THE LAST KING OF EMBERWYLD : THE AWAKENING DARK
Chapter 7: The New Nightmare
The woman in white stood in the nothing, her dark hair floating, her pale dress glowing. She was beautiful—more beautiful than Elena, more beautiful than anyone Kaelen had ever seen. Her face was perfect, her body was perfect, her smile was perfect.
But her eyes were wrong.
They were not black like the first king’s. They were not brown like Elena’s. They were silver—bright and cold, like moonlight on snow. And they held no warmth. No kindness. No mercy.
“You’re not real,” Kaelen said.
“I’m as real as you are. As real as the door. As real as the nightmare.”
“You’re a dream. A thought. A memory.”
“I am a new beginning. The first king dreamed me into existence before he died. I am his legacy. His revenge. His final gift to the world.”
Kaelen raised the Duskblade.
“I’m not afraid of you.”
The woman laughed.
“You should be.”
She raised her hand.
Darkness shot from her fingers—not the hungry darkness of the first king, but something different. Something colder. Something that felt like the end of everything.
Kaelen swung the blade.
The darkness met the blade.
And the blade screamed.
Not a sound—a feeling. A pain in Kaelen’s hand, his arm, his heart. The Duskblade was hurting. The darkness was hurting it. The woman was hurting it.
He stumbled back.
The woman stepped forward.
“The blade cannot hurt me,” she said. “It was forged from the first king’s power. I am the first king’s power. We are the same.”
“Then I’ll find another way.”
“There is no other way. There is only surrender. Only submission. Only death.”
Kaelen looked at the Duskblade.
It was dimming.
Fading.
Dying.
“No,” he whispered.
“Yes,” the woman said. “The blade has served its purpose. The door is closed. The first king is dead. There is no more need for hunger.”
“What about me?”
The woman tilted her head.
“What about you?”
“I’m still here. I’m still fighting. I’m still alive.”
“For now.”
Kaelen lowered the blade.
The woman watched him.
“You’re giving up?”
“I’m thinking.”
“Thinking won’t save you.”
“Neither will fighting. Not against you.”
The woman smiled.
“Smart boy.”
“I’m not a boy. I’m a man. A man who has faced darkness before. A man who has closed doors before. A man who has lost everything and kept going.”
“And now?”
Kaelen met her silver eyes.
“And now I’m going to do it again.”
He dropped the Duskblade.
The blade clattered on the nothing.
The woman’s eyes widened.
“What are you doing?”
“Something the first king never expected. Something Elena never tried. Something no one has ever done.”
He walked toward her.
She stepped back.
“Stay away from me.”
“Why? Are you afraid?”
“I’m not afraid of anything.”
“Then let me touch you.”
The woman’s silver eyes flickered.
“You can’t touch me. I’m not real.”
“Then why are you stepping back?”
She stopped.
Her hands were shaking.
“I’m not—”
“You are. You’re afraid. Because I’m doing something no one has ever done. I’m not fighting you. I’m not running from you. I’m not trying to kill you.”
“What are you doing?”
Kaelen stopped in front of her.
He reached out his hand.
“I’m seeing you,” he said. “Really seeing you. Not as a nightmare. Not as an enemy. As a person.”
“I’m not a person.”
“You are. You were dreamed by a person. You were born from a person’s fear and hunger and hope. That makes you a person.”
The woman looked at his hand.
At his eyes.
At his heart.
“You’re not afraid of me.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Kaelen smiled.
“Because I’ve seen worse. I’ve faced worse. I’ve survived worse.”
The woman reached out.
Her fingers touched his.
They were cold.
So cold.
But they were real.
“I don’t understand,” she whispered.
“Understand what?”
“Why you’re not trying to kill me.”
“Because killing you won’t solve anything. The first king tried to kill his enemies. He tried to control his fears. He tried to become a god. And look what happened to him.”
“He became the nightmare.”
“He became the prisoner. Trapped in his own fear. Trapped in his own hunger. Trapped in his own dream.”
The woman’s eyes filled with tears.
Silver tears.
“I don’t want to be trapped.”
“Then don’t be.”
“How?”
Kaelen held her hand.
“Let me help you.”
The woman was silent for a long moment.
The nothing pressed around them.
The darkness watched.
“What would you have me do?”
“Stop trying to open the door. Stop trying to end the world. Stop trying to be the nightmare.”
“What else can I be?”
Kaelen looked at her.
At her silver eyes.
At her trembling hands.
“Whatever you want,” he said. “You’re not bound by the first king’s dreams. You’re not bound by his fears. You’re not bound by his hunger. You’re free.”
“Free?”
“Free. To choose. To change. To become something new.”
The woman looked at their joined hands.
“I don’t know how to be something new.”
“Then let me teach you.”
The nothing shifted.
The darkness lightened.
The cold warmed.
The woman’s silver eyes flickered, changed, became brown.
Warm.
Human.
“My name,” she said. “I don’t have a name.”
“Then let me give you one.”
“What would you name me?”
Kaelen thought of his mother. Of Elena. Of all the women who had sacrificed themselves to keep the world safe.
“Hope,” he said. “I would name you Hope.”
The woman smiled.
It was not the nightmare’s smile.
It was hers.
“Hope,” she repeated. “I like that.”
She squeezed his hand.
“Thank you, Kaelen.”
“Don’t thank me. Thank yourself. You’re the one who chose to change.”
“I chose because you saw me. You really saw me.”
“That’s what people do. When they care.”
Hope looked at the nothing.
At the darkness.
At the door.
“What happens now?”
Kaelen picked up the Duskblade.
The blade was warm again.
Not hungry.
Peaceful.
“Now we go home.”