Celeste's life is far from the enchanting fairy tale one might expect from a princess. Her father, a ruthless and self-absorbed king, leaves a trail of death and destruction in his wake. To seal alliances and maintain his power, he arranges for Cele...
Black magic has a price, a high price. Not everyone wants to pay that price, sees the need for it. Others cannot afford that price. Others make an attempt but fail. The last group pays that price, gets that power, but will never be able to fully repay their debt. That price cannot be expressed in money. It is a price that can be paid in consequences, in pain.
People see death as the highest price but that can be discussed. One might ask what is worse than death. Mutilation? Torture? Or is it still that eternal feeling of guilt? That feeling that keeps gnawing at you like rats do at death. What is worse than ending your life? Is that living in pain and sorrow? Is that living in a reality that you know could have been different? It is the perspective that makes each make a different choice. The question is not whether you can pay that price. The question is whether you are willing to accept the price.
The nymphs made their choice, paid their price. Living in total darkness, missing the light. It was their sacrifice, their choice. It was worth it, the night riders were invincible, immortal and elusive. Nothing or no one would be able to disrupt the magic in the world anymore. No one saw the need for a safety net or alternative, except one man.
'What happens if they die? Yin and Yang are not dead,' the man implores the red-haired lady. The lady puts the blue flowers on the wooden table and looks at the man with a look full of irritation.
'Don't you get it? They can't die,' she replies. The man is clearly not charmed by the nymph's answer. He sees it, he saw it, he knows it. He knows she is lying, he knows what is coming.
'Nira I beg you, no one is immortal. Yin and Yang also thought they were invincible and what did fate bring them?' Nira looks at the desperate man as she cuts a piece of rope from the scroll.
'We made a sacrifice that no creature would repeat. We created the most powerful creatures on earth, exhausted nature to its core and you believe we should create something again just in case? Nature will never let us again, never give us what we need. If we saw the need at all, it is a hopeless task.' Nira twists the cord around the stems of the flowers, makes a knot and pulls the rope tight. The man takes several steps to the left, looking through the dark forest. His brain is cracking to the point of being almost audible. He came with a mission and will achieve it at any cost. Nira continues with her bunch of flowers, hoping the man will leave and forget his purpose.
'If the night riders die is there nothing that will revive their kind?' the man asks.
'No,' the lady replies gruffly.
'And that's because of?' the man asks impatiently. Nira sighs deeply and tries to keep her deep-seated frustration inside.
'Because the lifelines are connected to them, not them to the lifelines. Their kind is made, it is not existing magic. The earth does not give that magic away by itself.' Nira grabs the bunch of blue flowers and puts it in the vase. There is silence for a moment, the man thinking deeply. The man looks up and lets his eye fall on the nearly full moon. The clear night lets the moon shine in all its glory, watching over the earth. The sight makes the man realise something, think of something. He turns to the nymph in a swift movement. Nira is just laying a handful of red flowers on the table.
'Can you connect their magic?' the man asks. The nymph looks up from the table and looks at the man with a look that fools him.
'Connect to what?' she asks. The man takes a few steps closer.
'The moon. You say nature is depleted, the lifelines do not have enough magic and cannot give it themselves. Connect some of the magic to the moon, let it reflect at the moment of panic.' Nira does not understand the man's idea, looks questioning.
'Connect part of all night riders magic to the moon. If a night rider dies, a small part of their magic will remain. Let the moon release it to a person with a connection to one of the night-riders. If all night riders die, their magic will remain in tact.' Nira just pulls the string around the red bunch of flowers. The idea the man comes up with is not entirely unworkable. While a safety net is not necessary, there is no harm in having one. However, it is not as simple as the man outlines.
'The moon can and will never give off the same magic as the lifelines do. A new night rider is not an option. The moon will function as a repository and even then you are not going to get the same magic back. What you will get is a very powerful mage and I already wonder about that. The night riders are ghosts, no living creature can carry that much magic. If a mortal gets such magic back from the moon, chances are the person will not survive or abuse it,' the nymph explained. The man leaves his eye on the moon, thinking. It seems like a case that is unsolvable, impracticable rather. The man's eyes go to the two bunches of flowers on the table. The red and blue spark an idea in the man's mind.
'Divide it.'
'Divide what?'
'Divide the magic,' the man says a lot more cheerfully than before.
'Divide the magic between a man and a woman linked to the night riders of that moment. Let the moon pass on the remaining magic from the night riders to these two people. Dividing the magic will make it easier for them to carry it. The moon will not be able to give the magic away completely in its full power, not always anyway.' Slowly, the idea begins to sink in with Nira and she understands which way the man is going. Her eye also catches the two bunches of flowers.
'Well when the moon is at its most powerful.' Both pairs of eyes linger on the flowers. They are thinking the same thing, they know the same thing.
'The blue and red moon.'
That was the day the safety net that will never be needed was created. Part of each night rider's magic was linked to the moon. The magic would be issued as soon as only one of the four night riders was alive and the last one dying. Willful would not be it. The magic will go to a relative, a blood relative.
A man and a woman will receive a large amount of magic. Magic that will normally require years of training, magic that does not weaken with age or can be taken away. They will receive the same immortality for old age but that magic will never be as strong as that of the night riders, except for two nights. Once the blue and red moon appear in the sky, their magic is strengthened to such an extent that they could defeat even the strongest enemy.
It became the safety net for the unlikely event of the lifelines being exposed. It was a good idea, a great idea perhaps. However, making this safety net was not entirely white and clean either. Playing with death is a dangerous game. The nymphs were not prepared to play that game again but the one man who saw the future was. Remicus Valius paid the price this time.
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