("If the sky was streaked with lightning,
if I wept without ceasing,
what would you do?")
Trandeth'lin the Bloodstained, the mighty, the evil, was destroyed, obliterated by the backlashing of his own powerful magic by Refraction and Reflections-in-the-Water, martyrs of Seneleneya. Evil was vanquished by self-sacrificing good, and the shining City of Dragons was saved. CeaNuelia remained in the World, saved by chance or Goddess's touch that kept her from being crushed by the collapsing cave around her. She raged at such strange chance when she came to and realized what had happened, and raged into insanity at Senleneya, promising fiery torture to all those that had a hand in her beloved's demise. Her fury was not to last at such dramatic intensity, for as she ravaged the destroyed labratory for Trandeth'lin's spellbooks and arcane artifacts, she found the dark spread-winged stain of the Blood-stained's shadow imprinted on the floor. For this dark child of the Storm, this was the End of all, and she fell at once to the jagged, cold rocks melted by Trandeth'lin's magic and blacked out.
Thus began DarkStorm's nightmarish existance: a tenuous thread held to the World only by her twin StormHunter, but in her hatred of life she turned away even from him and ran feral over the plains. She set her knife to her flesh then, desiring no more of her weary life and certain that StormHunter would not stop her this time, and flayed wide the vital bloodstreams in her arms. But as she faded into the unforgiving dark, she dimly saw a figure of shining light bend over her still form, and she wept, knowing that death was once more denied her.
Jonathan, Knight of the Guard, took DarkStorm to his home in Orgiria, and there nursed her back to health. He knew nothing of her past and did not press her to tell of it, for he was a good and noble man, and DarkStorm began to feel safe once more in his care. She stayed with Jonathan for many years, and in those years, he fell in love with her, and finally asked for her hand in marriage. DarkStorm fled from his house into the streets of Orgiria, and Jonathan searched for her in vain, ignoring even the summons from his commander as the city was assulted.
Robert DuNage sought to reign in the north even as his cousin Ambrose ruled in Argerstien, and so he gathered up an army and attacked Orgiria, Stronghold of the North. The eastern wall of the city and the left flank of the king's army had both fallen, and there was madness in the streets, but Jonathan paid them no mind as he searched for his beloved. He climbed up high along the city ramparts and broad stone walls, stumbling and weeping and calling for DarkStorm. And finally, high on the western wall, gazing over the plains as though she could see the City of Dragons where she had learned to love the darkness, he found her.
She spoke no word, spared him no glance, as he knelt and kissed her soft kid boots, as through his tears he apologized. She stood silent for a long while, then bade him to stand, and pressed her lips and body against his in a long kiss. DarkStorm pulled away longingly, and looked deep into his eyes as she plunged her dagger into his heart.
Robert's assult on Orgiria failed despite their earlier successes, for as the main battle raged into the city plaza, a dark, shrouded figure on a horse of midnight-flame appeared, throwing lighting from her fingertips, and Robert's troops were the first to break in panic. The remainder of the king's guard routed the rabble even as Shadow lifted DarkStorm to her saddle, and together they left the city for Shadow's ancient hiding place in the Great Pine Valley.
You have turned from the light," Shadow told Dark as they rode. "Your soul is tainted with darkness and blood- no longer Naapi's creation. Your heart's master has now set free his master- our master- and his time swings 'round again."
And so DarkStorm stayed with Shadow until Trandeth'lin's rebirth as Tondrin GoldPaw (the exile), and awaited the coming of Nanthrum, Keeper of the Palace of Ice.
© WindChaser. July 16, 1999