"sic ego nec sine te nec tecum vivere possum."
(so i can't live either without you or with you.)
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The Final Month
Iftia: War Zone, Tivaet Perimeter, Naailah's Tent
• Naailah •
Red painted over her vision and a tear fell from the corner of her eyes when she saw the sword pierced through the body of the person she loved with her entirety. This foretell haunted her mind for countless of time through the countless of nights. And it happened, like how it always would. Closing her eyes, she clenched her jaw tight to suppress the surfacing pain.
Matthias, I love you, even if we were meant for chaos.
Tears continued to flow from the edge of her eyes when her heart ached so badly as though someone had cracked her chest right open and spooned her heart out, leaving her cold and in pain. Beside her, the little princess stirred and whined in a frustrated voice as she swung her small arms around to throw a tantrum. Naailah turned to lay on her side, her hand patted softly on her daughter's stomach as she contained her sadness in her voice when she comforted, "Indira, my baby, it's okay."
The baby's whimpers became loud wails and Naailah felt helpless when she cooed, "Shh, my darling, please go to sleep. Everything would be fine once you wake up."
Her pitiful cries broke her heart but Indira quietened down at her assurance. Naailah smiled a little, continuing to pat gently on her stomach as she sang, "Sleep, take this child. To the gardens filled with stems of carnations and roses."
Rowan pulled Matthias up into his arms, letting out a painful groan of agony as he grieved. Matthias mumbled something weakly, yet too soft to be heard. Whether it was Lyra or Matthias, either had tears in those hazel eyes. For once, life had shone in them again — so momentarily before they disappeared. The war didn't die just because someone did. Matthias had fallen but time refused to hit a pause as the battlefield still roared with ruthless shouts and screams.
Following her tune and the soft melody that she hummed after each verse, Indira slowly drifted to the land of dreams. Naailah continued to sing even when her heart bled, "Sleep, my baby. In a walnut cradle. In embroidered clothes and covered with pearls."
From the south, the deep valley of Esia, large troops of fearless soldiers marched towards the battlefield following their commanders. A large green flag held high, flowing with might in the icy winds — the Rivian army. They had marched towards the tundra under the command of her oldest brother, Mahir, who powered the troops through the harsh climate with Rivian's war stone. Behind them, an ivory flag billowed out with pride and the Thethian army was led by the First Knight of Queen Elizabeth, Tavion.
Relief washed over Naailah and she held Indira closer to her, kissing on her forehead as the baby slept peacefully in her embrace. She finished the lullaby in a voice filled with sad tenderness, "Sleep with sugar. Sleep with honey. Bathe in rosewater, that bathes the angels."
Warm hazel eyes, toothy wide smiles and a messy wave of brown hair. It was the boy who stumbled into the temple the first time because his brother tugged on his arm too forcefully. It was the boy with a nervous crack in his voice whenever he talked to her. It was the boy who called her precious because he said her eyes dazzled like precious diamonds. It was the boy who snuck them out of the prayer room to go stargazing. As they lay in a quiet corner under the open amphitheatre, he had his gaze up into the sky as he counted each sparkle in hushed whispers. Breathless laughs and eyes that shone in awe, he wanted her to count with him and she did. She counted each breath they took in synchronicity while her eyes were on him all along. The boy she kept in her heart was brighter than the stars and moon — he was the sun.
Closing her eyes, Naailah had also fallen asleep.
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The Final Month
Iftia: War Zone, Elgens-Eseia, Battlefield
• Queen of Lycans, Kynthia •
The humans have ended their war, a clear victory for the Crown Prince who had the support from the other Kingdoms. When she saw relief flashed across Izekiel's amber eyes, she snarled, "It's not over between us, yet."
"Let's finish it up between us then, only us," Izekiel spat.
Kynthia leapt forward into her wolf form and Izekiel went into his panther form. Tilting her head back, Kynthia howled loudly to signal for her entire pack to halt their battles. Reluctantly, the white wolves heeded to their alpha and retreated. Izekiel also laid his commands and their kind gathered in a large circle, forming the edge of the arena which their monarchs would fight within.
Kynthia crouched low, waiting for Izekiel to make his first move but he remained still in his position for the longest time. Coward. She fumed and lunged forward, growling dangerously as she tackled in his direction. Her movements were fluid and without apparent effort as she lashed out at him with vicious strength. What infuriated her further was Izekiel's passivity, he only accommodated and dodged each of her movements without intentions to strike.
Angered, she treated back and snapped at him, baring her canines threateningly towards him before she arched back into her human form. She incensed, "If you aren't going to fight back, you won't have a chance to kill me!"
Izekiel also took his human form, responding simply, "I am fighting."
This cat was definitely mocking her and nothing fuelled her more than the fury that rose blindly in her. Sprinting towards the edge of the perimeter, she unsheathed a sword from a body that lay on the ground and charged towards Izekiel. Their movements were synchronised and by the time she reached him, their swords jangle on the impact of their force. They stood face to face with each other.
"Why?" Kynthia only asked.
Izekiel remained wordless but a flash of sincere emotions flashed in his eyes and she saw one that she didn't understand — affection. Straightening her arm, she pushed him away and exhaled a sharp breath. She ridiculed, "If you loved me, why did you hurt me?"
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• King of Panthers, Izekiel •
Izekiel refused to say a word, not because he had no words to tell. Rather, he had too much to say and every word that swelled in his chest would only bring them down a path of no return. The moment he left Mt. Lusian, he was determined to end this ill-fate between them before further damage could be done.
Their faces leaned too close to one another and their lips were just a few breaths apart. Izekiel watched how every emotion refused to be concealed on her beautiful face. Her hurt was evident in the crease of her lovely brow and he could still see remnants of her love for him deep within the restless gold of her eyes.
There was simply nothing in this entire realm that could take her place in his eyes and in his heart. It was a relief that a century and his betrayal hadn't extinguish the blaze in her eyes — pride and courage still turned her eyes into orbs of the brightest fire. The way she moved still exude her spirit, the indication that she would fight to the very last tear of her life and nothing in this realm could break her. Kynthia's beauty was never delicate and quiet. It was incendiary, tempestuous and soul-shattering.
"Fight me, darned it!" she insinuated, desperate when he remained passive.
Lavinia, mea soror, please forgive me.
(Translate: my sister.)
Smiling at his little wolf, he threw the sword in his hand away. A muted clank sounded when the heavy sword thudded into the bed of snow beneath. Without warning, he walked into the tip of her sword and let it pierced through his chest. His vision began to blur and his senses were dulling, but he could hear her screaming his name so clearly, "No, no, no! Izekiel!"
He wanted to end his own life, severing it in the quickest way possible but Kynthia reacted too fast and gripped onto the hilt of the sword so tightly to prevent him from driving the sword right through his own spine. Coughing out a mouthful of blood, he laughed weakly, "Isn't this what you wanted, my beloved?"
She caught his falling body and cradled him close to her. For the first time, he saw her cracking under her emotions and her wreaking sobs were so heart-wrenching to hear. She pressed gently against his chest, horrified when nothing she did was stopping the flow of blood. Kynthia looked desperate and helpless — never a trait present in these prideful wolves. She cried, "W-Why? Why do you always do this?"
"Kynthia," he called her tenderly, as he gripped onto the sharp edges of the sword. Disregarding the pain from the blades digging into his fingers, he tried to push the sword in. But it was all halted by her again and he sighed.
"Stop it!" she wailed.
"I'll give you a good reason and you'll let me go, Kynthia," he exhaled excruciatingly. Her face became a blur of colours in his vision but he saw gold and silver in a manner that was so contrasting, yet so belonging. This could be them, if not for everything that stood in between.
"Between us, love was never enough," he smiled weakly, his voice falling softer each time. "I cannot love you without hating you and I don't want us to suffer like that. I cannot let my sister down, I cannot let my panthers down and I cannot let you down."
When she didn't say a word in return except to cry in the most heart-shattering manner, he continued, "If a debt can only be paid by blood, I offer mine to appease the wronged. So, please let me go now."
She refused to let him go and he frowned against the agonizing pain. Forcefully, he fought against her strength and drove the sword deep into his body and he felt the pain right through his spine. A smile tugged from his lips and he gripped tightly onto her hand, "Let's meet again in our next life, Kynthia. Then, we'll be happy, we'll be—"
Izekiel coughed out a mouthful of blood and Kynthia howled with harrowing grief. He insisted on holding onto her hand, as he looked towards the bleak, grey skies. He smiled, "Don't cry, my little wolf. Don't be sad anymore, let me take all of your pain away."
"No, don't take it away—" Kynthia panicked, trying to withdraw her hands but he had held onto it with all his remaining strength. She struggled, crying out his name, "Izekiel!"
"May your regrets follow me to my grave," he whispered. "Farewell, Kynthia. Memento oblivisc."
(Translate: Remember to forget.)
He loved her but hated her. He wanted her but abandoned her. He was too selfish whenever it concerned her. This last time, he was determined to put an end to their misery by ceasing his existence.
He would dissipate into nothingness — in the same manner he turned his breath into air and their love into dust.
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POST-WAR
Elianna stayed where she was and waited nervously for everyone's return. Kaylon, Tristan and Alec were the firsts to return. They were injured but thankfully neither too serious nor fatal. Ilias was next and astonishingly almost unscathed — all the blood on his armour belonged to someone else. The greatest swordsman of Iftia wasn't just a name, after all. Thunder followed to gather with them slowly after. The panther lunged at Elianna at first sight and pushed her into the bed of snow beneath her, relief swept across his expression. They waited for a long while and their hearts were about to sink until heavy thuds sounded from a distance and when they all turned, it was Rowan. He had Matthias on his back and when he walked, blood trailed the path behind them. Rowan was silent throughout, and no one else said a single thing either.
Mahir and Tavion were the last to meet with them and they brought with them, the captured commander from the antagonist faction, Silvestra Cazeau. All of them looked at each other, silently thanking each other for being alive. Supporting each other, they all returned to Tivaet, where their camps were. The injured were placed in the medical bay while the rest of them went towards Naailah's tent.
Baby wails from within alerted Elianna as she was the first to rush in and carry Indira up in her arms. The air was even tenser than before when all of them learned that the divine oracle had fallen deep into the curse of her gift. Everyone shared another long moment of silence before they stood in front of her bed and bowed low, honouring Naailah for her noble sacrifice.
Year of Cephei, Fall, Day 84
the Darkest Winter of Iftia had ended
and a new dynasty shall rise.
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a/n: i've got nothing to say, maybe, you have words for me?
(let me know. but i will not give spoilers on any later chapters, sorry!)
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