Hold on to the heart

Everything was so fast. All of a sudden, there was an incredible emptiness and a deafening silence. Jäwell had left the world, he rushed to the boat of Dante and took the passage to the darkness, leaving Tarim alone to rule the world.

The new leader of the Ombrae had taken his place. 

Tarim flew to the top of the castle, he landed on the highest tower to look at what happened and state the chaos that was left. Jäwell left, and he left a desolate world. People were not crying anymore but the wind blew and transported their weeping. 

Everywhere, there was only sadness and despair. Tarim had a long sigh, he was affected by what he was in front of him, much more than he would like to. Lifeless bodies were lying on the floor while relatives tried to find them. The most disturbing thing was that there were no ruins. The shadows had restored everything, yet, the heart of the ombrae had been ravaged deeply and this was shown. 

Tarim roared, he roared for the people to raise their heads in his direction. He roared to give them hope that someone was going to help them. But he roared mostly to vent his pain. He knew, now, what Jäwell had been feeling all this time. 

As the ruler of the world, Tarim was now connected to the matter of the Ombrae. He could sense every breath, every step that was made, he could hear every whisper, and feel the suffering of the damned living here. The dragon sighed heavily and told himself, "I am going to be crazy."

Then, as he was lost in his thoughts, Tarim heard steps in his back. Someone he didn't feel came to join him on the isolated roof. When he turned his gigantic head, he saw someone unexpected.

The man was tall, and large on the shoulders. He was elegant and his coat was richly decorated. The sound of his leather boots resonated slightly on the roof. Tarim focused on the diamonds sparkling on a leather lace, six of them, perfectly lined on the band hanging to his belt. The man took it in his hands and spoke calmly.

"It intrigues you, I can see it."

Tarim nodded, he didn't know who he was, yet, he felt safe next to him. It was a warm feeling of reassurance that he enjoyed it to its fullest. The man pointed the diamonds with his finger one after the other.

"Six of them, to love them forever. Two are for my brothers, one is for my eternal friend, one for a broken heart, one for a repaired heart," The man took a break and sighed, "And one for a son I abandoned. Tridjan, Archanium, Zuline, Tara, Miroïr, and Jäwell."

Tarim tilted his head, his internal voice echoing in the minds of those next to him, "You are Zarkhaïm."

Zarkhaïm smiled, "I see you heard about me?"

"I eavesdropped when we met Zuline, nothing much," the dragon answered, "You are the one at the origin of this power."

Zarkhaïm acknowledged, "Yes, I am the shadows, the first one, and you, my dear dragon, you are my successor."

"What for? Now you are here you don't need me, you can take back your throne."

"I can't," The king took a deep breath, "But I will not make the same mistake twice. I will help you to control it, I will teach you."

There was an incredible guilt in Zarkhaïm's voice. When Jäwell became prince of the Ombrae, Zarkhaïm was nowhere to be found. The king refused to show off, still too hurt by the situation with Miroïr. The fact that Jäwell died on the battlefield, falling into Archanium's trap and pushing Zarkhaïm to make the wrong decisions to transform Miroïr by himself had made him emotionally unstable. 

Losing Miroïr in the tower, in exile, was the hardest thing he had to do and outlive. It was a constant pain he was bearing as a punishment for his selfishness, but, to continue in his mistakes, he had abandoned the Ombrae and abandoned Jäwell. Letting him alone when he needed him the most. Zarkhaïm had a low head as he recalled how Jäwell had to figure out everything by himself without the guidance of his elder.

Between Miroïr and Jäwell, the choice was made, and it was unfair. Especially after all the sacrifices Jäwell made all his life, all this to be rejected, alone in the dark. The king turned himself, his aura was incredibly powerful and imposing respect. Tarim wanted to bow in submission in front of such an unreal being. 

Zarkhaïm spread his wings and took off, making a quick sign to Tarim to follow. The dragon didn't wait and obeyed without asking any questions. The feeling of peace and well-being was too good to renounce. 

They flew over the world, Tarim knew these routes already as he made them before with Talim on his back. Yet, now, he was alone with the most powerful being in the shadows. Tarim was in awe and admiration as he followed Zarkhaïm. 

The king led him to a crack in the surface of the world, he rushed inside, without slowing down and Tarim thought for a moment he would never fit. He closed his eyes as he followed Zarkhaïm, not wanting to stop himself and miss such an opportunity but, also, terrified. 

The rift was long and narrow, and the air was thin. Tarim had difficulties moving his wings, he ended up almost blocked. Zarkhaïm stopped when he noticed the path was too small for the big dragon. The king came and smiled, he placed a hand over his massive head and Tarim felt his body changing.

He was terrified and horrified as he could sense his tail diminishing, his eyes and head becoming so little he could barely understand how it was not falling. The world around looked gigantic from this point of view. 

It needed just a short time, Zarkhaïm grabbed Tarim's paw, but this time this was not a paw. 

Tarim had a human form. He felt Zarkhaïm's hand on his and gulped in shock. The sensation of having skin without scales, two little wings, and a minuscule body was weird. Tarim didn't even know how to move with this thing. He was naked and the rocks around were hurting him when he was falling on them.

Tarim tried to flap his wings, he eventually managed after falling for at least two hundred meters right in the direction of the bowels of the world. Zarkhaïm continued his journey, this time followed by Tarim in a human body. 

The two men went more and more down, and an incredible wave of cold made Tarim's skin goosebumps. He still didn't dare to ask questions but when they eventually arrived where Zarkhaïm wanted to lead him, Tarim had wide-open eyes. 

In front of him was a long stone bridge, allowing a path between two surfaces over a kind of lake. On the opposite of them, on the second platform, were stairs and an altar. This was the tomb of someone, something. They walked to the other side and Tarim only wanted to run away. 

As he saw the lake, he understood that there was no water. It was not even shadows, it was… something else. The shadows were alive, Tarim stopped a moment to look at the substance with interest but Zarkhaïm grabbed him by the arm quickly. The king pulled him in a very short reflex, yet, Tarim had the time to see the figure of someone trying to reach for him. 

His melting body slid on the bridge and returned, defeated, to its place. Tarim had a shocked expression, especially after seeing that Zarkhaïm had been genuinely scared. Was it so dangerous for the King himself to have fear? 

Tarim followed as they came back to moving, he was looking all around from the side of his eye and could see hands trying to reach the surface while taking support on the head of the others. It was a terrible view. 

They arrived on the other side, this path had felt like an eternity itself. Zarkhaïm bowed to the altar and paid his homage. Tarim imitated him, not knowing what it was about. Zarkhaïm turned to the lake and said in a cold and terrifying voice.

"This is the heart of the Ombrae. This is the source of your power. They are your shadows."

Zarkhaïm took a step in front of them, letting his hand fall to the side with a sorrowful look.

"They are the reason why I can't be the King anymore. They are your weapons, your support, but mostly, they are a part of you. By having hope and noble intentions, they will obey and become soft."

Tarim swallowed as he slowly understood the situation, "But if I lose control, they will ravage the world as Jäwell did, won't it?"

Zarkhaïm nodded, "It is exact. They will follow your emotions."

Tarim looked at the lake, there were waves and a lot of agitation, even if he was reassured in the presence of Zarkhaïm, there was a certain death in this place that gave an incredible ambiance. Tarim asked the question but he was not sure he wanted to know the answer.

"Are they… alive?" He said slightly shaking, knowing the answer when he crossed the lost look of a young woman.

"They were, they died, they are the ones who were too evil to join the other side and too damned to be reborn and live with us. They are fury, rage, despair, hate, and greed. They are the banished, the forgotten. Those we don't remember their names because they have none anymore. They are the reason the world exists in shades of black."

After these words, Tarim had the biggest chill he ever had.