Chapter 1828: The Spell of the Past – Part 6
He and Persephone were such creatures that it seed as if they ought not to have existed together in nature – and the boy in front of Dominus was beyond that. He was the two opposites in one, so powerfully warring that they practically leaked out of him. He was more dangerous in his existence than an army of a hundred n, perhaps even more, if the Curse of Ingolsol were to overtake him in his current state.
And then, for the first ti in fifteen years, Dominus felt it properly – that feeling of rightness, that beckoning of the world around him that had occurred whenever he was with Persephone. The wind arose, as a great roaring voice. It dashed through the trees, tearing at branches and casting them to the floor. And the source of that wind, no doubt, was the boy in front of him. A creature of significance, either for the point of destruction, or for the point of heroism. Dominus knew not. He did however know that, what he beheld was the youngest Boundary Breaker in known history, and, as far as he was aware, the only creature ever to hold two Fragnts from two different Gods at once.
Dominus observed him, and reassured himself of the sword at his side. For the warring that was going on within him, the boy seed awfully poised. Naturally, he wasn’t happy, for the building that was quite evidently his accommodation was on fire, but nor did he seem to be on the point of losing himself to anything. Dominus had endured his poison for many, many years, but he had to wonder just whether he could endure a war of the souls for any length of ti, and especially a war like that which the boy was experiencing. The Dark God Ingolsol, of all the adversities that want ought to try taming. That he clung to life at all, it was a surprising thing.
The boy’s very existence was the sign Dominus had looked for. He read into it, like Pestophone once would have, and he heard her voice in his head, as he thought on it even more. The forces of corruption, and darkness, and control – that which the God of Despair was known for. That which the High King had afflicted on them. And then the forces of giving, and taking, the undulating waves of Progress, that which Dominus and Pestophone had given themselves to.
The war that Dominus had aid to fight, on a symbolic level, was happening already inside the boy in front of him. The wrestling towards a sort of balance. The very state of the kingdom itself, crystalized inside one being.
“And his age too…” Dominus murmured, guessing at it. It could not have been a coincidence. It was far too perfectly aligned. The creature in front of him had suffered. He could tell as much for the slave scars on his back. But Dominus, even before speaking a word to him, was grateful for his existence. After fifteen years of searching, finally, the Gods did give him the sign that he had been looking for.
He stepped out sternly, aggressively, like a knight about to carry out his duty, and strike down a creature that could wrong the world if it ever spiralled out of control. But in his heart of hearts, Dominus knew that he would never have been able to do that. He’d finally found it after so long, so branch of aning. There was no chance he would see it ended by his own hand.
Then the eyes had turned to look at him, so full of life, so full of magic. Greeny blue, and grey, with flecks of gold. He could almost see Persephone in him, but he could see sothing else too, beyond the both of them.
The days that had seed so dull had beco easier then. The life that Persephone had brought him, Beam now brought him. A fierce pride grew in a matter of weeks, before Dominus even knew what was happening. He found himself guarding, and protecting, and guiding what he knew to be a young man of importance.
He found incredible talent, but he also found a heart that he liked. A creature that had been delivered an incredible amount of suffering in such a short ti, but had held strong despite it, and had not fallen into the trap of despair or malevolence. Such were the foundations of the kind of hero that Dominus understood.
He spoke to Arthur and Persephone in his head, as he watched Beam grow.
When he saw him strike down the Evolved Hobgoblin, he spoke even louder. His fist clenched, and he had to hide his delight. “See! See!” He said. “Look at him! Arthur – he has your talent. Look, Persephone, look how he throws himself forward, despite his struggle. There’s a creature that knows how to endure.”
Every day, once more, was filled with life. The world that had stood still for so long started to spin again. It all started to change, and the revenge that Dominus had longed for, for the longest ti, started to change colour towards sothing else.
It was not the future that he had supposed they would have, and it beca obvious to him that nor would he have the satisfaction of the conclusion with his own hands. He could feel, bit by bit, his body and the poison within it stirring, as the frozen blood began to move again. He was not long for the world. Certainly not long enough that he could allow himself to watch Beam grow up, and beco the man that he was certain he would be.
He dragged himself away from the old hatreds. He spoke not to Beam of it. He shouldered him with no burdens. He knew to do so was rely to corrupt him. He did not wish to rob the boy of his own life.
The wants of the world were beyond him. For fifteen years, he had struggled, only for the conclusion to be so much different from what he had thought. His position, it seed, had never been to be the deliverer of revenge. For fifteen years, he has existed, rely to teach Beam for the short few months that they had together. Dominus was certain of that, and sohow, he felt no bitterness for it.
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