Shards of a Crystal Nightmare (cont.)

The Emperor sat on his throne this morn as the dawn broke. A pinkish-orange shaft of swirling luminescence crawled across the stone floor inexorably toward the form of the brooding Emperor. He glanced toward the flowing
beacon as if he believed his mere glance would send it packing for higher ground but alas it continued on its journey until it finally moved close enough to him to strike him squarely in the eyes revealing, with little doubt to the
casual observer the eyes of hate and perversion layered on top of centuries of resentment and disdain for the whole of the world. Himself first, if he was so inclined to admit to such but don't hold your breathe on that one.  This
morn though there was more in those almost dead swirling grey eyes. A stair that was reaching beyond the veil of the here and now, seeing into the distance who was approaching AND what destiny they were bringing with
them. He sat there for while as if stone frozen in the revelation unfolding in his minds eye, then he turned to his Captain of the Guards standing next to him.
"Someone approaches. Go and welcome them" the sardonic grin on he face nothing less than pure searing hate.
"Make sure they understand without mistake EXACTLY how well received they are.” the sarcasm was not lost on the Captain.
"It will be as you request, Master. Is there any message you wish to convey before they are dispatched." the Captain grinned.
"YOU are my message. However do NOT dispatch them. Allow that they recover and continue forward. I merely wish to give them a morsel to taste, get the flavor of their own blood in their mouths that they not be to shocked at
it when they experience it once again...in much greater quantities"
The Captain smiled wickedly as he bowed and exited the throne room moving backward until he reached the exit. Then and only then did he turn to grasp the handle of the door and withdraw. The Emperors face glowed at the
thought of the Captains "Welcome" as he knew first hand the mans notorious capacity for cruelty. If he did well, he would consider letting the Captain share his bed and his husband tonight. Perhaps even his brother, except HE
was so very special. He didn't like sharing him much but ...he would see. After all a job well done DOES deserve celebration and besides he loved to watch as someone else took his brothers pleasure from him. He had him soooo well
trained, he was damn near perfect. He shook the image from his head as he felt his cock stiffen as it usually did when his thoughts turned to his brother Silk. He turned his eyes back to what he had been watching as the light
beam skittered swiftly away from the Emperors face leaving it in deep shadow...where one could see the eyes blood red glow and the sardonic toothy grin in stark relief against the dark pitch surrounding him...

The day passed pleasantly enough for Sword and his companion as the horses loped steadily along through the lush countryside, first passing through thicketed woods, cool and inviting with heavy underbrush, then the occasional
open expanse of a glade or meow emerald green and sparkling in the sunlight, the odd colorful butterfly flitting about like a winged jewel having no care in the world other than to be beautiful and graceful. These simple delights
in life so few and far between sometimes, Sword had come to appreciate immensely for he had learned the hard way through the millennium that life was not meant to be easy or simple. It was a struggle that indeed only the
strong of arm and spirit truly survived. The rest were winnowed out in one manner or another to either fall to the hands of the reaper or worse the hands of a cruel Master existing day after lightless day, not living and not
dieing. Existing only in a dark void of crystalline frozen emotions, the shards of a crystal nightmare, from which they can never wake till one day the blessed oblivion of death takes them from their non-existence. Sword swore
early in life that he would not be one of those poor wretches, so he had worked his mind and body hard to always be the Master, not the slave, the leader not the minion but it was not without its price also as the many and
sometimes deep scars on his body and spirit told the tale of. He had gained and lost many a realm, fortune, mate and child through it all and in the end he thought to himself "Was it all worth it? All the pain and struggle  and
sacrifice and loss?" and the one inexorable answer that continued to echo in his head was "HELL YES IT WAS WORTH IT" and given it all to do again he wouldn't probably change one moment in time as was written in his life’s
book. For if nothing else at the end of his days he could stand before the mast and know every action had been his own, every consequence born on his own shoulders, that he owed no man any thank you or gratuity for what he
was, good or bad. He was he own...mind, body and spirit...thank you very much. Which now turned his thoughts back to the Emperor, who pretty soon by his reckoning was going to be his also. He had no idea how he was going to ?
accomplish this. He knew he was riding in on the seat of his pants blind as it were with only a broad sword and a very young squire not entirely proven yet in combat. His only hope at this moment was that somehow Silk and or
Lucc knew he was coming and had some course of action in mind. Even if it were to strip and dance a naked jig long enough to distract the man and make a pin cousin of him with their swords and bleed him out slowly. Out
with a whimper instead of a bang. Rather a fitting end for a man who had known not but excess and extremity all his life. Sword grinned outwardly at the inner thought even as in the corner of his eye he caught the sudden
glint of steal whistle toward his head and hearing the exaltation of his little companion as he reacted to the sudden movement of the ambushers from the thickets about them now descending on them from all sides.
The battle thought brief was intense and when over Sword had sustained not a few scratches, having been knocked from his giant steed to land back first on the forest floor, the sword of a would be assassin biting deep in the
fleshy part of his shoulder as he spun to the mans legs knocking him down to then burry his sword deep into the mans gut for his effort against Sword. The others then dispersed post hast leading Sword to the conclusion that
this man had been the leader of the hapless band of would be bushwhackers. That and the way he was dressed. The armor was unmistakable. The black mettle the Emperor was so fond of though there was no seal or coat of arms
present on the mans person anywhere Sword still knew. Call it his woman’s intuition! He also knew the limp half hearted attack was not meant to dispatch him and his squire but to give forewarning, let them know just in tiny
part what was ahead. So the Emperor knew he was coming. Good the game was afoot and Sword was itching to dance. After the pair tended their various wounds and recovered the animals and equipment that scattered about a
bit in the mêlée, the two pressed forward now with more urgency, pushing the horses as hard as they dared hoping to reach the "clearing" at the end of the days ride and have the Emperors where a bouts reviled to them. They
had lost some precious time with the unexpected ambush and Swords fire was now rekindled for the taste of the Emperors flesh...fried or bar-be-qued! As the sun sank into the horizon, its orange to blue to purple hues painting
the sky like a blanket, they approached an immense clearing, a wide expanse of a meadow laid out before them, the softly waving grasses bathed in gold and orange from the dieing sun. They slowed their horses at the edge of the
meadow and looked to the evening star, low and just visible slightly above the horizon. When suddenly a bright almost celestial light exploded in the near distance. There in stark relief bathed in the glow of this silver white
almost heavenly light was the dark foreboding monstrosity of a castle that the Emperor called home. Sword thought to himself how ironic that the bastard would revel himself every evening in such a manner. His arrogance truly
knew no bounds.


Chapter 7

Sword and the boy rode fast and hard toward the looming monstrosity before them as if the hounds of hell were on their heels. Swords only concern now was that the castle would shimmer invisible again before he reached its
bridge and lunged into its yawing maw, right down the Emperors throat, right to his dead, black heart. Then in an epiphany from that simple thought Sword realized THAT was exactly how they were going to have to defeat
this foe. Find the one thing that was the most cherished in that black heart and threaten it. Only then will they be able to corner the Emperor and defeat him. Sword tucked the thought in his back pocket and retrained his
mind on the task at hand. As they approached the bridge that spanned the tar filled fiery moat encircling the Emperors dead wasteland surrounded castle, as he feared the bridge started to slowly disseminate beneath their
horses hooves, the clattering sound of the steel shoes striking the cobble stone fading, becoming dull thuds without form and substance, no echo to give proof to their existence. With a loud roaring yell and sharp crack of his
leather reigns against his steeds flank, Sword drove the beast to lunge high in the air toward the open gates of the castle walls entrance, a loud battle cry whinny from its open foaming mouth filling the air, the animals eyes
rolling in fear in their sockets as its hoofs hit the cobble stones with a loud solid clatter giving proof to the solidity of the ground now beneath them. Close behind him followed his young squire and he was thankful the boys mind
was so sharp as to seem to anticipate Swords every move. The pair glanced back and watched as the world beyond the castle walls shimmered away as if through a heat wave in a parched desert. How very appropriate Sword
thought, as it seemed all that crossed the Emperors path was sucked dry of life then discarded like the useless rind of a delectable melon, now completely devoured of its sweet juicy meat, to be thrown in the pile of other bodies ?
that fallen at his hand, like rotting memories piled high for the for the sulfur pits beyond the fortress walls where all the garbage and waist was disposed of. Sword then looked forward and realized the implication for the open
gate that allowed them their escape.
"Good. He knows were here...saves us having to ring the door bell" Sword remarked wirily and winked to his companion, who grinned back.
The horse’s foot falls clopped along easily down the long corridor, inexorably drawn to the throne room and what ever destiny was lying in wait for them all.
As they entered the opening expanse of the throne room Swords eyes darted about rapidly getting his bearings and identifying every thing in the immediate vicinity as either friend or foe as his millenniums as a battle Lord had
taught him. All but the youthful figure seated on the smaller throne to the left of the Emperors hulking, ornate chair of power he now reclined easily in, was familiar to him. The seat of the heir to the throne...Desadareious! He
lock his gaze upon the boys countenance, ignoring all the others, including Silk who was arrayed in costly silks and silver chains and seated at the feet, just between the two thrones slightly more toward the heirs seat, as if to
hope to read him and know who exactly he was facing. What he got back from the boys mind was chaos. Recognition but unfamiliarity, security but suspicion, friendship and deep love but...but what? Blood IS thicker than water.
"Welcome back Sword to my humble manor. May I offer you a tankard of...mead isn't that is your favorite libation?" the Emperor quipped
"It's nice to know you remembered, your Eminence. It's also comforting to see that as some things have changed your taste has remained the same"
"I have found through the centuries that one can acquire a taste for almost anything given the availability of the source of food"
"And what have you acquired a taste for Emperor?" Sword queried
"Blood!" the word rang in Swords ears.
"And I had so hoped we could settle this like civilized barbarians" Sword clucked as he slowly drew the massive broad sword from its scabbard.
The Emperor regarded him with narrowing eyes.
"Oh not like you're thinking at all Sword. I found I wanted to continue my legacy" the Emperor cooed as he rose from his throne and in passing Silk he kicked his foot to the side ruefully, glairing down at him. Silk tucked his foot
beneath himself never loosing his regal composed demeanor. "and your brother and his bitch here have kindly provided me that luxury. Desadarious has been succored at MY bosom and is MINE...mind, body, heart and soul. So you
see, Sword you're too late for anything but to help me celebrate my triumph over the family, as I predicted. You might as well raise the tankard and drink deep with me...as it will be your last act in this world" the Emperors face
beamed with triumph at his words.
Swords eyes glanced back to the boy, having averted to the Emperor for their short verbal joust. He now saw the familiar shift in the eye color from the color of his birth parent to the fiery blood red that Luccs would color to
when he was ired. This time it was different, the eyes were glowing with their own inner light. Lucc was PISSED! LUCC not Desadarious! Sword smiled slightly and the Emperor looked confused.
Deep in Des's mind the boy’s conscious "flexed" as his vision blurred and went black as if falling into a gentle dreamless sleep, hearing all from a great distance, understanding but unable to act or interfere.
Silk looked up to his son feeling the "shift" in the psyonic plane, becoming fully aware of the presents of his husbands "being". He struggled with maintaining his composure knowing that any reaction would be immediately sensed
by the Emperor and could jeopardize them all, especially his beloved who he now sensed was very much still in this realm and not the next. "Sword..." he thought "We'll get you for this! The very next hunting trip"
From out of the shadows and slightly behind Swords steed strode in the Lych adorned in his deep greenish black robe and cowl that typically shrouded his visage from the world, ostrich like, as if he didn’t see the world it
wouldn’t see him either. For some reason on him ...it worked! The Emperor saw the movement and looked in its direction and growled reaching in a singular motion for his sword to brandish it in front of him. Swords Salamanca
came up to knock it to the side harmlessly. At that moment Lucc/Des jumped to his feet and moved to shield the Emperor with his body as Swords squire ran to pull Silk from the fray, knowing instinctively that Silk, adorned as
he was in full manacles and chains, was not only in danger but if he tried to act it could only muddy the waters. He reached Silk and to the tall elegant mans strong protestations, managed to pull him and himself off to the side ?
of the fray. As the squire moved he passed under the Emperor and Swords crossed blades. The Emperor howled and Sword swiftly swung about in a round house move, steel flashing before him, to have the end of it bite deeply
into Des's chest, severing muscle, splitting bone and exposing the inner organs. The blood spewed brilliant red as the veins spilled out their life’s nectar and the boy slumped to his knees with a look of shock on his face but a
triumphant glint in his eyes knowing he had successfully distracted the Emperor. The Emperor registered the quick act and bellowed to the heavens at the chaos before him, his voice rattling the panes of the stained glass and bits
of rock and mortar dust billowed down all about them. The lych silent and motionless to now made a slight almost imperceptible motion with his wrist and a smallish red dragon appeared before him and speed toward Lucc/Des
kneeling form. The Emperor jumped before the dragon and Lucc/Des unsheathed the dagger his "father" had given him for his birthday and buried it deep in the Emperors back, the blade just long enough the pierce the back side
of the Emperors heart. The Emperors eyes flew open wide at the realization of the betrayal as the dragon rose and loomed before his face. The Emperor exhaled once as the dragon’s mouth clamped down on his face and the hind
claws ripped deep into his gut spilling forth copious quantizes of blood from the wound, steaming and thick as it splashed on the dais at the Emperors feet. The thing no one but the lych saw was the black and red billowing cloud
that continually writhed and folded in on itself rise from the Emperors mouth to be sucked into the mouth and into the lungs of the small red dragon. Knowing the day lost the Emperor thought to escape the fray and regroup
later but now he was trapped deep in the body of a corporeal "thought", if you will, with no escape, as he howled in the dragon’s body to the echoing silence of his own angry voice, trapped.
As everyone rushed for Lucc/Des' body as he fell forward unconscious to the dais floor only the lych saw Swords face as it drained quickly of its color and his hand reached for the dagger in his neck buried so deeply as to protrude
from the other side, his life’s blood pumping the dark reddish-brown of a mortal wound, the spine and major arties severed in the neck. Swords head rolled limply forward as the light quickly faded from his eyes and his body
pinched forward with a thud to the ground. The lych strode forward to Sword and knelt down to him placing his hand on Swords shoulder to turn him over then resting on his chest to silence the big mans pain as he lay dieing.
The skin of the lyches face cracked ever so slightly as he smiled down to Sword and watched his eyes fade and go lifeless, leaving a gentle smile on his countenance, the unspoken words of relief from him that his family was once
and for all now safe...at least from the Emperors relentless tyrannical pursuit.
"Tell Ruby I regret not giving her the family she so deeply desired" Sword croaked to the lych
"Like the Phoenix, Sword, sometimes a new beginning springs from an ending" Sword looked confused.
"As I revived all the Ancientfire women the spark of life flashed through each of their bodies...the Ancientfires are about to increase in number exponentially. You being the father of twins" the lych explained.
As the light left Swords eyes totally, a remarkable metamorphosis occurred. His face reverted to a time in his early youth, bright and fresh, unmarred by the millennium of treachery, pain, struggle and hardship that the flesh is
so heir to. He was again, in death a beautiful youth ready to strike out into the new world he was entering, alive with hope and vitality, ready to vanquish all injustice in the world that he beheld. The lych placed his hand over
Swords eyes and closed them for the last time. The one truly righteous man he had ever met. He spoke some ancient incantations binding Sword to him as per their agreement and stood and walked to the group behind him to
tend to Lucc/Des.
"He can not sustain both spirits any longer, little one" the lych spoke to Silk who was working to close and bind the wound as quickly as possible the way the lych had taught him.
"I realize this. But I can not choose between my husband and my son who will live and who will die." he looked up desperately up to the lych.
"Seems you don’t have to my child as the Emperor has so kindly provided us with this lovely vessel to put your husband into. The best revenge in life is to out live your enemies. By claming your brother’s body, Lucc would take
over his land, his titles, his castle and his realm, which is rightfully you’re anyway and none would be the wiser but us. Des is but a youth still and memory will fade, with my help and if I know Lucc he will, after he has adjusted
to the change, revel in the irony of the battle won and the spoils he will gain."
Silk thought a moment and agreed with the lyches assessment.
"But it's gonna be a difficult adjustment for me to look into the eyes of my hated brother and feel...love even knowing that is my beloved heart." Silk mused.
"That's an easy compensation. I can do a bit of alteration to the features since there is a resemblance there anyway, if you didn't notice, and make his visage closer to your beloveds. The Ancientfires and the Nightshades are much
more closely tied than you know little one. But that's another story. For now let's deal with the business at hand before the time to do so has passed."
With the lyches directions Silk and Swords boy prepared the bodies and set out the necessary accoutrements the lych needed to first bind Desadarious' wounds then transfer the essence of Lucc to the Emperors body. As the
ribbons of pink and orange streaked across the morning sky, the sound of a lark pierced the nights silence and Silk became aware of rising from the sleep he had fallen into, to look up and see his husband rise from the grave once
more, face him and with the easy smile Lucc had to Silk when he saw his MINE he opened his arms and beckoned Silk to him. As they embraced and Silk smothered Lucc in kisses about his face, Lucc gently pushed Silk from him
ever so slightly to face him fully.
"My beloved soul you are to remove your collar of bondage and stand before me as my husband, my mate and my equal. I will never again allow you to bend your knee to any man not even myself. You are truly more Master than
any man has ever been in my eyes." Lucc reached behind Silks neck under the fine long snowy tresses that hung and spilled about his shoulders and down his back and unlatched the holding pin in his husbands collar dropping it
first, then the collar itself to the floor with the tinkling clang of silver. Silk looked proudly to Lucc and kissed the single tear from his husband’s cheek away.
Lucc and Silk ordered the staff to gather the body of Sword and prepare it to lie in state in preparation for the Viking funeral he was to be given when the family was all gathered here. It would take a while to do this as the two
families were a few weeks ride from one another so the lych prepared Swords body with special ancient herbs and spices, draped it in a beautiful white linen and gold adorned shroud to keep it preserved till the family was
together and the funeral pyre was built on the Viking cutter that would sail Sword to the sacred halls of Valhalla.
Silk mused to himself..."Now we sweep up the shards of some of the shattered nightmare that was our families legacy" and wondered if with the greatest threat now gone could they finally face the eventual end of eternity in
peace and security or did another foe threaten the gates of their castle as yet unseen and unknown. He decided to put the thought away and let the dawning day unfold into what was to be. He reached to a crystal goblet and
quickly gulped down the night’s warm wine with relish...and savored the flavor of life once more.

Epilogue

The lych settled into the worn torn massive wooden chair, the stuffing on the back and seat oozing out if it like the life’s blood spilling from a wounded animal. He raised his ornately carved pipe; the bowl made of fine ivory from
far away lands and lit the aromatic tobacco he had just stuffed in its compartment. He watched as the bluish-white smoke as it billowed and wafted up and about his face and head reveling in its soothing smell and lovely gentle
dance about him. His sharp bright green eyes slowly looked forward and focused into the far off distance with a stare that seemed to pierce beyond the veil of the hear and now, beyond reality and into the next life or plane of
existence. Ever so slowly a small speck of illumination appeared at the entrance of his abode and grew steadily larger, its celestial glow growing also in intensity till one could make out the form of a man, tall well built and very
youthful, sauntering gracefully toward the space it occupied, his head turning about now and then as if he were focusing on things as he was walking past them, not a care in the world. Till his eyes caught sight of the lych
reclining before him in his near distant vision and an easy gentle smile lit the beauteous countenance. He entered the house and as if home from a long journey and settled into a chair across form the lych that was only half as
weathered as his.
"It's about time you got here" the lych scolded playfully
"Hey, there was the matter of my funeral you know...and Vikings do so love a reason to celebrate. I couldn't just leave like that. I was after all the guest of honor" Sword chuckled
"Humph" the lych grumped "Are you quite through patting yourself on the back now?"
"Oh, I can see this is gonna be the start of a beautiful relationship"
"Well I could send you on to the Sacred Halls if you wish" the lych coyly teased
"I made a promise Lych, I keep my promises. You should know that." Sword frowned slightly
The lych let the remark go knowing full well that no truer words were ever spoken. He had gambled on Swords integrity and been rewarded ten fold for his efforts. Especially considering that he now had twice the booty from his
wager. Not only did he have the exemplary companion and student he knew Sword would be he had a play toy of immense power and potential still trapped in the little red dragon that was curled up quietly in the corner of the
room close to the fire that bore him, dreaming contentedly. Sword glanced at the sleeping dragon as if reading the lych's thoughts.
"And what of him?"
"Who the dragon? Well I'll take him out once he wakes for his morning constitution then feed him, then I'll..."
Sword interrupted the lych with a bit of irritation in his voice
"Not him, you old goat, the bastard inside him" Sword growled softly
The lych's eyes glittered with mirth yet his face never changed countenance
"OHHHHH ...hiiiiiim" he cooed then shrugged his shoulders "What do you think?"
"Well lets see...he enslaved my brother in law/cousin Silk stealing his throne, title, lands and wealth then persuasively tricked my twin Lucc into the bonds of servitude for a time under his cruel administrations, murdered my
entire family, stole my unborn nephew and almost succeeded in making a mini him out of the boy, murdered, raped, pillaged, and plundered the minds, hearts, and homes of countless people for no other purpose other than
sport as he never kept anyone or anything he stole through out his extensive life...what should I think?" Sword looked pensive for a moment then said wirily with a Cheshire grin and a glint in his eyes "I think I'm in love!"
The lych snorted.
"Well that has been for the most part reversed now, has it not, Sword?"
"I...suppose..." Swords words came out slow and measured trailing off at the end “Yet whose to say were he once again free he would not go right back to his ways and with even more venom than before. We have essentially
thwarted him, for now. Were I him, I would seek vengeance at what I perceived as an injustice on myself"
"Well assessed I would venture. So again I inquire....What you think?" the lych bantered back
Here Sword thought long and hard finally answering
"I think I'm going to have that tankard of mead now, sit back with you and smoke a bowl of that lovely tobacco you have. We have an eternity to decide"
Here only for the second time in the lyches life did his skin crack ever so slightly as a ghost of a smile scurried across his face. Swords sharp eyes caught the bright shadow as it flittered swiftly across the lyches countenance.
"This was a test wasn’t it?" he fuzzed bowing up slightly
"And you passed with flying colors"
Sword scrunched back in his chair and sulked
"Don't sulk Viking, it's unbecoming a warrior such as yourself. Here, have your mead."
The lych motioned his fingers and on the table beside Sword appeared an ornately carved tankard of the highest quality mead, nectar of the gods and a pipe resting in a cup, its carvings and quality rivaling that of the lyches, the
tobacco smoldering warmly with a soft red-orange glow. Sword raised the tankard, taking a deep drink of the delectable libation, then grasped and raised the pipe to his mouth, pulling gently on its tip then exhaling the smoke
into the air about him to form lazy shimmering rings that increased in size till they had thinned to the point that they were no longer visible to the naked eye. The companions sat in silence savoring the moment both lost in
thought content for now to share its quiet. Both sensing that the path ahead might be anything but quiet.

Fins