Medese un Torill

The last stand

Ushebe was brought to the medic bay where he was watched over by Medese and with the sail fixed the company had taken to the air. With the course set and the ship sailing through the air, Torill had gone to Medese and as the door opened there was a moment of unknowing between them as neither of them knew what to say or do. Torill made the first move and strode across the room to him and pulled him into a hug, his nose nestled into the crook of his neck while one hand held the small of his back and the other held in his fist his golden hair. Medese hooked his arms beneath Torills and held his shoulders as he took in his scent.

“I could hardly last without you,” Torill admitted.

“And I the same for you,” Medese answered with a light chuckle.

“Oh how i’ve missed you,” Medese sighed and it was answered by Miniviral,

“It has only been a week!” she exclaimed with a chuckle, “Oh how I envy your love.”

From the window of the medic bay you could see the land of Valore passed beneath them, the land of ice and snow became a raging ocean scattered with icebergs.

“We should come to Styor in two or three hours, prepare yourself for whatever may come upon your return,” Miniviral had continued and with that she had returned to the cockpit.

Medese remained with Ushebe for the journey, Torill sat next to him but his attention was kept to the land beyond the windows for when they had come at last to Sebri'ati Torill took in the full majesty of the Myrrian homeland. He saw the great mountains that towered into the heavens, the land blanketed with tree and vast fields. For even in winter none could deny the beauty of the continent whose valleys were deep, steppes high and with meadows and plains of golden grass. Then there was the sea of trees, a vast stretch of trees whose leaves remained, though along the borders where the trees were smaller and weaker they had been laid bare, for as the sea descended deeper and the mysterious of the wooded land grew greater, the treetops remained level.

They came upon Styor and behold that it was in repair, many monuments, palaces, and towers standing once more and the grandeur of the city could still be seen through the defilement of war. Illomon stood still, white against the blue sky like a great pillar holding up the heavens and Ushebe was awake and aware enough to marvel at the finest temple of Ada. Peoples had returned, but the population was definitely as many now were wary of returning for it seemed that as long as DIjynn to campaign against the cosmos Illomon would remain a sought target of great devastation.

The ship was brought down in the square before the temple and many had gathered to bare witness to the Songbirds return, for mIshandvir knew it was him as the Sebri'atan airspace was monitored by her militia. She allowed him free passage for she respected him greatly and though he would be given judgement, thanks would be given also for in truth Medese had wounded Dijynn and his strength faltered now and this fortune teller he had come to would bring him back to Valore to seek out the Oracle who would give him guidance in his tactics.

The two Myrrian pilots exited first and then follow Torill and all gasped for many believed him dead or a traitor to them as he had been to Vanna. Then at last Medese stepped out from the ship, carrying with him Ushebe in his arms. Irivia came after him, her spear in hand and they followed Medese as he climbed the steps of the temple, threw the doors open with his voice and stood there in the grand cathedral and a wave of strangeness came over him as this place felt foreign to him now. Ushebe was brought to a chamber of healing and Torill returned to the garden when Medese would join when he was finished with his affairs. The two Myrrian pilots and Irivia had remained with Medese. When the regent had come to them, a sour faced woman with chestnut skin and a long beautiful black braid dressed with all manner of feathers, she demanded that they leave her temple at once for she would not harbour traitors to the Hirtose, no matter their feats or justified reasoning. Medese turned to face her when she was finished making demands of him and he looked in the eyes and said nothing, but the glower was enough to unsettle her and so it was that Medese had taken of the mantle of regent once more. To this news a spy of Vanna's who was kept in secret within Styor had brought the news of their return and she simply smiled at these delivered words and was gladdened.

“Your efforts have proven vain and now more than ever you long for the death of the Myrrian peoples,” The fortune teller spoke, their voice smokey and their figure hidden from Dijynn by a formless cloak of dark brown. The teller sat before a crystal ball and within its cloudy complexion had seen many things that would come to be in Dijynns reign,

“Worry not Quajyn, you will be a lord whose power cannot be contended,” They assured him and this delighted Dijynn and he demanded to know more of what they spoke of.

“Tell me more! Will I destroy the Myrrians?” He questioned but the Teller simply held up a quieting hand and spoke before he could interject with their command;

“Go to the place where mortals can peer into the heart of the true gods,” They advised and DIjynn knew immediately what place the Teller spoke off and he had made his way back to Valore with haste.

Meanwhile, in the sea of trees, Vanna was gathering an army for one final siege of Styor. She had grown powerful with Adonu, finding in the strange land many beasts and magics to twist to her cause, her nagas and vampires growing in numbers as many had been called to Vanna’s command. She desired one thing now, a single wish, to kill the Songbird of Illomon. Her army of demons, forsaken, monsters, and beasts rallied under the canopy of the trees whose thick trucks rose miles into the air.

Adonus kingdom was of huts made from leaves and magic-bound stone, great chambers of alchemy and smithies built deep in the roots of the enormous trees, though they were hardly the tallest. Vanna had a great army still and she ployed and plotted, but she would greatly underestimate the power of Medese.

Dijynn had come to Valore in his jet, finding that the world around the well of souls was darkened by night and a storm of sheeting rain had blanketed the land, but Dijynn paid no mind to the water that rushed down over the cells edges, cascading along the sides in a deafening uproar and flowed down the spiraling staircase that led to the worlds center. Dijynn walked for five hours and found that he was not even a quarter of the way down and so came to be impatient and he had thrown himself over the stone railing of the steps and dove through the air and spread great leathery wings before meeting the wells bottom. He was dressed still in his black robe and carried with him no weaponry and so, with a guise of peace, he was granted access to the true temple of the Immortals, for it was here that the knights of Illdaste became Immortal. He entered and came upon the temple of souls, it’s design being Illustaran, resembling the great ornate temples of polished marble, crystal, and alvantium, of Eltamir. He made his way through the empty halls, finding chambers filled with artifacts, archives filled with all the recorded knowledge of the Illustara, and even armories filled with ancient weapons crafted with elegant care and delicate detail. A voice then called out to him and led him down the right path and he came before an enormous stone door that opened with his touch and he beheld the most wondrous sight. The chamber was vast, pillars of carved stone that rose high into the air and held up a roof of unhewn stone, the floor grey stone that was as smooth as marble, and at the end of the chamber there was exposed the flesh of ada; a great wall of crystal that even here I could no describe for it was like looking into the heart of all of life, love, and pain. Before the crystal, at the end of the walkway of polished stone, there stood a hooded figure.

“You wish to know your future, Dijynn Miyrnn, then touch the crystal where Minerva pierced it so long ago,” The Oracle spoke, his voice sounding as thousands speaking all at once and Dijynn did as he was told and walked forward, past the Oracle, and reached out to touch the crack where Minerva had stabbed Ada with her black blade.

The word around him vanished and he was suddenly standing alone in a blank space, nothing but a strange pale golden glow that stretched on through every perceivable corner of nothingness.

Then there was something, a woman with a white veil shrouding her face and she was dressed in a gown made from a cloud. When the veil lifted Dijynn looked upon the face of a Quajyn, her skin pallor and her eyes a stunning blue. It was Dijynn's mother and though he had never looked upon her face he had seen many pictures of her for she was beloved by many.

“I-impossible,” he uttered in complete disbelief and a madness came over him and he was sent into a fit of hysteria as he looked upon his mother.

“I'm sorry mother, oh i'm so so sorry… I didn't want all this, not truly, I just was filled with so much anger,” Dijynn admitted suddenly and his mother simply sighed and stepped closer to him, Dijynn flinching at this, but she came forward anyways and sat him down and held him with her arm around his shoulders.

“Worry not my love, for all is forgiven in my eyes," She said and Dijynn knew in that moment that he was speaking to Ada and she had taken a form familiar to him, not because it was the form of his mother, but because it was physical and real and Dijynn would've died of pure awe if he looked upon her truest form.

“What greatest will come to me, mother?” He inquired and Ada turned to him and leaned close to his ear, pressing her nose into his hair above his ear and whispered,

“From your wickedness many good things will come and even by your hands there will be good, but evil will always be held to your name. You are tied to a fate the Oracle and I have already spun my child, an interference that is necessary for the survival of all my children, for I cannot bear the loss of another cosmos,” She spoke and then rose to her feet and stood fore him and reached out and placed her hand against his forehead. In that moment Dijynn had seen his whole life play out before him and within a single second he had lived an entire lifetime and when he took his last breath he was brought back before Ada and he knew the part he played in her plans and wept at her feet, begging for forgiveness as he had witness all the things he had and would do.

“My child, you will always be forgiven no matter the crime. We chose you for this role, and only you can fulfill it… So please, forgive me for subjecting you to this life of pain, anger, and war,” She answered and Dijynn looked to her face and for a moment saw some semblance of her true form and he accepted what was to come.

“I will always be with you,” She said before sending him back into his body and he fell back, gasping for air and the Oracle knelt next to him and Dijynn looked upon his face and was bewildered at who he saw beneath the hood.

“Forgive me," He whispered and the Oracle smiled and answered,

“I already have.”

At the temple a hunter had come from the woods, bearing news for the Songbird and so it was Medese had come to know of Vanna’s planned assault and had set quickly to ready the Styorian forces. No aid he called to him, not ready to face the Hirtose and so as long as he was held up in Styor he was safe from her wrath for in Illomon they were equals.Mishandvr held no ill will too Medese, nor Angdira but in truth he had fled from the Empress ship hours after the coming of Bue. Angdira would come to build a temple of his own on a distant world whose name will not be spoken here for it is indeed yet another great story that leads into the age of the Heroes. The Hirtose had already pardoned for she of the turmoil he endured and would bring no more unto him, not of her command at least. Irivia was now the captain of the Sisters, and estimated that they perhaps had two days for there was an eclipse that was coming and Vanna's power would be at its peak under the blackened sun. The Styorian garrison offered the soldiers they had, but with only two weeks having passed the militia was still reeling from the siege, so there was only a few hundred soldiers within the city. While Medese had taken up the responsibilities of the temple, now having to face the coming of Vanna's forces, Torill was left to his own devices. After the excitement he had faced he had simply basked in the peace of the temple, offering prayers to Ada and giving gifts to the shrines of spirits. At his side there was Ushebe who had grown sullen from the destruction of his village and the death of his peoples, but with Torill keeping watch over him, Ushebe was not consumed by his mourning and it seemed that Torill had softened and he offered now only a caring and loving air. Weithweid remained within Illomon, but with Torill's return he had not taken it up, in fact he hadn’t even thought of his black blade.

The days that followed were drab, no excitement, no parties of singing, the city was silent for all knew what was coming and many had just accepted that they would possibly die, but so few cared at this point and when the day of the eclipse came there was an air of warmth that shunned the cold of winter and scouts set to the woods had brought news that Vanna was indeed marching her forces up out of the sea and upon Styor. There was only an hour to prepare and so as the Sisters armed and garbed themselves; adorning their robes of the sea, Medese had gone to his home with Torill and together they suited for battle. Torill adorned the lynx masked gifted to him by Kidimira and he was dressed in a black tunic decorated and armored lightly in gold and he wrapped himself in the black scale cloak of Carns gifting. Medese had taken his wand carried to the bone lance of Irivia, for she wished him to fight with no other weapon as she trusted this lance above any other weaponry that could found in Styor. The sisters had gathered in a line before the walls of Styor, the soldiers stood in rank behind them and at the Pavilion there was set a spell of protection for drummers were there and a choir too, for in his heart Medese knew this would be the last stand. He stood before the sisters, Irivia to one side and Torill at his other, and Ushebe was sent to the caves with the other children and the elderly who refused to flee to Alavosa. He was wearing his cloak of white feathers and the wind had ran its fingers through his golden hair and it blow about, catching the sunlight. Torill took up Weithweid, wanting to fight with any other weapon at first, but something brought him to the blade kept up in Illomon and so he took his great sword and stood waiting in the great field that stretched between Styor and the sea of trees.

Finally, after what seemed as an eternity to all those gathered, a single naga had come out from the treeline, slithering through the snow, her short hair was pale red and her skin a sandish gold. There came others, demons with deformed shapes made in mockery of animals, forsaken who whimpered in pain, and monsters born from vampiric magic. Then there marched forward, Vanna, taken her vampiric form once more, her long leathery wings seemed fairer then before, and her horns met now in a hoop of bone. Her lips were no longer scabbed and scarred, her teeth straightened and her fans shorted, her clawed hands were delicate now, and her dress was a flowing gown of black with great golden pauldrons and a corset of silver and scales that fell like a skirt over her dress.

Vanna waited as she wanted to what they would do, for she knew they knew she was coming, but what Medese did was something she could not have guessed; he sang.

Medese walked forward and then turned to face the host of Styorians and he took a deep breath and began his song, a song in old Myrrian;

“Di’ir meud afoti tusir vindir’nvya ird,

(We are not broken by the dread of the shadows,)

Di-suda vird as illosta ma unhura!

(We stand now with fire in our hearts!)

Favidr ull aidh as ulamvir idyr quist,

(Glory shall come now and all woes shall fade,)

Di’ir afoti irv’di naustv lui nuidyiyr.

(we are not broken for we stand here together.)”

He raised his arm high into the air and balled it into a fist and then there came the beating of the drums in fashion of the Sedhna;

Ba badum! Ba badum! Ba ba ba badum!

“When dragons fill the air and fire rains from above, who stands?” Medese cried out and the host answered;

“Alav-uii-ataltsa!”

“When death fills the streets and takes the guise of savages, who stands?”

“Alav-uii-ataltsa!”

“When the armies of the shadow are defeated who will be left stand?”

“Alav-uii-ataltsa!”

“Wat do we fight for?!”Medese screamed out and the answer filled the air like thunder;

“Alav-uii-ataltsa!”Medese had unclasped his cloak and threw it aside to reveal his flowing robes of silk that danced with the sunlight and the snow, colored in all the pigments of the sea. The silk swayed in the wind and Medese, with the bone lance in hand and his golden hair caught also in the wind, had looked more beautiful than ever and courage filled the hearts of the Styorians as they looked upon him and he cried out;

“Who do we fight for?!”

And in unison they answered; "Medese!" and the soldiers had charged forth, drawing their swords and spears and Vanna had sent her army to meet them and Medese was sobered by their answering cry and turned to see that all fought with untamed fury, meeting Vannas twisted and vile creatures with equal savagery. As the drums pounded, the choirs sang, and the shouts and cries of the Styorian filled the air, Medese had felt in his a great pang of despair as he saw truly, in that moment, what he had become.

Torill stood with him still and Medese turned to him and threw his arms around him and whispered into his ear; “I'm tired of fighting.”

Torill held him for many long minutes as the battle carried on and then let go of him and answered,

“One last fight and were both truly free,” He said and Medese knew this to be true. With all he's been through Medese could no longer be of the templants, to wary of the world now and sobered by war, he was free of the faith. Only when Vanna is slain will Torill truly be free and this filled Medese's soul with purpose and he turned to the battle, drew his wand, and with his lance he charged forth two and drove the spear through the skull of a vampire, blasting an enemy that lunged at him with a burst of magic and Torill knew now that his Innocent Songbird was now a warrior, but it was for their love that he fought and so too did Torill, drawing Weithweid.

The battle had raged onwards and Vannas forces contended equally with the Styorians and amidst it all Torill and Medese fought the fiercest, back to back. In the end however, the vile army of Vanna would gain the upper hand as even with great injuries they fought still with a viciousness that could meet no equal and so as the hour had passed and the shadow moon appeared at the edge of the sun, Vanna had thought herself victorious. The choir came to a crescendo and the stone moon of Valore passed over the sun and there was in the field before Styor a pure bloodbath. The moon looked red against the sun and it threw the beasts and demons into a frenzy and they fought with an otherworldly strength and the Styorians were overpowered in that matter of minutes. Soldiers were torn in half, fought over by forsaken and nagas, impaled on horns, dropped from the sky, torn apart by magic, drained of blood, and Vanna had joined the battle too and under the red glow she appeared as queen of death. She walked slowly through the c*****e and torill saw her approach and try to hold his courage for as long as he could, cutting down the attacking creatures with screams and cries as they filled the air with a stagnant rot.

Vanna finally came upon them and Torill could not stand his ground and dove from her reach with a whimper, her claws coming to wrap around the back of Medese's neck and he answered by flipping his lance around swiftly and driving it into her gut. Medese turned to Torill and looked at him with concern and he looked about and saw the piles of dead bodies and the blood the muddied the dirt and snow, he could bare no more bloodshed. With a blast from his wand he had sent Vanna flying back. As the booming drum echoed over the field and danced in the air with the roar of the ocean and the chilled wind, Medese threw his open hand into the air and let out an aria most holy and as his voice carried with all the sounds around him, the moon had pasted and the eclipse come to its end, Medese's magic was cast and all there in the field had frozen still and were locked, trapped beyond the flow of time.

There was left only Torill and Medese to face off against Vanna for he knew that if she was slain her army would dissipate and they would be victorious.

“My love fight with me, please, I cannot do this alone," Medese pleaded as he held his hand out to him and Torill was scared, but he remembered Kidimira, Angdira, those who were with him even now and he rose to his feet and Vanna simply laughed. She saw that he was cracked, his mended seams coming undone at the terror of it all. He softened and now he would die in his new found weakness. Torill took up Weithweid and with Medese's Lance they had battled Vanna who was terrible to look upon and fought with two pikes and with the iron clad fingers of her leathery wings. They sparred in the field of dead grass that reached up through the snow and Torill's mask was cast aside as Vanna struck him with her wooden pike, driving the other through his chest, and the mask shattered against a rock and the shards were never recovered and remain there beneath the earth even now. The stab was not fatal, but the pain was unbearable to him and so Medese fought alone as Torill could not keep himself standing.

The two battled fiercely, Torill looking as if had draped himself in the storming tropical seas caught in the blue glare of the afternoon sun, capped with foam and the deep waters where seaweed danced in the current. The wind billowed his silken robe and he fought with the bone lance and he matched Vanna's might and they were as equals in combat and so the battle was long and harrowing as for every blow Vanna landed, Medese landed two more.

Torill had held his wound, blood soaking his hands and his scaled cloak had come loose and draped heavily past his shoulder. He watched with growing dread the battle of Vanna and Medese, locked in a vehement contest. Torill struggled, but eventually he had gotten to his feet, throwing his cloak off and hobbling towards them, a hobble which grew into a limping jog, then he was running, wincing at the pain and stifling a cry, and he came past Torill and in that moment it was as if he was a child in training once more and he let out a bloody cry as he threw himself against her. He landed atop her and reaching for the dagger held usually to his swords scabbard, but he found only an arrow and in his momentary confusion he was thrown back and tumbled through the snow and grass, But Medese guarded him, throwing Vanna back with a thrust of his lance. Torill held the arrow in his hand and knew suddenly the reason it was gifted to them. Vanna had struggled against Medese, but she had managed to grasp the shaft of his lance and pulled him around her as he held tight to it too and as he went about in an arch around her she had drawn her thumb into his shoulder and as she raised him into the air with a ungodly cackle there was a guttural thunk.

The air had struck her between the shoulder and she made no sound, blinked not, and no breath passed her lips. She dropped Medese and she was an Illiban once more as her life wavered. She Stepped slowly forward and when she had driven her thumb into Medese's shoulder the world around them unfroze as she broke his spell by wounding him. The creatures fought not, but watched Vanna as she stumbled forward in the stow and collapsed, then they retreated. The soldiers that remained were exhausted, but cheered as the demons and monsters fled the battle. Medese thought her dead and he was joyous as her limp body lay there in the snow. He turned to Torill who had just reached for a bow and Medese went to him, but as he came close Torill raised the bow with the single arrow notched and he took aim, Medese thinking it to be aimed at him. Medese was shocked, fear welling within him, but there was a cry and Torill lunged forward, pushing Medese out of the way, but he held to Torill's tunic and simply spun about behind and watched as he let the arrow loose into the sky where it pierced Vanna's heart, but she fell upon them and they were both speared through the chest, but Toriil at the last turned to shield from Vanna's weight, not seeing the spear. Medese's hand grasped onto the fabric of Torill's tunic, he gasped for air and Torill was gurgling as blood pooled in his throat and he struggled to speak. Vanna was dead and they were free and before Torill took his last labored breath he uttered;

"I-I Love you, My Songbird," And he was still.

Medese was gasping for air, tears streaming down his face and all he could answer was; "T-To.... Toshalll...." and Medese was dead and the soldiers around them watched and wept and their bodies were taken from the battlefield and all of the Empire mourned that day.

The war ended suddenly as Dijynn had drawn his forces back from the reaches of the empire and he would not return until the time that the Myrrians named the 'Era of Heroes'.

So the tale of Medese and Torill ends here and know now that Styor would be rebuilt once more and it stands to this day, a statue of the two lovers locked in an embrace was erected in the grand cathedral of Illomon, one that overshadows the statuette of Ada. Their bodies were burned and the pavilian was laid to waste, demolished by the very hands of the temple choir, and where it once stood there arose a great tree with pink flowers and pale leaves, a sturdy and elegant tree; At it's base there was Weithweid and the bone lance and the ashes of the Songbird and the Illikryst nurtured the tree and to you who are reading this now, know that it stands almost as equal in height and glory to Illomon itself.