James West - Crown of the Setting Sun

Back the way they had come, a thundering shriek crushed the night’s calm. All eyes turned to find a living shadow blotting out the stars above the rugged hill guarding the Sanctuary. The creature winged higher, wheeling, searching.

Zera , Leitos thought. Even after seeing her change, he could scarcely believe she was not human. She would spy them soon, and moments after that she would be upon them, destroying the brothers with the same contemptuous hatred for humankind as that shared by all Alon’mahk’lar . Once finished with Ba’Sel and his men, she would take and use him for whatever purpose she intended.

Her cry came again, filling the night. In answer, Alon’mahk’lar horns trilled far off, from all quarters save the sea.

“Whether we flee or fight, it must be decided now,” Ulmek announced, his fierce stare proclaiming what he thought was the right course.

“Some must stay behind,” Ba’Sel said in a pained voice, “in order that the rest can reach the boats and sail for the Singing Islands.”

Before he finished, a score of men had broken ranks in the defensive line. They looked on their leader with unflinching eyes. As word quietly spread, others joined the first brothers to volunteer, until none stood apart.

“I could have wished all of you would have cast down his weapons and fled,” Ba’Sel said. “That you have not leaves the choice to me.” He took a deep breath and called by name a dozen of the best archers, and did the same until an equal number of the finest swordsmen joined the first group.

“He is mine,” Leitos heard Zera say again. “Grow strong and cruel,” the voice of Adham whispered.

“I share your fear, but let none of us despair your sacrifice,” Ba’Sel was saying, voice wavering with emotion. “You will not be forgotten, my brothers.”

He might have said more, but Leitos did not hear. By then, he was running back the way they had come. Someone tried to grab him, but he dodged and kept on. Terror coursed through his veins, not courage. What drove him was guilt for allowing Zera to use him to find the Brothers of the Crimson Shield. He would not let them be annihilated for his mistake.

Zera came, a winged nightmare falling from the sky, scattering those brothers who had given chase. Leitos steeled himself against whatever might befall him. Misty talons gently clasped his shoulders, and Zera carried him high, the wind of her wings buffeting him. As the world fell away from his dangling feet, his stomach knotted and rolled before relaxing. In that moment he knew a freedom he could never hope to describe.

Behind him, the brothers called out as they gave chase, their voices growing smaller and smaller, until they were no more. Leitos hung limp, eyes squinted against the wind, watching as the world spread wide beneath his feet. The shield of sandstone over which he and the brothers had run looked like stairs from on high. Farther north, a dozen separate bands of Alon’mahk’lar searched for their prey. To the east, the Mountains of Fire thrust upward, daggers of rock scrawled with veins of glowing crimson. In the west, the direction Zera took him, the scrubby desert ended at an irregular line of smooth dunes, frozen waves of white sand.

The sensation of flying and seeing the world in such an exciting way was nearly all-consuming, but one thought dominated: The Brothers of the Crimson Shield would escape, if they kept on toward the sea. The Alon’mahk’lar bands were disorganized and spread too thin to catch them.

Sooner than he wanted, Zera descended to a low dune of pure white sand, and gently set his feet back where they belonged. Once released, she flew a few paces and landed gracefully. As she turned, her misty shape, the embodiment of a shadowy dream, quickly shrank and solidified. He saw before him the face he knew well. Her eyes shone with the same green, bottomless radiance as ever. A shy smile quirked her lips, as if she had not just revealed a monstrous secret, but a wondrous gift. He stared open-mouthed, trying to understand.

“I could not tell you before,” she said, sounding abashed.

“Ba’Sel said you were like a daughter to him.” As he spoke, misery and rage filled him up. “Did you betray him as easily as you did me?”

“Do you not see?” Zera countered, holding her hands out to him. “I did it for you … for us … for what we share. It pains me more than you can ever know to have deceived Ba’Sel. For you and your love , I not only turned against him, I turned on my own kind.”

She drifted closer as she spoke, until stood before him. Leitos looked into her eyes, felt himself falling into them, into her. Madness , he thought, even as their lips met, tentatively at first, then with passion. In that moment, he nearly forgot all that had happened from the time he fled the mines to now … nearly .

He broke away from her with a strangled cry. “ Alon’mahk’lar, Mahk’lar, Na’mihn’teghul, ” he said angrily. “Whatever you call yourself, you are demon-born-and demons love only the slaughter!”

“Even I believed that … until I met you,” Zera said softly, trying to take him in her arms again.

Leitos jerked away. The sorrow in her eyes fell on him like a hammer blow, but he refused to surrender to his remorse. He wrapped himself in disgust and outrage. She was the progeny of the Fallen, born of atrocities. Her demonic race, under the reign of the Faceless One, had subjugated him, his people, all humankind, reduced them to animals with only despair and death to wish upon.

“I am sorry, Leitos,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes. “You must believe me.”

He had never seen her weep. Though it pained him further, he felt sure it was a trick conjured in the blackest chambers of her mind. “As am I,” he answered heavily. The trusting part of him did not want to believe that the woman before him was the very face of evil. Unspeakable grief soured his tongue, filled his soul with emptiness. “How could you have possibly believed, knowing what you are and what I am, that we could ever be more than enemies?”

“We do not have to be pitted against each other,” Zera said. “You and I, the love we share, the first of its kind, can bridge the gap between the children of the Fallen and humankind. Please, Leitos, I am willing to try, if you are….”

Despite his anger and sadness, he wanted with all his heart to escape with her, to live out their lives away from the reach of the Faceless One, and even his own kind. But it would be easier for the air he breathed and the sand he trod underfoot to become one and the same, than for them to shape any kind of life together.

“I can take us away,” Zera said in a desperate rush, as if she sensed the turning of his mind. “We can build a new creation … a blending of the best parts of each of our kind. One day our children can stand against those who oppose us now.”

“Those who oppose us? ” Leitos said, stunned by her willful blindness. “The Faceless One and his allies stand against humanity. They have hunted my kind until only a few remain, and those living few are chained, made into starving, hopeless beasts for no other reason than that we exist. The best of your kind have ground to dust the bones of a hundred different peoples. Other than our existence, Zera, what have men done to oppose your kind?”

“Given the freedom to reap the slaughter, humankind would kill and destroy as eagerly as have the Alon’mahk’lar ,” Zera protested.

Leitos shook his head in dismay. “Even a rat will gnaw the stick jammed against its throat in the hope of holding to its life, but that does not mean it is at fault. No less can be expected from any living creature, including humans. After suffering for three lifetimes of men, can you expect anything other than a spirit of vengeance to have grown within the hearts of my people? We did not ask to be conquered, we did not grovel at the feet of the Faceless One for the chance to be bound in chains the whole of our lives.” When he continued, his words rolled into the night, propelled by the force of his shouts.