The Warlord

Chapter 51: Morella

My head attendants kneel before me, cloaked in simple, white garbs and plain sandals.

"There is a battle coming." My voice is low and lull as I pace the throne room. "One that will shake Heaven to its very foundations." I pause, soaking in my thoughts for a moment. "Will it be against Serestine? Or will it be a civil war. God against god, angel against angel..." I trail off, wondering what I should say next. "I must leave this place. I task you all with keeping my seat secure. Tell the others. You are dismissed."

They nod once, and then leave, obedient down to their very bones. As their white garbs drift away, I turn my attention towards the swaths of white clouds that coat Heaven's sky. My mother once read a story to me, when I was still young and could bear to listen to stories. There once was a great pathway that led all the way up to the stars, and at its feet was the garden of the Primordials. I turn away. Stories are just stories.

I glance over at the altar, but I know that that path is fruitless. Serestine's witch broke the spell I cast over her, thus sealing away the one tie I had with the middle realm. I could try for another witch, but they would have neither the strength nor the time to bring me to Serestine. I suppose it must be done. A cloak made of silk and feathers, dusted at its tips in gold, hangs on the hook of my room. It is cold to the touch, the kind of cold that speaks of cobwebs and a burial in the dark. I put it on.

Immediately, a prickling sensation overtakes my body, like static rising and foaming underneath my skin. My lungs tighten, my eyes roll backwards, and a vacuum seems to open up beneath my feet. My gown flies towards the sky in thick folds as I begin to fall, the familiar vertigo of deep space singing in my blood. The cloak cradles me, brushes against my bare arms with its soft feathers, and then it begins its work.

The feathers suffuse with my skin, bringing the prickling sensation to a full boil. My body is pulled and stretched, and then compressed in the blink of an eye. My arms unfurl into white wings. My heart beats fast and furious. My eyes grow sharp and beady.

A blue sky blooms from the darkness, and I am catapulted into the middle realm as a pink-beaked dove. The air is thicker here, the clouds thinner, and the trees tingling with a foreign magic. The wind ruffles my feathers and I glide unsteadily, unused to the cold, powerful gusts. As I situate myself comfortably below the clouds, I scan the earth below me, but there is nothing but thick forest after forest.

And then I feel his presence. Dark, ancient, looming with heights that could tower Heaven itself. He is a speck of shifting magic, thousands of feet below me, and yet he is large enough to swallow me whole. I slow my pace, fall behind, and then steadily plunge. As I near him, my stomach begins to curl with horror. Calthius, Calthius what did they do to you?

Wings, black as a starless night, carry him over the forest. I stretch towards him, flapping my wings, trying to soar on the gusty currents. He turns back to look at me and I screech, letting out a guttural squawk from my beak.

"Mother? What are you doing here?" His voice is low and coarse like gravel. His eyes, bleached of color, fix themselves on me. And worst of all is his face; his face once so full of youth and peach-blushed cheeks is now a leathery, gray mess. I turn my head away for a moment, to protect the image of my sweet child in my mind.

"Mother." He halts abruptly, and I nearly fly into him. My wings flap at his face as I redirect myself to circle around him. "Mother, what are you doing here?"

I let out a caw of disdain. I can't talk, fool! He holds out his arm and I perch on it, resting and preening my feathers. "You cannot talk? But you can listen, at least."

His gaze rests on somewhere far away, and a chill runs up my spine as I see the bittersweetness of wisdom on his every feature. His eyes glisten, his skin sags, and his mouth rests tightly as if set in stone. It is a look that greets me in the mirror each day.

"Harmony showed me the truth. It's all been a trick, Mother. It's been a cruel trick that came from lost love."

What are you going on about, Calthius? A trick? From who? But all I can do is cock my head and twitch my beak.

"Sanguinem Lapis killed the angel, and Lucerna never forgave him for that. It's been a trick all along."

I flap my wings, lifting off of his arm. Stop your rambling. I am going to Serestine, and you will return to Heaven.

He pays me no heed as he continues to stare at the horizon. "You must want me to leave, but I cannot. This will end at Serestine, Mother." I squawk in protest, flapping my wings in his face, trying to urge him to turn back and go home. He swats at me, gently pushing me aside. "Not now, Mother. I am not a child anymore."

Calthius, get back here! I make a beeline for him, but he pushes me away once again, and then, without looking at me, he begins to fly away. Calthius! I can feel my fury building up like a fire in my head, and I chase after him, weaving through the wind as fast as I can. Yet he is faster by a mile, covering more ground in one swoop of his wings. Soon, he is only a black speck in the distance, gravitating towards the line of the horizon.

I slow my pace, broken down, the ache in my heart making my chest sag. With this fragile dove's body, it will likely be a very long time before I reach Serestine. I swoop low to the trees and perch on a stray branch, resting while staring out into sky, trying to find Calthius. But this time he is truly gone.

With a heaviness in my steps, I push off of the branch and continue my journey onwards to Serestine.