A cold stab of loss and
desolation shot through him, and the river of sorrow overflowed
within him, saturating him with emptiness, an aching void that
nothing could ever fill. Slow, painful tears forced their way into
his eyes and flowed down his face like threads of ice. He bowed his
head, confused by the overpowering emotion for which he had no
name. Driven by an urge he did not understand, he gathered her into
his arms and cradled her against his chest. For the first time, he
held another human being. Her face was peaceful, a faint smile
still curving her lips as it had when she had slipped away from
him. The cold wind whipped his hair, tearing at the cloak that
swirled around him, rising to a shriek that mocked his despairing
words.
"No. I will not let you go."
Rage filled him, a fury the
likes of which he had not experienced before. Dammed for so long in
the depths of his heart, his bitterness and hatred for the world
that had so misused him burst from him in a savage scream. It
mingled with his sorrow to form an overwhelming emotion that
threatened his sanity. She would not slip away from him now. He was
the Demon Lord. He held the fate of this world in his hands, and
death would not defeat him. Raising his face to the stormy sky, he
shouted his defiance and pain to the wind.
"You will not leave me now! I
shall tear this world asunder! I will bring you back!"
Bane bent and laid her on the
ground, then stood up and raised his arms. Black fire exploded from
him, channelled up his arms to rip a pit of utter blackness in the
heavens, tearing the clouds apart. As they rolled aside with
majestic splendour, agony stabbed through him and his heart
hammered. A ray of sunshine shot down, gilding Mirra's pale skin.
He glared at the hole in the clouds with ink-black eyes, and his
savage cry rent the storm's wail, powered by the darkness.
"Hear me, Lady! I am the Demon
Lord! Return her to me, or your Overworld dies!"
Bane lashed
out, uncaring of the destruction he wrought, he flung the power
from him with sweeping, savage gestures. The forest behind him
burst into flames as the dark fire razed it. The ground opened in a
yaw
ning pit that swallowed
yellow grass and dying trees. The Overworld perished in the
spreading ring of malevolence that rippled from him, crisping the
dry grass, burning the soil with a soft sizzling whine. The black
circle of a demon surrounded him, killing all it touched with the
power that blazed from him unchecked, the runes glowing with
brilliant fire. He ignored the shafts of agony that spiked his
brain, consumed by a grief that dwarfed the pain in his
skull.
"Return her to me, damn you! I
will destroy this world and all in it! None can stop me,
Goddess!"
Again he flung
wide his arms, unleashing a tide of power that rolled across the
land in a black wave, consuming all in its path. The earth
trembled,
and lightning, this
time his own, hammered into the ground in an unending barrage,
followed by roars of thunder that all but deafened him, goading the
searing agony in his skull. He clutched his head, dark magic
licking over him in a deadly dance. The wind howled, buffeting him,
and he looked down at Mirra's peaceful face, self-loathing
suffusing him.
Ban
e fell to his
knees and gathered her into his arms again, yearning for the warmth
of life in her. She was limp and cold, her cheek pressed to his
black shirt beneath which the scars of evil power burnt with dull
red light. The emptiness within him swelled, and the agony of the
dark magic weakened him, yet he could not snuff it out without
risking his demise. His fate was sealed unless the Lady intervened,
and he did not care if he died now. Nothing mattered.
The dark world vanished, taking
with it the roar of thunder and howling wind, plunging him into
utter stillness. Bane froze, his arms tightening about the dead
girl. Sweeping pillars of ice penned him in on all sides, and his
eyes narrowed as he gazed around. Fury burnt like a hot coal in his
chest. He knelt in the centre of an ice cavern, frozen columns
disappearing into the gloom high above. Between each pillar a white
flame floated, throwing pale glimmers into the translucent ice. The
pain in his head was gone, though the dark fire still licked over
his hands. He leashed it into his bones, where it smouldered with
sullen animosity.
Bane lowered Mirra to the dry,
sandy floor. Stretching out his senses, he found nothing beyond the
pillars, as if the world ended there. The white flames told him
that his abductor was the Lady, and a grim satisfaction warmed him.
He turned to Mirra and pulled out the bolt with an angry jerk,
flinging it away, then wiped the blood from her face with a corner
of his cloak. Her skin had paled, taking on a waxen quality. The
cavern remained silent, the flames flickering in their niches,
filling it with peace. Bane looked around with growing impatience,
his fury a dull ache.
"Show yourself, damn you. Speak
to me or strike me down. Do something!" His voice rose. "Give her
back to me, or your precious Overworld perishes, Goddess."
Silence
answered him, mocking his rage. He wondered what would happen if he
lashed out again with the dark magic, but had a nasty suspicion
that it would do him no good. In the cavern's silence he waited,
the emptiness within him growing until he thought it would devour
him. His despair congeal
ed
into a solid lump of anguish and his heart became as cold as the
frozen pillars.
A flare of
light made him look up. One of the white flames swelled,
brightening the cavern with ghostly light. It formed a glowing
female figure against the glimmering blue of the ice wall, an
indistinct form clad in a flowing, iridescent gown. Its radiance
filled the cavern with peace and serenity, a spiritual warmth that
flowed from it in gentle waves. A
female face with a firm jaw and slanted, pale green eyes,
mahogany hair and golden skin formed within the radiance. A glowing
rainbow nimbus surrounded her pale visage, and golden sparkles
glimmered in her eyes. A face perhaps too strong for true beauty,
but filled with a regal presence that left no doubt in his mind as
to who she was. Her pale lips parted.
"We meet at
last,
My Lord." She spoke in
a soft, melodic voice.
He regarded her coldly.
"Lady."
"You called upon me, Demon
Lord."
"Indeed, what is your
answer?"
"You mourn the one who lies
before you. Why?"
"I did not want her to die."
"She has
nothing to fear from death,
My Lord."
"I know."
"So why do you mourn her? Are
you not glad that she is dead? Did you not want to kill her?"
"No. At first, I thought I did,
but I could not... I was misled."
The Lady smiled with sweet
benevolence. "And now you want her back."
"Yes."
"Why, Bane? Did you not say that
you do not need anyone? Why would you want her back? To suffer the
brunt of your temper, and follow you like a cur?"
Bane
went cold as the blood drain from
his cheeks.
"Yes,
My Lord." The Lady's eyes softened.
"I have watched you too. Think you that I do not see
all?"
"Did you bring me here to taunt
me?" Bane's rage tried to break through the wall of ice that
trapped it. "Is this your punishment for the wrongs I have done?
Beware, Goddess, your Overworld will be destroyed without my
intervention."
She
shook her head. "This is not the
Underworld, My Lord. I do not taunt or jeer. It is not my way. Why
would you want her back, when you intend to abandon her and return
to the Underworld?"
"If that is your condition, I
will stay in the Overworld."
"So, you need her."
He hesitated, confused. "I want
her back. Return her to me."
"But why do you want her back?
You do not care for her, do you? You do not know the meaning of
love, nor do you wish to."
"What do you want of me?"
"I want
nothing,
My Lord. It is you
who want something you have never had, something you have always
longed for. She gave it to you. Now you have lost her, and you
never returned it."
Bane frowned. "I do not know
what you mean."
"What about her needs? Did you
ever stop to consider her?"
He looked down
at the girl and stroked her c
heek. No words could express his pain.
"Ah,
Bane."
She sighed. "I feel
your sorrow. Why did you never caress her when she lived? Can you
only touch her corpse so tenderly? What it must be, to be caressed
so, by the hand of the Demon Lord. What a shame it is too
late."
"It is not too late. You can
bring her back. You are a goddess!"
"Why should I? Why do you not?
Are you not the all-powerful Demon Lord?"
"I cannot, as you well
know."
"So, you need my help."
"You need mine
more, or your Overworld will die
," he retorted.
"Ah, but did she not only suffer
at your hands?"
"She will not again, I swear
it."
S
he shook her head in
gentle reproof. "That is not enough."
"Then what do you want?" Bane's
voice rose, harsh with pain. "I will fight the Black Lord, free the
Overworld, but only if she lives."
"Tell me what you would give to
her."
"Just give her back to me!"
The pale radiance faded. "I will
not send her precious soul back to sup the dregs from your table,
Demon Lord."
"Wait! Do you care nothing for
the Overworld? Will you let it perish?"
T
he light that
enshrined her pulsed. "I will ask the question one last time. Only
when you admit it to me, will you admit it to yourself. What do you
feel for her?"
He shook his head, confused and
angry. "How should I know what it is? I have not felt anything like
it before. It weakens me, and I hate it. It is an Overworld
emotion, born of their puny flesh, of which it now seems I am a
part. Send her back, and I shall not harm or abandon her. More than
that you will not get from me, since I have no more to give. Make
of that what you will."
"You may not
know what it is you feel, but I do. You love her, Bane." Her green
eyes
glowed. "Very well, I
shall return her to you, but you will provide the life force to
bring her back. It will be your punishment, and it is no small
thing, for suffering is something of which you have had far too
much."
Bane looked
down at Mirra, frowning. Nothing would be too great a sacrifice, if
it brought her back. He groaned as a terrible weight seemed to fall
on him, making him slump. A deep cold invaded him, and his strength
drained from him as if an artery had been opened and his blood
flooded out. His vision darkened, and the cave spun sickeningly. A
trembling weakness followed on the heels of the cold, and the
crushing weight pressed down on him so he laboured to breathe, his
heart racing. Sweat ran down his brow, yet he shivered as the
terrible cold froze his gut.
He gasped, drawing breath with a great effort, and wondered
if he was dying.
Mirra
sighed. Her skin blossomed with
golden radiance, and the wound in her chest vanished, leaving only
the bloodstain on her robe. Her waxy pallor faded as colour
returned to her skin. He struggled to stay conscious to witness the
miracle of her return to life, but a black curtain descended and
oblivion washed over him.
When Bane woke, he lay on his
back, a sour taste in his mouth. He sat up, fighting the quivering
weakness of his limbs, which barely obeyed him, and examined his
hands, expecting to find withered skin and liver spots. They looked
no different, but he knew something of what the Goddess had done,
and wondered how many years of his life he had given to bring Mirra
back from the dead. He ached, and his stomach tried to crawl into
his mouth.
Mirra slept, her skin warm, a
pulse beating in the hollow of her throat.
"Bane."
He looked up at the Goddess, who
gazed down at him with gentle, glowing eyes.
"Some of your life has been
given to her, as you rightly suspect. As for your threat. Yes. You
could have forced my hand, for I will not let the Overworld die if
I can find a way to save it, but it is better this way, for both of
us. You may yet lose her again, Demon Lord, for she is in great
peril. When your hour is blackest, and your need greatest, remember
this; no one can stand alone always."
Bane opened
his mouth to ask what she meant, but her radiant visage vanished.
He looked down at Mirra, the ice within him thawing. The glow under
her skin had paled, and she shivered in the cave's chill. He
unclipped his cloak and wrapped her in it, but she continued to
shiver, and he glared around at the ice pillars, finding that
they
, too, had vanished. The
grey walls of an Overworld cave replaced the Lady's sanctum, watery
sunlight coming through the mouth a few feet away.
Bane rose and went in search of
wood, finding a scrubby, windswept hillside outside. When he had
gathered enough fuel, he piled it beside the sleeping girl and
lighted it with his fire, not caring about the tingle that jabbed
through his head. The blaze warmed the cave, and he knelt beside
it, feeding it dry twigs.
Mirra's
shivers lessened, and her breathing quickened as she began to wake.
He watched her, trying to analyse the strange emotion that had
driven him to call upon the Goddess for aid, something he would
never have otherwise considered doing. After several
minutes,
she sighed, and her
eyes opened, roving the cavern before coming to rest on him. She
looked confused and vaguely alarmed.