EPILOGUE
Mercius was walked into the camp by Keira, covered by a dark cloak that one of his marshals had provided, and which covered him from the tips of his new-begotten wings to his feet. He hung his head as he entered the camp of the Hammer and the Blade, hoping beyond reason that he would escape the eyes of his followers. For the most part, he succeeded, but there were members of the legion that spotted this dark-clad figure being escorted by the marshals, and voiced their questions. Mercius was too torn and beaten to answer their calls, so he simply walked where he was led, head down and silent.
Mercius ended in his tent; the headquarters tent that he had so often resided in; with Nephilia in his arms, and deep sorrow in his heart. With the most reverent care, he laid the angel softly upon the cot in which he usually slept. With an angry wave of his hand, he bade the marshals that had accompanied him to leave. They left without questioning him, except for Keira, who stood stubbornly and willfully in front of him, hands locked to her hips in a gesture of unmoving defiance.
Mercius, however, placed his hands on her shoulders, firmly, and said, “I need to be alone. To sleep. To think. And I know that if you are here with me, I will not do what I must.”
As cryptic as the statement was, Keira saw the truth in Mercius' eyes. She stood on her toes and kissed his cheek silently, then left without a backward glance.
Mercius glanced around the tent, and his eyes locked on the beautiful form of Nephilia, his angel, sleeping like the dead in the only cot the place held. Mercius made no move towards her, simply stared for long moments at the placid woman. Slowly, instinctively, he reached up to run his hand through his hair. There he found no hair, and no flesh. His skull was now bare, as if he were the dead. With a wince, he withdrew his hand, silently cursing his father.
As if his silent wince had been audible, Nephilia stirred in her sleep, emitting an all-too-human moan. She turned, then, and looked directly into his face. He felt flayed and opened by her gaze, but could not turn away. For long moments, they stared at each other, his fire-filled green eyes burning into her golden orbs.
Softly, Nephilia whispered, “You are alive, Mercius. You have suffered the torments of Hell, and you yet live. You must continue your journey and your quest. You must complete your destiny.” She finished, and lay staring deep into Mercius' eyes. He couldn’t break away from that stern and unapologetic gaze, so he returned it, not knowing how to respond.
Locked eye to eye, they remained for several moments. Mercius was confused and hurt and anguished, but had no words for the angel. With unexpected fury, hate boiled up within him. He hated himself. He hated the angel. He hated the fate that had turned his life to ruin and dismay. He hated the world.
With hate in his voice, Mercius scornfully said: “Destiny? What destiny? The destiny of the damned, maybe. I am nothing but a forsaken demon, cursed to roam the world with a heart. What destiny is in store for me but hate and loneliness? What destiny but death and torment? Don’t speak to me of a destiny that doesn’t exist! For me there is nothing but pain and death. Death to myself and all of those who follow me. Death to every last soul who thinks that I am a hero. Death follows me, and death I shall have. That is all. Nothing more. That is my destiny!”
Nephilia watched Mercius with placid interest through his vehement tirade. When he was finished, she said nothing, simply gazed at him with golden eyes. His breathing was coarse and ragged, suggesting the rage that poisoned his veins. But still the angel watched, and said nothing.
Finally, when the Arkarum’s rage abated noticeably, Nephilia rose from her cot. Mercius' surprise was evident upon his face, his jaw slack and his eyes wide. The angel rose smoothly, as if she wasn't at all afflicted by whatever torment had laid her up. Silently and with a force that nearly knocked him from his feet, Nephilia walked towards him.
When they were face to face, barely an inch separating the pair, Nephilia looked squarely into Mercius' eyes and said, ever so softly, “The very fact that you voice such thoughts is proof that you are no demon. You have Asgoroth’s blood in you, yes, but your mother’s blood was pure. As pure as any that has ever lived. You are still Amelia's son; you are still the Mercius that broke free of his father’s clutches and set out to destroy him. You are still the hero that rescued a captured angel from the mountainous depths of Hell. You are still you, but now you face the most difficult choice of all eternity. You must decide what path to walk. That alone, and nothing else, be it appearance or otherwise, dictates what you are. You think that all demons walk the world with fire in their veins and scales for flesh? No, Mercius. There are demons everywhere, as there are angels. It is up to each to decide which they become. Fate has put torment and pain in your path, but it has also left you to choose.
“And what you choose may very well change the course of this beleaguered world.” Nephilia reached up slowly and placed her soft hands on either side of Mercius' face. Head down, he was weeping silently, and his tears streamed over her pale fingers. The angel rose on her toes and kissed his forehead gently, then forced his head up so that she could peer into his eyes once more.
“All those around you await your choice,” she said in the same gentle whisper. “And your destiny awaits you. Find it, Arkarum, and walk the path to whatever end.”
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From the Author
I would like to thank you sincerely for reading this novel. I have put a great deal of my life into it, and I hope you’ve enjoyed the journey as much as I have, painful and arduous as it was at times. It is my intent to continue the journey with two more novels in the Arkarum series, the first of which is already written and nearly ready for your ocular consumption. In the meantime, I welcome any correspondence at the following:
Email:
[email protected] https://www.facebook.com/craig.barnes.1238292
COMING SOON:
ARKARUM: THE WRATH OF HELL
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