The Birds of Belkalam

The Birds of Belkalam

A Story by Skaely
"

The world is at the brink of collapse and in the middle of the war, he has to choose between love and death. But the choice is not easy when you're the Son of Death.

"

Part I - The Wings of Death

The world was once again drenched in blood and as he flew above the battlefield, all he could see were dead bodies sprawled across the sacred ground of Aever. Destiny had hit these poor mortal souls and he had to witness their lives fading away. On wings as swift as the wind, he reached the top of a pine tree and stuck his claws in the tender wood. Blue eyes peered at the plain stretching in front of him, the dead, the blood and the shattered weapons. The Betrayer's armies had struck again. Yet he couldn't allow pain to clench his heart. He had a task to accomplish and crying over deceased mortals was useless anyway.

What's done is done. 

He felt her coming before the branch shifted underneath him. He had no need to glance sideway to know a barn owl was now standing beside him. A featherlike touch brushed his mind and he allowed her to speak.

"She has come again."

"So it seems." He clapped his beak. The owl only tilted her head to one side to peer at him. He ignored her stare and focused on the dead souls gathering at their feet. "I can't do anything about it. If you and the others think I enjoy this..." he clapped his beak once again in the general direction of the battlefield. "Then you are utterly wrong."

"We -they- never thought of it." Her voice was smooth and rang like a sweet silver bell. "Neither do they blame you, as you seem to think."

He shot her a sharp look. But her soft expression deterred him from arguing so he merely looked back at the bloodied field. "So why are they sending you Mey." His tone was sharp and agressivity lined his thoughts. He had neither time nor desire to exchange small talks with her.

"They didn't."

He howled what sounded like a laugh and ruffled his wings. "How sweet of you."

"Belkalam, what your sister did is not your fault. There is or was nothing you could do about it." Her voice remained soft. "Your burden is heavy enough. And no, I didn't come here to offer you to share it or alleviate it. This..." she looked at the battlefield, "is your task." She paused and he felt her piercing stare crash through the wall of illusions he had risen around his emotions and feelings. 

"You always had that darkness inside you. Younger you were still joyful. But you are the son of Death, Belkalam, so is your sister. And it has branded your soul more than you can imagine."

Her gaze weighted on him. "It had turned your sister and now you are afraid it will turn you too. But I know. I know a part of you yearns to turn too."

He jolted and only caught himself thanks to his wings. How could she... His heart sank in his chest. Did she come to punish him? To banish him and curse him the same way they had cursed and banished his sister? She laughed softly, the crystalline sound echoed in his head and soothed his soul and brushed his worries away. 

"Of course they are afraid of you. But only you can decide of your Fate. Because, in the end, it is your birthright isn't it? The very power bestowed on you when Aya bore you to life."

She watched the sinister landscape and her eyes darkened, yet her voice stayed light and soothing. 

"Don't let them decide of your worth Belkalam. Don't let anyone decide of your worth. Specially not your sister."

"What am I suppose to do then?" Even in his head his voice sounded like a croak.

"It is only yours to know."

And with that she speaded her wings and soared high in the sky. The branch barely moved as she took off and he was left with the agony of thousands of souls. His claws gripped the wood and they etched deep gouges in the soft bark.

Only you can decide of your Fate. They words echoed in his head. But you are the son of Death and it has branded your soul more than you can imagine. Death. Fire. Storm. Battle. And agony. Endless agony. A part of you yearns to turn too. What if he let the monsters howling in his chest get out? What if he unleashed this lurking darkness? Would he be as powerful, as dreadful as Lurien?

But did he really want to?

What do I really want? The world was drenched in blood. Broken, beaten, burnt. And inside his heart he knew.

I don't want this. His beak was clenched tight, his eyes veiled as he stared at the horizon. The burning horizon, the sky was bleeding, the stars were crying. And through the endless night he glimpsed at the future. The sky would bleed red, again and again. Light would come to reveal not only the blood drenching the ground but also the wealth of the world. And he couldn't let his sister destroy this small part of beauty. A storm was gathering, and he had to prevent it from breaking the future life of Aever. 

So he took off, the tree shivered as he left it and he soared up high, gathering the souls of the fallen soldiers, embracing them in his wings and he carried them away, to that promised afterlife. 

Maybe once the light came, birds would rise and shine too.

© 2018 Skaely


Author's Note

Skaely
any constructive critique is welcome ;)

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Added on May 3, 2018
Last Updated on May 3, 2018
Tags: arkhana, romance, epic, fantasy, love, magic

Author

Skaely
Skaely

Switzerland



About
Hello! I'm Skaely, from Switzerland and huh... thank you for stopping by and reading me ;) more..