I know there might be a lot of confusion. I am revising my story as I got a couple of holidays. The story shall no longer continue from Elmar's pov. At least in this book. 

@Mikkow3 I have no words to thank her. Your support means a lot :)

Let's go to the story!

Tears Are Not Weakness

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Aeons ago she was one of the powerful creatures that walked on the faces of Lavatia. They had feared her, loved her, respected her and most of all remembered her. Now she was a mere speck of dust, long forgotten. However, she never forgot them. It was her duty to protect them and she would protect them with her last breath.

Was it not for the promises, she would have let her soul pass to the other side of Volney, the side where the souls rested in peace. She sighed. It was not the power she craved. Never the power.

True, the darkness had a beauty that light could never compare, but how long would the people stay in dark? Not for long. They could never survive in utter blindness. It was the law of mortals.

She walked on the streets of Rixihy. None could see her. Their saviour who kept the darkness at bay. She did not mind it. She preferred it this way. Had they seen her, she must give them answers, which were best left untold.

It was a normal day for them. The smile on their face made her content. It was that smile she strived for. Smiling softly to herself, Ar'kela passed them. Their voice sang the hymns of Earendil.

This was good. Their faith in him would help him heal. Humming the hymn herself, she made her way to the shrine in the village. Unlike many towns and villages that lost their faith in the Spirits, Rixihy had not succumbed to that foolishness.

Feronia sat on the highest throne with the Spirit of Justice and Spirit of Power on her either side. The marble floors were designed in the convoluted pattern of the frost. Some flecks dared to sit on the statues of the Spirits.

The pristine white marble had a light shade of grey. The flowers offered to them had wilted. The starlight shone, making the shrine light up in liquid silver. A feather or two were scattered on the floor.

She bowed to each and every Spirit there and murmured her prayers. Owls hooted and began their hunt in the forest. She ruffled her black skirt and knelt before Amhika, the Spirit of Mother.

"Help me, Mother," she whispered. If her mother was here, she would have known what to do. "What would have you done, if you were in my place? I am lost. Show me the way."

She hated her voice sounding so pathetic. She hated the fraught she heard in her voice. She wanted her body to stop shaking and her eyes to be dried. If only she could speak with her mother, she would have a clear mind.

"Everything that we fought for is gone, is lost," Ar'kela whimpered. "He turned against his country. He betrayed the blood of Azaziah! With us Guardians dying, what am I to do?"

The winds stilled and the stars glowed brighter. Being one of the last immortals, she knew the Spirits were listening to her mourning. The shadows that loomed over her vanished and she bit her lip.

The ache in her chest said that something had happened to one of her comrades. Had she sent him or her to their death? If she had, she would never forgive herself.

"The Guardian of Fate died taking the dagger meant for Sesha. His soul died when that cursed blade touched his skin." The tears were now spilling down her eyes as that memory came to the front of her mind. "Did Ray'elm'iel find that dagger again? Who am I going to lose now?"

Soft cries of hers echoed in the lifeless shrine. She wetted her dry lips. The north - Samariya was lost completely. Just the way they had lost the other four continents, the invasion of Ruthen had already begun. She had tried to stall it in the past, but she had been successful only for twelve thousand years.

When the mind itself could not resist, who could? The brave? Or the gentle? Who had the guts to do so?

Her strategic mind said calmly that west would be lost within winter, but her naïve heart had the hope that they would win. They must win. One step at a time. Failure taught her things that even a teacher failed to do so. But how long was she going to let the Darkness win?

"I know you are listening! Yet you are not replying anything." She ran her fingers through her hair. "Did I do a mistake? If I did, punish me. Not the other Guardians and the innocent people."

The zephyr became comparatively warm. The murals engraved on the walls began to glow. The swirls of red, green and blue came alive as she stared at them. Despite being the leader of Guardians, the wonders the Spirits did, surprised her. The bells began to chime and the breeze blew to clean the floor.

The flaccid flowers blossomed as though they were seeing the sun again and they filled the air with their fragrance. People sang the chants in a louder and stronger voice. The atmosphere vibrated with the power and compelled her to bow down.

The scent of jasmine wafted to her nose. From the light, a shape began to form. Whoever it was had taken the shape of a human. She turned to see the Spirit who had graced her with their presence. Without meaning to, she bowed down and touched her forehead on the floor. She kissed the ground.

The Spirit had black hair and a warm face. Her posture was relaxed and fierce at the same time. Her eyes held the kindness mother would give their children at the same time it was sharp as the needle's edge. Ar'kela knew she would go to any length to save her children.

Amhika smiled sadly. "Get up, my child."

Her eyes were watery again. "I never expected you to come, Mother."

"I hate it when my children cry, R-," she whispered.

"It's still Ar'kela." She spoke to her.

"Ar'kela."

The Guardian looked up. "I was never lost so much. I just do not know what to do."

"That is why mothers are here." Amhika sat next to her. "We are there to guide you when you are lost. All you had to do was to ask."

"To whom should I ask, Amhika?" she asked. "My mother is dead."

The Spirit wiped her tears away. "The mother of this body, my dear. Not the creator of this soul. As long as the mother of your soul lives, you can ask her anything."

"Anything?" she asked, her raspy voice foreign to her.

"When a mother does anything to you, never think it as a job, she is just protecting her young." Amhika pointed deep within the forest to a scene an Immortal could easily see. "Do you see? How the mother deer is protecting her fawn in this cold weather?"

She nodded. "Yes. She is giving her life to keep it safe."

"It is the nature's will." Amhika smiled. "The mother's instinct. But I am sure that you did not call me for having a mother-daughter talk, Ar'kela. Spill your fears to me."

"Why is Feronia not replying to me?" she asked the first question on her mind. "Does she hate me so much? Does she think she had made a mistake of choosing me?"

"Mistake of choosing you? Then she would have regretted it thirteen thousand years ago itself. And why would she hate you? She loves you more than anyone, including herself." Amhika caressed her hair. "She is disgusted with herself for falling prey to the darkness."

"How could she know? She thought she was keeping everyone safe."

"Yes. By doing so, she bought time to Ruthen," the Spirit sighed. "She is too blind to see that."

"She must stop hating herself." Ar'kela sniffled. "Iphis must have a conversation with her."

Amhika laughed. "Yes, he must. Perhaps she might bring him out of his misery."

"His misery? The last time I spoke with him, he was consumed by anger."

"I guess I said something I should not have," she grimaced.

"Why should I not know? After all, I am fighting your battle," Ar'kela asked as she fiddled with the hem of her skirt.

"Yes. You are." Amhika lifted Ar'kela's face. "Yet you are still prone to everything a mortal might undergo. Like the depression you are feeling now and the love you might feel later."

Her face burned and she broke the eye contact with the Spirit. "I will never be able to understand how mothers think."

Amhika laughed. "One day when you are a mother yourself, you will understand that."

"Guardians cannot have children!" she exclaimed.

"Who said that?" she asked. "Just because you Guardians are so immersed in your work you never acknowledge what you feel. You are allowed to have a normal life as a mortal, just that you have more responsibilities. Just ask Kacela."

She stayed silent. Shame filled her. She was the leader of Guardians and the most powerful immortal in existence and she was behaving like a peasant woman. Complaining.

"Do you know why the Spirits have chosen a female as their leader?" Amhika asked, breaking the silence.

"So that she might be benevolent?"

"Yes." The Spirit looked at Feronia's effigy. "Also, a female cannot keep her emotions inside herself. She tends to pour it out. When she does that, she becomes free. She is capable of making decisions with a clear mind. That is why when someone needs advice they reach their mother."

"Why are you telling me this?" she asked.

"Because my child, you have poured your heart out to me," Amhika smiled. "Now you can take decisions with a clear mind and don't ever be ashamed of yourself when you are taking the burden off your shoulder. Everyone deserves that."

"Thank you, Mother," Ar'kela whispered. "When Zephrina was born, Nyz'ck appeared. Darpan was killed. By staying here, protecting Zephrina and them, am I doing the right thing? I even let one of my comrades die!"

"Trust your heart, my child," Amhika said. "It is as old as aether itself. If it saying you to be here, then stay."

"But so many battles are being fought." She protested.

"Are they yours?" Amhika rose her eyebrows.

"No."

"Then why to fret?" she asked. "I may be the Mother to all, but I know that these battles will decide who is the strongest. And only the strongest survive, it is the Nature's will again. Faine's rules. Who are we to decide?"

"Then Acracia is going through the test? To see whether it is stronger?" she asked.

The Spirit hummed. "Did you not know why the Battle of Skatras has started, Ar'kela?"

"So the Spirits have given a name for the battle now being fought?" she laughed, mirthlessly. "The battle began because of Earendil."

"Yes. Earendil." Amhika smiled. "He gave away his powers. In fact, he would have denounced as a Spirit for her. It started with him."

She frowned. "Why are you bringing him now, Mother?"

The Spirit of motherhood eyed her. "He has come into power, my child. He regained his throne. He won his battle against Ris'hin. Did you not see this by the early setting of winter?"

She gaped at Amhika. Being a Guardian did not mean knowing everything. This was one of the few things she never knew. "I thought the heir had accepted his fate. Not this."

"That too." Amhika stood. "His mother had enough faith in him. She knew he would bow his head to Fate one day or other."

She chuckled. "Don't mother always know?"

"That is why I breathe freely child. Lovers, friends and even children leave. But mothers? We never abandon you. We are the last one to lose hope in you."

She stood up and faced Amhika. "One mother hated while the other loved."

"I hope you know who is who." Her eyes danced in amusement.

"One to die, while the other lives," Ar'kela said. "Both cannot survive in this battle. No two knives can be in the same sheath."

"But do you know who is who?" Amhika pressed on. "I hope you do. It was, after all, you who prayed."

"Yes. I know." She lowered her gaze. "But the pain I felt from the other is too much."

"It was his past sins, Ar'kela," she said. "It is the way of maintaining the balance of his soul."

"Thank you for hearing me out," she said. "I do not know what might have happened if you had not come."

"For more than twelve thousand years you soul has been serving us, tirelessly," Amhika said. "It was a small way to repay what we owe to you. Your friend had died tonight. You wanted to spill it out to someone. Had Kacela been here, then you would not even bother us."

She grinned sheepishly. "About that..."

"I did want to know how you were doing, Ar'kela." Amhika's brown eyes were warm. "I was glad that she was not here. If she was here, then I would not have the chance to speak with you."

"Seems planned to me." She jested.

The Spirit was about to answer her, but the light began to dissipate. The darkness loomed again and the hymns the people were singing had long stopped. The winds stopped chiming the silver bells.

"Seems Kel'ane found me again." Amhika sighed. "I will drive her away."

"You will do no such thing," Ar'kela growled. "You may be a Spirit, ranked way above me, but this time you will listen to me. Kel'ane cannot and will not reach you while I live. This is a promise, Mother."

She saw Amhika was stunned. "Go and be safe, Mother. You let me cry on your shoulders tonight. You took the burden off my soul, this is the least thing I could do for you."

"What did I say about never see what a mother does as a work when it concerns her child?" Amhika asked, a smile playing on her lips.

"I know, but you are far more important than anyone else now." She said solemnly. "If mothers lost their hope, then everything will crumble."

"Do you want me to flee?" she asked.

"Not exactly to flee, but I want you alive." Ar'kela cocked her head and drew her twin blades out. "I will take care of Kel'ane. Now stay safe, Mother."

Giving her one last hug, Amhika disappeared. The fragrance left with her yet the flowers were fresh. She knew what the Spirit had tried to tell her. Hope.

She stepped out of the shrine and cleaned her face. She saw the abandoned streets. No one was out. Even if she revealed herself no one would know.

She smirked. Her heart was light and bright. Though her path was not visible ahead of her, she knew she would venture into the unknown.

"Come out Kel'ane!" she screamed. "Fight me!"

The darkness did come out. Not like Nyz'ck. But more or like an assassin, she came. Ar'kela admired her guts. She came with her original form, not the messenger.

She circled her blades, looking at her phantom eyes. Soulless depths that spoke of anguish and misery. She was the most feared one among all the Veymroth, the Dark entities. Because Kel'ane killed hope where it dared blossom.

Her enemy sneered. "Let out weapon dance, shall we?"

"Your wish."

Ar'kela advanced forward, letting her blades clash with Kel'ane's blade. The sound was never more musical to her ears.

Hope that would do.

Also, when I wrote about females being leaders, I am not being a feminist. (I am one though) I read in a research paper that women tend to be emotionally stable. No harm was done, people!

Hope you might share your thoughts.

Don't forget to vote, share and follow!

~ Quill