Unredeemed

[Elwen]

Unredeemed

 

 

*This is another Shade and Elanor story, sequel to “Endings”. However, it is NOT in the style of The Mirror: Endings, though it does show the actual events foretold in “Endings”.*

 

Goodbye, darling…

 

Elanor Starflower moved on silent Elven feet through the apartment. Quietly, she murmured a powerful spell-this particular spell, which was a combination of two other “standard” enchantments, had been one of the many spells she had discovered/invented in her time as a Keeper-in-training, all those years ago-under her breath, as she stopped near the small figure who was sprawled on the couch.

 

“Forgive me, Shade.” The Elven sorceress’s voice was sad and musical in the silent room, as she reached down with delicate hands to unhook the bandolier which rested over his slender chest. Shade spasmed, mouth open in a silent scream, as she freed the focus of his power. However, despite the massive pain he was in, he was still caught in frozen sleep, his body resting though his mind was still aware, because of her enchantment. “It will only be for a short time…you’ll have your bells back, soon enough.” She whispered to him as she buckled the bandolier around her own chest.

 

Elanor knew that her own necromantic tools, her set of bells, were not properly attuned to her: she did not have the same rapport with each bell, her bond was uneven. This was the reason she had taken Shade’s: she could tap into his own attunement, since they were linked as Watcher and Messenger, Keeper and Guardian: he was equally attuned to each of the nine bells, and she needed that equality, in this battle. The bell that she, personally, had the best rapport with was Astarael, the Weeper, the Sorrowful: it was also the one that, when rung, took everyone who heard deep into Death-with no return, the final death of the soul as opposed to the death of the body that Oriael, the Destroyer, brought. To anyone else, her very deep connection with Astarael was a grave omen, and they would not understand: Elanor knew why the bell had chosen her.

 

There was a side to her personality that very few had seen-most people saw the bright-eyed, cheerful Elanor Starflower, not the avenging angel. Only a few had seen what she had truly been capable of: her best friend Miniual, for one: Shade, for another, though he had seen that side after it had been tempered by the passage of many years. Miniual had seen her fury undimmed, had watched her take the risks that should have gotten her killed, for her vengeance upon those who had destroyed her life.

 

Her home plane of Nerrenia held the origin of the Astarael aspect of her personality. Her people had been engaged in a life-and-death struggle, a war that had gone on since before many could remember, with the Dark One. A war that the Elves were barely managing to hold on in, barely managing to survive, though since becoming the Watcher, she could put more pressure on the Dark One directly. As a result, the tide had gradually shifted, until her people began to know some days of peace. A guarded peace, a watchful peace, but a peace nonetheless, a peace in which children could grow up without having to fear.

 

Much too late for her, though. It was much too late for her, Elanor knew, and it had always been too late for her.

 

Creatures of the Dark One had killed her family, her father, mother, and baby sister. Elanor had been the only one who had survived-and she had turned her fury both outward and inward. She had become a scout, partnering with Miniual. The two ranged far afield, trying to wipe as much Shadowspawn off the face of the earth as they could.

 

But it was Elanor who took the most grievous risks, much to Miniual’s displeasure. She would often ride far outside the borders, further even then they went while they were together, without armor, without distance weapons-even though she was a talented archer!-and without a companion, without even the faithful, loyal Miniual, who she had to sneak away from in order to go on these expeditions, with only the protection afforded her by a fast horse, a light sword, and the magic she had been able to draw from the land, even without training. Elanor’s wrath was unceasing, and she took risks that should have gotten her killed-indeed, she meant to get herself killed, but not without pouring every drop of her blood into destroying her enemy.

 

Her Keeper’s training, once she had been identified as one of the rare sorceresses with the power to hold back the Shadow, had pushed that self-destructive side of her deep within, and while Elanor burned always with anger, she had found herself able to feel joy, and to not need to destroy herself along with her enemy, as she would have done if she had continued on her path. When she had become the Watcher of the Light Most High, she had buried that anger deep within. She was already close enough to the shadows-anger of the sort that she had borne would carry her over the edge, would destroy her.

 

Elanor knew that she should let go of her anger. But she, despite her knowledge, never could let go. It had sustained her all those dark years-and even though she had no longer needed it, she never could have let it go. And now…it had come back to haunt her.

 

Her rage had come out again, at Miniual’s death at the hands of Belial, and everything that had happened since. She had become a necromancer, embraced a power utterly alien to her nature, in order to shield Shade from any further harm, even though she knew that he would never forgive her. And now, with this latest betrayal of the one she still, even after everything, loved, Elanor knew that whatever they once had was gone. If she, by some miracle, lived through this, Elanor knew that she would have to release Shade, and fully expected him to kill her himself.

 

It was a beautiful thing, Elanor knew, to be killed by the one who you loved and who loved you the most. Most people did not get that grace.

 

“I love you.” Elanor whispered, knowing it would be the last time she would ever speak the words. The infinite possibilities she had spoken of once, long ago, lying in the long, green grass with Miniual and Shade, staring up at the deep green trees and the blue sky that curved overhead, had narrowed. There was only one path now, and she must walk it, alone. Miniual was gone and Shade could not help her-and he wouldn’t, now, even if he could. She had made sure of that. “Goodbye, darling.”

 

Elanor wanted to kiss him, but she would not taint him with her own darkness. He didn’t need any more, he had enough of his own.

 

She held a slender hand out, palm facing upward, and her white staff appeared, falling into her hand. Elanor closed her fingers about it, grimly smiling, as she turned and left the apartment, closing the door behind her.

 

***

Goodbye, darling…

 

Through the pain, Shade could still hear Elanor’s soft farewell. Anger blazed through him, white-hot and burning-what the hell was that Elf doing?!

 

Look into my mirror, one last time…

 

With the memory of Elanor’s mentor’s words echoing through his head, Shade would have paled if he had any color in his skin, as images of what he had seen in the mirror, images of his future and Elanor’s-Elanor’s in particular- rushed before his eyes, in a chorus of voices, his and hers and Elanor’s.

 

You have the gift of foresight! Tell me what you have seen! Now!

 

She is not coming back. There is nothing for you here. Only death. Why do you hold her here?

 

She stays because she has hope!

 

She stays for you! Let her go. Life and Death do not belong together.

 

She chose me!

 

It is better this way. Let her go, before her soul goes bitter and cold. Let her go, while your love is still bright, and she can treasure it for an eternity.

 

You are of Life. I am of Death. Never shall the twain meet. It was a beautiful dream…but it was a dream, Elanor.

 

Goodbye, darling…

 

Bound in invisible chains, Shade mentally cursed, knowing as he did what Elanor was about to do.

 

//Damn you, Elanor! Damn you!//

 

***

 

Elanor unsheathed the slender Elven-forged sword she wore at her waist and began tracing a circle on the pavement, scratching the arcane runes of power into the sidewalk. The sorceress sent tendrils of her power tracing outward, testing the boundaries of the circle, and the invisible hemisphere that stretched over her head. Satisfied that no stray spell-or even sound- would break through her barrier, she sheathed her sword, and stretching her hands forth, began to chant in an arcane tongue, the High Speech, language of power from before remembrance and from before even the beginnings of time.

 

The Rite of Challenge. The way it had to be.

 

In moments, a dark mist spun itself out of air, and formed itself into a tall, handsome man with dark hair and dark eyes, towering over Elanor.

 

Belial, one of the many deities of darkness in all the worlds, and one of the most powerful: he was devoted especially to the darker side of lust, and to cruelty and pain.

 

His eyebrow went up in mild surprise, but the god made no reply.

 

“Who are you?” Belial asked. A challenger had to identify who they were, though Belial knew who she was: after all, he had attempted to win her over, in an attempt to have the Watcher rule by his side, as his dark queen. An offer Elanor had spurned. Many times over.

 

“Who? Who am I? I am the Watcher of the Light Most High. I watch the Dark from the shadows.” Elanor said coolly, holding her staff tightly.

 

“Do not get involved in things that do not concern you.” Belial replied heatedly.

 

“If it concerns my Messenger, then it concerns me.” Elanor said simply. Shade, Belial’s cousin…her necromancer of a Guardian/Messenger had once been the Balancer, a deity: he had chosen to Fall, and had forgotten much in Falling. The man who both of them, in their own way, loved: Elanor for what he was and what she saw in him that others did not, and Belial…who the hell knew? It was beyond certain that the twisted deity held the same emotion for Shade that he did for Elanor herself: a twisted, possessive love, hunter for his prey.

 

Elanor was not happy about that.

 

“Do you have any idea who I am?” Belial asked unnecessarily.

 

“I do. But the only way you will get to him is through me.” Elanor said, raising her staff and shifting into a defensive stance.

 

Closing her eyes, she released the spell on Shade. She would need every ounce of power she could summon in this final battle.

 

Her last.

 

There would be no turning back.

 

***

 

Shade felt the spell release, and despite the fact he was nearly blinded with pain, he managed to climb to his feet and stumble out of his apartment.

 

“Are you OK?” a familiar baritone voice asked, a hand reaching out and steadying him.

 

Kurosaki Hikaru.

 

“Just peachy.” Shade snapped sarcastically. “I had my bells taken by my fiancée/boss, who is out trying to get herself killed fighting a certain evil deity, my less-than-dear cousin, who we both know *quite* intimately. I’m on my way to get back my bells and somehow prevent her from getting killed. That way, I can kill her myself.”

 

The elementalist immediately looked anxious. “Need a hand? I’m sure that I can get the twins-“

 

“No.” Shade said curtly. “Save your strength. There’s more to come.”

 

Hikaru nodded, green eyes dark and turned inward, reflecting. “May the Lady be with you both.” He finally said.

 

Shade made no reply, but limped towards the stairs. Hikaru grabbed his wrist and lifting him slightly with flows of Air, hauled him towards the elevator.

 

“What are you doing? I don’t know how to-“ Shade began. Hikaru jabbed the call button and pulled Shade with him into the elevator when it arrived.

 

“Wait! Wait!” a man in a business suit came running down the hall. Instead of holding the elevator as he normally would have done, Hikaru pressed the ‘Door Close’ button, and when the doors closed, hit the button for the ground floor.

 

Once the two were out, Hikaru wrapped a more complex weave of Air elemental magic about Shade, to keep his feet enough above the ground so that his limp was nullified.

 

“That should hold until you find Miss Elanor.” Hikaru said. This grim-edged attitude was one that he had recently adopted-but Hikaru had been trapped in the darkness so long, there would be no going back to the light he had previously known. He was lucky that he was not completely insane-Belial could make anyone insane-but he would never be the same.

 

Shade made no reply, but turned and hurried out the door.

***

Elanor landed with a thump, ankle twisted at an odd angle beneath her, and cursed in a particularly old, very dead language: the people who had once spoken it had been killed off, to the last babe in their mother’s arms, when their island had been sunk by a volcanic eruption. Elanor made a hobby out of cursing in various dead languages, and had gone through most of her considerable repertoire-she was a linguist, like Shade, but the way this challenge was going…-thus far.

 

Damn! Elanor cursed mentally, realizing that her ankle was probably broken, at the very least badly sprained: she wasn’t going to be able to move far like that.

 

There was only one way out now.

 

“Give up.” Elanor looked up at the sound of the rich bass voice. “I don’t want to kill you, Watcher. But you can’t win.”

 

“Never.” Elanor hissed from between clenched teeth as she used her staff to lever herself back to her feet, deftly weaving Air magic to keep her weight off her injured left ankle. “Surrender to the likes of you? I’d die first!”

 

A delicate hand reached down, to the bandolier that hung on her chest, stolen from her Guardian. I knew when I became a necromancer that it would end like this. Shade, forgive me.

 

Slowly, she gripped the largest bell, made of cold iron, the size of a small jar, and drew it forth, careful to keep it silent lest it ring before she was ready.

 

Astarael, the sorrowful bell of iron, who takes all who hear her song into Death-even gods. She sings a duet with my soul, and I have to do what I have to do. I was never good at necromancy, even if I was a binder like you, being an Elf and all and not born to the gift. But I have the skill to do this. Goodbye, Shade.

 

Belial’s eyes widened in realization and dawning horror-but Elanor’s circle had trapped him as much as it had trapped her. Neither of them could escape-and no stray sound would escape. She would kill no one else.

 

“You ARE mad, Watcher!” Belial roared in sudden fear-for he saw the long-hidden anger in her eyes, and the madness that her fury drove her to.

 

“Not as mad as you, Belial. You hurt my Guardian…and now you will pay.” Elanor said coldly.

 

She released her staff, and it fell at her feet, brief thread of bell-like music echoing as it hit the ground with sickening finality.

 

Goodbye, darling.

 

Elanor held Astarael out, both her slender hands, hands of a sorceress, hands of a healer, hands of an archer, of a swordswoman, hands of the Watcher of the Light Most High, clutching the bell’s handle in the grip of a trusted, close friend.

 

Ignoring the pain in her hurt ankle, she spun, long white skirt and white cloak swirling about her as she danced, bringing Astarael around with her.

 

And she welcomed her song, with all her heart, even as Astarael called her into Death.

 

Finally, Elanor Starflower had come home.

***

Shade had never run so fast in his life, hampered by his limp as he was: however, since Hikaru’s spell had brought him off the ground, he didn’t exactly have the problem to contend with-and he suspected that the Elemental Adept had cast a spell for greater speed on him, a spell that was a combination of Wind and Water. It would hold for a while, anyway, whatever it was.

 

He skidded around the corner-even though he wasn’t on the ground, the natural laws of physics still applied, and he was moving too fast while trying to take the turn-and his mouth fell open.

 

Elanor’s circle glowed in the middle of the street-and from the absence of sound, she had cast a spell to keep all noise in. But why?

 

Shade hit the ground with a ‘thump’ and crumpled to his knees as the spell gave out.

 

But he didn’t care that he was kneeling in the middle of the street, as his eyes were riveted to the sight in front of him.

 

Elanor danced, obviously favoring her left ankle, and he saw the bell in her hands with dawning horror. Astarael. She had warded all sound in for that very reason…so that no one but her and Belial could hear the sound of the dark bell that brought all who heard her into Death.

 

Shade desperately launched himself forward and bounced backward off Elanor’s warding spell. Obviously, she had counted on her stubborn Guardian trying to come to her aid.

 

Elanor continued to dance, the sun turning her golden hair to a lambent halo that framed her lovely face. She was as beautiful as ever.

 

So young and beautiful and brave-

 

And completely without hope, Shade recognized. For if Elanor had had hope, why the hell would she have done this?!

 

“Damn you, Elanor! Damn you! DAMN YOU!” he shouted, not knowing if he could hear her. “We may never have been equals, but we sure as hell were friends, lovers, whatever…why the hell do you have to go and do this?!”

 

Elanor spun again, and looked directly at him, a smile on her face, before continuing to dance. Spellbound by power, guided by anger, touched by sorrow, there was no way she could stop. Not now. Not ever.

 

If she ever could have.

 

Elanor danced, and would not stop. Not even as her spirit began to release its hold on Life. Not even as her life-force drained away. She would not stop. She danced as if she was possessed.

 

Maybe she was. In her madness, Shade was and never would be sure.

 

Shade refused to look away. Not for a single moment. He saw when Belial finally succumbed and was dragged into Death forever.

 

Something in him…just broke, and he was alone in his mind. Alone like he had never been since he had become Elanor’s Guardian…even when she had “died”, the bond hadn’t remained broken…it had merely transcended what had come before, been twisted and reborn in a new shape, Watcher and Messenger.

 

But this time, there was no doubt. Elanor was gone.

 

Elanor’s circle finally came down, without its caster able to power it, and Shade scrambled forward, as Astarael fell silently to the ground, tumbling from the Elven woman’s nerveless fingers. His permanently bad ankle hurt like hell, but Elanor was what mattered now. He caught her as she fell, and she was limp in his arms, passive as she never was, with her long, silky golden hair cascading all over his chest.

 

He had held her so many times before, despite himself.

 

For her. Because she had asked it of him…asked him simply to hold her, nothing more.

 

Elanor turned laughing blue-green eyes up at him, and leaned her head against his chest.

 

“You’re so stiff. Goddess Above, can’t you ever relax?”

 

“No.” Shade said stiffly. Elanor laughed, the sound musical bells, sweeter than even Ranna, the Sleeper, and she closed her eyes.

 

When she opened them again, no trace of laughter had vanished from their sparkling depths.

 

“From the way you’re acting, I’m going to bite your head off at any second. I don’t eat people for snacks.” Elanor said dryly, and jerked her head. “Do you see Miniual?”

 

Shade looked where she was indicating. “No.” he said shortly, not liking to admit that he couldn’t see as far as an Elf, especially at night.

 

“She’s over there, with her bow pointed straight at you. And she never misses.” Elanor said, grinning foolishly, as she raised a slender arm and pointed to where her best friend was.

 

“And the point of telling me this was?” Shade asked.

 

“She’ll shoot you if she even has the slightest inclination that you’re taking advantage of me. Like putting your hand in places it doesn’t belong. Miniual is very possessive, and very protective.”

 

Shade had the unpleasant feeling that he was blushing, and was very glad for the cover of night to hide the color, though he was sure that the Elves could see color in the dark.

 

To cover it up, he snapped curtly, “And why the hell would I ever want to do that? Not interested. You can go tell Miniual that your virtue is *quite* safe from me.”

 

Elanor smiled up at him mischievously, and wiggled a bit. “Who says that *yours* is safe from me? You’re not the only one who can take advantage.”

 

“Get off me, woman!” Shade snapped, giving her a good shove. Elanor landed in a heap at his feet, and an arrow embedded itself in the bark beside his head. He gave Elanor a flat stare. “You said she never missed.”

 

“That was a warning shot. Don’t do that again, was what she said.” Elanor said with a smirk, climbing to her feet gracefully. “Next time, it’s your head.”

 

Shade groaned.

 

Reluctantly, he unbuckled the bandolier and pulled it free of Elanor, to buckle it back on himself. Immediately, his physical pain was almost all gone.

 

He moved, pulling Elanor with him, until he could grasp Astarael. Carefully, he lifted the bell and replaced her in the bandolier, making sure no stray note escaped.

 

But as he touched the handle, he felt something…a familiar presence, singing within the cold iron, singing with the spirit of Astarael.

 

My soul sings a duet with Astarael, now…don’t be sad, Shade. My soul will be with you forever. Can you feel me, with you still, fused as my soul is with your Astarael? I took your bells at the end, Shade. Forgive me. I love you…I’m sorry it had to be this way. But you’re safe now, and free.

 

Her deep connection with the final bell…Astarael had called her back from Death, and now both women, both Adepts, sang in the bell of iron and the death of the soul. Elanor would truly never leave him, now…she would Watch from within Astarael. Maybe even cast a spell through him.

 

But she would never live again. That bright spirit, forever trapped in the darkest of necromantic bells, until the ending of all the worlds-Shade couldn’t bear to think about it.

 

Goodbye, darling.

 

Shade wanted to cry, soul-deep loss cutting through him. Elanor wasn’t the first lover he had lost-Minamino Adunial had been the first, and both deaths could have been prevented, if he had been faster, if he had been there-but all he had been able to do was watch them die.

 

Shade had never cried, as far as he knew-never wanted to, and only once before had cared enough to even try. And now, when he wanted to, for the sake of a woman who at least deserved them, the tears wouldn’t come. Like with Adunial, he simply couldn’t cry for Elanor.

 

For he had forgotten how to cry.

 

Shade stared blankly at the ground, where Elanor’s staff still lay. The staff of the Watcher.

 

The staff she no longer would have hands to wield.

 

Slowly, he reached out a hand-

 

And the staff fell into his palm.

 

His senses registered the presence of several very powerful mages nearby.

 

A slender hand reached out-

 

Shade struck out blindly, through his grief and rage, and Elanor’s staff-he couldn’t think of it as his own, though it obviously now belonged to him- barely missed.

 

“Stay away from her!” he shouted, seeing the long, pale blue hair that framed an emotionless face. “Stay away from her!”

 

Aki Kamiya, the incarnation of yin. The feminine power of cold, darkness, and death. The teenager stepped back, long black trenchcoat following his motion.

 

“Maybe I can do something-“ Akiko began. The older twin stepped around her brother-the hands of yang were the hands of a healer, unlike the hands of yin, who simply brought death. Akiko was her brother’s opposite, the incarnation of yang. The male power of warmth, light, and life.

 

“No. She’s gone.” Shade said. Somewhere Between, neither in Life or in Death, not beyond the Ninth Gate… “And there’s nothing anyone can do for her.”

 

The battle-horn for the final battle has been sounded…

 

Shade stared into the eyes of his three companions. Aki was impassive, Akiko looked sad, and Hikaru was…sympathetic?

 

“We have work to do.” Shade said coldly. The Fifth Circle had to close, and the twins fulfill their destiny as yin and yang: but first, they had to face Kurosaki Nova, Hikaru’s older sister. The Betrayer of Hope-she had sold her brother in exchange for Ascension.

 

//Elanor…this is for you.//

 

It had been Nova who had summoned Belial into this world, and given him his price. It had been Nova who ultimately bore the responsibility for Elanor’s death, and Miniual’s…

 

What will you do now, Shade?

 

Shade smiled grimly, and it was amazing how much he resembled Elanor in her shadow-madness at that moment.

 

“We fight.”

 

~Owari~

Edited January 4, 2004 by Elwen

[Damon Inferel]

Sorry about all that... It took me forever to find some time... That, and I'm kind of lazy, but this story did not disappoint me, and in fact it was rather enrapturing... (Though what of yours hasn't been?)

 

In any case, it sort of gave me a slightly mixed Aragorn/Arwen type thing somewhere in the middle of the story, but Elanor wasn't the god-like-undying-superhuman-living-forever-type-guy... errr... girl. The use of bells was rather unique, since I hadn't really remembered about the whole death toll.

 

You had a minor inconsistency in the story about when Shade caught Elanor. You neglected to mention that the protection spell ended, but I don't think it's that big of a deal. Just being an honest critic.

 

I don't kow how Elanor lived a little while after the bell tolled and the dance was completed either, but it was an... interesting conversation between them.

 

While reading i, I got a small sense of Yusuke's fortune and thought it would have been funny. There was some asphalt in her ear or something and she didn't hear the bell, but hey, angst doesn't leave too much room for stuff like that.

 

Overall, a very good and lengthy (i'm slow) story. One hell of a grudge that lady had, but if somebody murdered your family, I don't doubt you'd hold that for a while too.