Ethan did not flinch or look away, even when he saw the blade begin its descent. Any fear within him was now gone. There was nothing more he could do to protect himself. His spirit may be leaving him, but he would still face his death as a man; as a soldier; and as a Dragonvein.
What happened next was a blur. A flash of light and motion passed between himself and the falling sword an instant before it would have finished his existence forever. Martok’s weapon somehow disappeared into this intruding disturbance, leaving him open-mouthed in astonishment. From the corner of his right eye, Ethan saw a figure of a man kneeling and clutching at his chest. Tiny lights were spewing forth like a fountain from a huge open wound.
Martok saw him too. At first, all he did was stare blankly. Then a horrified expression washed over him as the man looked up.
“No!” The agonized cry came from the very depths of Martok's being. Forgetting about Ethan, he ran to the man’s side. “Why would you do this? Why?”
The man opened his mouth to speak, but no words were able to come forth. As if the effort had drained him completely, he collapsed back in a forlorn heap.
“Father...please,” Martok cried. He pulled Ralmar’s hands away from the gaping wound and covered it with his own. But any attempt at healing was useless. Within seconds, all of Ralmar’s spirit had gushed out. As the last fleck of light departed, his body became totally transparent as it began breaking up into ever-diminishing pieces of pale light. In less than a minute, he was gone completely.
“No..No!” Martok cried out repeatedly. He pounded his fists on the ground as tears streamed down his face.
Ethan struggled to his knees, but was still too weak to stand. Realizing that Martok had called the dead man his father, the full gravity of what had just taken place washed over him.
Martok’s eyes blazed across the distance separating them, his face contorted with anguish and fury. “You are to blame for this!” he shouted.
“No, Martok,” came a voice from within the misty veil. “
You
are.”
Heather appeared from out of the barrier wearing a look of deep compassion. Martok hesitated for a moment. The sword then re-materialized in his hand.
“It must have been you who forced him to do this,” he hissed.
“If you truly believe that, then you should kill me as well,” she replied calmly.
Martok advanced toward her with long deliberate strides, snarling viciously. But when only a few feet away he halted and the weapon faded. He stood stone still for more than a minute, his hands trembling. Finally, his shoulders sagged and his body jerked with renewed sobs. “I don't understand. Why would he willingly do such a thing?”
Heather moved closer and cupped his face in her hands. “Because he was the only one who could. Only Ralmar had the love within him that was needed to overcome your barrier.”
“But
you
crossed it as well,” he shot back accusingly, stepping away. “You could have stopped him.”
“And I could have stopped you as well,” she stated flatly. “But I would have had to kill you to do so. And I could not harm any one of my children. And neither could your father.”
“But why this?” he begged. “Why sacrifice his life?”
“Because he knew there was no other way to make you understand what must be done.”
“But it’s not right. You told me I had a great destiny; that I would save the world. And I believed you. It can’t end like this.”
Heather stiffened her posture. “You
do
have a great destiny. And you
can
save the world. But there is only one way for you to do it. If you can't accept that, you may as well kill Ethan…and finish us all in the process.”
A dagger appeared in Heather’s hand, which she offered to Martok. He stared at the blade for a long moment before turning his back and dropping to his knees. Ethan could hear his sobs returning in full.
It was then he noticed that the misty barrier had been lifted, though the vast gathering of his kin had now gone. Sylas was still there, along with an unfamiliar man and a woman. Their eyes were fixed upon Martok, each bearing a sorrowful expression. Heather looked to them and nodded. As the trio approached, the figures walking with Sylas diminished until they had transformed into young children.
With his wounds beginning to close and his strength returning, Ethan hobbled over to Heather. She was watching Martok huddle together with the three others in a tight embrace.
“What's happening?” he asked.
“Martok is saying goodbye to his uncle…and his children,” she replied solemnly. “He goes to join his father.”
“But isn’t his father dead?”
“That is likely true. But then again, maybe something does exist for us beyond this place. I honestly don't know. In a world of the infinite, who can say with certainty what happens? Perhaps he lives in another realm. Martok may have been right all along when he said this place is merely a prison of our own making.”
“So he has decided to die?”
“Yes. And it was not an easy choice for him. He is a man of great desire and pride. Even now, he doubts this course to be the right one.”
“What course?”
“To send
you
instead of himself to save us. To trust you to challenge Shinzan and arise victorious.”
Ethan could see a tear falling down her ivory cheek as she watched Martok and his family. “Do you think I can?” he asked.
“I don’t know that anyone can. But I do believe you are our best hope. Though Martok is powerful, you have something in your favor that he does not.”
“Like what?”
“Fate. It saved you as a young child. It brought you back to us when all seemed hopeless. And it kept you alive just now in your battle with Martok.” She paused to smile reflectively. “The elves believe that Lumnia guides us to our destiny. I don’t doubt this. But I’ve always believed that there is something else beyond Lumnia’s will. Something that guides even the spirits of this world.”
“You mean God?”
“If you like. One name is as good as another; though I’m not sure I would call it that myself. Lumnia exists as a balance, and Shinzan's coming here has upset that balance. I like to imagine what has happened to you, to me, even to Martok, is the universe setting things to rights.” She shrugged. “That's just how
I
see it. Who really knows for sure?”
They remained there watching until Martok stood and gave each of his family a final embrace. The three of them then walked off together into the distance, Sylas with his arms wrapped comfortingly around the children. Once they were gone from sight, Martok turned to Heather and nodded slowly.
“Come,” she said, taking Ethan by the hand. “It’s time.”
There was no trace of anger in Martok’s expression now, only deep sorrow and regret. “I hope you can both forgive me,” he said. “I see it clearly now. My entire life has been leading up to this moment.” He looked into Ethan’s eyes and smiled. “It was
you
all along. You are the one with the true strength. My destiny was never what I thought it to be. It is to give you the knowledge you need so that you can accomplish what I could not.” He stretched out his hands, offering them to Ethan.
He hesitated. “What are you going to do?”
“I am passing on to you the final tool you will need to save our family…and our world.”
Still unsure, Ethan looked over to Heather, who nodded her approval. “What will happen?” he asked.
“Just take hold of my hands and find out.” Martok's smile began to fade. “Please. Before I lose my courage.”
Ethan reached out and did as instructed. The moment their palms made contact he felt a rush of energy passing between them. At first it was almost pleasant. Then the force gradually increased. Memories began intruding into his mind. Faster and faster they came. Memories of love, betrayal, war – and most important of all - knowledge. Volumes of knowledge so vast it was impossible to quantify. Ethan realized he was seeing the entirety of Martok’s life. It was becoming a part of him, as if Martok’s experiences and his own were becoming one and the same.
As the memories entered, so Martok’s form gradually diminished. Just like his father, he became progressively more transparent. But instead of breaking up into small segments, he simply continued fading until disappearing completely. Even after he was gone, Ethan imagined he could feel his grip for several seconds. A wave of dizziness struck him and he staggered back a few steps before catching his balance.
He looked at his hands, then touched his face. He was still whole. He had all the memories of Martok, but unlike his previous experience with the random thoughts of his ancestors, these were now cohesive. Every face, location, and moment in time was like remembering his own life. And yet it was still somehow separate. He was not Martok. He was Ethan. A smile formed that grew into a soft laugh.
Heather touched his arm. “Are you all right?”
He nodded. “I am…perfect. Martok’s knowledge is now mine. And it’s time for me to return.”
“Yes. It is,” she agreed.
Ethan kissed her on the cheek. “I think you’re right. Something
is
guiding us.”
“Then I hope it guides you well, and returns you to us when your time is done.”
Ethan took a long look around, seeing the realm where the spirits of his ancestors dwelt with new eyes. No. His spirit would never dwell here. Of that much he was sure.
* * * * *
Ethan opened his eyes. The sky above was awash with the brilliance of starlight. He could feel the dry air of the Dragon Wastes on his skin and the dusty taste of it on his tongue. It was wonderful. He was back in the real world. A soft laugh slipped out.
The real world indeed
. But the truth was, that was what Lumnia had become to him. Earth was a distant memory.
Kat and Lylinora were asleep nearby on the other side of the platform. On seeing Kat lying there so peacefully, a thought flashed through his mind. Her beauty surpassed even that of the Gilded Cliffs of Mrundis. He laughed again. Martok’s father had taken him there when he was a child. A pity they were now gone. Kat would have enjoyed seeing them.
Moving silently, he knelt beside her and touched her arm. Her eyes peeled open drowsily. But the sight of his face lifted the fog of sleep instantly.
“It’s all right,” he said quickly. “I’m back. Martok is gone.”
Lylinora stirred as well.
“How do I know it’s really you?” Kat said, shifting away from him
Lylinora was at her side immediately, her hands glowing red and ready to strike.
Ethan chuckled. “If I was Martok, that wouldn’t do you a bit of good.”
“Prove that you’re Ethan,” Lylinora demanded.
“How?”
The two women looked at one another.
He couldn't help but laugh. “I really am Ethan. When I met you, Kat, I took a beating after saving you from getting your hand chopped off. As for you Lylinora…”
He paused, not wanting to speak of the intimate details which only he would know. “How about this? I’ll tell you what has happened to me and you can decide for yourselves if I’m lying.”
They both nodded their agreement.
Ethan went on to recount his experience in the spirit realm. When he was finished he leaned back on his elbows and held up his palms. “So. Do you believe me or not?”
“It’s difficult to say,” Lylinora replied, eyeing him carefully. “But I suppose either way, you’re free now to do as you wish. And if you are Martok, then I imagine you'll be wanting revenge for what we did to you.”
“Actually, that’s not true,” Ethan told her. “Like I said, I have his memories as well as his knowledge. Yes, he was angry, but he would not have harmed you, Lylinora. He valued you as a mage above all else. And as for you, Kat…he genuinely loved you. Not as much as I do, but it was still a very real and powerful emotion to him. He hoped that once I was dead you would learn to love him back. The only person in real danger was Renald. He was going to be punished for revealing the truth, even if it was only through Lylinora's spell.”
Kat moved in until she was mere inches away from him. For a long moment she looked deep into his eyes, saying nothing. Then, quite suddenly, tears welled.
“It
is
me,” Ethan whispered. “Scout’s honor.”
Any lingering doubts vanished in an instant. Kat threw her arms around him, showering his face with kisses and soaking his skin with tears of unrestrained joy. “I knew you’d come back to me,” she sobbed. “I just knew it.”
Ethan held her tightly, losing himself in the warmth of their two bodies. No matter how many things in this world were worth saving, she was the reason above all else he would fight. And now there was hope. Real hope. Not some vague idea, but a genuine chance for victory.
Holding her face in his hands, he smiled tenderly. “Are you ready?”
“Ready for what?”
“To see what Martok gave me.”
Before she could answer, a mighty wind swirled around the edge of the platform. Lylinora gasped and sprang to her feet.