She giggled. "How sad."
"Indeed."
Mirra's mirth died as he raised
a hand and ran his fingers down her cheek in a feather-light caress
that made her breath catch. She sensed an intensity invade the air,
and a hush fell, as if the forest held its breath too. A slight
smile tugged at his mouth, as though he too sensed the tension
around them, and knew the reason for it. His fingers came to rest
under the curve of her jaw, and he hesitated, then leant forward.
She closed her eyes as his lips touched hers.
The world fell away in a
dizzying rush, and it seemed as if her heart stopped and a
firestorm consumed the domain. All the strength drained out of her.
She had no idea what kept her upright, except perhaps the paralysis
his touch engendered. His lips were warm and firm, just as she had
always imagined, and he tasted of spring water with a hint of mint.
This close, she was able to discern his faint scent, which was akin
to sun-baked stone, as if he was a product of the ethers whose
mortal form remained aloof from the defilement of the realm in
which he was forced to dwell.
So it was, to be kissed by a
god, whose touch turned her flesh to fire and her mind to mush. She
could sense his presence as if he radiated energy in glorious waves
of an aura so profound it made her tremble. Just to be so close to
him was almost unbearable, akin to worship. An intense celestial
ecstasy. She sensed something within her change, the essence of her
being reforming. Waves of tingles swept through her, like sparkles
in her flesh. Not only was she unable to move, other than to
respond to his caress, but also a profound silence engulfed her, as
if something kept the world at bay. Yet all that mattered was his
kiss, which imparted a wealth of gentle passion and leashed power
with an undertone of surprising uncertainty.
Mirra marvelled at the seductive
beauty of it, and knew why he had not kissed her before. With him,
it went far beyond the mundane caress of a human courting couple.
It raised her up to the realm of a deity, making her, in essence,
his equal for that moment. She had captured the heart of a god.
That finally hit home as he opened himself to her, and everything
became clear. She had strayed within his aura every time they
touched, but now he enfolded her in it, suffusing her with a power
that owed nothing to the darkness, but was his alone.
Mirra opened her eyes as he drew
back, bereft at the loss of his touch and a little dazed. She
wondered how much of his allure was bequeathed by his former use of
the darkness, and how much stemmed purely from his godhood. It
seemed as if hours had passed, but the birds still sang the same
songs as they had been before, so only moments had gone by. A shy
smile quirked his lips as he met her eyes.
She let out her pent breath.
"You knew that would happen."
"Unfortunately, yes. You will
get used to it, I hope."
If his kiss was so overwhelming,
she reflected, what would their wedding night be like? The thought
made her shiver. Perhaps by then she would be accustomed it, as he
said.
"It was beautiful," she
whispered.
His fingers caressed her cheek,
making her skin tingle. "It is my aura. Had I done that while I
carried the dark power, you would have been instantly corrupted by
it."
"I think I was, anyway."
He chuckled. "But not in a bad
way. I cannot prevent it, I am afraid."
"I do not want you to. It was
magical."
He averted his eyes. "Actually,
it was celestial. One of the penalties of being... what I am, even
if only a mortal one. I possess an aura many times more powerful
than yours, and when I allow you within it, it can be overwhelming,
I suppose."
"In a good way," she assured
him.
"I am glad you found it so."
"Who would not?" She paused,
leaning against him. "But I kissed you while you carried the
darkness, and it did not corrupt me."
"Yes. You kissed me. Big
difference."
"I noticed. Why is that?"
He looked down at her. "You took
me by surprise, and I did not respond, so my aura did not touch
you. It is an extension of my will, and controls my powers. When I
was filled with the shadows my aura was dark, and had it touched
you then, and had you surrendered to it, the darkness would have
possessed you."
"So if you ever take up the
darkness again, you will not be able to kiss me?"
"No. It would corrupt you." He
frowned. "But I have no intention of doing that. I never wish to
feel like that again."
"How did it make you feel?"
"Evil."
She glanced up at him, startled
by his terse reply. "Did you think of yourself as evil, then?"
"Yes. I was proud of it. Evil
was power and pleasure. Good was weakness and toil."
"And now?"
He looked away. "Evil is
depraved."
"And goodness?"
"Evil is still
stronger than good. I just do not want to be that way
anymore."
"Yet the white fire defeated the
shadows in the final battle, did it not?"
He smiled wryly. "Because I
wielded it, yes. The Goddess is incapable of using it as I did, and
it would have incinerated an ordinary mortal long before Arkonen
was destroyed. The light itself is stronger than the darkness.
Ironically, it is its wielders who are weak."
"Gentle."
"Gentleness is weakness, when it
makes them incapable of defending themselves."
She nodded. "Then it is only
weakness when faced with evil."
"What other measure of strength
is there, other than when it is required to defeat an
adversary?"
"Yet it was the gentleness in
you that turned you to the light."
"And my ruthlessness that
allowed me to use it as a weapon."
"So that makes you the best of
both worlds. With you, the power to destroy evil finally belongs to
the light."
Bane closed his eyes and let the
peaceful woodland lull him with its soft sounds and sweet scents.
An unknown future stretched ahead like an unexplored country. All
he wanted now was to share a peaceful life with Mirra and enjoy the
happiness he had not known existed before he had turned from the
darkness. Perhaps, in time, people would forget about him. He only
wished that he too could forget that he was, and always would be,
the Demon Lord.
*****
The tale continues in Book
III,
Grey God
,
followed by Book IV,
God
Realm
, and Book V,
Dark Domain
.
About the author
T. C. Southwell was born in Sri Lanka and
moved to the Seychelles when she was a baby. She spent her
formative years exploring the islands – mostly alone. Naturally,
her imagination flourished and she developed a keen love of other
worlds. The family travelled through Europe and Africa and, after
the death of her father, settled in South Africa.
T. C. Southwell has written over forty
novels, ranging from fantasy and science fiction to romance and
adventure, as well as five screenplays. Her hobbies include
motorcycling, horse riding and art, and she earns a living in the
IT industry.
All illustrations and cover designs by the
author.
Visit the Demon Lord blogspot:
http://www.demon-lord-book.blogspot.com
Acknowledgements
Mike Baum and Janet Longman, former
employers, for their support, encouragement, and help. My mother,
without whose financial support I could not have dedicated myself
to writing for ten years. Isabel Cooke, former agent, whose
encouragement and enthusiasm led to many more books being written,
including this one. Suzanne Stephan, former agent, who has helped
me so much over the past six years, and Vanessa Finaughty, good
friend and business partner, for her support, encouragement and
editing skills.
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