Into the prisons of the castle.
-Lucius! What a surprise! Are you going to let us out?-
-Sure. - Lucius suddenly stops, looking at the man lying on the floor in a pool of blood.
-What have you done to him?-
-Nothing, we just had a bit of fun. He'll be fine. He's going to have just a big headache.-
Although suspicious, Lucius lets them out. He knows better than arguing with them.
-All the witches are having a reunion in the throne room. We shall prepare the defence. You shall be given power to move into light. Then we shall fight. We fought 200 years to be free. We shall fight other 200 to be free again.-
In the throne room, Celandra, all the witches and the vampires who stayed behind have gathered.
-Welcome all. You all know the casualties which are taking place now. Articus has spread a war. He tried to make our Master Feldor and me his allies. Feldor has been killed. You all know about his power. Not all of you know about a war which occurred in this World aeons ago. Feldor was the keeper of the Balance of life. With his death, the World is about to collapse if the Balance is not restored by a worthy keeper. In the ancient times there was a war that almost destroyed Feldor and his race.
An ancient weapon has been lost in the War aeons ago. Mefistofel and his brothers have left to look for it. We shall fight and protect our town until they do not return. We can fight in the day, but you cannot. We shall work that out for you. Sisters!-
Using the same magic they used on Mefistofel, their bodies are surrounded by light which makes them shine like the sun. The light spreads into the whole room, forcing some of them shielding their own eyes.
Vampires themselves could not imagine how much power the witches could contain.
A strange feeling is inside their body: warmth and the heartbeat echoing into their ears like a drum, almost annoying.
As the spell is done, Celandra speaks again, now with heavy toil in her voice.
-Now we shall join our powers to fight our war together. We do not know how much time we have left.
Still we have no choice. It's time to organise a strategy. We shall raise protective spells, but they can't last for long. Lucius shall help us organising a defence plan.-
At Lucius' order, the soldiers spread up around the towers and the walls of the town.
Celandra organises the defence from the wood, with all the creatures she can summon. Lucius can see how the toil and the pain are deep into her soul and heart. Her heart is a smashed mirror, the pieces are spread all around and nobody can collect them, even her.
-Celandra, you are very tired. You should rest.-
-We have no time to rest. You shall never be able to fight what is soon to come. You are human. You don't know what magic can give. It can save or it can destroy. The world is soon to fall into darkness. You are not able to stop it by yourself. Resting won't help us now.-
Lucius is looking at her with caring eyes, about to say something, but he's stopped by a soldier entering the room.
-Commander. Man at position. We have shifts organised. We wait for your orders.-
-Hold positions.-
-Yes, sir!-
The soldier leaves the room leaving them alone again.
-I shall prepare my defence. I wish not to be disturbed. I shall call you if I need you.-
-As you wish.-
In a deep cave hidden in the forest, Celandra is organising a gathering with all the witches, to awake their hidden powers.
Inside the cave, in a dead hollow tree, her most secret book is kept safe. The branches of the tree would strangle everyone who shall try to grab it.
Celandra grabs the book, the branches release their grip from the book, recognising their Mistress.
No one is allowed to read the book, only a powerful mind would be able to read and understand its power.
A weak mind would be destroyed.
-Now we shall gather in the shape of the star of the North. The mother of all the stars. Concentrate, sisters. We shall awake our true powers.-
Joining all their hands, Celandra sings in her ancient elven language, a language nobody remembers. Then her language slowly turns into an even older language and all the witches join her in her chanting. A light appears, penetrating their body and enlightens the whole cave in such a blinding light that turns the night into day. Slowly the light is vanishing, leaving them with warmth that goes deep into their souls.
When Celandra stops singing, they feel the power so strong, nearly dangerous. Ariel feels inside her a sense of Peace she thought she could have never been able to feel. They can hear everything: every animal step, every leaf falling from the twig, every voice in the wood. The slightest noise of an insect would be as loud as a drum in their ears.
-The time of Peace is over. The time for War has come!-
On the following night, Feldor's body is taken into the forest, on his people's shoulders in a walk that starts from the royal palace. The town is wrapped into the most respectful silence of the darkest night. Every creature of the town joins the silence. Some figures come out of the doors holding candles in a respectful silence, some others give a bow to the Ancient One, and some others keep their door tight shut.
The hands of the Master lay on his chest; his body lies on a marble bed carried by his disciples. His face has been cleaned from the blood. All around him magic lights carried by fairies lit his body on the way to his eternal place of rest. His vest is the purest white linen, and the light of the full moon shines upon his golden garments.
Every creature hidden in the shadows is giving honour to their Master. Guardian wolves stand silently in their beastly features. Witches are wearing black gowns; Celandra is wearing a violet one, with a black veil hiding the sorrow of her eyes.
An image of splendour of his race, in the glory of centuries.
In the deepest area of the forest, Feldor is gently laid on the base of a tree, strong enough to sustain the weight of his splendour.
Heavy steps come from the forest, and the guardian wolves give their tribute to their Master, bowing deeply, gathered around his body, putting crowns of flowers at his feet.
Fairies fly down from the trees and gently float above his body, spreading a golden rain, descending on him, giving him a wonderful golden crown.
All the creatures gathered, Celandra sings sad songs in her ancient language.
Words about love, hope, loss, death.
Nobody can understand those words, but the tone of her voice is sharp and sad that enters everybody's hearts, as even those words were crying their pain.
The words for her lover, whose last words are still echoing into her mind.
"My sweet angel......"
The song goes on for what seem minutes, or maybe hours.
Feldor's body is taken in a hidden sepulchre made of stones and marble, made by his own disciples who carried it inside the caves that gave life to the waters flowing in those lands.
In the deepest cave of the underground secret land that his people made home.
Nature will cover this cave, so nobody will ever disturb his rest. Trees will cover the cave and wolves will guard their Master for the end of days.
There he will rest in eternal Peace, away from any creatures that mean any harm to his slumber.
Safe from the destruction of the land he so much loved.
In a land now lost and forgotten, a young fair lady walks with soft steps in a forest enchanted in an eternal autumn: golden leaves falling, softly leaving a golden carpet in which the sun reflects its warm rays.
A young elven lady, with hair as black as the night, and eyes as deep as centuries of the world, silver sleeves wrap her arms, her hands tenderly play with the falling leaves.
Another shadow walks in the same forest, carrying the age of the world, beholding the beauty of his land. His armour is the most splendid, made of silver and steel.
The sun shines upon his glorious figure.
When he sees the figure walking by, his heart falls in the fairest dream in which only humans can refuge their mind into.
-Nature can be very generous with its children, giving them great gifts, like a mother who gives her love to their children. I could not imagine how Nature could give her own beauty and carve it into such a fair maiden. I think I see the face of beauty and love.-
The fair lady slowly turns to the man who so softly talks to her, still tenderly playing with the leaf into her hands. Her eyes look directly into the man with a smile which seems stolen from a summer night moon.
-Do you use your sword in same way you speak, my lord?-
The warrior slowly walks toward her, resting his hand on the handle of his sword, standing in his most proud posture.
-My sword speaks of battles, honour, values and death. But it cannot speak about beauty, or love. I fight in the same way I love: with my heart. Heart which is now sinking in a dream and I wish it may never wake up.-
-A dream?
A dream can last for seconds, hours, centuries. But one must wake up, sooner or later.-
-If this is a dream, then I wish never to wake up. If waking up means never admire your beauty again, my lady of the woods.-
So softly the warrior lifts his hand from his sword to hold the fair figure's hand in such a gentle way, as he would be touching a feather. Kissing it, softly as the soft fabric wrapping her silky skin.
