Forsaken Dreamscape (Nevermor) (60 page)

“Get
clear!” Finn shouted, and there was an immediate reaction.

Everyone
began to run off into the trees, hoping that the distance and the branches
would protect them.  Wren was lifted easily by Toss, who promptly hurried off
to safety with her, followed by Mach.  Since Rifter was not present, Finn took
on the role as leader, keeping up with the others to make sure everyone was
there.  There were, however, two figures that remained stationary.

Finn
stopped to look back toward the spot they were trying to clear themselves
from.  Calico was still holding Sly, as if oblivious to all else.  In her arms,
his brother appeared very dead.  Finn hated that this had happened, but he had to
try at saving as many lives as he could.  That meant Calico.  He glanced up to
see that the demon was gaining distance quickly, its speed growing.

“Calico! 
Let’s go!” Finn yelled.

Her
eyes, once so beautiful, turned to him, now empty.

“I’m
not leaving him!” she insisted, using her voice in the same firm and commanding
manner of her youth.

He
looked up once again.  The demon was nearly to the treetops – dead weight.  Did
he have time to rush over, grab her and then carry her, kicking and screaming,
to safety?  Above, he heard branches cracking, and Finn made a choice that he
was certain he would regret later.

He
turned away from the Tribal girl and ran the other way.  All of them had to
make their own choices, and he did not feel he could interfere.  To Calico,
everything she loved was dead, and she could not live without it.

In
this world, they lived and died by their choices.  They had every right to make
their own.

8

Left
alone, Calico looked down at Sly’s face, smoothing his hair back.  It should
not have come to this.  This outcome was not as he’d promised her.  He’d
promised flowers and thriving villages.  Now, those dreams were gone.

Above
her, trees broke apart and began to splinter beneath the demon, but the princess
remained content, staring at Sly’s face.  She closed her eyes then and kissed
his damp forehead, just as the demon’s great weight smashed into the unhealed
earth.

9

From
within the flames, Rifter watched the demon fall.  He observed his hands,
watching as the fire blazed all over him and yet did not seem to touch his
skin.  Inside the demon’s fire, he was whole.

It
was exhilarating really, how this had worked, but he was not done.  Far from
it.  The demon was not dead – couldn’t be dead – and there was only one way
Rifter knew that would make its death definite.  He had to take it to the
greatest power he knew.

The
sun.

It
would be a long journey, but he could make it.  He could carry the demon there,
and he had no concern for whether or not he returned.  This life hadn’t had
meaning in years, and when he had finally gotten some degree of happiness back,
it had been ripped away from him.  Perhaps it was simply the fire that was
running through his veins now, but rage for Wren’s death could not be shot down
with reason and logic and
hope
.

He
had no way of knowing that she was still alive.

Without
any further thought, Rifter rocketed down toward the demon’s body.  It had already
crashed into the ground, splintering trees by the time he reached it, but he
did not care about that.  He did not focus on anything else around him, only on
getting himself beneath the demon and pressing its weight up into the air.  It
was as easy as he’d expected, with all the fury fueling him, and the task of
taking the battered demon into the sky was nearly effortless.

The
flight was hardly enjoyable, for Rifter knew he had only one destination, and
it would surely be a one-way trip.  But he had no remorse for it.  Not after
everything.  If he found death, at least he would rest.  There would be no more
sorrow for his memories.

“You…wretched…
child
!”
the demon hissed uneasily, but Rifter did not respond to it.

He
was not aware of anything – not the sound of the demon’s voice or the weight of
its enormous, snake-like body.  He did not feel the wind that whipped past him,
or the way the lack of oxygen affected his lungs.  The flames were hot, but
Rifter was distant from it all.

And
he was not aware that, on the ground below, Wren was screaming for him to
return.

10

From
a distance, an outsider watched the scene, just as she had watched it all.  She
had once been a direct part of Rifter’s existence, now shunned for her crimes,
but still she could not find it in her to blame herself.  All she had done, she
had done for him.  

Whisper
had seen everything unfold, and now looking in, she could not say that it was
so much of a surprise to her.

She
had been disillusioned, finding out that Rifter was not who she’d thought.  As
soon as she’d seen his face here at the Beginning – such a lovely face she
hadn’t seen in years – she had known she’d been fooled.  Rifter had hidden his
identity from them all, even her, and she would rather die than have him look
at her the way he had in that moment, with his gaze so full of disapproval and
loathing.

The
fairy closed her tear-filled eyes, thinking of what had just happened to her
heart.  She’d tried so hard to keep Rifter to herself – had even tried to
destroy Wren for it.  Rifter had banished her for eternity over that ordeal,
but she had been certain that one day, he would forgive her and ask her back. 
Years had passed, and then finally that day had come.  She hadn’t known it was
a demon in another boy’s body.  When he’d finally confessed that he needed her,
it had been bliss.  He’d told her of his new plans, of masquerading as the
Scourge for the sake of the world – to purge it of all the others so that they
might be the only ones left, as it had been in the beginning.  They’d been
happy
– only now to find out that he was not Rifter at all.

To
think that she, a creature of light, could have been so easily swayed by the
darkness.

Whisper
knew that she could not erase anything that she had done, but she
could
seek forgiveness.  Now that she knew the truth, she had to go to Rifter, no
matter where he had fled.  By his side was the only place she belonged.

Without
giving more thought to the outcome or consequences, Whisper followed him into the
sun.

Rebirth

Though dusk has fallen on this place,

There still remains one hope – one
grace.

From dust and ash he will arise

A savior to take back the skies.

Of all that in the past transpired,

This world will live, reborn of fire!

It
had been weeks since the war.  The uproars had died down, and now that the
nightmare demon was gone from their midst, the people of Nevermor seemed able
to think much more clearly.  Their ability to reason had returned, no longer
arrested by the darkness.  Granted, there were still wicked ones among their
number, but the land had calmed considerably.  Wren had watched it.  She wished
that they all could have seen it.  It would have meant so much to them.

Three
small boulders on the hillside were placed as markers, and while they were not
perfectly hewn, they served their purpose.  Wren was able to look down at them
without tears in her eyes, even though the pain had been slow to dull.  What
had happened was unfortunate, and they had been so dear to her, but what was
done was done, and there was no going back on that.

“Are
you alright?”

Wren
turned to a smooth voice and a light touch on her shoulder.  She found herself
looking into glowing Tikilin eyes, set in the handsome face of a young man
whose black hair was growing out, beginning to curl.  He was supportive of
her.  He had promised not to leave her side.

Finn
looked at her with concern for her thoughts, and she managed to give him a
smile.

“I’m
alright,” she promised, though he looked as though he didn’t believe her. 
After a moment, however, he relented and looked out over the wasteland beyond
the hill.

Above
them, the sun was glowing beyond a foggy haze that had been present since the
war, and Wren couldn’t help but wonder if the fiery orb was fading as the days
went on.  Still, she had to shield her eyes from it, and that kept her content. 
There was still power there.

The
sun gave plentifully, but it most certainly took away.

For
several moments on the hill, there was silence, and then the sound of a dog’s
bark pulled their attention.

The
two of them turned to catch the pale green eyes of a timber wolf that panted
happily up at them.  The pet was accompanied by the one who had adopted him: a
large boy with a kind twinkle in his dark eyes.  He stood taller and wider than
all of them, and inside, his heart was just as vast.

“There’s
a nice breeze today,” Toss commented, no doubt enjoying the way it coursed
through his thick hair.  A surprisingly boyish smile shined out of his bearded face. 
“Thanks, Wren.”

She
smiled at his joke, but it was not so far from the truth.  Sly had passed his
power on to her when he’d resurrected her, and though she did not even remember
what death was like, her bond with the land was proof of it.  It was an amazing
thing, and she was proud to wield it in his stead.  Granted, she hadn’t learned
all there was to know about her new power, but practice would make for
perfection.

Toss
seated himself in the soft grass, and the wolf, named Bruno, sat obediently
beside him.  Wren observed them, feeling grateful that he’d taken on this pet. 
Toss had seemed like such a lonely boy, always feeling awkward when he had
nothing to say and the others were lost in their own business.  Bruno could give
him sincere companionship.

“So,
we start here today, then?” Finn asked, putting his hands behind his head. 
“Looks like a lot of work.”

He
gave her a roguish smile, flashing his mouthful of teeth that was accented by
the one fang.  He always said this when they started on a new area, teasing her
to make sure she didn’t forget how much she would have to do and how
little
he would have to.  But there were still nightmare monsters to deal with on some
days.  She needed their help with that.

Nothing
had been changed because the demon was gone, as far as what the land had
become.  Destroying the corrupted creatures was just another responsibility in
restoring it.  This particular hill, however, which looked down over a barren
stretch of land, seemed devoid of tainted life.  Perhaps it would be an easy
day after all.

“It’ll
look so nice once it’s finished,” Toss commented.  “I’m glad we picked this
spot for them.”

He
was speaking of the headstones, somehow able to make the situation seem
positive despite the solemnity of it.  But he was right.  Wren did like this
spot.  That was why she had chosen it.

“Well,
best get started then, yeah?  Whew!  Looks taxing!”  Mach hardly looked up from
what he was doing when he spoke, but he wore a little smirk on his face when
Wren looked his way.

The
pale boy was letting his black hair grow out, revealing fiery red roots.  He
hardly kept his head up anymore, always busy with some object he was
inventing.  He and Finn had taken a renewed shine to each other over their
knowledge of Tikilin, and together they worked diligently to create meaningful
instruments that would make life easier for all of them.  Whatever the
contraption was that Mach had in his hands at this moment, Wren couldn’t tell,
but still she hoped for success.

Times
had been hard for them.  They had all lost ones who were dear, but Mach did not
often talk about his lost twin.  He had insisted that his brother would not
have wanted them to be so sentimental.  Wren had interpreted that differently,
thinking instead that Mach simply did not need the reminder that his twin was
gone.  He had his memories, and that was all he needed.

Memories… 
Fragile things.  Often too much and yet never enough.

“Yes. 
I suppose I
should
begin,” she said finally.

Wren
knelt on the ground, placing her hands on the soil.  She always felt nervous
when it came down to this.  Perhaps it was all the eyes watching her, and she
always felt terrible when she could not make great progress, though something
always happened, even when she didn’t try.  Even now, grass was rising around
her because she had been standing in this spot for so long.

She
knelt before the stones, closing her eyes to concentrate.  She urged the earth
to bring forth life, but felt nothing happening beneath her fingers.  When Wren
opened her eyes again, she saw that she had failed at this first attempt.  The
wasteland before her was just as dry and dead as it had been before.  Shame
came over her, even though she knew that none of them judged her lack of
progress.  This did tend to happen at times.  The stress of the task
overwhelmed her.