Many seasons come and go. The kingdom has been rebuilt. The creatures have gone back to their domains. Werewolves have gone back into their forests, guarding them from intruders.
Witches and men have rebuilt towns and villages.
Mefistofel and his brothers have helped humans rebuild everything together.
Ariel and her sisters have helped all creatures heal and get them safe to their domains.
Arthion decides to travel to the reign of the ancient Queen Elynia.
He wants to cleanse that place from the Death that for too long lingers in it.
He walks those grounds with a light step, he can smell Death and Grief.
The ghost of Queen Elynia appeared to him, her face hidden by the veil of Death, delighted to see her ancient brother.
<My dear brother. So many centuries have passed. And yet I never thought I would be seeing you again. The world has fallen into War again. I can sense Death. I can sense despair. Why do you come here? Why do you come to visit us in our Death?>
-It is over now, my dear sister. The War is over. For a very long time.-
<The humans are destined to fall.>
-Yes. But there is always Hope in their fall. And this Peace will last a while.
I remember when we were growing up in these gardens, we would chase each other all day and make crowns of flowers for mother.-
Arthion walks around what once was a beautiful garden, now dead, reminiscing memories of so many centuries before. Ghost of those who fell whispers in his ears.
"Free us......"
"Please....."
"Set us free".
Arthion walks the steps of the tallest tree, to the highest room where once Queen Elynia and her kind reigned over the kingdoms of all forests.
Where once there was a beautiful throne, carved in beautiful wood, now lies a yule, turned black by dragon fire. Cursed in eternal burning, constantly emanating the black flames of Death.
Standing in front of the ancient throne, Arthion sits on his knees, chanting the ancient language.
Magic symbols appear around him on the burnt ground.
From a pocket of his robes, he grabs a beautiful dagger.
Engraved with symbols and enchantments, silver handles forged by Mefistofel's warriors and human smiths.
As Arthion chants louder and louder, the ghosts of the past surround him in a twist of Darkness and Death.
He feels all their anguish and all their pain.
He lifts the dagger as high as his arms can stretch.
The chanting is getting louder, and the cloud of Darkness is becoming more powerful.
With all his strength, Arthion plunges the dagger into his heart. Deeper and deeper until the pommel touches his skin.
A bright Light is released from his heart, The container of all his Power.
As the dagger goes deeper and deeper into his heart, the Light becomes brighter and brighter.
His whole body is wrapped into this Light, so powerful that can blind any creature daring to look at it.
The Light emanating from his body covers the ancient land. Wherever the Light touches, Life grows again.
Leaves grow, Flowers bloom, trees heal and return to their beautiful forms.
The dead branches are reborn with green, they don't wrap the statues like skeletons hands anymore. They hug them is a romantic embrace, supporting their weight.
The land is alive again. His Life for the life of his land.
Arthion collapses on the ground, his dagger in his heart. His arms laid out on the floor, reaching for the grass, caressing it, feeling it. His eyes turn towards the sky. It never looked so beautiful.
He can see the colour of eternal Autumn that once reigned in that land.
The world never looked so beautiful to him.
As he lays there, invisible arms pick him up. He's floating in mid air, a beautiful and warming presence is taking him to his resting place.
Few steps or a few miles, his body is so gently laid down again, onto a blanket of flowers.
The wood, once a dead yule, is changing its form to adapt to his noble guest.
Carvings of old Magic are drawn by invisible hands.
Arthion is laid down with his hands on his chest, a beautiful crown of roses on his silver hair.
A lady dressed in the most beautiful diamond robes walks up to him. Her wavy hair, her emerald eyes. Her crown, made of antlers and silver. She smiles at Arthion. She knows him. She's known him for thousands of years.
-Sister. I could not remember.... how beautiful you were.- His voice slowly fading.
Elynia smiles and giggles, looking at her brother with sibling love, stroking his silver hair.
-Brother. I have missed you all these centuries. We are free now. The land is free. Rest now, brother. Have Peace.-
-Peace.....- A single tear falls down Arthion's cheek. Tear of happiness. Tear of centuries of War, now wiped away by a single kiss on his forehead.
Closing his eyes softly, Arthion embraces the Peace that for so long his spirit has craved.
Elynia steps away. She vanishes in the wind, Always smiling at her beloved brother.
There Arthion will rest. In the most beautiful forest. For eternity. Undisturbed.
In a cave hidden underwater, a majestic statue of a winged warrior and his lover defends the place, armed with spears.
Their beautiful features of stone are stained by tears, falling so gently down their cheeks.
"Be at Peace, my Brother."
