Chapter 2 - A Familiar Face

                                    

                                          
Darrel made a stew. It warmed her and relaxed her and filled her to the brim. The thick broth was rich and creamy, with a hint of spice that made Alie's mouth burn just a little. He claimed it was one of his grandmother's recipes, though he'd had to substitute a few ingredients since the Realm had some different herbs than they had back home. "But I think she'd like it this way," he said, staring into their campfire. "She'd say it's got zing to it."
   "I'm sure she'd be glad you're keeping her memory alive by making it," Alie said gently. 
   Darrel chuckled. "Just as long as I didn't share the recipes with her sister. Those two had a cooking rivalry so strong it almost made them enemies. Which is funny, because they were like best friends about everything else. But the second someone brought up cooking? That was it. The two would go at each other like cats."
   "Seriously?" Alie scraped the last of her stew into her spoon. "How'd they deal with holidays then?"
   "Well, Christmas we celebrated separately. Gram's sister had three kids and a bunch of grandkids that all would go over to her house for dinner, and she'd cook a giant feast for them. But Gram and Gramps and I would eat Gram's famous pot roast and then drive around the city looking at Christmas lights. It was the best." 
   Alie set down her bowl and spoon with a smile. "That does sound like fun."
   "Thanksgiving was the crazy holiday, because everyone would get together. When I was little, I remember Gram and her sister arguing over the phone about who would make what dish and how it needed to be prepared. Finally everyone got sick of their bickering and made a new rule: neither of them were allowed to cook for Thanksgiving dinner."
   "Really?" Alie's grin grew. "Who cooked, then?"
   "Gramps did some of it. Mostly Gram's sister's kids did, though. To keep Gram and her sister from complaining about any of the recipes, they never cooked traditional Thanksgiving food. Instead of a turkey we had pork or cornish hen; one year we even had grilled steaks. There'd be roasted vegetables and stuffed potatoes, instead of stuffing, and corn dogs for the little kids. And we always had brownies for dessert, because they would even fight over the recipe of the pumpkin pie."
   Laughing, Alie shook her head. "That must have been crazy."
   "It was the best." He turned to her with a lopsided grin, one so wide it creased the corners of his eyes. She loved it when he smiled like that. Like he wasn't trying to trick her into liking him; like he wasn't trying too hard. He was just being himself - his true self - showing a side of himself he showed to no one but her. 
   Her breath caught in her throat. It had been a long time, she realized, since the two of them had been so alone together. For so long, Michael had joined them around the fire. Even after he'd returned home, they hadn't been able to steal away. During the day, they traveled or fought Evil. At night, they kept the company of those who dwelled in whatever town they'd made it to, and then they collapsed into bed in separate rooms in a random inn, only to rise early the next morning and do it all over again. 
   The last time they'd been alone like this, they'd almost kissed. 
   As her cheeks turned pink at the memory, Alie ducked her chin into her cloak. Her heart began to race, and a warmth that had nothing to do with the stew blossomed across her skin. 
   Darrel nudged her gently with his arm. "She would have liked you."
   "Hmm?" Alie lifted her head. 
   "Gram." Darrel watched her with eyes half lowered, a lazy, but genuine smile upon his lips. "She would have liked you a lot."
   Alie thought her heart skipped a beat. Though they hadn't moved even an inch closer to each other, he suddenly felt very, very close. His eyes sparkled in the firelight. His hair lay in wild tufts across his head. His jaw was speckled with the shadow of prickly stubble. 
   A breeze brushed across her face. Suddenly, she wished it was his breath upon her skin, instead. 
   She felt lightheaded. Far too softly, she said, "You're just saying that because you like me."
   His grin turned sultry. "I do like you. I like you very much." 
   As he cupped her cheek, she almost forgot how to breathe. His surprisingly warm fingers soothed away the icy sting of the chilly night air. They slid back into her hair, sweeping strands away from her face. 
   His gaze flicked back and forth between her eyes. "But I'm not just saying that," he promised, as he began to lean toward her. "Gram really would have liked you."
   Alie licked her lips, causing his gaze to flick down to them for a moment. His smile widened, as if she knew exactly what thoughts swam wildly about in her head. She flushed all over again. 
   He chuckled, and leaned in closer. 
   "Why... why do you say that?" she asked. It was getting difficult to speak. But she felt that if she didn't ask now, the answer would be lost to the night. 
   Pausing, Darrel swept his fingers across her forehead. He trailed them down her cheek and over her chin. His touch was soft; tender; reverent. "Because she always wanted someone for me who could stand up for herself. Someone who knew what she wanted, and wasn't afraid to do whatever it took to make it happen. Someone who wouldn't be afraid to call me out if I did something stupid, but still be willing to forgive me afterward." 
   Something in his expression changed. His smile turned serious. The playfulness disappeared, leaving behind only raw, open emotion. Longing and hope turned his hooded eyes bright. "She wanted someone for me who could challenge me to be a better person than I am. And that's exactly what you've done."
   As his hand slid into her hair, cupping the side of her head, Alie found herself leaning toward him. She watched him with wide, wondering eyes, even as her heart pounded in her ears and her breath drew shorter. 
   Darrel's throat bobbed. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, Alie. When we met, I was a lying, cheating thief. Now I spend my days fighting beside the Realm's greatest hero, helping save thousands of lives. You've turned my whole life around."
   She didn't know what to say. She didn't know if she even should say anything. She just knew that she wanted whatever was coming. That she was ready for it. Trembling, she leaned into his touch. 
   Darrel's forehead nearly touched hers. His breath washed over her face, smelling faintly of the stew's spice. He watched her like an astronomer watched the stars. "You've changed everything for me," he whispered. 
   Alie's stomach flipped. She didn't have the breath to say it, but he'd changed everything for her, too. Before him, she'd just been a bookworm who dreamed of something more. If she'd never met him, she wouldn't even be the Ultimate Wielder. She owed him so much. 
   A breathless kind of smile returned to his lips. "I know it hasn't been the right moment before," he said softly, "but can I kiss you?"
   She had never wanted anything more in all her life. With a heady breath, Alie nodded. 
   Darrel's smile grew. He gently tugged her closer, tilting her face to meet his. His eyelashes lowered. The air between them tingled. 
   Alie closed her eyes. 
   Without warning, all the magic in the air fled. 
   A wave of Evil power crashed over her so intensely, it stole the breath from her lungs. Before she could even jolt in suprise, a large hand grabbed her around the middle, yanking her back against a firm, armored chest. Another hand clapped firmly over her eyes. Despair, agony, heartache, and loss overwhelmed her from the power that poured over her, weighing her down. 
   She thrashed. Magic rushed back to her with a panicked thought, swirling around her hand. With it, she grabbed the arm wrapped around her middle, casting back the darkness. 
   The two powers clashed with a boom that shook the canyon walls. 
   "Alie!" Darrel's desperate voice called out to her from somewhere much too far away. His voice sounded panicked, high and shrill in a way she'd never heard from him before. 
   "I'm fine," she lied, reaching for the Ultimate at her side. 
   Another set of hands grabbed her arm, keeping her hand just out of reach of the blade. 
   The Evil power intensified. It latched onto her consciousness and tried to pull her into sleep. It beckoned her into a nightmare, one she knew all too well, because she had been trapped in its clutches once before. 
   Terror crawled up her spine. There was only one person left in the Realm who could pull her away from herself like that. 
   Her captor chuckled in her ear, confirming her suspicions. "Hello, Wielder," Commander Sole purred.
   Someone latched something around her wrist. Magic instantly fled from her, scattering away from the commander's power in fear. She reached for it desperately, even as she writhed and kicked and pulled and struggled. But the magic was gone. And the commander's grip held fast. 
   "Be still," he commanded. Her body instantly obeyed, freezing as solidly as ice. His power controlled her now. Only her mind still had the ability to fight back. She imagined shoving his power out of her head with thick battering rams and multiple layers of shields. 
   There was nothing else she could do. Not with a magic-restricting cuff locked around her wrist. 
   "That's better." Slowly, the hands on her arm let her go. The commander's hand, still covering her eyes, peeled away. His power blindfolded her, fighting against her mind for control over her. 
   His other arm remained locked firmly around her middle. 
   She wished she could curse. How could she have forgotten about Commander Sole? He was the very reason the worlds needed healing. He'd poisoned over half of them so he could collect the Realm's magic for the emperor. Once the emperor had been defeated, the commander had sworn to kill her for stopping him. He'd tried to do so on multiple occasions, but so far had failed. Then he'd vanished into thin air. She'd thought he'd given up. 
   She'd been so wrong. 
   Anger boiled within her blood. How dare he attack her now, when things were just starting to go right. How dare he try to steal her away from everything she had accomplished. How dare he take away the peace she had fought so hard to obtain. 
   How dare he interrupt her first kiss! 
   She reached for the magic like she never had before. With the magic-restricting cuff, she wasn't supposed to be able to feel it. But she could feel it, faintly waiting just out of reach, as if it knew it would be safe with her, even in the face of such danger. Her sensitivity to it was so much stronger now. A simple cuff couldn't keep her from a power that seemed to flow through her very veins. 
   She was the Ultimate Wielder. She wouldn't let herself be defeated so easily. 
   Against her back, the commander seemed to let out a relieved breath. "Subdue him," he ordered firmly. 
   Alie's breath caught in her throat. Darrel. 
   She heard him panting heavily, and several boots scraped against the ground in a scuffle. Then a loud "Ooof!" rang through the air as Darrel took a punch to the gut. Just like that, Alie knew it was over. 
   She wished she could scream. She knew it wouldn't do any good, but she desperately wanted to beg the commander to let Darrel go. Even if it meant sacrificing herself to do so. 
   She needed magic! Fighting with everything she had, she reached and reached for the power that fueled her. If she could just get a tiny bit of it...
   A subtle, pleasant warmth pierced the chill of the commander's power. It wasn't much, but it was enough. Alie channeled the magic into her arm, willing her muscles to move. 
   Slowly, her hand reached closer to the Ultimate. 
   "You're too late," Darrel said, his voice dark and deep and hoarse. "The magic's already been returned to the Realm."
   "Be quiet!" an unfamiliar voice commanded. Probably one of the commander's elite fighters: one of his Phantoms. Darrel took another hit with a grunt. 
   "I'm not here for the magic," Commander Sole replied patiently. The satisfaction in his tone told Alie that he believed he'd already won. 
   Darrel coughed. "Whatever else you're here for, we're not giving it to you."
   "Revenge isn't something that can be given to you," the commander said. "It is something that you take."
   Alie strained her fingers. The gloved tips brushed the Ultimate's hilt. 
   It was all the touch she needed. Magic from the weapon, awake and alert in the presence of such dark power, rushed into her arm. Her senses flooded with golden light, filling up the spaces where the commander's magic threatened to overtake her. It pushed him out of her head. It broke the blindfold over her eyes. It swirled around her, giving her control of her body once again. 
   Alie threw herself forward, tipping the commander's balance off center. She grabbed the Ultimate firmly. Magic flowed through her freely. With a roar, she drew the blade free. 
   The commander did not let her go. His power crackled all around her, snapping at the magic that tried to shove him away. Its oily strands wrapped like vines around her legs and arms, trying to subdue her. 
   She tried to swing her blade. The commander caught her arm, holding her in place. 
   Her hold on the magic slipped. Though the magic-restricting cuff couldn't fully cut her off from magic's touch, it did make it infinitely harder to keep control of it. She grit her teeth and strained to retain control, even as she pulled in vain on the commander's grip. 
   This wasn't working. The cuff was too powerful. She had maybe a few more moments before the magic would slip away again. And this time, she knew the commander wouldn't risk her fighting back a second time. The second he had an opportunity, his power would come barreling down on her like a flood. 
   There would be no escaping it a second time. 
   A glance revealed that Darrel knelt before the commander, forced to the ground by the six - six! - Phantoms that surrounded him. A magic-restricting cuff clung to his wrist. He held his arms to his chest. Agony caused him to cringe. One of the Phantoms held a sword to his throat, already drawing blood. 
   Alie made a split decision. She knew there would be no escape for her. Sole had too tight of a grip on her. But maybe she could help Darrel. 
   Her chest tightened. She grit her teeth. Magic concentrated as best as she could reach it in a bright ball before her. 
   She met Darrel's gaze. His eyes blazed with fury for their captors, and worry for her. 
   She swallowed. "I love you," she whispered. 
   His eyes widened. 
   Then the magic exploded. 
   The darkness scattered. Shadows vanished from the ground. Commander Sole's power shrank back and cracked. The Phantoms lifted their arms to their faces, shielding their eyes from the blinding light that magic had become. 
   In the next moment, when the magic winked away, Darrel was gone.
   And so, she confirmed with a squeeze of her hand, was the Ultimate. She blinked back tears at the loss, but she knew that if Sole had her, she might not survive. The Ultimate couldn't afford to fall into his hands. Someone had to carry on her quest; Darrel would ensure her legacy didn't die with her. 
   As the magic fled from her once again, Commander Sole's power washed over her anew. It consumed her almost immediately. She didn't even try to fight back. It blinded her and assaulted her mind like a sudden growth of thorns, piercing her emotions until they bled with the despair and hopelessness he shoved into her. 
   His grip on her tightened. As her body betrayed her once more, freezing under his control, he folded her into his unrelenting embrace. "You'll pay for that," he growled into her ear. 
   Then he gave her the sweet release of unconsciousness, and her mind floated away into the dark of his power, left to drown.