Pendragon is no longer a factor.”
“Forgive me for questioning,” the visitor said. “Can we be truly certain of that?”
Saint Dane took a tired breath. “He and his kind have drawn strength from the belief they have been battling my evil for the greater good of Halla. Now he understands there is no clear definition of evil. He has caused destruction and suffering. He has manipulated the people of the territories as much as I. It took many battles for him to learn. Now he knows he is no different from me. That realization has crushed his desire to go on. He is finished.”
“Will it be enough to keep him away?”
Saint Dane gave his visitor an icy stare. “You question me?”
The visitor shuddered, but tried not to show weakness. “Of course not. I’ve never questioned your intent. But he is strong.”
The scars on Saint Dane’s head blazed in anger. “Not strong enough, or he would not have been manipulated so easily.”
“Do you think he understands what he has done?”
“If not, he will soon,” Saint Dane answered. “I told him long ago that Denduron would be the first domino to fall. By unearthing the tak, he assured that. Pendragon himself created our victory. I look forward to the moment when he realizes that.”
“And you’re certain it will crush his spirit?”
Saint Dane looked down at his visitor with a fatherly gaze. He reached out and stroked the visitor’s black hair. “So many questions.”
He quickly and violently grabbed a handful of hair and yanked it, making the visitor cry in pain. “Concern yourself with your own task,” he spat angrily. “Make him love Ibara. Make him want nothing more than to live there and help create his version of a perfect world. Who knows? Perhaps he will fall in love. By then it will be too late for him to strike back.”
He pushed the visitor away. He was back in control, his anger gone. “I look forward to the moment when he learns the true nature of our conflict and how futile his mission was from the beginning. We will stand together, he and I. One in victory, one in shame. Only then can I truly own the power of Halla.” He cracked a self-assured smile. “How sweet the moment of revelation will be, when he learns that he handed it to me.”
The visitor nodded, afraid to make eye contact with the demon.
“Forgive me, Nevva,” Saint Dane said softly. “I am the victim of my own passion.”
Nevva Winter wiped back a tear and replied, “It’s why I believe in you. That passion is what will ensure your ultimate triumph.”
“Our triumph,” Saint Dane corrected. Nevva added, “But please, don’t call me Nevva on this territory.”
Saint Dane chuckled. “I appreciate the way you so fully immerse yourself in your roles.”
“I too am passionate about our quest,” Nevva replied.
“And for that you will be rewarded. Once the power of Halla is mine, we can truly begin. Together.” Saint Dane took a step away from Nevva Winter and began to transform.
“Until then, good-bye… Telleo.”
The black cloud that was Saint Dane molded into the form of a raven. The bird launched from its perch, swooping down over the crumbled buildings of Rubic City before disappearing into the clouds…
And entering the Convergence.
(TO BE CONTINUED)
