Scars and Burns (No Light Without the Dark #1)

5. Aeron

5

Aeron

W ounded, I know I can’t return home yet. Somehow, my Father found out I let those two females escape from the raid. They fled to the Middle Kingdom. The woman marrying King Elio. Who proposed a marriage packed between their heir and Queen Ayla’s. Creating an alliance between them and the Celestial Realm. Their forces and power now match that of our own. Halting our plans of attack. My Father was furious and I paid the price.

My leg bears a huge gash in my thigh. I mustered the strength to teleport myself away before my Father could strike another blow.

Disappearing through a cloud of black smoke. I transported myself to a stream in the forest. My Mother used to bring me here before she died. Showing me the beauty of nature. Exploring the plants and animals. I don’t come here nearly as often as I would like. The forest isn’t safe anymore. Not since my Mother died and my Father began expanding his dark forces. Resurrecting dark creatures for the war to come.

I’m losing too much blood. I’ll never make it back, not without help. But who would help me? I’m the son of the deadliest man in all three realms. Destined to bring death and darkness.

I sit at the stream’s edge. Trying to wash out my wound the best I can. I wince in pain. Ugh, why couldn’t I have been blessed with healing magic?

Then I hear a rustle in the tree line. I freeze. If it’s another Fae I may be able to use my shadow magic enough to hinder them. However, if it’s an animal, and a dark one at that, I’m doomed. Bracing myself for the worst, I stand and hold my sword up ready to fight.

Surprised, when I see the very woman I let go appear. She walks over to me. No fear in her eyes. No hatred for my kind. She simply smiles and lowers my sword.

I’m too stunned to speak. Still bleeding out. I collapse to the ground. She kneels down beside me. Hovering her hands over my wound. I just stare at her. She closes her eyes. There’s a glow of moonlight from her hands. Then she removes them. I look down and my wound is gone. Not even a scar. No evidence that there used to be an six inch long gash down my thigh that was at least a few inches deep.

The rest of my body is riddled with scars. Each one given to me by my Father. All for numerous offensives against him. I wasn’t quick enough. I didn’t strike hard enough. I wasn’t ruthless enough. I showed too much mercy, weakness, doubt, or even fear. Anything other than being a perfect killing machine for him to use as he pleases.

I look up and swallow to say, “Thank you”, pausing before I speak again.

“Why did you heal me?”

She smiles at me, “Why did you let us go?”

My eyes widened. How did she know? She was fleeing for her life, not even looking in my direction.

We stare at each other for a moment. Me in shock. Her with the same endearing smile.

“I… I don’t know. Something inside of me just told me not to. ”

She hums. Taking a seat beside me before asking, “Who cut your leg?”

“Training accident. I’m still relatively new at it. Made a huge mistake.” I lie.

She looks at me. I can already tell she doesn’t believe my tale.

“I know who you are. I know who your Father is. What he is capable of.” She pauses, “I’m sorry”.

I look down. Something about her makes me want to talk to her. To confide in her. Maybe it’s because she healed me. Maybe it’s because in all other aspects of my life I am completely alone. I can’t remember the last time someone just sat and talked with me. Perhaps it’s because I’m either always looked at with disapproval or disappointment. I’m not sure but for whatever reason I trust her.

“It’s my destiny to follow in my Father’s footsteps. He wants to unite the realms in darkness and I must see it through. The only way to do that is to be strong. Formidable. Ruthless. Deadly.” I say matter of factly.

“Come now, your Mother taught you better than that.”

What?

My Mother died when I was five. I hardly even remember her through all the years of torture and killing. “Did… did you know her?”

“Yes, I knew her very well. We were friends once, long ago. We grew up together in the same village. Inseparable for years. But the Goddess had different life plans for us. We would often write to one another. Keeping one another informed of the other’s life. She was so happy when you were born. She loved you very much.”

“I barely remember her. Sometimes I feel guilty for not remembering more.”

“Do not feel guilty. You were so young when she was taken from you. So much has happened since then. It’s hard to remember the good things we used to have when the darkness is so all consuming.”

“I miss her”

“Me too little light. Me too.”

I look up at her. Giving a small laugh, “Little light, she used to call me that. “

“I know. Every letter after you were born she would mention you as the light of her life.”

“I always thought it was ironic given my dark purpose and the fire that burns inside of me. Never calming. Always burning and raging on to be released.”

“She was filled with much sorrow when your Father began forcing his will onto you. Dragging you into the darkness.”

Giving another small laugh, “Before she died, she told me I would be the light in another’s life. After seeing what I’ve become. A boy of nine. Forced to become a man. Killing and torturing others for sport. I’m sure her views would have changed.”

She looks at me in admiration, “You will be the light in another’s life.”

“How?” I ask, staring up at her.

“That you will have to find out for yourself.”

By that I couldn’t possibly know what she meant. She stands. Grabbing my hands and pulling me up to her. “Do not fret, little light. So much has yet to be seen but much has been foretold.”

I watch her leave. Teleporting back to my room in the Shadowlands. Laying there. Recalling how no one but my Mother has ever shown me such grace and kindness. That’s when it dawns on me. She was from the Celestial Realm and grew up in the same village as my Mother. Does that mean my Mother was from there? Am I of mixed blood?