Chapter 97 The End pt1
Dawn rises the next morning, but none of us have slept.
The long night was spent helping survivors clear the courtyard. Mass pyres of the dead burn in multiple spots, the stench of burning flesh and acrid smoke stinging our eyes. Dirty, tear-streaked faces blur together as servants drag and carry family and friends. Zaries is among them, just as dirty and grim. He lifts the dead onto his alicorn’s backs to be delivered to the pyres.
Sylvain curled into a ball of grief just before the fingers of light hesitantly touched the jagged piles of stone and destruction. She lost a lover, watched him torn in two. It’s a loss that she’ll always carry.
Trying to push myself on despite the exhaustion, I stumble over the uneven cobblestones. The carnage from the dragons is like nothing I could have imagined. They left nothing but scorched earth in their wake, destroying everything that’s stood for centuries.
I want to fall to my knees and sob. So many people we cared about died in the attack. So many people who protected the realm are gone. We’re the only ones left and we haven’t even been slayers for twenty-four hours.
I scan the courtyard, disbelieving that everything is gone, and my eyes land on Oberon.
He’s sitting on top of his alicorn, his blond hair a halo in the new light. He faces the sun, head tilted up toward the sky defiantly, facing the direction the dragons left with hatred and determination in every taut muscle.
I swipe at the tears on my cheeks, wondering when they’ll stop. The dragon attack didn’t destroy all the slayers, and the ones it left behind will be more determined to bring about the end of the dragon’s reign of terror than all those before them.
My knees give out and I fall to the cobblestones. I clutch the ground, trying to understand what will come now. My friends are slayers. They’ll be the strongest ever seen.
But me? I’ve been trained by the dragons themselves.
Tharros fought for us.
Tharros might have died for us.
The dragons weren’t attacking because they wanted to, Silas was forcing them.
How can I ever tell my friends that?
They’ll never understand.
“Anara? Are you alright?”
I look up to see Zaries kneeling in front of me. I can’t do anything, can't reply, can't smile.
“Hey, I know this is bad, but we’re alive,” he whispers as he slowly pulls me into his arms. “We’re going to be alright.”
We embrace in the middle of the carnage as I cling to him. This is the Zaries I’d dreamed of. But if he knew…
“No matter what happens, I want you to know that I always—”
“Zaries! Step away from that traitor!”
Silence descends over the courtyard as everyone looks to the sky as Malachi appears. He’s unharmed, spared from the battle. Strong in ways our broken, exhausted bodies can barely remember.
Because the coward wasn’t here to protect Hellbane and its inhabitants.
He leaps off Reaper's back before they land and unsheathes his sword, pointing it directly at me. “She has lied to you all.”
Zaries’ eyes narrow menacingly and he steps in front of me, his hands on the hilts of his swords. “Aren’t we past this, Malachi? We just fought a horde of dragons. She was here, at our sides. Where were you? Why aren’t you covered in blood and filth like the rest of us?”
“She fought with you, you say?” Malachi barks a laugh before swinging his sword.
He attacks as if there's no one between him and me. He attacks as if Zaries is a shield he’s willing to annihilate.
Their swords clash with a deafening clang, sparks flying from the impact. Both men bare their teeth, faces contorted with exertion and rage, as they slash and parry at one another. Zaries defends me blindly, his focus unyielding as he matches Malachi's ferocity blow for blow.
“What’s going on here?” Oberon snarls, pulling me away from the fight and pushing me toward Sylvain and Luna.
Malachi lunges forward with a vicious thrust, but Zaries twists just in time, their blades scraping together in a shower of sparks. “I’ve been telling you this whole time not to trust her! I’ve tried to kill her time and time again! She always finds some way to rise above us, to win, even when we are stronger! Why do you think that is?”
With a sudden burst of strength, Zaries shoves Malachi back, creating a brief moment of separation. “Malachi, that’s enough! Let it go!”
“I will never let it go! She needs to die! She needs to die today!”
“I’ve had enough of this.” The scrape of Oberon drawing his sword from the scabbard is the sound of another friend willing to die to protect me.
Except Malachi is right.
I’m a traitor.
“I won't let you hurt her!” Zaries roars, moving to the left to let Oberon in.
“She has blinded you both,” Malachi snarls. “You wanted her dead, Zaries. Now you fight for her? What is this? What have you become?”
“Malachi, end this now!” Oberon roars, stabbing low while Zaries swings high.
Malachi parries each blow, his wrath undimmed by the fact he’s facing two skilled attackers. He will fight to the death.
Zaries’ and Oberon’s.
I step forward, desperate to stop this. “No, I—”
Oberon turns and forces me to retreat. “Stay back, Anara, he’s trying to kill you!”
“There's something I have to tell you!” I shout, trying to shove Oberon away.
Malachi retreats a couple of steps, grinning coldly. “Let the traitor speak, Oberon. I swear you’ll never see the bitch the same after she does!”
“I will never let you hurt her!” Zaries screams, lunging again.
“You don’t even know her!” Malachi shouts, slashing and stabbing as he backs away from the prince.
Zaries has lost all sense, his eyes are in full rage. “I will not lose another person dear to my heart!”
Malachi’s eyes widen in shock, and then narrow dangerously. “Dear to your heart?” He lowers his sword, seeming dismayed, shocked, but then he starts laughing.
“He’s lost it,” Oberon mutters, his strong arms still holding me back.
“I was wrong,” Zaries says, his voice stained with heart wrenching emotion. “Anara was the one. She always was.”
I’m frozen. Terrified. Overjoyed.
Slowly, painfully, being torn in two.
Malachai bellows with more laughter, bending at the middle as he slaps his thigh with his sword. “You think your heart can be trusted, my lord? Well, I have something you should know!”
“No, please! Let me tell them!” I cry. “You don’t understand!” I fight against Oberon’s hold, surprised to find his hands slackening. One glance over my shoulder reveals the confusion wrinkling his brow.
“Anara?” Sylvain whispers.
“What is he talking about? Oberon hisses. “What’s going on?”
Malachai straightens, triumph lighting his features with a sick hue. “Anara was with the silver dragon. I watched them bewitch the black bitch right in front of my eyes! They sent the dragons here!” He points his sword at my chest. “Anara’s responsible for the destruction of Hellbane and everyone here!”
“No!” I scream, falling to my knees.
Oberon takes a step back, looking confused. But also wary.
“That’s not what was happening!” I cry, begging for a chance. “I can explain!”
Zaries, Oberon, and Sylvain look at me. Waiting.
I wrap my arms around my middle. “Dragons aren’t the enemy we thought they are—”
Zaries’ sword clatters to the ground.
“Please, you have to listen to me! Humans attacked the dragons first. We started this war—”
“You’re defending them?” Oberon roars. “No wonder you couldn’t destroy the egg!” He takes another step back, his features hardening. Sylvain looks like she’s been battered by grief all over again.
Zaries turns to look at me, that betrayed look I’ve known for so long twisting his handsome features once more.
Malachi looks like all these lies and pain are a buffet he’s gorging on. “But you know what, while we're sharing, I always knew Elysandra didn’t love you, Zaries.”
“W-what?” he whispers, spinning back to face the man he once believed was a friend.
Malachi leaps, taking advantage of Zaries’ surprise. He shoves him so hard he stumbles, then stands over him, his sword pointed at his throat.
I launch forward, desperate to make it stop, but hard hands clamp around my arms, pinning me to the spot.
“Is this what you wanted?” Oberon hisses, his voice nothing like the childhood friend I knew, the man who professed a forever love.
Malachi sneers as he steps closer to Zaries, towering over him. “I knew the whole time Anara was writing the letters. I knew, because Elysandra warmed my bed every night while you read a maid’s pathetic declaration of love in the next room.”