Post by Lantlas on Apr 25, 2006 16:57:15 GMT -5
Failure.
1982, Munich, Germany
Captain Anduril returned to his home on the air force base, suffering minor wounds and on temporary leave before he was to return to Iran. He walked through the front door, expecting to be greeted by his wife and children, but there was no one to be found. The clank of his steel-toed boots on the hardwood floor echoed throughout the empty hallways, as Anduril searched the house for any signs of life. It appeared the house was left without any preparation or reason, as part of dinner was still sitting on the stove. Young Neovan's toys were still on the floor, as if he'd been sitting there only a moment previous. One of Lantlas's books lay open in the middle, and Anduril walked closer. A few pages were flapping in the wind, but a bookmark held open the page. Anduril picked up the book and saw that some words were highlighted.
"And God shall wipe all the tears away from our eyes and there shall be no more death. I also saw a new Jerusalem, the holy city coming down out of heaven from God, beautiful as a bride prepared to meet her husband. I heard a loud voice from the throne ring out this is God's dwelling among men. He shall dwell with them and they shall be his people and He shall be their God who is always with them. He shall wipe every tear from their eyes. And there shall be no more death or mourning, crying out or pain, for the former world has passed away."
Anduril recognized it as the book of Revelation, and couldn't understand why his little boy would have such a graven passage highlighted as such. "Hello, is anyone home?" His heart began to race, with paranoid thoughts to what may have happened to his family. He wondered if the original family of Lantlas might've come looking for their son, and left the passage from Revelation as a warning to what may have happened? What if Iranian soldiers had kidnapped his family and were holding them hostage? He couldn't take the thoughts anymore, and tried to run up the stairs, but ran smack into the wall. As he fell to his back, he saw the hallway closing before his eyes and turning to nothing but a white wall. He turned around and tried to run back out the door, but it closed in front of him as well. Everything was becoming an enclosed white room, and Anduril was as frightened as he was confused.
One portal to the world was left open, and it was viewing his kitchen. He tried walking through, but he ran straight into an invisible wall. With his hands on the wall, he watched as his distraught wife walked in the door, tears in her eyes and her head down with a red face. She was holding Neovan in her arms, but young Lantlas was nowhere to be seen. Rocking her son back and forth, trying to ease the three-year-old's inconsolable state. "Sharon," he yelled. "Sharon!"
"It's okay sweetie," Sharon Anduril whispered to her son. "Daddy's in a safe place now." Young Lantlas walked in the room, his face expressionless. Sharon tried to reach for the boy, but he failed to notice the effort. Staring at something beyond was Lantlas, and Sharon couldn't seem to distract him while still trying to stop Neovan's crying.
"Lantlas, sweetie," Sharon cried. "Please come sit with me."
Lantlas didn't respond, as he was still staring at something in the distance. He walked up the stairs and disappeared into his room, leaving his mother feeling even more abandoned than she already was. "Jeremiah, how can you leave me with this?" she screamed. Anduril was now pounding on the wall, trying to get his wife's attention. Jeremiah glanced to his side, and saw that his Bible was still opened, but its condition had been modified. The cover was burnt and ashed, and some of the pages had been ripped. It wasn't on the floor anymore; it was now floating in the air. It moved through the invisible wall, and was now being held by a uniformed officer.
"Mrs. Sharon Anduril," the officer inquired.
"Yes," she managed to reply through her dry attempts at tears.
"This belonged to your husband. It was the only possession not destroyed in the fire. He would've wanted you to know he carried it with him always."
The officer departed from the scene as Mrs. Anduril held the book in her hands. In its charred state, she barely recognized it as the Bible that was given to her husband at birth. She started to open it when three pieces of paper fell from the middle. Two pictures were wrapped in a piece of paper. A picture from their wedding day, and a picture of his two children, Lantlas and Neovan, was wrapped in a piece of paper that read only one thing.
"Revelation 21:3."
"No Sharon, don't read it," Jeremiah uselessly pleaded.
"And there shall be no more death or mourning, crying out or pain, for the former world has passed away," Mrs. Anduril read aloud. Her face of emotion slowly changed to one of nothing at all. She dropped the book, and walked out the door. Her three-year-old son was left crying alone, and Lantlas reappeared from the second floor and comforted his crying brother. While doing so, Lantlas's eyes drifted and locked with his father's. Jeremiah suddenly felt a presence behind him in the room of white, and turned to see a magnificent blue-haired angel. Jeremiah almost fell off his feet stumbling back away from her.
"Who are you?"
"I am Narenwyn, mother of Lantlas," she responded.
"What is going on? Why can't I see my wife and children?"
"Your time in this world has ended, Jeremiah Anduril."
"Ended? But what happened? When did this happen?"
"Some questions are better left unanswered. I will however answer one that was surely on your mind for the longest time. Your adopted son Lantlas is not of your kind."
"Not of our kind?"
"He is not a human."
"He's an alien?"
"No. He was born on this planet from a race that is all but non-existent in this hateful and dying world. The Elven race, now with only two known remaining descendants on this planet. Do not worry, your son will survive all trials in which he will face."
Anduril looked back to the invisible wall, but it was no longer a portal to his world. He turned back to Narenwyn.
"Do not worry," Narenwyn advised. "His destiny lies greater than even he knows."
...
Kieran Evenstar is pacing back and forth, while Devon sits with her arms crossed, cracking each knuckle soundly. Kieran begins to get irritated, and turns to Devon. "Will you knock that off?"
"Touchy, touchy" Devon responds.
"The last thing I need is your sarcasm," Kieran snarls.
"Is that it, or are we just a bit upset that the infallible Kieran's plan has backfired?"
"It did not backfire!"
"You distract Lantlas with the final betrayal of his love. You burn his home to the ground, and you steal the emblem of his destiny. You've all but destroyed his entire life, and you wonder why he wasn't himself in the ring this week?"
"I was trying to motivate him!"
"Little do you know the occurrences that followed your little misgivings will do more motivating than you ever could've inspired."
"That sounds like a challenge to me," Kieran cracked.
"It will not need to be," Devon replied, not changing her tone. "Lantlas has faced defeat, sure. I saw him the night I betrayed him. Kevin Nash taunted him, pounded him into the mat, and Lantlas did not a thing."
"And what does that prove?"
"In the weeks following," Devon continued, "he laid a path of destruction the likes of which HHW had never seen. He was not defeated for almost a year, until the Elimination Chamber of Summer Showdown III."
"What's the point?"
"The point is, in that Elimination Chamber match, Kevin Nash, the world champion, defeated Lantlas as he was beginning to climb the ranks into world title contention."
"Yes, and that just happened here as well. So what?"
"The next month, Lantlas beat the hell out of Kevin Nash so badly that Nash retired from HHW permanently, and Lantlas became the world champion.”
Kieran stopped pacing, and brought a hand to her mouth in thought. “So what you’re saying is this loss will motivate him?”
“If there’s one thing Lantlas cannot take, it’s defeat. He will be more amped up than he’s ever been, and he will hunt Ace down and avenge it if it kills him.”
“If it kills him, huh?”
…
Stupid. Stupid! STUPID! How could I have let myself be so susceptible to a sudden finisher attack like that? I fought Ace Anderson tooth and nail; beyond his expectations for me I’m sure. Why did I go to the ring with more than the match on my mind? Why did I let what he’s done to me interfere with my intentions? Stupid dumb bastard Elven son-of-a-bitch, why does your mind work this way? WHY?!
As I expected, I saw the mirror of myself appear before my eyes, green eyes and everything. I really didn’t care, as I was beyond pissed off that I’d let myself behave in such a manner. I started to push past him, but he held my shoulder. “Hold on there a second.”
I turned and shoved him away. “Shut your fucking mouth!”
“Easy there, tiger. What the hell’s your problem?”
“I’m sick of your Elven prophecies, your ruthless attempts at motivating me through the weakness of humans. The Elven blood is my weakness, look what happened! Ace steals the emblem of the Elven Path, and I am defeated. How does this make me any superior to the human warriors if with one swift motion, they can defeat me?”
“Had the reverse effect upon you than they expected, I see.”
“What are you talking about? Ace intended to defeat me, and that’s exactly what he did.”
“It wasn’t Ace,” Green Eyes responded. “If Ace had stolen the emblem, he would’ve paraded around with it. Regardless, you would’ve been defeated anyway. You’ve let yourself become too distracted with everything else going on.”
“If Ace didn’t steal it, who did then, genius?”
“Perhaps someone you wouldn’t come to expect immediately.”
“You’re useless,” I scream as I smack him across the face. “You can’t ever come right out and say what you want to, can you? Everything has to be a mystery; it has to be so epic and climactic. Well look where the fuck it got me this week!”
“Yes, you’re more fired up than you’ve ever been. More dangerous, I would assume as well.”
“Right, like anyone’s going to take me seriously now.”
“Have they ever? Has one of those stupid ingrates looked at you and done anything but underestimate your abilities? Even you are guilty of that, for last night you underestimated your own abilities and let yourself be defeated by the one you loathe.”
“And now they’ll look at me and see me as Anthony Douglas does.”
“If you perceive yourself in this manner, most likely everyone else will too.”
“The hell with you,” I muttered as I walked past him, furious. “The hell with the whole Elven race.”
…
“The time will come when Lantlas will have the chance to become human, to be a mortal,” Narenwyn explained. “It will be at this time where his destiny will be determined.”
Jeremiah was slightly confused. “I thought his destiny was already planned out.”
“You must understand the difference between human and Elven destiny, Jeremiah Anduril. In Elven destiny, fate only carries you so far before it gives you the chance to embrace it, or make the choice that will alter it forever. The day will come when Lantlas will want to walk as a human, live as a human, and yes, die as a human. His emotions will overtake him, and if he makes the tempting choice, the Elven Path as we know it will crumble and be nothing more than a tombstone of a Path long bereft.”
“The fate of the Elven race on this planet will lie in his hands?”
“Most likely, in his heart,” Narenwyn confirmed. “I know of my son’s blessed heart, and it will likely be broken by those who he will believe love him in return. It will tempt him to become mortal, for the chance of acceptance.”
“Why would he think that way?”
“Jeremiah Anduril, what is the one thing you would’ve wanted before your death?”
“A chance to say goodbye?”
“Of course,” Narenwyn explained, “possibly to live forever, no? All humans want to live forever, in eternity. It’s shown through that book most of you humans believe is your path to do so. Those who are mortal crave the taste if immortality, but those who already have eternity would do anything to end it.”
Jeremiah felt the need to ask one more thing. “What will become of Neovan?”
“Most likely, he will die, and Lantlas will blame himself.”
“Why?”
“It is in his nature to take the responsibility of anything and everything to prevent those he loves from feeling any guilt or any pain. It is also what will cause him the most pain in the end.”
…
It had to be done.
I couldn’t go on existing like this, believing in the superiority of a race that in the end caused me trouble. It was time to know the truth, and it was time to live like a man. Perhaps then I wouldn’t waste so much time trying to plan for the future, because as a man, there may not be one if you can die at any second. The only problem? I needed the emblem, and if Ace didn’t have it, I had no idea who could.
“Lantlas?”
A voice I hadn’t heard in the longest of times. In fact, I believe I only ever heard it in one of my dreams. I turned and saw Christine Sinn standing in the doorway. I never expected to see her again after the departure of Seth. “Yes, Christine?”
“I have something for you.” I turned my head and saw she was holding a stone in her hand. Actually it looked more like a crystal… The Elven Emblem! I swiped it from her hand, and glared at her, anger boiling inside of me.
“Why did you take this from me? Why did you do this?”
“Lantlas,” she replied without backing up an inch. “It is because of you I still exist, that I had the chance to find the love of my life and save him from ending his. A strike against you is something of which I would never commit.”
“Then how did you get this?”
“It was given to me to return to you. It is my understanding that you are contemplating giving up your immortality.”
“The eternal solitude is no longer appealing. I would rather die.”
“Today, you might have that chance,” she mysteriously whispered. As she handed me the Elven emblem, she pulled something long and shiny out from behind her and cracked me over the head! She pulled my head close to hers, and quietly repeated herself. “You may have that chance.” I felt a sharp pain in my lower back, from where the scar was from being stabbed the night I saved Neovan. Things started to spin, and then they faded into nothingness.
After what seemed like forever, I finally jumped to my feet. I was no longer in the PCW Arena, or any other place I recognized. White columns of marble surrounded me, and the floor echoed with every step I made. Glass windows surrounded either wall, but nothing but clouds lay past the field of vision. Someone tapped on my shoulder, and I turned and saw my brother.
“Neovan!”
“Hello, Lantlas.”
“I thought you were dead!”
“I am, Lantlas.”
“Then, um… How are you standing here in front of me?”
“You’re dead as well, Lantlas,” he replied. “At least temporarily.”
“I’m… dead?”
“Lantlas, your quest to end your Elven existence would do more than make you a man. It would destroy the prophecy in which you are destined to fulfill. It will not reverse the tribulation that has plagued you for all these years. In fact, you would die before your heart could ever truly recover.”
“But I didn’t make the choice yet!”
“I know, Lantlas. You are being shown what would happen if you did. You must understand your destiny lies far greater than just becoming the world champion.”
“If that’s the case, how was I defeated so soundly at the hands of the current champion?”
“Since when did one loss demotivate you to nothing more than a pathetic shell of the Elven Warrior those who love you know you are? The last time I remember you losing to a world champion, you returned to completely decimate that poor piece of trash. Now, you have defeated him and he has defeated you. You have not dropped from the rankings, you have merely evened the playing field. Circumstances surrounded both victories on each side that could be used as excuses to unsolidify the claim to whom the better wrestler may be. You both now know you are worthy competitors, or at least you do if you are wise and unegotistical enough.”
“This doesn’t explain how the Elven race would collapse if I became human.”
“Because you are not meant to be a man, Lantlas. You are meant to achieve greatness, and if you thought the road would not be plagued with things attempting to foil this, you are greatly ignorant to the will of humans to end you. Trust in yourself, Lantlas. Trust in Narenwyn. Do this, and they will never lead you astray. It is time for you to go now, Lantlas. I’m sorry things worked out the way they did, and I’m sorry I never got to say goodbye.”
Before he had the chance, he seemed to get further away. He faded from my vision, and I was once again in a field of nothingness. Suddenly, I was being shaken awake. One of my eyes opened, and I saw Devon Drake shaking me. “Lantlas! Lantlas! Are you all right? Lantlas!”
I sat up, still in a daze from what I had seen. “You stupid bastard, I thought you were dead!”
“I think I was,” I replied, honestly.
Devon looked a bit confused. “Are you all right?”
I ignored the question of concern, and I stood to my feet. Everything began to make sense. Since when was I one to give up after one roadblock? To let Ace Anderson believe he was the better warrior of the two of us was not an option, and I would prove it. The next time we encounter, it must be for the world championship. The deciding victory would determine if greatness existed in flesh, or in the immortal spirits of the Elven warrior.
“Lantlas?”
“I won’t find what I’m looking for here. It’s time to look at things another way, Devon.”
“Another way?”
“This stupid Elven bastard has not taken his last breath quite yet!”
1982, Munich, Germany
Captain Anduril returned to his home on the air force base, suffering minor wounds and on temporary leave before he was to return to Iran. He walked through the front door, expecting to be greeted by his wife and children, but there was no one to be found. The clank of his steel-toed boots on the hardwood floor echoed throughout the empty hallways, as Anduril searched the house for any signs of life. It appeared the house was left without any preparation or reason, as part of dinner was still sitting on the stove. Young Neovan's toys were still on the floor, as if he'd been sitting there only a moment previous. One of Lantlas's books lay open in the middle, and Anduril walked closer. A few pages were flapping in the wind, but a bookmark held open the page. Anduril picked up the book and saw that some words were highlighted.
"And God shall wipe all the tears away from our eyes and there shall be no more death. I also saw a new Jerusalem, the holy city coming down out of heaven from God, beautiful as a bride prepared to meet her husband. I heard a loud voice from the throne ring out this is God's dwelling among men. He shall dwell with them and they shall be his people and He shall be their God who is always with them. He shall wipe every tear from their eyes. And there shall be no more death or mourning, crying out or pain, for the former world has passed away."
Anduril recognized it as the book of Revelation, and couldn't understand why his little boy would have such a graven passage highlighted as such. "Hello, is anyone home?" His heart began to race, with paranoid thoughts to what may have happened to his family. He wondered if the original family of Lantlas might've come looking for their son, and left the passage from Revelation as a warning to what may have happened? What if Iranian soldiers had kidnapped his family and were holding them hostage? He couldn't take the thoughts anymore, and tried to run up the stairs, but ran smack into the wall. As he fell to his back, he saw the hallway closing before his eyes and turning to nothing but a white wall. He turned around and tried to run back out the door, but it closed in front of him as well. Everything was becoming an enclosed white room, and Anduril was as frightened as he was confused.
One portal to the world was left open, and it was viewing his kitchen. He tried walking through, but he ran straight into an invisible wall. With his hands on the wall, he watched as his distraught wife walked in the door, tears in her eyes and her head down with a red face. She was holding Neovan in her arms, but young Lantlas was nowhere to be seen. Rocking her son back and forth, trying to ease the three-year-old's inconsolable state. "Sharon," he yelled. "Sharon!"
"It's okay sweetie," Sharon Anduril whispered to her son. "Daddy's in a safe place now." Young Lantlas walked in the room, his face expressionless. Sharon tried to reach for the boy, but he failed to notice the effort. Staring at something beyond was Lantlas, and Sharon couldn't seem to distract him while still trying to stop Neovan's crying.
"Lantlas, sweetie," Sharon cried. "Please come sit with me."
Lantlas didn't respond, as he was still staring at something in the distance. He walked up the stairs and disappeared into his room, leaving his mother feeling even more abandoned than she already was. "Jeremiah, how can you leave me with this?" she screamed. Anduril was now pounding on the wall, trying to get his wife's attention. Jeremiah glanced to his side, and saw that his Bible was still opened, but its condition had been modified. The cover was burnt and ashed, and some of the pages had been ripped. It wasn't on the floor anymore; it was now floating in the air. It moved through the invisible wall, and was now being held by a uniformed officer.
"Mrs. Sharon Anduril," the officer inquired.
"Yes," she managed to reply through her dry attempts at tears.
"This belonged to your husband. It was the only possession not destroyed in the fire. He would've wanted you to know he carried it with him always."
The officer departed from the scene as Mrs. Anduril held the book in her hands. In its charred state, she barely recognized it as the Bible that was given to her husband at birth. She started to open it when three pieces of paper fell from the middle. Two pictures were wrapped in a piece of paper. A picture from their wedding day, and a picture of his two children, Lantlas and Neovan, was wrapped in a piece of paper that read only one thing.
"Revelation 21:3."
"No Sharon, don't read it," Jeremiah uselessly pleaded.
"And there shall be no more death or mourning, crying out or pain, for the former world has passed away," Mrs. Anduril read aloud. Her face of emotion slowly changed to one of nothing at all. She dropped the book, and walked out the door. Her three-year-old son was left crying alone, and Lantlas reappeared from the second floor and comforted his crying brother. While doing so, Lantlas's eyes drifted and locked with his father's. Jeremiah suddenly felt a presence behind him in the room of white, and turned to see a magnificent blue-haired angel. Jeremiah almost fell off his feet stumbling back away from her.
"Who are you?"
"I am Narenwyn, mother of Lantlas," she responded.
"What is going on? Why can't I see my wife and children?"
"Your time in this world has ended, Jeremiah Anduril."
"Ended? But what happened? When did this happen?"
"Some questions are better left unanswered. I will however answer one that was surely on your mind for the longest time. Your adopted son Lantlas is not of your kind."
"Not of our kind?"
"He is not a human."
"He's an alien?"
"No. He was born on this planet from a race that is all but non-existent in this hateful and dying world. The Elven race, now with only two known remaining descendants on this planet. Do not worry, your son will survive all trials in which he will face."
Anduril looked back to the invisible wall, but it was no longer a portal to his world. He turned back to Narenwyn.
"Do not worry," Narenwyn advised. "His destiny lies greater than even he knows."
...
Kieran Evenstar is pacing back and forth, while Devon sits with her arms crossed, cracking each knuckle soundly. Kieran begins to get irritated, and turns to Devon. "Will you knock that off?"
"Touchy, touchy" Devon responds.
"The last thing I need is your sarcasm," Kieran snarls.
"Is that it, or are we just a bit upset that the infallible Kieran's plan has backfired?"
"It did not backfire!"
"You distract Lantlas with the final betrayal of his love. You burn his home to the ground, and you steal the emblem of his destiny. You've all but destroyed his entire life, and you wonder why he wasn't himself in the ring this week?"
"I was trying to motivate him!"
"Little do you know the occurrences that followed your little misgivings will do more motivating than you ever could've inspired."
"That sounds like a challenge to me," Kieran cracked.
"It will not need to be," Devon replied, not changing her tone. "Lantlas has faced defeat, sure. I saw him the night I betrayed him. Kevin Nash taunted him, pounded him into the mat, and Lantlas did not a thing."
"And what does that prove?"
"In the weeks following," Devon continued, "he laid a path of destruction the likes of which HHW had never seen. He was not defeated for almost a year, until the Elimination Chamber of Summer Showdown III."
"What's the point?"
"The point is, in that Elimination Chamber match, Kevin Nash, the world champion, defeated Lantlas as he was beginning to climb the ranks into world title contention."
"Yes, and that just happened here as well. So what?"
"The next month, Lantlas beat the hell out of Kevin Nash so badly that Nash retired from HHW permanently, and Lantlas became the world champion.”
Kieran stopped pacing, and brought a hand to her mouth in thought. “So what you’re saying is this loss will motivate him?”
“If there’s one thing Lantlas cannot take, it’s defeat. He will be more amped up than he’s ever been, and he will hunt Ace down and avenge it if it kills him.”
“If it kills him, huh?”
…
Stupid. Stupid! STUPID! How could I have let myself be so susceptible to a sudden finisher attack like that? I fought Ace Anderson tooth and nail; beyond his expectations for me I’m sure. Why did I go to the ring with more than the match on my mind? Why did I let what he’s done to me interfere with my intentions? Stupid dumb bastard Elven son-of-a-bitch, why does your mind work this way? WHY?!
As I expected, I saw the mirror of myself appear before my eyes, green eyes and everything. I really didn’t care, as I was beyond pissed off that I’d let myself behave in such a manner. I started to push past him, but he held my shoulder. “Hold on there a second.”
I turned and shoved him away. “Shut your fucking mouth!”
“Easy there, tiger. What the hell’s your problem?”
“I’m sick of your Elven prophecies, your ruthless attempts at motivating me through the weakness of humans. The Elven blood is my weakness, look what happened! Ace steals the emblem of the Elven Path, and I am defeated. How does this make me any superior to the human warriors if with one swift motion, they can defeat me?”
“Had the reverse effect upon you than they expected, I see.”
“What are you talking about? Ace intended to defeat me, and that’s exactly what he did.”
“It wasn’t Ace,” Green Eyes responded. “If Ace had stolen the emblem, he would’ve paraded around with it. Regardless, you would’ve been defeated anyway. You’ve let yourself become too distracted with everything else going on.”
“If Ace didn’t steal it, who did then, genius?”
“Perhaps someone you wouldn’t come to expect immediately.”
“You’re useless,” I scream as I smack him across the face. “You can’t ever come right out and say what you want to, can you? Everything has to be a mystery; it has to be so epic and climactic. Well look where the fuck it got me this week!”
“Yes, you’re more fired up than you’ve ever been. More dangerous, I would assume as well.”
“Right, like anyone’s going to take me seriously now.”
“Have they ever? Has one of those stupid ingrates looked at you and done anything but underestimate your abilities? Even you are guilty of that, for last night you underestimated your own abilities and let yourself be defeated by the one you loathe.”
“And now they’ll look at me and see me as Anthony Douglas does.”
“If you perceive yourself in this manner, most likely everyone else will too.”
“The hell with you,” I muttered as I walked past him, furious. “The hell with the whole Elven race.”
…
“The time will come when Lantlas will have the chance to become human, to be a mortal,” Narenwyn explained. “It will be at this time where his destiny will be determined.”
Jeremiah was slightly confused. “I thought his destiny was already planned out.”
“You must understand the difference between human and Elven destiny, Jeremiah Anduril. In Elven destiny, fate only carries you so far before it gives you the chance to embrace it, or make the choice that will alter it forever. The day will come when Lantlas will want to walk as a human, live as a human, and yes, die as a human. His emotions will overtake him, and if he makes the tempting choice, the Elven Path as we know it will crumble and be nothing more than a tombstone of a Path long bereft.”
“The fate of the Elven race on this planet will lie in his hands?”
“Most likely, in his heart,” Narenwyn confirmed. “I know of my son’s blessed heart, and it will likely be broken by those who he will believe love him in return. It will tempt him to become mortal, for the chance of acceptance.”
“Why would he think that way?”
“Jeremiah Anduril, what is the one thing you would’ve wanted before your death?”
“A chance to say goodbye?”
“Of course,” Narenwyn explained, “possibly to live forever, no? All humans want to live forever, in eternity. It’s shown through that book most of you humans believe is your path to do so. Those who are mortal crave the taste if immortality, but those who already have eternity would do anything to end it.”
Jeremiah felt the need to ask one more thing. “What will become of Neovan?”
“Most likely, he will die, and Lantlas will blame himself.”
“Why?”
“It is in his nature to take the responsibility of anything and everything to prevent those he loves from feeling any guilt or any pain. It is also what will cause him the most pain in the end.”
…
It had to be done.
I couldn’t go on existing like this, believing in the superiority of a race that in the end caused me trouble. It was time to know the truth, and it was time to live like a man. Perhaps then I wouldn’t waste so much time trying to plan for the future, because as a man, there may not be one if you can die at any second. The only problem? I needed the emblem, and if Ace didn’t have it, I had no idea who could.
“Lantlas?”
A voice I hadn’t heard in the longest of times. In fact, I believe I only ever heard it in one of my dreams. I turned and saw Christine Sinn standing in the doorway. I never expected to see her again after the departure of Seth. “Yes, Christine?”
“I have something for you.” I turned my head and saw she was holding a stone in her hand. Actually it looked more like a crystal… The Elven Emblem! I swiped it from her hand, and glared at her, anger boiling inside of me.
“Why did you take this from me? Why did you do this?”
“Lantlas,” she replied without backing up an inch. “It is because of you I still exist, that I had the chance to find the love of my life and save him from ending his. A strike against you is something of which I would never commit.”
“Then how did you get this?”
“It was given to me to return to you. It is my understanding that you are contemplating giving up your immortality.”
“The eternal solitude is no longer appealing. I would rather die.”
“Today, you might have that chance,” she mysteriously whispered. As she handed me the Elven emblem, she pulled something long and shiny out from behind her and cracked me over the head! She pulled my head close to hers, and quietly repeated herself. “You may have that chance.” I felt a sharp pain in my lower back, from where the scar was from being stabbed the night I saved Neovan. Things started to spin, and then they faded into nothingness.
After what seemed like forever, I finally jumped to my feet. I was no longer in the PCW Arena, or any other place I recognized. White columns of marble surrounded me, and the floor echoed with every step I made. Glass windows surrounded either wall, but nothing but clouds lay past the field of vision. Someone tapped on my shoulder, and I turned and saw my brother.
“Neovan!”
“Hello, Lantlas.”
“I thought you were dead!”
“I am, Lantlas.”
“Then, um… How are you standing here in front of me?”
“You’re dead as well, Lantlas,” he replied. “At least temporarily.”
“I’m… dead?”
“Lantlas, your quest to end your Elven existence would do more than make you a man. It would destroy the prophecy in which you are destined to fulfill. It will not reverse the tribulation that has plagued you for all these years. In fact, you would die before your heart could ever truly recover.”
“But I didn’t make the choice yet!”
“I know, Lantlas. You are being shown what would happen if you did. You must understand your destiny lies far greater than just becoming the world champion.”
“If that’s the case, how was I defeated so soundly at the hands of the current champion?”
“Since when did one loss demotivate you to nothing more than a pathetic shell of the Elven Warrior those who love you know you are? The last time I remember you losing to a world champion, you returned to completely decimate that poor piece of trash. Now, you have defeated him and he has defeated you. You have not dropped from the rankings, you have merely evened the playing field. Circumstances surrounded both victories on each side that could be used as excuses to unsolidify the claim to whom the better wrestler may be. You both now know you are worthy competitors, or at least you do if you are wise and unegotistical enough.”
“This doesn’t explain how the Elven race would collapse if I became human.”
“Because you are not meant to be a man, Lantlas. You are meant to achieve greatness, and if you thought the road would not be plagued with things attempting to foil this, you are greatly ignorant to the will of humans to end you. Trust in yourself, Lantlas. Trust in Narenwyn. Do this, and they will never lead you astray. It is time for you to go now, Lantlas. I’m sorry things worked out the way they did, and I’m sorry I never got to say goodbye.”
Before he had the chance, he seemed to get further away. He faded from my vision, and I was once again in a field of nothingness. Suddenly, I was being shaken awake. One of my eyes opened, and I saw Devon Drake shaking me. “Lantlas! Lantlas! Are you all right? Lantlas!”
I sat up, still in a daze from what I had seen. “You stupid bastard, I thought you were dead!”
“I think I was,” I replied, honestly.
Devon looked a bit confused. “Are you all right?”
I ignored the question of concern, and I stood to my feet. Everything began to make sense. Since when was I one to give up after one roadblock? To let Ace Anderson believe he was the better warrior of the two of us was not an option, and I would prove it. The next time we encounter, it must be for the world championship. The deciding victory would determine if greatness existed in flesh, or in the immortal spirits of the Elven warrior.
“Lantlas?”
“I won’t find what I’m looking for here. It’s time to look at things another way, Devon.”
“Another way?”
“This stupid Elven bastard has not taken his last breath quite yet!”