Epilogue

Anjur looked out at the merriment, noting Bard’s distinct searching for them. He could sense them, he knew it. He stepped more into the shadows, signaling for Syrene to be extra cautious. She had wanted to see it, feel the exchange as a new Elder was appointed. So they had offered to keep the Southern Tribes in check, so this could go through. It was a simple exchange, that had offered more than they had bargained for. They had barely made it back to the woods, and Anjur had spoken with the Elders so that he and Syrene could watch without them alerting anyone of their presence.

Her expression had softened, even held a bit of awe, something he was unaccustomed to. Her memories tormented her soul to the point that she was mostly stoic, never revealing her inner feelings and thinkings. In all his experience reading those mind crystals, he could barely make out some feelings. But tonight, it was as if her guard was down, calm, and relaxed. It made her small frame appear more like the child that she looked like. He noticed Zak running around as well. Those blue tipped ears reminded him of his blue horns, and the blue streak mirrored his own. No doubt, Sina had done something.

As if following his line of sight and thought, Syrene pointed him out, silently. Anjur nodded, letting her know that he saw. Her shadow morphed and prevented a ball from landing too close to them before rolling it back. Her countenance slightly fell, regretting the childhood she had lost. She was the former Empress. The one the world believed was dead. She had her own set of tokens, though it was very few. Her trials were much larger and longer to gain trust with the Elders after all the damage she had done, but the fact that she had three, was proof that she was growing, learning and atoning. Suddenly her back straightened and she was alert. Anjur looked back and saw a shadowy figure some distance away on the mountain. He quickly let her adjust his eyes so he could see more clearly. There were a few of them, and they watched. With simple stealth, the two moved after them, and Syrene grasped the invisible mind crystals that hovered in their shadows. She quickly took control and released them again, gritting against the pain.

Anjur quickly wrapped them in moonlight, humming Father’s song. The shade was ripped from them, and they growled as their true forms were revealed, a pack of animals that held malice in their eyes. Anjur noticed Syrene seemed relieved at the reveal before she came up and let her mask slip up, revealing her mark. The animals then looked at her and her moving shadows before coming over and rubbing against her, as if greeting an old friend.

“Glad it was just some animals,” Anjur commented, hoping to hear her thoughts.

“Yes…” she said softly, slowly. She didn’t look at him, but focused on the beasts. A few birds came at them before leaving. Anjur sighed and cloaked them all in the moon’s energy, keeping them hidden from prying eyes, since she wasn’t doing that. Syrene realized it quickly and apologized before putting up her own cloaking powers.

“Don’t worry about it,” Anjur answered. “You’re still a bit rusty, but you seem to have mastered quite a bit of that power once more.”

“My mother was far superior than I,” she refuted. Anjur sighed and then approached her, kneeling on one knee in front of her. She looked surprised, and he moved his hand and pulled the mask down to hide her mark. “I’ve told you this before,” he remarked, and she slightly adjusted the mask, her feathery cloak shifting with a few gusts of wind. “You’re not the Empress anymore. You are you. Syrene. And you are doing a fine job at atoning for your past. Don’t ever forget that.”

She was silent for a bit longer, her gaze looking past him down at the festivities below. He looked back, but her next words made himself pause as they caused his horns to vibrate with the sound.

“Thank you, Uncle Anjur,” she said, and he couldn’t bring himself to look back at her. But he felt her come next to him, sitting contently as if a child once more. He closed his eyes as he smiled. Perhaps, just maybe, this is why Jay liked the title of Father so much.

....... Hello everyone.....

That concludes Ballad of the Bard, but not Mundeos's world. 

There is more, but I need a bit of a break.... so, this is to inform everyone of the next two series that follow this... Song of the Silent, and Hymn of the Heart. 

I may add some extra chapters that I've thought of that come later.... possible even some removed chapters.... there were a lot of those. For example, Bard's story about sitting on the rock, and some other bedtime tales he and Sen shared on the road, and some of the adventures with Little Zak and Avaline. I've also got chapters for Ruegar, Anjur, Elvira, and others.... and a chapter about Amir's wedding.... which was a riot. But those are 'EXTRA!'

Not to mention some chapters from the Empress's perspective and what has been happening in the interim before Song of the Silent picks up... Syrene.... I mean Syrene. 

Okay, enough about that. If you've enjoyed, please, reach out, take a look around the art gallery! (I've got more on my personal website that I display at once... but... ya) This has been a long time in the making and is only the tip of the iceberg which I've called 'Call Realms'. All that mythos that has been more background, with Anjur, the Daemon Clans, The gods, and more have their own books and beyond. If I can make this all work... 

Well.... the short version is this project is just the entry to the universe. I prefer to call myself a recorder of history, because frankly that's what this feels like to me. There are currently 26 planets worth of books, god wars, background stuff, histories and more in this 'Call Realms'. Most of which is not published yet, but a lot of it is recorded down. 

While this story took on the face of a fantasy romance, other books I have are mystery, adventure, action, a lot will have a lens of fantasy, but I look at it as sci-fi.... just because I know how all these things work and why...

So if this story-telling really stuck a chord, then let me know. I'd love to get more stuff out there... but for now, this is where I take my leave.

Thank you for all your support so far and I hope to earn another read in the future. (look out for Song of the Silent and Hymn of the Heart.)

You know what. I'll give a sneak peak into one of the chapters from song of the Silent... I'm feeling a bit generous today.

Zak coughed, his chest heaving as his saliva grew thick. He wiped at it, rising to stand so he could see the aftermath. His ears still rang from the chaos of the battle, but the world around him had stilled with an unnatural silence. The dust shifted with the winds, allowing him to see the claw marks, the crumbed ground, the torn trees. All this destruction had come from Deimos’s monstrous form. He had fought with that. Zak’s legs trembled, barely holding him up. His sense faded, the ground seemingly vanishing as he tried to stay upright, a weight in his chest growing as his eyes caught sight of his target. Deimos’s massive form faded as he became human. Zak couldn’t look, he didn’t want to see the pale face, eyes closed, never waking.

His stomach twisted, barely staying inside. It was easier to see Deimos as the beast who had fought them, hunted them, hunted Syrene. It was easier to see him as the enemy who had tricked him into running away from home, turning him agains this father and family. The same enemy who had planted him with these powers, nearly shading him. Those same powers pulsed in his veins, and his mark around his eye glowed a faint blue.

He breathed.

This was wrong.

Syrene’s plan rang in his mind. To take out Deimos and bring him back to reason. But in the heat of the fight, with Deimos charging at him, six eyes about to bore into him, he had fired. That man was too far gone.

He had pulled that trigger, felt the recoil jolt through him. The shout, and then the plume of dust as Deimos stopped and fell. It all cracked at his conviction. Had he been wrong? Had there been another way?

He turned, his breath catching as he caught sight of Syrene. She stood a few paces away, her shadows settling down. But her face was a mask of horror, her dark eyes locked on Deimos’s body, not even seeing Zak. It stung worse than any wound.

Her face, so cold and calm, with her powers smoothly taking on foes was gone. Vanished. Her lips trembled, and shoulders haunched. She looked… haunted.

Zak wanted to call to her, to explain, but the words died in his throat. She wasn’t looking at him. And he doubted she would ever look at him the same way again.

Syrene moved suddenly, her shadows pulling her, nearly teleporting to Deimos’s side. She stumbled as she stopped. Her boots scuffing the dirt and dropped beside him. Zak took a step but froze as a single word escaped her lips.

“Brother.” His eyes flew wide at the revelation.

Her hands hovered over Deimos’ chest, shaking as if afraid to touch him. Slowly she reached out, her fingers brushing his cheek, tracing the line of his jaw like she could wake him. “Brother,” she whispered even hoarser, her voicing cracking. She put her head down, her shoulders shook as she silently sobbed.

Zak took a few steps closer, his chest aching, his throat tight. This wasn’t the Syrene who’d fought beside him, who saved him from Deimos’s plans, or gave him the tough love he needed. This was a girl he didn’t know, raw and shattered, mourning the brother who’d been her enemy but also her family.

He stopped right behind her, frozen, rooted to the spot. He wanted to kneel beside her, to hold her, to say he was sorry. But he had caused this. He had fired the shot that taken Deimos, betrayed their plan, betrayed her.

Just when he thought he might be catching up to her, ready to reveal that he liked her, he had gone and done something stupid like this. She’d never forgive him. Watching her weep, he knew he ruined that chance. At the same time he felt a bit of anger. He would have been more careful if he had known Deimos was her brother. He reached out, then withdrew his hand.

What if she turned on him? He couldn’t fight her. He wouldn’t. But he also didn’t want to die.

Minutes passed, or maybe hours. Zak couldn’t tell. The clearing seemed to hold its breath, the air heavy as she cried, all her strength gone as she nearly lay across Deimos.

Finally she shifted, adjusting Deimos’s cloak, a small, tender gesture that made Zak’s heart twist. The way she did it, as if she had done it hundreds of times, perhaps when she was just a kid, before they changed, before he became a monster.

Zak’s mind flickered to a memory. Not one he had lived, but one Syrene had shared, about an older brother of hers, likely Deimos, braiding her hair when she was six or seven, teasing her for squirming. That Deimos was gone, and Zak had killed him. His hand twitched, wanting to reach for her but he stopped himself. What could he say? That he believed Deimos was too far gone? That he’d panicked? None of that would bring her brother back.

Syrene’s sobs slowed, then stopped. Her hands curled into fists, her knuckles pale. She sat back, her breath hitching, and for the first time, she looked at Zak. Her eyes were red, filled with grief, but there was something sharper there, something that cut deeper than her tears. Betrayal. She knew. She knew he’d gone against their plan, that he’d chosen to kill instead of save.

Zak opened his mouth, desperate to explain, but before he could speak, Syrene stood. Her fists clenched tighter, as if fighting the urge to lash out. But she didn’t act on it. She turned and ran, her footsteps vanishing as she moved to the shadow realm.

Zak’s heart sank, heavy as stone, barely registering that his hand had reached out to stop her. He gritted his teeth and let it fall to his side.

She hadn’t attacked him, hadn’t summoned her shadows or screamed for vengeance. She’d just left. Relief washed through him. She hadn’t tried to kill him, but it was drowned by dread. She was gone, maybe forever. He didn’t know how to fix this, didn’t know if he could.

Before his mind could process it all, he rose and stepped the final way to Deimos’s side. He needed to see him, to face what he had done. His friend, his betrayer, the man who’d used him but also laughed with him under starlit skies. As he knelt beside the body, a faint shudder caught his eye. Deimos’s chest rose with a weak, impossible breath. Zak froze, his pulse racing. Before he could react, darkness swallowed him, a cold grip of shadows wrapping around his limbs, pulling him under. He struggled, his breath shallow, the air thick with the hum of power, the same that pulsed through his veins.

That's right. Song of the Silent will follow Zak, son of Bardon Jaystrum, as he delves into the world of the shadows with Syrene our... former Empress of the Night. I'm still working on several chapters and engaged in the ISEKAI competition, so I pray you will have a bit of patience with me as I continue the saga. As for Anjur, yes he does make a more involved appearance now that he isn't tied by the rules of the Aytac.

If you've enjoyed this and are excited for the next series, please comment. If I get plenty of comments (likes count too), then I will push Song of the Silent up on my project list. (I have so many books to write....)
Well, see you in my other works! Thank you for reading this tale. (now to go through and edit it a bit more)