only music could make her the master of those spirits and bolster her people’s ardor.
Mundify the darkness into light!With grace she pranced along her dancers, while the mad shadows swirled to her rhythm, and with care she spared a loving hand towards the breaking nightmare above until a fragment dropped before her, soiling her fingers with charcoal mist.
“And thy name shall be Percy,” said Phoebe.
“At your will, My Mistress,” said the shadow, transforming into bare-bodied boy with strange limbs, tail and ears as those of a rabbit’s.
She took his hand and led him through the throng that acquired their own Spiritual partner, and they waltzed a victory in ardent ceremony with laughter echoing under the cerulean. The darkness dispersed and the clouds vanished, and the laments of the damned turned to melodic chimes, while hither and tither the animals frolicked to their heart’s content, all burden forgotten.
With the fleeting of the notes through the instruments the dancers grew closer to their partner, with all the love of the moment that struck their heartstrings. And with a gentle kiss, or perhaps a peck on the cheek, the spirits smiled before they faded away, liberated. Farewells and gratitude echoed through the skies, and the people rejoiced at their impossible victory. ‘Twas not a battle, but a miracle.
“Lady Phoebe... this was a miracle!”
“Now we can finally get rid of these stupid instruments. Ugh!”
“No,” Phoebe remarked. “Prepare for the Finale, where I dance alone.”
******
In the caves, which devoured many Zeal warriors, now lay the corpses of its owner, littering the rocks with their blood and torn remains. That who was to die did not, but those who pledged loyalty unwittingly embraced death. The face of late Captain Ronald hung in vines at the ceiling, while Bernard stood in horror, alive and well though the scene scarred his soul.
“Lydia, what,” he hesitated, gulping. “You... you are Lydia, aren’t you?”
The woman who was once known as Lydia smiled back, a bloody scythe still clasped in her wrist.
“Forgive me, Bernard,” said she in a voice that was not her own. “They were... annoying me...”
With courage the boy stepped towards his fiance, but at a blink of an eye she vanished out of sight.
******
III
Cue track -
To Glory (Two Steps From Hell)And so it began with a final battle as Adamus welcomed his challenger, for every life lost in his realm shall strike his death-knell to a hundred. For he saw all of the joy and dances, and proclaimed it mundane and filthy coming from the lesser, and declared his attack. But his men hesitated, afraid, indecisive and confused. Many surrendered, a few remained.
The traitors... must be eliminated!The few marched ahead to draw blood of their very brothers that trusted them. And Phoebe saw all with her foresight, and began her virtuoso merit with a swing miles away in the sky. Trumpets played, drums struck, and footsteps closed in upon brothers, but before the daggers could touch the flesh Phoebe leaped in the air with a graceful swing. And the malicious dropped dead in a heartbeat, while somewhere a knell had rung, with their slayer standing proud with utmost disrespect to the dead. Her green, tainted hair shrouded her face while the blade of her scythe shined crimson, dropping fresh blood onto the snow. And yet she yearned for more.
Lydia she once was, though Lilith she actually was, a borrowed form for her safety in this world, where elements scattered here and there and harmed the essence of a transparent Shaitan like her. She knew not love, she knew not mercy, but she knew vengeance and hatred that never quenched.
Those that surrendered were spared and protected, while the rest who warred were slain. Lilith and Phoebes, with their minds as one, saw all in their path and destroyed any walls that stood in their way; Phoebe’s every swing was Lilith’s own, and the demon’s satisfaction contented her master easily. The strongest warriors succumbed to the reaper, for all they saw in their final blink was sinister smile of the witch. She fled like the wind through the caves, forests and corridors of Edehna and struck upon her enemies like a lightning strike. She burned the ancient remnants of the past, singed the essence the memories left by time, gashed and scarred until time bled crimson, and buried the ashes of humanity to the ground, A swing, a turn, a magical spell, and together they overcame all adversities, and the Scythe mauled and destroyed all that was once beautiful. And time itself stopped at her will as Phoebe danced while the great Edehna burned.
Adamus stood still as the knells persisted, one ofter another as quick as a heartbeat. He panicked and screamed, and ran amok until he grabbed the Flame once again:
“Who are they?” He cried.
“There is but one woman pulling the strings, and her name is Phoebe.”“The wretched Flame lies! Phoebe girl merely dances in the sky!”
“But her Shaitan dances at her will. Her Shaitan, that you were responsible for making.”Abbyzou, Adamus thought at once and glanced at his wife Eve, who showed no expression but a distant, unaware smile. Another death knell broke his thoughts and he demanded:
“Bring me spirits from the depths of the Abyss, of the darkest corner and hottest blazes.”
“It... cannot be done...” The Flame, for the first time since the dawn of dreams, hesitated.
“Ifrits! Bring them to me!” He screamed again.
“...As you desire...”
And it was done; a dozen Ifrits of unmatched strength appeared before him, their aura belching fires as hot as the sun incinerated every object in the room but their master and his wife.
“The courtroom,” Adamus commanded. “Abbyzou will come there next; await her.”
And without a ponder the Ifrits disappeared.
The witch flew to through the corridors striking the ninety-ninth knell towards the courtroom, her scythe flailing behind her, and the demons of fire that bested the strongest spirits and sorcerers awaited her. The doors fell open, an inferno fell upon whoever may have been unfortunate, and when the heat calmed...
… there was not an ash. The witch never entered, nor was her presence felt, but of two intruders of lesser power. The Ifrits searched and bellowed, and singed all things that the suspects could have hidden.
“Seith, they know we’re here!” Said the voice of a little girl.
“...Sheima, you’re an idiot,” said the voice of a little boy. “
Glacier!”
The rooms froze with a crash of cold waves and encased everything, including the Ifrits, in diamond-hard ice. From within the frozen walls materialized water, forming in the shape of a boy, and from the floor’s reflection emerged another, a beautiful girl who’s face grew pale in the cold.
“W-wha-wo-w-...
achhoo!” Sheima sneezed.
Seith sighed and tapped his twin sister with a magical touch, and she grew warmer.
“Oh!” Sheima exclaimed. “Magic Coat!”
“Miss Sheima Creojeanne, can’t you remember simple spells even in the most dire situations?”
Sheima pouted. “I can’t help it! Dad keeps throwing a barrage of books at me! I feel bored.”
“You feel too much.”
“And you
think too much!” She snapped. “War is a grown-up’s job. Why must you drag me all the way here?”
She awaited response, but Seith did not reply. And then it dawned on her; she was better at he at magic, and it was always she who saved him in the most troubled times. A smile played on her innocent face.
The first pillar of ice encasing an Ifrit began to crackle, and the twins took notice immediately. A second crack, and they fled to the corridors once again.
“We can’t beat them!” Sheima screamed.
“We aren’t
supposed to beat them,” Seith corrected. “Just distract them from you-know-who.”
“I know who exactly?” Sheima blinked, puzzled.
An Ifrit, free from the encasing and growing massive, fiery wings, flew at their direction. Sheima aimed behind her and casted a devastating spell, while the Ifrit prepared his detonation.
******