descendants of all those who murdered mine… now it is your turn.”
“J-just as I thought, you unngghh... wanted revenge,” Dante said. “Do you think… do you believe this will end merrily?”
“It will once your king has been killed!” Galmaria shouted. “I survived the war and remained on the surface world to watch over my younger sister for all this time. It was all possible due to my magic which I used to control those around me,” she boasted. “First, Althenaria’s worthless husband, the Viscount, whom it was easy to make betroth her. Is that not right, my dear sister?” she asked Amelia who looked away.
Dante watched Amelia sternly. “Sister? Then you lied about everything, Amelia. That letter you sent... asking me to come for information about the unngh… Shadow Woman was just a ruse to get me here for your schemes?”—he narrowed his eyes—“I trusted you. All that talk about loving me. It was—was it all a lie?”
Galmaria scoffed. “Of course it was! Did you really think a superior being such as Althenaria would love a lowly human such as yourself? We would have captured you sooner, last month, but you resisted her beauty.”
“No, it could not have been,” Dante said defiantly, looking at Amelia. “Amelia, I saw the look in your eyes when we were alone together. When you first saw me after all this time… at your home… at the inn.” Dante swallowed and paused, trying to ignore the pain he felt not only in his body, but within his heart. “Amelia—”
Galmaria scoffed. “Oh, shut up you—”
“—You do love me.”
“—Fool!”
Galmaria laughed. “How deluded you are! but enough of this idle chatter. I must kill you to take full control of your body and abilities. You shall make a fine undead puppet,” she said, looking at his sword contemplatively. She glanced at Amelia and handed it to her. “Do it,KILL him with his own sword. Show him that you do not love him as he claims. Watch him die!”
Dante looked on as Amelia took a step forward and held the sword’s hilt with both hands. She breathed in deeply—lifting the sword to her chest. She positioned it with the tip pointing towards Dante.
Dante stared into her tear-filled eyes. “Go on then Amelia, do it-”
“Do it! Do it now, Sister!” Galmaria yelled.
Amelia closed her eyes. “I am sorry… please forgive me.”
Dante never closed his eyes for a second, instead, he continued staring right into Amelia’s, watching the tears fall and cascade down her cheeks. He had never seen her cry before. Each teardrop glistening from the moon’s light—each drop containing the spirit of sorrow. They were the watery gateways to her true feelings—to her very soul. Galmaria cackled as Amelia’s body lurched forward towards him.
It was no sooner that it happened that Galmaria’s cackling ceased. Her face grew paler by the second. Her eyes widened and slowly looked downward to where the blade had stuck through her stomach.
She fell to her knees. Her eyes rose to Amelia—an expression of no less shock on her face than Dante had, when Amelia swiveled around quickly at the last second the blade’s tip was ready to penetrate him—piercing through her sister instead.
“S-sister… w-why?”
“Because… because I love him,” Amelia replied, pulling the sword out of her sister and dropping it on the cold, barren earth.
Galmaria half-gasped. She bellowed loudly and flailed in rage—using her last breath to swipe at Amelia with sharp claws. Dante perceived the return of enough of his magical energy—quickly raising his fit arm, he cast a fiery spell which swept around Amelia and hit Galmaria head on, stopping her fatal attack.
She flew across the forest path with a blood curdling scream and into the Eastern Black Rose Fields. She fell to the ground, heavily burned—fatally wounded. She made one last, sporadic attempt to fly away, being thwarted by a figure robed in brown who appeared suddenly in the distance and raised its hand up, setting the entirety of the fields ablaze in an instant.
Dante blinked several times in disbelief, watching the figure fade away in the backdrop of the fire’s fury. His gaze returned to Amelia who took no notice of it, instead looking at her hands silently. “A-Amelia—”
“...Don’t,” she said. “I am dead now.” She flew up into the canopies and out of sight as the sound of griffin wings approaching sounded from not too far away—the mage knights were coming.
Dante put the back of his head against the tree. His mind and body were numb as a flurry of feelings assailed him—anger, disbelief, disgust and… sadness.
He glanced at Rina who was lying motionless several feet away. His gaze shifted to the burning fields where the forms of the flying griffins could be discerned. Approaching closer and closer.
He watched the fire flare and listened to it crackle. He felt entranced, as though under a hypnotic spell. The fire which blazed before him was nothing compared to that which raged within his mind. Scorching his very soul.
Love's End
The town of Tarien resumed its usual jubilance and bustle during the fifth hour of the morning. Though it was quite early, many travelers—and more so, citizens—could not help but go about their ways throughout the busy streets.
It came as no surprise to Dante who exited Merun’s Inn, where he had been taken the previous night by the mage knights—having insisted not to return to the castle for treatment.
It would have taken much too long and he had other matters to attend to.
He bade farewell to Merun and the mage knights who had assembled with him—being hailed by the citizens who were beside themselves with happiness, finally being rid of the accursed Shadow Woman.
He adjusted the sling his right arm was in, remembering the battle of the night… what a night it was indeed. Dante hoisted the brown sack bag in his left hand over his left shoulder before walking off. He headed towards the northern town exit where Rina had been waiting on a griffin—her head wrapped in a white bandage. “Rina, I thought you headed back to the castle already.”
“Ummm, no I decided to stay a while. So... how are you feeling?” she asked. Dante could hear the trepidation in her voice.
“I’m fine,” he said, intuiting where the conversation was going.
She quickly hopped off the griffin and ran over to him, holding his hand in both of hers. “I-I’m so sorry Dante! What I said last night… you know… it wasn’t—I mean it wasn’t me at all,” she stuttered.
“The Shadow Woman—Galmaria… her spell was what aroused those feelings within you,” he replied. “You are not to blame.” Even though the words left his mouth he knew they were only half-true. He was sure that she meant every word she said—even if she was under Galmaria’s spell. He bore no resentment due to her actions, however. He understood how she felt—even if she was born into a noble family, her upbringing was quite draconian, having to compete against the children of other nobles to constantly prove herself, though it was never enough. He thought to change the topic.
“Galmaria caused great losses for the townsfolk and to our forces. Fortunately, we won this battle.”
“Galmaria…” Rina seethed as she said the name. “I cannot believe one cthonican could cause so many problems.”
“She was not just any cthonican, but as I discovered, she was one from the first war. She was quite powerful with her hypnotic magic.”
“Hmph! she merely caught us off-guard,” Rina said. “In any case, how did you find out her name? Cthonicans rarely ever tell their names.”
Dante paused for a while, fidgeting with the hilt of his sword. “Things got a bit carried away, I suppose. It slipped.”
Rina shrugged. “Ah well, doesn’t matter anymore. Do you want a ride to the castle? I can’t believe you came to do the mission in the first place without a griffin.”
“You know me, I like to walk,” Dante said with a smile.
“I think you wanted to look at the flowers, more like,” she mused. “Who would think a tough guy like you loves flowers so much?”
Dante rubbed h
is hair and chortled. “Who said there’s anything wrong with that?”
Rina laughed and shook her head then hopped back atop the griffin. “Well alright then, I guess I’ll see you at the castle. I’ll go to the next town and make sure the knights don’t get too carried away celebrating the mission’s completion”—she furrowed her brows—“Not that they will be, everyone is still surprised about Naro… I can’t believe he’s dead.”
Dante put a hand into his cloak, feeling the soft, thin parchment of the letter Naro had left him. He could not believe it either—as powerful as Galmaria was, Naro had faced far more fearsome foes and had always come away unscathed. Perhaps he was caught off guard like everyone else? He wondered.
He cleared his throat and proceeded to walk past Rina. “As powerful as one is, there is always a weakness waiting to be exploited, no one is omnipotent,” he said, walking towards the town’s exit.
Rina sighed and looked down contemplatively before refocusing upon him. “What’s your weakness then, Captain?”
“Flowers and gardening,” Dante joked without turning around. He heard her chuckle as he went through the exit and headed southward. Though not to the castle—but rather, the windmill which loomed in the distance upon a hill, overlooking the now decimated Eastern Black Rose Fields.
He trekked along the path slowly, thinking of Naro’s demise and his cryptic message. Did it even make sense going to the windmill? he wondered. There must have been a reason