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(It has come.)
FINAL CHAPTER
Telamon stared, his mouth agape. It took his mind multiple moments to figure out what had happened. At first, he had thought that the sound was from a stray shot. No, he had hoped that the sound was from a stray shot.
He knew exactly what he had just done.
Our hero looked up, his eyes widened. He didn’t understand. He didn’t get it. “I… I…” He mumbled, his eyes beginning to slowly scroll downwards to what that ‘thing had done’.
In his chest, in the area directly above his heart, was a small wound that the poisonous dart of the miniature crossbow had made. Telamon shuddered, the cold feeling leaving his body. He looked down at the assassin’s weapon on his arm. It was missing the ammunition. “Gods no.” He whispered.
In a moment, he sprang to life, jumping to the side of the boy. “Wh…Why?” Our Hero asked, his voice cracking. The poison was acting fast. He already began to feel weak, as his legs lost feeling. He cringed as Telamon jumped to him. It would only be a moment before he was finished in a foul swoop… But death did not come. He opened his eyes and looked into those of his assailant. His face was red.
“Oh gods, why… I…” Telamon said, as he shook his head and looked over the wound. Even a fair nick would have likely meant fast death. The poison was to work in under an hour. With it this close to the heart of the victim, it would likely work in only minutes.
“Y…You monster! I thought that you…” Our hero coughed. “That you had some sort of… Soul! You… Why?!” He screamed, but his voice was dull from oncoming weakness. “I DIDN’T MEAN TO DO IT! I COULDN’T CONTROL IT!” Telamon screamed, directly into the face of the child in front of him. “THAT… THAT THING! IT MADE ME!” He pointed a finger at the eye. It was unmoving.
“I… I don’t understand.” Our hero mumbled, his eyes beginning to close. Telamon shook our hero. “Please... I’m sorry… I didn’t want to do this.” Telamon said, trying to keep from breaking down himself.
There was silence for quite some time as the ground outside began to part. Rubble from the castle fell around the two , the victim fading, the killer realizing his woes for the first time.
Our hero, regaining consciousness to the sounds of Telamon sobbing, slowly turned his head to meet him. Telamon raised his. “I’m so sorry.” Telamon whispered, his brown eyes welling with tears. “Your family… Your… Parents… They would be so proud of you, brave warrior.” He choked out. The last part was almost illegible.
Our hero let out a sigh. His hand opened up, and Telamon grabbed it. He was ice cold. “You know…” Our hero muttered, his eyes fluttering. “I think… I think yours would be, too.” And with that, his eyes fell closed
They did not open back up.
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Telamon stared for a moment. He squeezed the boy’s hand, hanging his head low. He had won the war. He had, in fact, he had completely squashed the enemy. They would likely all be consumed outside, even if they did get away from the collapsing tomb of the Scourge. Telamon himself would be immortalized in the new world… As a hero.
Hero.
A light hiss from behind somehow broke through the carnage. He lethargically turned his head, staring down at the blood-words being engraved in the ground. “We have won.” The words said. Telamon didn’t respond. He slowly got up. “Why do you feel emotion? You are successful.” The words shifted.
“Because I don’t want this anymore.” Telamon said, staring at the glass eye in the corner of the room. It stared back at him. The room suddenly began to darken. “You will be immortalized forever. You have saved our world. You have purged it of imperfection.” The words shifted again. He could swear that… something was whispering them. “Imperfection… This Is what you call imperfection?” Telamon asked, looking down.
“This isn’t what I want anymore. I was told that I would help the world. You’re going to kill it.” Telamon mumbled. “I DO NOT CARE WHAT YOU WANT.” That whispering voice said, now booming and obviously audible. “YOU HAVE BROUGHT THIS ALL UPON YOURSELF AND YOU HAVE PROVEN THAT YOU WISH FOR NONE TO BE SPARED FROM THE PURGING.”
“But… Why did I want that? I… I wanted greatness… Redemption… Good. This is not… Good. This is evil. This is nothing but evil.” Telamon said, his voice raising a bit. “THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS EVIL. THERE ARE ONLY CONFLICTING SIDES.”
Telamon was silenced by his own words. It was true, this is exactly what he wanted. His wish was granted. “MY MORTAL PRESENCE IS SHEDDING, IT SHALL SOON BRING UPON MY TRUE FORM. YOU WILL BE GIVEN A MERCIFUL DEATH. THE REST OF THE WORLD SHALL DIE IN THE ONCOMING DARKNESS.” The booming voice said. It echoed multiple times through the castle. Telamon sat and sulked.
He paused. The whispers were unbearable.
And then he began to walk to the corner.
The eye stared at him. It was shaking greatly; the dark magic’s held inside of it were impossible to keep inside for too long. Soon, they would break open. Telamon began to hear hundreds of whispers as his sanity fled his body. His mind would eventually break from the unstable horror that surrounded him; his ‘merciful’ death. Perhaps it had already happened.
Telamon walked faster.
“HOLD ME HIGH TO THE SKY. BRING ME TO POWER. RELEASE ME.” The voice boomed, louder. Telamon walked up to the eye. He picked it up. His Hands began to burn as he touched it. It was flaming hot.
“THE PAIN IS YOUR WEAKNESS. BYPASS IT. AWAKEN ME.” The voice boomed, again. Telamon staggered to the middle of the room, the only area where a beam of sunlight was shining. “RELEASE ME.” The voice boomed.
Telamon looked down at the eye in his hands. His skin was peeling away; however, he did not feel a thing anymore. The voices screamed at him, louder. The eye began to let off a dark purple aura. He rolled it around in his hands a moment. He slowly formed a smile.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING? AWAKEN ME.” The voice screamed at him. His head pounded. “I… I’m making my mother proud.”
He threw the eye on the ground in one quick flick of the wrist. On impact with the ground, it immediately shattered.
“Tell me the story again, mommy.” The young boy asked. His mother smiled at him. “Come up in bed with me.” She said, her voice cheery and smooth. The little boy stuck his leg up the side of the bed. After a few grunts and a moment of struggling, he rolled up.
“Ok, son, it’s time for the story of the Lonely Child.” She said, making the sad face she always did when she started the story. The little boy gave a worried look. His mother laughed and rubbed his head to show him that everything was ok, just like it always was.
“Once upon a time…” His mother started, her beginning always bringing a twinkle to her son’s eyes. “There was a little boy. He was very… Very young… And he was all alone… and sad.” She said. “What happened to the little boy, mommy?” The child asked, his face becoming worried again. “I’ll tell you, don’t worry.
She continued on with the story. “Nobody knew who the little boy’s parents were. He was all alone, and sad. Nobody wanted to have him. He was just a little baby; he was too young to live on his own. And then… A very kind young lady found him.” She said. The little boy scooted a bit closer. “When she found the little boy, he was all alone and sad, sitting in the rain in a tiny basket. He was crying, but no one was paying attention to him. Except for the kind lady.” She sighed. “The young lady was very angry that the little boy was all alone. So… She decided to pick him up.” She was about to say the next verse when her son interrupted her.
“Mommy, why is your belly so big?” He asked. “Well, that’s because I’m going to have a baby. You just asked that yesterday.” She responded, laughing. “Is my baby brother going to be nice to me?” The child asked, his eyes twinkling at this (supposedly) newfound discovery. “Yes, Telly, I promise. I, Baby, you and Daddy are all going to love eachother.”
She continued the story.
“The young lady didn’t know much about raising a baby, but she decided to help him anyways. There was a big problem… The young lady was special.” She was once again interrupted. “Special like Marco the old man that lives outside the gates?” The little boy asked. “No, honey, Marco is special in a… different way. Did you remember to give Marco some fruit today? The guards are so mean to him, and we don’t want him to get sick.” She asked. The child nodded.
“…And the young girl decided to take the little boy into her home. Her husband didn’t appreciate it.” She said. She paused for a moment at this, but continued before the child could complain. “But, she had learned to love the little boy… And she was going to take care of him forever.” She explained.
“Mommy, was the little boy special, too?” The child asked, a smile covering his face. “Oh, yes he was. You know who else is special, Telly? You are!” The woman said, returning his expression. “I am, mommy?” He asked. “Of course. You know that one day, you’re going to have to take daddy’s place and be king.” The woman replied. The boy smiled. He hadn’t been told this before. At least, he didn’t think.
“Let’s finish the story, sweetie.” She said. He fell back to the earth, his thoughts of power exiting his mind for the joy of what was happening today. He waited. It was time for the end of the story, and he was ready for it.
“The little boy, of course, didn’t understand what had happened to him. All he knew was that his mommy loved him, and his daddy cared for him, and that he was in a wonderful home. And you, know what, Telly...
Telamon stared up at the ceiling. His body was failing him. He had taken the entirety of what he had created... And stopped it. Even though the motion was only a flick, his entire body felt drained.
He lay only a few feet from the other body in the room. He had been kneeling a moment ago, but was now collapsed on the floor. He rolled himself onto his stomach. High above, he saw a large brick beginning to shake itself free from the castle. It was in perfect trajectory. He had heard the ground outside collapse. The entire valley was going to do so, likely. Nothing was under it to hold it up anymore. He had done it. He had set the evil free; and it hadn’t completed its mission.
“You know what I think...” He recited, his voice gravely and low. His face lost all expression.
“I think the little boy was happy.”
The brick went free.
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