T A L O N
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” There was a voice he recognized. The baritone of Andrus, the first incarnation he had met upon awakening to his rebirth, came from behind him.
“Are you here to convince me that I need to let go of my anger? That I need to look at the bigger picture?” It was not lost on him that the other incarnations of Arcas were undoubtedly trying to win him over to the current state of affairs. He heard Andrus walk up behind him. Talon lifted one of his wings, allowing the human knight to take a seat next to him. He glanced at the man. Andrus dark skin was healthy and his silver eyes seemed alight with life and an intensity that befitted his countenance. He wore loose fitting clothes, with his arms bare and shorts on his legs. He appeared more at peace than the last time that Talon saw him.
“I think you don’t get angry enough, to be honest.” Andrus leaned back, casting his gaze to the starry skies. The blend of blues, pinks and purples was beginning to fade into a velvet black as the sun continued to lower on the horizon. His answer surprised Talon.
“You are the first person to ever tell me that.” Talon ran a hand through his hair. He brought one knee up to his chest and hugged it, resting his chin upon his knee. Andrus chuckled.
“I’m sure. You spend a lot of your life showing restraint.” That was true. Talon seldom pushed the boundaries of what he was capable of. He rarely had reason to and in circumstances where he might be able to, often he found an alternative solution. He was reminded of the events that played out in Rickter’s soul. Violence had been the last thing he had wanted to resort to in such a precious space. But then he was reminded of the slaughter that had taken place at his wedding.
“Could I have saved them?” Could he have stopped the attack in its tracks if he had not been holding himself back? Could he have destroyed or halted the entire ordeal?
“Possibly but I don’t think that would have stopped what is coming. You are a terrifying force to be reckoned with, Talon. Even without being a god, you wield powers that most mages will never reach in their lives. Think of all that you have accomplished. You would have been a target regardless.” Talon let out a heavy breath. He closed his eyes, feeling utterly weary of it all.
“Maybe.” He could not change the past. As much as he wanted to, that was power far beyond him. “What happens now?”
“You crossed the final threshold, Talon. A step none of the rest of us ever took. A step none of us could take. What happens next is up to you.” Talon looked at Andrus then. The knight was not looking at him. He was staring out across the waters.
“You mean, I have a choice?” Andrus nodded his head.
“Yes...and with every choice, a consequence. For the living and the dead.” Talon looked around. He quirked a brow. Touching the side of his torso, he still felt the sting of whatever it was that had injured him during the fight at the palace.
“I thought for a moment that, perhaps…” Andrus shook his head.
“No. You are very much alive, Talon.” Looking around again, Talon gestured to their surroundings.
“Where are we then? This is not Kalzasi. It is certainly not Karnor.” Talon had no grasp on where he was or wasn’t at the moment. As the day had progressed, he had simply tried his best to wrap his head around everything that was happening.
“It is our realmspace.” Arcas answered the question. Talon clenched his jaw as the demigod entered the conversation. Andrus rose to his feet. The knight squeezed his shoulder as he turned and began walking away. Arcas did not approach but he did not walk away either. He simply watched.
“I will correct you on one thing.” Arcas took a seat beside him, letting his legs dangle off the edge of the docks. He set his hands in his lap and looked down at them. “I am not fighting a war. For over ten-thousand years, I have been trying to do the exact same thing that you crave so desperately.”
Talon looked to the demigod. Arcas face was shadowed. Again it struck him just how much they looked alike. If Arcas had wings, the two of them could have passed for twins.
“I am trying to save my family, Talon. Same as you.” Memories stood out to Talon then. The battle between Light and Shadow. The look of horror on the dark warrior’s face as his eyes cleared before the armies of darkness were smote by the heavens. Dawning realization sank in.
“Shaeoth--”
“Saeon.” Arcas looked up from his thoughts. “His name is Saeon.”
“Brothers.” The revelation struck Talon sharply. “Does that mean…? Rien! Is he…?”
Arcas was shaking his head.
“No. Rien is not Shaeoth reborn.” Talon calmed slightly then. Still, he had many questions spinning in his mind. What did all of this mean? Arcas rose to his feet. He extended a hand to Talon. Hesitantly, Talon took it and was hauled to an upright position. “Walk with me, I will tell you the story. Please?”
Talon relented and with a nod, he followed Arcas as the two of them walked toward the temple.
“Eikaen came upon a warrior who was dying. Having never lived as a mortal, the Dragon King offered the man a deal. Allow him to live within him and experience life as a mortal and Eikaen would spare his life. The warrior accepted and became the living vessel of our father. Together they took the name Ciaran. They traveled for a time until they came upon a woman.” Before his eyes, Talon saw the echoes of what had to have been a memory. A woman with dark hair was showing symbols drawn upon the surface of an old looking pillar of stone. Just beside them, a handsome man was showing an older boy how to string a bow.
“Suria.” The name came to Talon. It sent a shiver up his spine. Beside him, Arcas looked on at the family with ancient longing.
“Suria.” He closed his eyes and more memories were shared with Talon. Memories of exploring forests older than the Astralar Mountains. Memories of visiting places that could have been plucked from a dream. “We were happy. For a time.”
A mournful cry broke the cycle of exciting and happy memories. Talon beheld what looked to be an older Arcas, though still a boy, sobbing over the body of his mother. Around them, the world was charred and covered in ash and snow.
“What happened?” Talon’s chest ached as he felt not just his own sorrow for the scene in front of him but that of Arcas.
“Shaeoth.” Arcas looked to the horizon and the scene before them shifted, becoming a battlefield. The war between Light and Darkness. “Eikaen was forced to shed his mortality and do battle with a terrible evil that tried to kill us. In that moment of distraction, the true master of that evil attempted to overtake me. Our brother saved us but in so doing, was taken in our place.”
“Why do you keep coming back then? Why did it not end when the two of you fought?” Arcas stepped in front of Talon.
“Death means nothing to the entity that has taken possession of Saeon’s soul. It weakens the hold it has on him, for a time, but it overtakes him in the end. In a normal circumstance, when a demigod’s mortal coil is slain, our souls simply return to our realmspace. Where we can rest, recuperate and then return to the world in a body of our own making. Such is not the case with us. You see, the entity that has taken possession of Saeon is a being older than Ransera. Older than even the gods themselves. While it is not necessarily more powerful, it can move in ways that neither Dragon God nor Mistlord can. That is how it has kept possession of Saeon. That is why death does not free him.” Talon let the knowledge of that sink in. He tried to comprehend it and while he did not think he could grasp the fullness of it, as he was only barely out of the realm of mortality himself, he knew one thing for certain.
“If you had tried to return as a demigod the normal way, it would have taken possession of you as well?” Arcas stared at him steadily before nodding.
“If your soul is already interwoven with another, it cannot take you, can it?” Arcas shrugged his shoulders.
“I do not know that it cannot. I do know that it cannot do so easily if that is the case. You are different however.” Talon furrowed his brow. “Kaena. Xyren. Andrus. They are and were people that housed my soul to whom I gave my power when they needed it most.”
Arcas touched a finger to Talon's chest, directly over his heart.
“You are not.” Talon thought on how they were nearly identical in appearance. How even Lyrielle had once commented on how much he reminded her of Arcas both in his disposition and his appearance.
“I really am you, reborn.” Talon looked down at himself. His wings shifted behind him. Arcas stepped closer and placed a hand upon his chest. Again, Talon felt how their hearts beat in unison.
“I do not know how. I do not know why but the more I have thought on it, the more I have realized that there has been a piece of me that has been missing. Perhaps a piece that broke away in the final conflict. Do you not feel it as well?” Arcas looked at him beseechingly. Talon looked inside of himself and he flinched away from a part of his soul that had caused him pain for so long. It had been present since he was a boy. It had followed him into the Warrens. It had grown more evident as he had matured. He had thought it was the echo of the severed Bond between him and Riven. Could it have been something else? Was that why he clung to his Bond with Aoren and Rickter so desperately? Because they dulled the part of him that was missing? Talon could not even count how many times both Aoren and Rickter had reached inside of him through the Bond and soothed the edges of that neverending pain so that it had become just an ache he lived with, like a sore muscle that never quite relaxed.
“I…” Talon rubbed his head. It was more to take in than he had ever thought possible. “You are saying that we are one person, that I am a piece of your soul that found its way back into the realms of life?”
Talon stepped back. He could feel a pull between himself and Arcas. It frightened him as much as it called to him.
“I…I do not want to die, Arcas. I do not want to just fade away and leave behind those I love. I…” Talon was afraid. From the moment he opened himself up to the fullness of the Aetherium and made the conscious choice to cross the final threshold to save Rickter, Talon had been dreading completely losing himself. Would Arcas care about Aoren? Would Arcas care about his mother? Would he want to hold accountable those who had murdered his father? Would he try to find Rickter? Would--
“Hey.” Arcas hands framed his face. Their face. Talon grasped his counterpart's wrists. He was shaking. He met those familiar silver eyes and in them, Talon saw reflected back at him the same fears that he was feeling.
“Do you trust me?” Do you trust us?
Talon thought on everything that had transpired over the past year. From the moment he had been reborn, it had never felt as though he had been fighting for control of himself. On the contrary, the more attuned he became with the divine side of himself, the more it felt like he was waking up from a dream. It had frightened him because it had thrust into confusion everything Talon had thought he had known about himself. Memories had visited him during his dreaming hours and it had been hard to tell whether they were just dreams or fragments of a life that was and should have been his. He took a few deep breaths in order to steady himself. He straightened, running his hands through his hair in order to center himself. Looking around, Talon took in the beauty of the divine realmspace that was his.
That was theirs.
“There is pain waiting for us.” Talon, for the first time, turned his attention away from his surroundings and to the events that had led him there. The attack. The collar snapped around his neck. The captivity that was waiting for him. For them.
“Yes.” Arcas followed his gaze. His expression hardened. “It will be a long road. But…”
“I know.” Talon looked down at himself. He closed his hands into fists and let out a long breath through his nose. “The world needs you. Needs us. The true us.”
He was afraid. Talon had been living in fear for a long time. He was certain that he was about to face many more fears and great pain. But he had to push forward.
For his father. For his mother. For his people. For Rickter.
For Aoren.
“Promise me something?” Talon looked out over the peaceful paradise that was in front of them. He let the warmth of it wash over him. He let the memory of it sink into his mind and settle within his bones. As the last rays of the sun flowed across his skin and warmed him, Talon found peace. He closed his eyes, opening himself up to this place, opening himself up to Arcas. What he found waiting for him there was not some strange and overwhelming presence. It felt as though he were surfacing from a dream.
Talon’s body began to glow softly as the witchmarks upon his skin turned from blue-violet to the silver-white. He spread his wings wide, letting the silver feathers catch both the light beginning to emanate from his soul and the twilight bathing the skies in its rosy hue. He looked down at himself. He could see through the fingers of his hand as sunlight and starlight seemed to overtake his body.
“Yes?” He met Arcas eyes, his eyes. Talon reached out and placed his hand upon Arcas chest. Their chest. The warmth spread further through his body. A feeling like he was finally being freed, like he was finally coming home, radiated throughout him and he knew then that this was the truth.
“Stop the cycle. Whatever it takes. Please.” Arcas pulled him into a hug and Talon embraced him. The two stood there, clinging to one another.
Light shone brighter and brighter from their embrace. The boundaries between Talon and Arcas dissolved and as the sun set in the skies of that holy realmspace, the light emanating from the two grew blinding until it bathed the entirety of the realm in a silver-white.
---
Arcas stood staring down at his hands. He closed his eyes, shedding a single tear as he let out a long breath of tired relief. Opening his eyes he looked up to the sunlit sky. He listened to the waves lapping gently at the shores. He pressed a hand to his heart, which beat fully and truly for the first time in millennia and felt resolve fill him.
“I promise, Talon. Whatever it takes.” Arcas spread his wings and took flight.
A new day was dawning on Ransera.
For the Dawnking had finally, truly, returned.