( Note: This is actually an off the spot inspiration-sanctioned work for me. I'm thinking about whether I could write a whole 'prior-story' thing to this. but as for now, it stands alone. )
A Tale of Two Souls (Prolly like an epilogue?)
" Say Magnus.. Do you remember when we were kids? There wasn't a care in the world. No war and no bloodshed.. We were so naive, and yet it was how it should've been. "
"Please don't try to bring back those days. Ignorance was only bliss for so long, Kallus."
The two laid on a hill in a battle torn field as the midnight sky shone brightly with the stars of the old age. Bodies, thousands upon thousands of them laid in the meadow below. The flowers- all blood stained and barely standing represented the two males, they were the last ones left.
" But you have to admit.. It was much simpler back then. Our dreams were stoked flames that burned bright, and yet it was all fun and games.. "
A small smile came over the Drow-man's face as his Elvin counterpart laid a meter from his side. He could only respond after a cough-ridden chuckle. " Fun and games, and yet here we are... Where did we go wrong? We were always the best of brothers you and I.. And yet.. "
A dark silence came from the two as their breaths steadied. Their figures were similar, but their skins were so much different. Kallus was as pale as the moon with his High-Elvin blue hair, Magnus was pitch black of skin with dark red eyes to match his own. Both sprawled out beneath the vast nocturne shroud, the portal into the beyond. The time of magic and mystical creatures was at an end.. And no one could argue with fate. These two males were the tools of destiny and yet, they grew up together as though they were blood related.
Kallus broke the silence with his dimmed whimsical Elvin voice, " We have near killed each other and just about all of our people. For what? Was it love, was it pride? What separated us other then our blood, whence our souls were that of kin. "
" I could always read your movements and your emotions easily, " Magnus joined in, his eyes only half open to the cold night sky. Fall was becoming winter and his body gently shook to the whispering winds, the voices of those who have passed just before this sudden peace, this eye of the storm. " But it doesn't matter now. She is dead, our sister is dead and we've... " Magnus coughed up another few ounces of blood as Kallus tried to move his head.
The elf-man wanted to see his brother one last time, as though they truly were so blood related. His eyes of once sky blue were etched in ice cold azure. He could feel the chill of the air taking him slowly as he winced to the sight of Magnus, laying helpless. It made him wonder if Magnus would feel similar now that the war was over. It all seemed so pointless, what did they really fight for? What was it that made them such bitter rivals?
" Aetoia.. Soft and sweet, she could never choose sides could she.. ? We took her in out of the mud when no Drow or Elf would take her in. She was indeed the other part to each of our souls, her cute little face always quelled our--" Kallus wheezed as he attempted to rise. He had used every ounce of strength and spirit in the battle against his own brother, and now he wanted to help him up- to stand with him before the dawn of a new era, one without immortal beings.
Magnus shifted his head towards his soul brother as he saw his shaky lithe form raise. a sudden boost of adrenaline made him try to his feet as well. He was always the stronger one of the two, and he wasn't going to let his brother beat him to standing. Where Kallus lacked physical strength, he made up for it in magical ability and swiftness. Two sides to one coin, two halves to one soul- and yet they were of different color and creed. They were the opposites of one another and yet they were kin.
Both stood gasping for air, aching in anguish- bleeding from their wounds. It wouldn't be long before they'd both fall to the hands of the Goddess, but for that time they stood as best as they could. Aetoia.. Their dear sister seemed to be dancing in the fields between the forest in the mountain like she always did. Her spiritual form entranced the two beings, as her whimsical grace took her through the field of writhing bodies and drowned out lives. Drow and elf, Elf and Drow.. Laid around and atop each other with their life-blood released.
"Aetoia.. I'm.. So sorry. " Kallus wheezed out as he'd fall against his dark-brother. Magnus embraced him and held him up, his sentiments were likewise. " I'm sorry.. Magnus.. I'm feeling.. Bleak. I can't see the mother moon any more.. "
The Drow closed his deep red eyes as he felt the strain already. His body was too tired to hold Kallus for long, but he wouldn't give up. He betrayed his brother and his sister, all for what? A misunderstood yearning for his on kind? An ethnic pride, glory to his skin color? They were all dead now, even his Elven friends and their family. He watched as his troops burned down their homes and destroyed the fruits of their labor. Magnus could hear the echoing of screams, cries for help and anxiety. The shouting of the tortured souls and the writhing of the forestland. It was him holding the sword, the torch.. He could see himself in the place of his 'fellow man' destroying the lives of a people who lived differently.. Who only had slightly different beliefs.
Over jealousy, that the Moon Mother would let them stay above land, and his on people below the Earth. But that jealousy was gone, and so was everything he once cared about.. Including his sister and now the only other person he could truly count on in the end.. His own spirit brother Kallus. Tears started down his glowing red eyes as it suddenly hit him, all the pain and suffering he caused.. and yet it wouldn't matter. Humans would find this field by dawn.. Take what they wanted and leave. Maybe some would care, or even sympathize, yet in the end they'd be forgotten. They'll just become the characters in human stories forever and a day to come.
Yet Kallus wasn't free from blame, even as his eyes would start to fade he couldn't stop thinking back. Words may be words, but they are the facet of communicating meaning. He never meant to be an over dweller by blood. He was orphaned just like Magnus, as such they looked out for each other and then their sister. Aetoia.. Oh how her face echoed inside his mind. How the three used to be so naive and blissfully ignorant. But when Magnus started to grow the traditionalists wanted him to leave and Kallus would hear no such thought of it. He insisted that his brother would stay, and it made things worse. Soon the taunting and scorn became too terrible for Magnus to tolerate, and he lashed out. Lashed out at his own brother and ran away.
The sudden disappointment in his brother turned to wonder, and wonder turned to arrogance.. and that arrogance turned into enmity. He left him and his sister behind- the life they had and all they went through. Alone in a place that barely accepted them any way, and Aetoia was next. The high elders promised that under no circumstances would she be under minded nor abandoned.. Of course this was when Kallus became a high ranking Knight. But that was ancient history now, their people are dead, and Kallus couldn't help but feel weak and responsible. He couldn't scold his own people for their lack of tolerance.. Even when he defended his brother their was a part of him that was weak to his own 'race', and he tried avoiding confrontation all together. But no matter how many times he made his brother walk away.. The elf-man couldn't bring himself to do more. It was on this eve of a new world that he realized his weakness, and regret filled his soul.
The sun was about to rise, the image of Aetoia dancing through the bloodstained fields started to disappear as Kallus became heavy. When his body fell limp Magnus held onto him tightly. With the last ounce of his strength he roared to the Earth Mother as well as the Moon Mother. " Where will it end? We were such much more than mortals yet.. We fell victim to our.. Misunderstandings. " He turned his head towards his brothers limp body against his own and whispered " We weren’t as naive, when we were children.. Never as naive as we have been up until now. My brother you have died, and before I could make my amends.. My chances have been sundered. I'll meet you in Menel (Heaven).. And my sentiments shall be resolves in our eternal rest. May the Earth Mother, and the Moon Mother have mercy of the souls of the mortal age.. and may our mistakes never be.. Repeated..." His sight ent black then, and he tried to prop his brother against the nearby tree on the hill. They both fell dead, loss of blood and spiritual energy had taken them from under their feet.
And so the dawn arose, their bodies collapsed against a giant oak, the blood of Drow and Elf alike nourishing the ground below. Who's to say if history will repeat itself, their story will never be told. But even if it can never be repeated by the mouths of mortals, its quaking presence lingers still. Every time we look to the Moon, and feel the wrath of the Earth. It reminds us of our place in the world, and our lost humility towards everything which deserves respect. The sun rises over the mountains, and so the new age begins.