Kite - Chapter 11: On the Verge

 

Play if you want to read with music.

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A tear ran down my face, the glistening droplet fell to the ground and stained it darker. I sat beside the shell of the one faerie that had taken the time to get to know me, partly because she was born blind to the beauty of the world. Yet that had not dissuaded Dandelion from pursuing music, and here she was, forever playing her haunting melody.

I took a step back, shying away from the broken faerie when another chord struck my being, a violin’s melody now mixed in with the flute’s own. From the distance, a voice joined the symphony, the lamentation. It was music that inspired great grief in me, a grief that led me to seek the comfort I once had by the tree.

“Come, Ivan, I must visit an old friend…” I said, barely stifling a sob. Heart heavy, I unfurled my wings and rose through the heavens.

Higher and higher I climbed, the air whistling in my ears, loving the feeling of joy that it brought. I remembered the smells, the sounds and the energies of a time long gone as I approached the great tree. It was still alive, but I knew, there was nothing within.

“Welcome back, Kite…” said a voice in my head. Ivan stroked my neck gently when I suddenly stopped and just hovered there, beating my wings to stay aloft. It was a pleasant feeling, but nothing like the joy that surged through my veins that sent me flying in a loop. Ivan cursed softly again, wondering what had gotten into me.

“You’re alive!” I exclaimed in my mind. I heard the rustling of the leaves, the creaking of the branches and I even tasted the nectar of the now withered moon flowers.

“I cannot say that I really am… alive, Kite. I am using the last energy of this physical manifestation. Please, do as I ask and leave immediately” said the musical voice, a sort of urgency playing through the tones.

“I do as I must, oh moon spirit, simply command it” I replied, compelled to do so by something I could not fathom.

“Release the sun into the world once more. Break the pedestal…” Towards the end, the voice and its presence faded. The tree fell still once again.

From the distance I saw the roots of the tree open to reveal a passage. With all speed I flew towards it, forgetting that Ivan was on my back. When we emerged on the other side, all we saw in it was a pulsing yellow ball of flame on a pedestal of black rock speckled with gleaming white.

“And so the King who is not Kin, and the Fae who is not have arrived. Do what you must, there is no longer any winning this war” said a voice that emanated from the ball of flame. The very ground trembled beneath them and the tree creaked and groaned as though asking for release.

I turned to Ivan, acknowledging him for the first time and said “Break the pedestal.” Without question, he drew his blade and with a great shower of sparks, the pedestal shattered and the ball of flame zipped upward into the world, destroying the mountain that housed the isles and exploding into bright, bright light on the surface world.

Ivan and I left as the tree withered and died. Large chunks of rock fell from the mountains above us and many shattered isle after isle. I was numb even as I dodged boulders ten times my size. The grief was simply too great.

When we finally broke through, and descended to a more tolerable altitude, our eyes set sight for the world that for the first time in thirteen years was illuminated by the sun. It was not a pretty sight. All around were ruins and armies gathered everywhere, kingdoms were at war, and some villages were only smouldering ruins.

From a world of peace and solitude, we had emerged into a world that was on the verge of destruction.