Best read with : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zaLoBdqcvVY
A black cloaked figure drifted across the white plains. In the moonlight, the discerning glint of his sword shone through his robes.
He let his hood slip to his neck, revealing himself to the watchers. His expression appeared pained. He stared at the base of the tree ahead of him. His brow furrowed for a fleeting instant, yielding to the turmoil inside his head.
A silver tear slid down his cheek, trembling on his chin before plunging to the white grass below.
He knew there was no turning back and that she would be ready. But he had already set out to end this sickening task, and he would not return without her head, if he would return at all.
And so he ignored the tree of torment that guarded the citadel, quietly whispering the counter curse as he soared past. The white leaves withered and slowly floated to the ground.
He stood at the base of the gate, head lowered, hands loose. The watchers were nowhere to be seen, but he knew they would come. He took a deep breath, picturing the carnage of the village, using it to fuel his hatred. And then finally, he let his hands drop to his hilt.
With a dull numbness he danced through the guards, his sword flashing around like a third limb. The bodies fell around him, like wooden puppets released from their malevolent strings. He ducked and swiveled, twisted and jumped, ending the lives of the legendary watchers as if they were just another training dummy. He only felt a small sliver of amusement at the failure of defenses that had thwarted two whole armies before the King begged at his feet for help.
Past two more watch-posts and three flights of stairs, he finally reached the main hall. The giant doors swung open at his touch.
There she was, in all her wicked magnificence. Her red and black robes clung to her lithe body displaying her dangerously seductive curves.
There she was, the woman who had tortured and murdered an entire race.
There she was, the woman who had climbed the hierarchy of the lands, felling the leaders of yesterday before assuming her position as overlord.
There she was, the woman who he had fallen in love with a decade ago, his wife, his lover.
There were no words, there were no greetings. She bowed, her gaze never leaving his. Her face had changed since the last he saw her. Her beautiful face had acquired a malicious shade, making her look more terrible, yet even more attractive. Her pale face bore the slightest hint of a bitter smile as she flew into the air, swords appearing in her hands.
He managed to deflect the first blow, raising his hands just in time. But as she spun and lashed out furiously, he only ducked and swerved away, keeping his eyes on hers.
Perhaps he still had hope, perhaps he still believed that she would remember those words of eternal passion and lust, whispered under moonlight a lifetime ago.
Moonlight filtered in through the magnificent windows of the hall, but all she had for him were the whispers of their swords glancing past each other.
“Ella!” He gasped, out of breath. She paused for a second, contemplating his gaze.
He swallowed hard, trying to find the right words that would make everything back to normal, the magical verse that would fix everything.
He was one of the greatest casters that ever existed, but they never taught that one in the academy.
“Why?” He finally managed to blurt out.
She cocked her head.
“Why?” Her icy soft voice made the hair on his neck stand. “It is you, who have come here with you’re your sword held high, Malliken dearest.”
“No Ella, Why this?” He said, waving his free arm around the hall. “Why destroy the Ellids, why kill Lord Eru, why enslave the city?” He said, his voice almost pleading.
They let go of their locked swords, straightening out. She turned away, facing her throne.
“We both know why love. We who are the greatest of the warriors who have ever lived, we deserve all of this.”
“What? Genocide? Killing Kings?”
She turned around her face lit up with a terrifying scarlett fire of passion and rage.
“Yes! Yes!” She laughed wildly. “Immortality, power, bloodshed. It is destiny of us warriors darling. It is our birthright. Didn’t master say it himself?” She bent in closer. “’You two are destined for greatness’?”
He roared in anger, lashing out for the first time. His jab was easily flicked aside with hers. She gracefully parried the next three attacks before leaping backwards, closer to her throne.
“Greatness?” He shouted. “You call this greatness? You are a mass murdering lunatic Ella! A monster!” He took a deep breath before raising his hand in the air. “A monster that I must slay.”
He uttered a quiet incantation before lunging at her once more. His sword shot out sparks of energy on every hit, weakening her with every blow. Her bitter smile turned to a frown, and then an expression of pure rage as she realized that he had every intention of ending this tonight.
She quickened her pace, attempting to push back against his onslaught, but she failed miserably. He feigned a lower jab before twisting his wrist upwards, swatting away her left sword and nicking her waist.
She screamed in frustration. “So is this it dear?” Her voice filled with sardonic love. “Is this where ‘forever and after’ ends? Is this where ‘I’d die for you’ faces its ironic demise?”
He stayed silent, stepping closer for another blow. She sneered and swung at his head.
In an instant he disappeared from her view and reappeared behind her. He held his sword to her neck, disabling her attack.
“No Ella, dearest,” He whispered sadly, “It ended the day you left me for power.”
He turned her around one last time, planting a long kiss on her defiant lips.
“It ended the day you ended another’s life.”
Another lone silver tear trickled down his cheek as he thrust his sword between her ribs, wincing as he heard her shriek out.
“I’m sorry.” He whispered one last time.