The final chapter of the Grimoire: Elena’s Requiem…

Quietly, Elena lay upon the snow, her blood slowly pooling underneath and around her. The air seemed to slow to crawl and each breath hurt more than the last, like knives into her heart. That perhaps, maybe, not breathing was better.

Now, she felt within herself, a great many things. Sorrow. Regret. Pain. A lot of pain. But also, fear. The clergy of Sophia preached constantly of an elysian paradise for those who were pure of spirit, and they also spoke of, perhaps in exaggeration, an empty and passionless void for those who had sinned against their Goddess of Light and Life, and more so for the servants of Amon.

Her phylactery was ready. Sabik’s demise had all but confirmed her worthiness of the Grimoire’s final chapter. She could see, from the bottom of her bloodied gaze, the shifting shades of purple light enveloping her ruby necklace, a clear sign of the Dark Goddess’s blessing upon her soul. That she, Elena de L’Enfer, Countess of Eldia, was now fully worthy of becoming a Lich.

It would have been a joyous day, surely. But now, all she could feel within herself was disgust, and despair. Everyone was dead, even those who had believed in her, led on by promises of wealth and power beyond measure. They had all gotten themselves a traitor’s due, no less than hers. Death, and nothing more. She had yet to join them, for truly, it was unlikely she could claim her prize in her current state, now that she had been left bloodied and broken by the very powers she had sought to command, damning everyone and everything she had ever loved.

And perhaps, it was better this way. The irony was not lost on her.

“Elena…”

Elena froze up. It was Grinnaux’s voice, wracked heavily with pain. There were footsteps upon the snow, trudging erratically towards her slowly but surely with every passing second. Eventually, she could see him knelt by her side.

“Brother…”

“Takes… more than a butter knife to kill me,” Grinnaux rasped. “Stupid girl.”

Elena tilted her head sidewards, if only to look at her older brother one final time. He had a hand pressed against his chest, upon a place all too familiar just moments before. The sight of it, and the weight of it all, was too much to bear.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, I…”

“No… you’re not. At least, not yet.”

“Brother…” Elena begged desperately, as tears rolled down her cheek. “Please don’t hate me…”

“Hate you? We’re both gonna die here. Unless…”

“Save yourself…”

With a painful grimace, Grinnaux shook his head.

“Stupid girl.”

Helplessly, Elena watched on as a sphere of golden light coalesced upon her brother’s fingertips.

“That’s a…”

“Healing spell. You were never good at that school of magic… weren’t ya?”

“No, don’t do this…”

Wordlessly, Grinnaux brought the healing light to bear upon Elena’s wounds. Its warmth sunk into her chest, and soon enough, the pain within her turned to warm serenity, and she found the strength within her to breathe deeply of the cold air around her, once again.

“I can’t believe this…” Elena rasped, tearfully. “You’re still willing to love me… even after…”

“Silly, silly Elena…!” Grinnaux teased, as he collapsed upon the bloody snow beside her. “I'll always love you, no matter who you are, or what you become...”

He then tilted his head towards his little sister and laughed bitterly, coughing up blood that splattered all over the snow and her bloodied face in little spots of red.

“No matter what you do, you’re always my little sister…”

“But why…?”

Truly, why would he? And yet, he had. Even now, Elena could not believe what was happening, and what had happened. Healing magic required the use of one’s lifeforce to replenish the energies of another, and Grinnaux, despite what she had done so callously to him, had willingly paid the ultimate price for her foolishness. For her ascension, for her life’s work and all that it amounted to. Despite the fights and the arguments, despite the ugliness of the past, he had done it.

“I’m a fool, that’s bloody why,” Grinnaux answered. “But then... who else can I love, but you?”

“Brother, I…”

Before Elena could finish her sentence, she found herself silenced by a trembling finger placed gently upon her lips. Clutching at her brother’s arm as tightly as she could, she looked desperately at him as he grimaced at her, his fingers slowly and gently caressing her cheek.

“Persist, won’t ya? I don’t know… what evil you’ve brought upon us all, but you have to… make it right. Don’t make all of this… end up for nothing…”

Before Elena could answer, Grinnaux fell silent with the rest of Eldia. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, only to find herself voiceless. Her wounds were gone, but even then, the blood remained. Just as the pain did, somewhere else. And it hurt. It really did.

Once again, she looked upon the darkness glowing within her phylactery, this ruby necklace from her brother, from a time so long ago. Tearfully, she stood up and set her gaze towards the Château de L’Enfer, towards her study where her fate awaited her in the elixir that would end her mortal life and begin her immortal existence, as decreed by Amon for those who would become a Lich, ever worthy of her blessing.

“Don’t… make all of this end up for nothing…”

Eternity. Mastery over the secrets of magic beyond the mortal cusp, and dominion over the souls of men and elves, was it not? Whatever. It was cold, now. Very cold.