Beautiful Hell (Draft 1)

For almost one hundred years, a brutal and bloody struggle for dominance between the kingdom of Ra'Ziel and the plains of Torath has torn the world asunder, raining death and destruction upon the earth. But this war is coming to an end. With only a few descendants of both royal lines living, will there finally be peace? Alexandra Ra'Ziel wants nothing more than to end the feud that took her older brothers from her, but Tristan Torath has different plans. He wants - he needs - retribution for the wrongs he has suffered. And so their story begins. Because anyone can find vengeance, but only a rare few achieve true justice.

Ok yeah, so here's the thing. I'm rewriting this story, so anybody who wants to read the new chapters (as I edit and revise them) can find them on my page. The Movella is titled Beautiful Hell (Re-imagined). And yeah, it's way way way better than this one, but also way more graphic too.


20. Tristan Torath IV

            When Tris woke, he was spooning Ali. They were both stretched out on the floor of his tent, and his eyes felt grainy. With a pang, Tris realized that it hadn’t been a dream. Jasper was dead, and the secret they shared for so many years was out in the open. Tris wondered how Anzel had reacted to the revelation.

            Now I really have killed all my brothers. Nine bastards, and the only one left is a pathetic waste. I can’t even make a girl love me. Now, everyone is dead. My fault, all my fault. Tris reigned in his rising hysteria. He was done with tears. He was done with weakness.

            Tris stood slowly, wary of waking Ali. His concern, it seemed, was unwarranted, as she was awake already. Her eyes met his, and he saw pity and concern. “Don’t. I don’t need your sympathy. Neither does he.”

            “Tris…” Ali seemed to think better of what she was going to say, and changed the topic. “Tris, what does Nikarae mean?”

            Tris laughed. “It’s just an old story. You never heard it, did you?” When she shook her head, he continued, glad for the distraction.

            “They say that Phylos – that’s the god of horses and eagles and the wild places without men – once took a human lover. Although she was mortal, she was beautiful. So beautiful, in fact, that she made Tyraesi – goddess of the moon and wife of Phylos – jealous. Tyraesi cursed the woman, tearing away all her loveliness in one fell swoop.

            “Of course, by then it was too late. Phylos’ seed had quickened within the woman, and she bore him a daughter. The girl was named Nikarae Inyendi, Beautiful Hell, if you want a literal translation. Nikarae was more beautiful than even her mother, and because of her divine parentage, she was safe from Tyraesi. So the moon-goddess took her away from her mother and raised her among the stars.

“When Nikarae reached maturity, Tyraesi introduced her to Phylos as Tyraesi’s own daughter. Not realizing his folly, Phylos took the half-mortal girl to his bed. Then, after the incestuous deed was done, Tyraesi came to Phylos and told him of Nikarae’s true parentage.

            “Phylos, it is said, was stricken by horror and grief, and threw Nikarae from his halls. Nikarae fell from the heavens, and impaled herself upon the northern mountains. She lies now in the in-between, caught between death and immortality. Forever trapped. That is why the wind sings such a sad song in the mountains. Ylanyos mourns Nikarae. He cries for the beautiful creature, broken and ruined upon the slopes. He cries for a love never confessed, a love never returned.”

            Tris told the end in a whisper. Ali was staring at him, her expression unreadable. Then she started crying.

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