Tether Of The Soul

Looking back towards the realm of hell, Bearth sighed softly as he gazed through the closing portal one last time ‘I will come back to collect you, my dear friend. Please bear with me, as I find that this may take some time to attain your soul back from the tether, that Gilldahara has on your soul!’ He turned his head back towards the pearly gates, and a glint of ambition shone in his eye. He was going to kill the god of creation, Gilldahara. Berath felt longing for closure, his soul yearned for it, but the powers that be would never allow him to have it.

He trotted up to the gates placed a hoof upon it and pushed against it. To his surprise, the gates opened with ease, as if they were expecting him to approach them. With caution, he looked around the surrounding area ‘Strange, why is there no soul abound?’ The courtyard where souls would line up for entrance into Heaven were nowhere to be seen. After scanning the empty void that now exists, he turned his head towards the staircase leading into heaven. Ever on his guard, Berath started to ascend the staircase.
As he climbed, his mind was delving deeper into the suppressed portion of his memories. He never thought that he would want to remember anything of his past with Queen Froyen, but here we are, he remembered sitting in front of a moonlit pond. He remembered that it was summer, and the breeze was warm as it brushed against his snout. It made him sneeze from the pollen in the air. Once he recovered from it, he felt a soft form of fabric being held up to his nose. He grabbed it, it smelt of lavender. He remembered that his mother wore that perfume, but it was only when she was able to spend quality time with him. After blowing his nose into the hankie, he felt a soft, well-maintained hoof touch his cheek ever so gently.

‘Berath, I know I have been really hard on you lately. I truly am sorry for the lack of affection I give to you. I, just… I just don’t know how to express my love to you. Ever since you were a foal, I have never had proper feelings of love for you. How do I say this, I do love you, but it is a trained type of love I have for you. I do see your hard work and dedication for both me and your brother, but I am afraid that I can not stand your face any longer. Tomorrow I will have you moved to the gallows below, there I would have my executioner to train you in the art of torture. I find that you will strive well, in that field.’

Tears fell from Berath’s muzzle as he stopped midway up the staircase ‘Mother, I was the tender age of nine when you ripped me from your embrace. Only to be put to use as some filthy mule, only to be given carrots for behaving well, and rotten apples when you could not get the outcome you deeply desired from me.’ His body collapsed from the loss of blood that was flowing out of his wound. ‘I was nothing more than afterbirth in your eyes. I saw it Mother, I saw it in your eyes, that flaming ire you dearly held for me… Even now, you mock me, disown me, curse, and jeer at me. You wish me dead, wish that I am replaced by Sorthath, but you will never get to have that. Oh, no. You will never find peace wherever your soul resides Mother! DO YOU HEAR ME? I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU! I WILL NEVER LET YOU HAVE YOUR PEACE! YOU WILL LINGER ON IN NEVER YEILDING PAIN AND SUFFERING FOR WHAT YOU HAVE DONE TO ME!’ He screamed. His body felt as if it were on fire from the hate that fueled it, but he still held it in his belly.

‘You disgrace the ground you walk upon my child!’ Gilldahara scolded ‘This is the realm of Heaven, you will not take another step from your filthy, vile feet!’ Gilldahara slowly descended down to Berath. As he did so, the staircase slowly made itself flat. ‘Berath, you are not destined to be here, nor are you allowed to step foot in my realm!’
Berath smiled widely ‘I will finally be rid of myself from the last shackle of the trinity that fetters my hooves to this earth. Gilldahara, I challenge you!’ He forced himself up from the cold and now bloodied steps. His blood pooled a little on the steps and was flowing down each step like a seeping splash of water, finding its way down from the force of gravity. Seeing this, Berath decided to splash his hoof in the small puddle gently. He lifted up his hoof and began to smear it against the blade, marking it as his. ‘Panthiazma, I give my blood to you and to your sword of the cosmos. Watch me ever closer as I finally get my revenge on your son, the King of Heaven, Gilldahara.’ The blade began to expand itself to a titanic size. His wound was slowly knitting itself together as he began to grow in size as well.

‘You have forced my hand, my child! I have never wished this against you, but I must say this. You were always destined to be evil, to be my counter to your brother Sorthath. I am deeply saddened and heartbroken that you would turn on me like this… I see you have separated your soul from those of this world. Such a shame, I had high hopes for you but you have become delusional. I must put you down, like that rabbit beast that you have become, Berath.’ Geilldahara extended his arm from his side and began to summon a green portal. He shoved his hand deep within the green ring’s thresh hold, and pulled out a silver sword. ‘Me? A delusional, rabid beast? Do you not mistake me as your projection? You, the King of Heaven, are the rabid beast!’ Berath pointed his hoof toward Gilldahara as he stared dead into god’s eyes.

Gilldahara chuckled ‘I accept your challenge Berath! You will be put in your place!’ The bells in the realm of heaven tolled their tune, signifying Berath’s final battle. Their chime began to make Gilldahara grow slowly at first, but then his growth sped up exponentially until his body was the size of a planet.
‘Zorathra, Grant me your power!’ Berath cried out. His body began to glow a bright blue. His wings grew thicker and more dense. His body grew to match his wings. His horn grew longer and thinner. His sigil behind him changed from the embodiment of the sun to that of the crystal-clear moon. And the final piece of his transformation was a crown forming on his head. It was the cleanest crystal that anyone had ever seen. It amplified the shine from the moon’s glow in the form of rainbows sprawling out from it, as it trapped the light in the crystal… He picked up Zorathra slowly with his magic, but as he did so the blade slowly changed its form from steel to that of a titanic-sharpened crystal blade.

‘Ye be graced, by the evident glow of the true ruler of Heaven. The Crystal King!’