SONG OF POWER

Chapter XXVI: The Child of Good and Evil

SONG OF POWER

CHAPTER XXVI:  THE CHILD OF GOOD AND EVIL

Rain spattered against the dull window, a cold, incessant drizzle.  It was the sort of rain that seemed to fall from the sorrowful eyes of the Risen Gods themselves.  The precipitation drummed impotently against the stoic expanse of glass that separated the darkness within the room from the darkness without.  Its steady drumming was soothing, if sad, much like the cold feeling one feels within when they become accustomed to despair.

The room the rain was so intent on entering was little more than a simple, comfortable cell.  The door to the room was left ajar, and the shaft of light this permitted to enter the room seemed so out of place that it stood nervously subdued in contrast to the bold, self-assured darkness that dominated the cell.  A guard stood outside the chamber, shifting from one foot to the other or coughing softly to break the tedium of the duty he was assigned.

The interior of the room was sparsely inhabited, containing only a high, soft bed and a trio of narrow, cushioned chairs.  The heavy drapes were corded off, framing the window rather than hiding it.  The chairs were empty, but the bed was occupied by the nearly-lifeless form of Baronetessa Tyroce Lulu Lostheart.  A homespun white blanket covered her snow-white skin from the neck down, but the softly-glowing ruby at her throat just barely pushed its light through the blanket.  Tyroce was dying, and the light of her ruby was fading just as surely as her life-force.  Like the soft rain outside, her essence was as sadness and despair.

Figures approached the bored sentinel, who exchanged hushed, curt words with the intruders.  The quick exchange resulted in the guard allowing Baron Alafin and Donk to enter the chamber.  They stood in reverent silence for a few moments, staring at the dying beauty lying peacelessly on the bed.  So as not to disturb her, the pair left the room, pulling the door shut behind them.  The light was thankfully allowed to retreat from the darkness.

“What did you learn, my friend?” Alafin asked Donk in a whisper that was somewhere between excitement and apprehension.  The ogre took a knee to even out the size difference between himself and the lord of the manor, then spoke in a rumbling whisper.

“Tyroce is lost without Cipher,” Donk said, “and she will set forever with the rising of the sun! Only Cipher has the power to save her,” Donk’s voice was desperate, his eyes wide and wild.  Vasos gripped the ogre’s huge hand with both of his, squeezing tightly to stop the rising panic he felt within him.

“Father Somerled predicted more time than this!” the pudgy baron argued, frustrated.

“Fool!” swore Donk.

A sound, woefully lacking in volume, managed to interrupt the ogre’s rage.  It sounded four times, each time being replaced with Cipher, Rowena, Ninthalsaya, or Grivel.  The mage was weary from his efforts, while the Covey was weary from worry.

“I brought them as swiftly as only I am able, honored herald,” Grivel announced with pride to Donk.  The ogre nodded once before pushing the chronomancer aside.  He took Cipher’s hand.

“There is no time to explain, but you must do as I say.  You must enter the Dream Realm and bring her back, or else she will enter a nightmare from which there is no return.  I tell you the truth, whatever afterlife she is headed towards is not one she wishes to endure for all eternity.  You must go to her, and go now!” Donk’s voice trembled with concern.

“How do I go to her?  What do I do when I get there?  What do you know, Donk?” Cipher asked in rapid succession.  The ogre cleared his throat.

“You need to enter her nightmare and kiss her,” Donk instructed.

“I don’t understand,” Cipher began, but Donk held up a massive hand to silence the human.