Midnight Moon

Chapter 52 - The God-King

"No!" Veanna screamed and charged through the crowd, sword forgotten as she sprinted to reach her father before it was too late.

In the glimpses through the throng as the seconds crawled by, she saw him slice into his palm as her own had been slashed. Instead of presenting the wound to Ren, he thrust his hand into the beam of light, his back arching in a scream of pain that was lost to battle amid many others.

Veanna felt fleeting touches on her shoulders, as though others were trying to stop her advance. Perhaps they were her ancestors, or her fathers' soldiers, or even the Order, but none of them would catch her. She couldn't lose her father, not like this, not when she was finally able to go home again. She couldn't face returning to her mother alone.

The beam of moonlight pulsed, growing dimmer, and her father paled along with it. By the time she burst through a ring of guards to the dais, he looked older and frailer than she could ever have feared to see him. The spell seemed to be absorbing his very body, his hands turning almost skeletal and the moonlight casting deep shadows across his sinking cheeks.

As she reached his side, he shuddered within his armour - suddenly large on his thinning frame - and dropped to his knees, still raising his hand into the light. Veanna could hear Ren's roars of anger, yet she didn't care about anything but her father.

"No, you can't do this, let me... let me help!" She tried to tug him away but, weak as he appeared, he would not be moved. Desperately, she snatched her father's sword from his waning grip and held it to her bandaged palm, ready to share her blood with his.

But he put a hand over hers, shaking his head stiffly. "I can't let you... take that risk," he rasped, his voice unlike the one she had known all her life. "Not after... worrying so much... Just want... to protect you."

"Please," she sobbed, wanting to scream the word to anyone who would listen. All this time, she had been fighting to make her home safe to go back to, never thinking she might not have a full family to return with.

It was unfair that the last months with her parents had been robbed from her, and now she may lose years with her father. There was so much she needed to learn, so much help she needed him to give, and every wonderful part of him was fading before her eyes.

"Father, p-please," Veanna cried. "I'm sorry, just m-make it stop." She tugged at his arm again, seeing the blood that had dried to her wrists smearing on his armour. Her blood had raised Ren to life, but could not preserve her father. He lifted his hand and wiped away tears she hadn't felt flooding her cheeks.

"It's going to be... alright... I'm going to... make everything... alright." The light projecting to the moon was fading, and so was the brightness in his eyes. "I'm sorry... I'll keep you safe... this time."

Veanna curled into his embrace, praying that he didn't leave her. She couldn't let her father die.

***

They couldn't let Veanna die. As they advanced through the battle, the white light of the spell in the centre of the room flickered - the King must have reached his goal. Calu heard the man cry out in pain, a scream ringing through the chamber that surely came from Veanna, and an inhuman howl of rage echo from Ren's half-composed lips. They were the three members of House Risalus closest to life, and at least one of them would be in the grave before the night was over.

Ren whirled towards his coffin, his hands tracing a new rune in the air. They couldn't allow it to be unleashed, not if they wanted to end the ritual and keep their friend safe.

As if Calu's thoughts had materialised, a dagger sailed through the air and sank into the back of Ren's head.

"Hey, ugly!" Neyerith called, readying his second dagger despite the apprehension in his expression.