Black Star

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And finally dawn came, mercilessly, to reveal the blasphemous massacre of that night. The sulphur smell of the Flaegreian fields was blending with that of blood and entrails, while clots of death, horribly coagulated one with the other, slowly melted inside the iridescent acid water pools. There was no honour of weapons for the vanquished, whose remains were hideously smeared on the battlefield.
Instead, something else was crawling in that silent scene: the unnatural profanity of a rape, far beyond the concept of victory of one army over the other. It was as if the ground, pierced by fumaroles and teeming with mutilated bodies, wanted to shout to the sky a silent cry of faltering horror.
From the piles of corrupt meat, a black pillar emerged in the middle of the plain. An invisible and incandescent flame was emanating from that dark mountain, making the landscape all around tremulous due to the intense heat.

"I brought you some wine, Xarag." The man in armour approached cautiously to the black and immobile human tower.

"I do not find it right that you have to stay still for all this time instead of celebrating ..".

"Tell me you did not come alone just with that nauseating spicy wine." Glaring through the black metal of the helmet, the paladin abruptly interrupted the officer.

"I also have the serum, Xarag. Our queen never forgets the needs of her most valiant servants"

"Oh yes, she's always so thoughtful". The sudden pain obliged the paladin to an added effort for emitting the last word, which barely came out through the bloody clenched teeth.

"Do not worry, I cannot figure out how much you suffer, Xarag, and I won’t even dare to, but I promise you that also this time, when it has cooled down, we will manage to get you out of the gift".

"The gift, of course, guard of the queen. I know you'll do a good job with that piece of meat that still sticks to my bones," the black tower murmured in a metal hiss. "Now pour the whey into the wine and then leave me. You, at least, go and celebrate."

Xarag, the Black Star, barely approached the chalice at the deformed hole of the helmet and drank avidly. His meats, slowly devoured by his own armour, produced sounds that he would never get used to. He wanted to look up from that vision of death, he wanted to look for a star in the sky, among the poisonous and sulphur fumes, but the steel colour of the abyss no longer allowed it by many battles. He wanted to think to her, if only he didn’t have to bleed for the effort of not being torn apart in his body, mind and soul at the same time. For him, the battle would have still continued in solitude for long hours.

The fires projected cheerful arabesques on the cobalt walls of the camp tents, where the unrestrained bacchanal of victory was taking place. A group of officers argued in the galley tent, away from the crowds.

"I told you they did not fight! The angel approached, and they just looked at each other for a very long time .. at least that's what I saw as long as I could," said the young man with shelled eyes to the rest of the group.

"If only I could fight one of those damned celestials simply by standing by.. Maybe even while scratching my balls.” The silly laugh of the inexperienced official interrupted in a strangled sob.

"Listen to me well, piece of dung. Just because you miraculously survived your first battle and you got good marks at the academy, do you think you gained the right to talk about the Black Star?" The veteran's arm had relentlessly triggered at the young man's throat with a ruthless grip.

"First of all, that was not just an angel, but it was one of the Powers, sent into battle directly from the third triad. Have you already forgotten the lessons on the enemy hierarchy, cutie?" The grip loosened just before the colour of the young officer passed from red to dark purple.

"Also," continued the veteran, "you can bet they were fighting, as the Power had managed to overtake the first two auras of Xarag's armour and was now attempting to force the third inner one.. "

"Disintegration of the essence." Like gnarled invisibile fingers, a murmur ran through the soldiers.

The senior officer would have continued but was interrupted by a loud disturbing roar. The immediate shock-wave overwhelmed those present and all the contents of the tent. Perhaps the battle was not completely over.

...

Xarag knew this day would come. He had known since the very first day he had accepted the gift. But it was really no gift, was it? It didn't give, it took. It took and it took and it took. Yet it demanded more. It was insatiable.

If anything was the gift, it was he himself. He, Xarag, was the true gift. He gave himself; meat, bone, and soul. Just so this dark power could take. And he had known from the very first battle, from the very first blood he had shed. He had known that it would come to this. It was inevitable.

Still he tried to fight it. He willed himself to hold back, to wrest a little bit of control back for himself. But it was of no use, the Black Star had eaten deep into the sinews of his very being, and there was no stopping it.

The soldiers scattered. Some ran for dear life while the brave foolish ones tried to stand up to the raging black tower. None was any better for their efforts. The Black Star was as unforgiving as death, and it's strike could not be any more certain. It tore limbs from terrified men, and it separated the flesh from the bones of the brave fearless ones.

And the Queen watched.

From the mouth of her tent she watched. She didn't move, even with all the chaos surrounding her. She simply stood and watched, as her most lethal weapon turned itself on her own army. She was bordered, but she felt no fear. If anything, she felt disappointed.

This was not the war she had hoped to fight, or even win. This was not what the crystal ball had promised, when it saw her as Queen. She had sacrificed for it too, more than she had thought she would. But the crystal ball had always promised that in the end it would be worth it. So she had kept on the path, and it had grown darker, and darker, and darker, until the Black Star.

Xarag approached her, his flaming armor dripping with the blood of the soldiers he had just slaughtered mixed with the foul stains of those long dead. He carried with him the aura of death, and the two soldiers who stood next to the Queen died even before they felt it. But when he stood in front of her he paused, and stooped low.

She looked at him, a tender look that seemed to stir something deep within his being. He tried to reach it, to grasp it, to hold on to any last bit of humanity he could find. Xarag tried...

But it was too late. The Black Star was him, and he was the Black Star. The Queen's most beloved first born son was no more...

He embraced her...

THE END

#SladenSpeaks

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Written for @f3nix's Finish the story contest #20

This one was a difficult beginning, I had to sleep on it a bit before something came up. Y'all should head over and enter too.

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