Authors: R.A. Salvatore
Pony tried to stay with Elbryan as well, in that darker realm, but there was no break in the darkness that surrounded Aydrian, no opening for them to reach out to their lost son. Indeed, it was as Elbryan had said, so much like their battle with Markwart, but this time, the darkness seemed even more complete.
They made no headway, with sword or with spirit, and gradually, it was the trio who began to tire, and not Aydrian. Tempest rang out with fury—Aydrian even managed a lightning blast that sent Brynn flying backward and to the floor, though she recovered quickly and rushed back in before the young king could gain an edge on Pony.
Brynn pressed on with Flamedancer, Pony wielded Defender magnificently, and Elbryan, so familiar with that other shadow in the mirror, attacked the young king with all his spiritual sensibilities.
But they were battling a fortress that had no weaknesses, a foe who remained ahead of them every step of the way. A foe who did not tire.
They could not win.
U
p on the balcony, the battered Sadye, sobbing and limping badly, slid past De’Unnero and Juraviel, struggling for the stairs. She looked down on the titanic battle and cried out to Aydrian.
“Win, my love!” she called. “Kill them all! Aydrian! Oh, my love!”
Behind her, Marcalo De’Unnero heard her words. Aydrian. Her love.
The monk’s eyes snapped open.
D
efender and Flamedancer came in side by side, angled so that Aydrian couldn’t possibly parry both.
But he did, with a sudden snap and twist of Tempest, and he even managed a slight thrust that backed Pony up a step. The young king spun out of the clench and went at Brynn, driving her sword up and to the side.
She turned a complete circuit in response, bringing Flamedancer back around, but Tempest was already there, ringing so hard against her blade that her arm went numb.
Pony came back in hard, just in time to save her, but again Aydrian had little trouble in pushing Defender aside and countering the woman’s strikes.
And behind Pony, Elbryan’s continuing efforts did little against the wall of darkness that encompassed Aydrian.
Then they all heard Sadye’s call, and all but Elbryan glanced back at the stairs to see the battered woman stumbling down, to see a form rush up behind her.
To see Sadye stiffen and arch her back as a sword plunged through her body.
Sadye looked down, confused, her eyes wide with shock. And then she fell,
facefirst, tumbling down the stairs, the sword, Pony’s discarded sword, still stuck through her.
Standing behind her, his life finally fleeing his corporeal coil, Marcalo De’Unnero tumbled after.
Despite himself, Aydrian could not suppress a cry. And in that moment of pain and shock, in that moment of very human loss, there shone a bright seam in the dark shroud that engulfed his spirit.
Elbryan rushed for the light; Pony felt her lover’s spiritual tug and joined him, embracing the light, embracing their son. They called to him and pleaded with him. They offered him the love that only parents might know for their child.
They heard the sneer from within the monster, heard the denial all too clearly.
But they felt, too, the warmth that was within Aydrian, buried so far away by this demonic creature that had somehow found its way into his very being.
And so they grabbed at the light that was not the demon, the light that was the humanity of Aydrian.
Outside that spiritual realm, Brynn saw the young king freeze suddenly, his eyes wide in confusion.
She didn’t hesitate, charging right up to him and plunging Flamedancer deep into his chest.
P
ONY AND
E
LBRYAN HELD ON TO THAT SPARK OF LIGHT AS THE DARK SHROUD DISSIPATED
. But their joy at seeing their son freed of the demon’s grasp was short-lived, for almost immediately, Aydrian’s life force began to dissipate as well, sliding down, down to the realm of death.
Pony had felt this loss before, when Elbryan had fallen before the demon within Markwart. She recognized it for what it was, and when she popped open her eyes in horror, she saw Aydrian lying on the floor, his chest gashed with a wound that was surely mortal.
“No!” the woman cried and she fell back into her hematite even as she physically collapsed over her dying son. “No!”
Pony cried for Elbryan to join her, and charged along the swirling gray corridor that descended to the realm of death. She saw Aydrian’s spirit drifting ahead of her, falling into death.
Not again
, the woman wailed. She had not saved Aydrian just to lose him now!
But this was not a place of bargaining. This was the realm of death, the realm of finality.
Pony didn’t slow, throwing herself down that corridor with abandon, crying out for Aydrian, yelling out in denial at death itself, telling the dark realm that it could not have her Aydrian! Not here and not now!
She was more into the spirit realm than she had ever been, completely detached from her body and unsure that she could even find her way back to it! Might she have doomed herself by chasing Aydrian to this dark place?
Pony didn’t care at all, didn’t give it a second thought. She chased Aydrian, she caught Aydrian, and she hugged her son close, imploring him to return with her to the realm of the living, and denying the shadowy fingers that grabbed for his spirit.
And then Elbryan was there beside her, beside their son, pulling them both back along the winding gray trail, back to the light of life.
As Aydrian had done with Duke Kalas that day on the field after the tournament, Pony now won out against the nether realm. She pulled Aydrian back to his body; she breathed life into him once more, and even as he opened his eyes, she was there, attacking his wound with her soul stone, finding energy where she had none.
Gasping, Pony again fell over the young man as he curled up, sobbing. His mother lifted her head and looked around the room, to Bradwarden, leaning against the wall for support, with Symphony standing before him, pawing the ground defiantly. To Brynn and Prince Midalis, battered and beaten, watching her with mouths agape. To the dead monks and the large and still form of Andacanavar.
To dead Sadye and De’Unnero on the stairs.
To Elbryan, standing passively, seeming so very much alive!
A movement by the door turned them all, to see Pagonel, Bruinhelde, and Duke Kalas stride in.
“Move away from him,” Prince Midalis said to Pony, his tone unmistakably grim. “This must be finished.”
“It is finished!” the woman yelled back, and she held Aydrian all the tighter and shot the prince a warning glare. “You leave him alone! All of you!”
“He has brought great misery to the world,” Prince Midalis went on. “You would have us forget?”
“It wasn’t he!” Pony shouted. “It wasn’t Aydrian.”
“The demon possessed him,” Elbryan said, and Pony noted that his voice seemed strained and weakened. “That day on the field when he was born, the demon found its way from Father Abbot Markwart into the boy. That demon is gone now.”
“You cannot be certain!” Prince Midalis argued.
“Agradeleous can tell us,” Pagonel offered. “The dragon will know at the sight of him.”
“And when that dragon confirms what I have said, then you will leave him alone,” Pony demanded of the prince. “You will pardon him and you will forget him, and you will allow me to leave with him, to our home.”
Prince Midalis started to respond, but merely sighed and stepped forward, offering Pony his hand and helping her to her feet.
“The battle is ended?” he asked Duke Kalas.
“Mostly,” the man replied. He stepped forward then, taking his helmet from his head and tucking it under one arm. Lowering his gaze to the floor, the proud duke dropped his sword to the ground at Midalis’ feet.
“I would be a liar if I said that your actions on behalf of King Aydrian did not wound me to my heart,” Midalis offered.
“I accept your judgment,” Duke Kalas said softly.
O
ff to the side, Pony wasn’t even paying attention. She was with Elbryan again, and she could sense the truth. He was diminishing.
“None who have known the other side can return to the land of the living,” he quietly explained to her, lifting his hand to brush a tear from her eye.
How wonderful that touch felt to poor Pony! For it was the same as it had once been, the gentleness and love she had once known with this man. He was no illusion, but was Elbryan, her Elbryan!
“Do not leave me,” she whispered, but Elbryan brought a finger up to her lips to silence her, then followed it with a gentle kiss.
“Never would I, and never have I,” he said. “I am there, my love. Always there.”
“Elbryan, I cannot live …”
“You must,” the ghost answered. “Our son needs you now, more than ever. You
must see to him and teach him. His path is not ended, as is mine.”
Pony shook her head in denial of every word, her tears flowing freely. How could she part with Elbryan again? Suddenly conscious of herself and her appearance, the woman gave a little laugh, an admission that she had to accept this, for all the pain. “You are so young and beautiful,” she said to the ghost. “As I remember you.” She reached up to stroke Elbryan’s face. “And I am grown old and ugly.”
He crushed her in a hug and kissed her deeply and passionately. “You are to me exactly as I remember you,” he told her. “You are my Jilseponie, my Pony, my friend and my lover.”
He felt lighter to her suddenly, and less substantial, and Pony clutched him all the tighter, holding on desperately.
“I will never leave you,” Elbryan’s voice said, and it diminished as he diminished, returning to the netherworld.
Pony nearly swooned, but caught herself with the same determination that had seen her through all of this. She almost dove back into her hematite, to chase her lost lover, but she understood the truth of it.
He could not come back, could never come back, to the physical world—not fully.
Pony growled and took a deep, deep breath, throwing aside all her tears and all the weakness in her legs. She opened her blue eyes and looked around, and saw that all were staring at her, and that all eyes were moist.
“You will pardon my son, wholly,” she said to Prince Midalis. “I demand this of you, and I daresay that I have earned as much. This is all that I ask, that Aydrian and I can leave in peace. For Dundalis, where we will bother you no more.”
“I had hoped that you would join me in Ursal,” the prince said.
“No more,” Pony admitted. “I have nothing left to offer to any, save Aydrian, who needs me most of all.”
A call from above reminded them that they had much more to do here, and that such decisions could surely wait. They all turned to see Bishop Braumin sitting at the top of the stairs, covered in blood and reaching out to them for help.
“Midalis is King!” Liam O’Blythe yelled suddenly, charging in the door. “Long live the king!”
“I
have so much to do, so much to repair,” King Midalis admitted to Pony a short while later. All around them, the monks went about healing the wounded and the soldiers went about piling the dead.
So many dead.
“You have pardoned Duke Kalas?” Pony asked him.
“It will be done,” the king replied. “In time. I want him to consider long and hard all that he has done. But yes, I will pardon him. I will invite him into my court, to serve me as he served my brother. He was deceived by Aydrian …” He caught himself and smiled warmly at the woman. “He was deceived by the same demon that stole your son from you,” he corrected.
“A wise choice,” Pony replied. “Vengeance breeds resentment. Remember the story of Constance Pemblebury and take that to heart, my friend. Compassion will serve you well.”
“Jilseponie would serve me well.”
Pony smiled and managed a little laugh. “Jilseponie is dead,” she said, and though it was a joke, obviously, her expression became more serious suddenly, as if she noted some definite truth in her words. “Twice I have personally cheated death,” she explained. “In the Moorlands and on the beach of Pireth Dancard. I should have died, but Elbryan would not let me.”
“Then credit Elbryan with saving the kingdom.”
“But that was not his purpose,” Pony explained, and she glanced over to where Aydrian, Bradwarden, and Belli’mar Juraviel sat in the shade of the monastery wall. “He saved me to save my son, and so I shall.” She turned and looked Midalis in the eye. “And then I will join him, my husband,” she said calmly. “As I rightfully should have already joined him.”
King Midalis tried to respond, but it was obvious that he couldn’t get any words past the lump in his throat.
“Though I still have much to do,” Pony admitted, looking back at Aydrian.
“You will leave us now?”
“My time here is ended,” Pony replied, and she moved forward and offered the king a warm hug. “Rule well—I know you shall! For me, I will spend my time in Dundalis, back home again. How long ago it seems, when Elbryan and I would run carelessly about the caribou moss, awaiting the hunters’ return or hoping for a glimpse of the Halo.”