HOME | DD

Description

    “To improve is to change for the better and one cannot become better without change, and yet humanity still tries. There is great opposition to change but there is little opposition to improvements. Everyone seems to want to improve but no one wants to change. Don’t these people of ours understand that something must be sacrificed in order for another to become better?” Trisha said with folded arms.
    The camel’s back rocked steadily as it climbed the sand dune. A light gust of wind tossed sand into Trisha’s face and her companion on the other camel next to her’s coughed.
    “They may not see it like us, Trish, and many more may not want to see the truth, but all of them want a better world. That is good enough for me. I believe their opposition to change stems from their angst of only one life, that everything ends when we die. Our memories fade but our energy returns to the earth and then it is reused. We are born again from our dispersed energy but our memories are gone, fragmented, lost. Perhaps this is why they oppose change, for it is a subconscious effort to retain what is already in their grasp,” Tony replied, letting his words carry into the afternoon air of the desert.
Trisha turned to face her companion of life, her husband, her best friend, and the other half of her alchemic endeavors. Without the other, they would not be able to realize their dreams. Love was only a small part of the equation to their immense teamwork and cohesion. The understanding of each other, the give and take of their partnership was the greatest power they could both wield. This was what made them the greatest alchemists of their time.
    “Perhaps. I’m just afraid we won’t be able to complete the stone before this world erupts into war. Humanity has lost their belief in themselves and now they cling to false beliefs and man-made gods. They fight amongst themselves based on the differences in this belief, and the worst is that they hunt us now. We should hurry. The faster we get to Petra, the better our chances of survival. If we fall, this world falls with us.”
    Tony’s head shook and he laughed, flashing a smile at his wife of twelve years, “Oh Trisha, we’re not that important in whole grand scheme of things. We’re just part of the cycle, and that’s why even if we fall, someone else will undoubtedly fulfill our dream, even if it’s a millennia later. I’m more worried of the false rumors of our stone. They say our stone, this nexus of ours can give immense power and immortality, one that rivals the gods. I only hope that the people realize that the rumors are not true. If they use the stone for the wrong reasons, if they use it for bloodshed, it would be corrupted forever.”
    Trisha moved her camel closer to her husband and held his hand, “Don’t worry Tony, I won’t let that happen, I won’t let them have the stone. Even if it costs me my life.”
    Glints of metal sparkled brightly in the fading sun of the desert’s late afternoon, and Tony turned to stare at Trisha’s two swords tied to her back, one curved and the other straight, both made of silver and inlaid with gems of power.
    “I only hope that you won’t have to draw your swords,” Tony coughs, “because someone always dies when swords are drawn.”
    Petra was once a land of greatness and an empire that dominated the sands. With a palace that was built deep into the mountains and a city that endured the harsh environment of the desert, Petra prospered as a sanctuary and trading hub of the desert cities. Spices of all varieties and fabrics of all colors lined the streets that Trisha and Tony walked through, having left their camels at the outskirt of the city, as per Petra’s customs. The two alchemists had the hood of their travel cloaks pulled up over their heads and walked with their bags hugged tightly to their chests. Trisha’s eyes constantly scanned the crowd around them from under the hood of her cloak and her right hand rested on the pommel of her knife, tied to her waist; using one of her silver swords in such a crowded area, filled with innocents, would mean they could get hurt and Trisha didn’t want to have to answer to a mistake like that again. Next to Trisha, Tony matched her pace and held a map of the area in his hand, studying their route carefully for the entrance of the Guild of Alchemy, one that was hidden for the safety of all. From the corner of her eye, Trisha noticed numerous guards patrolling the streets and it seemed as if the city was one high alert. To Trisha, there was feeling of a storm brewing.
    The real Alchemy of ancient past wasn’t a science and it wasn’t magic, it was raw power, one that lay dormant inside the earth. Alchemists sought to harness this raw power of the earth and use it to improve all of mankind, and so they developed many technologies to harness this power, and none would be more powerful than the stone that Trisha and Tony had developed, a stone that was called The Path. To others, and later to the world, it would be known as the Philosopher’s Stone but The Path wasn’t the exact same stone that legend tells of. The Path was powerful not because of the raw power it held, but the possibilities it could unlock, like building a bridge through life and death; immortality through a transfer of consciousness. To Trisha and Tony, it was to be their eternal bond, and with its activation, they would be together forever. Love and Life will no longer be constrained by Death.
    A large stone door, that looked more like a wall, stood two heads higher than Trisha and the female alchemist stared at the shallow glyphs that adorned the grey surface. The Guild of Alchemy valued secrecy and privacy of its sacred art because it believed that the masses of the world was not ready to wield or understand the power that was unlocked through their practices. Trisha seconded the Guild’s creed of secrecy but Tony believed that improving the world from the shadows would not lead to change, and so he gifted simple alchemic designs to villages, a practice that was met with ire from the guild. If it were not for Trisha views and Tony’s marriage to her, the Guild would have excommunicated him. With a wave of his hand, Tony activated the Glyphs in order of the elemental triads, and the door swung inwards to reveal two masked guards who welcomed them with nods.
    “I’m glad I still remember the Glyphs,” Tony sighed.
    “How could you even forget after all the trips you had to make for that trial years back,” Trisha smirked.
    “Ah, that’s right, the trial of my excommunication. I’m glad it fell through…” Tony hid his head and picked up his pace.
    With a smile on her face, Trisha hurried forward and put her right arm through his left, “Don’t worry, nothing that bad is going to happen this time. Today, we come here as champions.”
    A soft smile spreads on Tony’s lips, “I really do hope so, my dear.”
    The Guild of Alchemy in Petra was built deep into the ground, to keep temperatures cool, and numerous airshafts regulated the flow of air from the outside. Apart from the spacious research centers and labs, Trisha’s favorite location of The Guild of Alchemy in Petra was it’s luxurious inner sanctum, a common area used to hold discussions, and it was lavishly decorated with support from the King of Petra. Gold, amber wood, and exotic materials were sourced from all over the world and used to design the interior of the sanctum. Eastern spices filled the sanctum and the heavy musk invited Trisha and Tony with a gentle warmth. This was the Global Headquarters of Alchemy and it’s importance was the housing of Alchemic records and the Council of Elders, a council of eight respected alchemists that Trisha and Tony had been summoned to meet.
    With further approval from the guards, Trisha and Tony entered the Inner Sanctum and they gasped at the hundreds of Alchemists that filled the place. The Speaker of the Sanctum announced the couple’s arrival and the room fell silent as all the heads of the Alchemists turned to stare at the newly arrived pair, whose names had dominated conversations for months. In far back of the room, a slow clap resounded and then the room erupted into a symphony of claps and smiles as Trisha and Tony were welcomed towards the center of the Inner Sanctum, where the Council sat on velvet chairs.
    “Trisha Delamonntaire and Anthony Vurita’iltide, it is a pleasure to meet you,” said a man who sat in the center of the eight council members.
    Trisha stared at the ninth man of the council and then frowned as she recognized the regalia that the man wore, golden silk and heavily jeweled accessories. The man was the King of Petra and Trisha instinctively bowed her head out of respect. She nudged Tony to follow but her man was too slow to recognize the King, and Tony simply nodded and smiled at the man that was also one of the main benefactors of the Guild. The King sought to attain immortality for him and his family and while the Guild actively worked to provide him a realistic outlook of Immortality, the King never wavered from his insane dreams of living forever.
    “Trisha and Anthony, I do hope you don’t mind the King being here for your presentation. He was quite adamant that he be here to witness this invention of yours. I must say, Anthony, the numerous rumors have made your work truly intriguing. So please, show us,” spoke the elderly but well-built man seated next to the King of Petra.
    The elderly man was the most respected of the council and his name was Vesivir Kilien, a name that Trisha could not forget for it was his vote that kept Tony from being excommunicated. With a deep breath, Tony strode forward and reached into his bag. The Sanctum fell into a tense hush as Tony pulled out a green velvet pouch that had an image of the Guild’s crest stitched in gold silk. Tony grasped The Path and it felt cold in his hands, just as it should be before activation, and he peeled back the velvet pouch to reveal a smooth stone sphere that size of a human head that bore deep intrinsic patterns on its surface. Chattering voices filled the Sanctum once more and Trisha looked around the room as people whispered and speculated on the workings of The Path.
    “This is The Path,” Tony said with an uncanny confidence, “it is an opaque stone sphere made of numerous minerals and crystals but it’s true nature will not be revealed until its activation, like this.”
    Tony grasped The Path in both hands and closed his eyes. The candles of the room flickered and then they were snuffed out, in middle of the room, Tony stood with a glowing ball that pulsed with the brilliance of the sun but the cold of the moon. Trisha looked deeply into The Path and at it’s heart, one that she saw as a star that encompassed all power. The Path was a conduit, an amplifier of the natural energy of the Earth and Tony had designed it to continuously draw on the energy of the earth so as to empower and improve the output of the works of the Alchemists. With The Path, opportunities would open and Tony demonstrated its capabilities.
    “The Path increases our connection to the natural powers of the Earth, it allows us to perform feats that one could not normally accomplish. With the Path, it is simple to conjure fire,” Tony waved his arms and all the candles lighted up instantaneously, to tremendous gasps, “The Path will enable us to design inventions that will bring greatness to the world but it must only be used for the benefit of life. If The Path was used to kill, its purpose would be corrupted and the world will fall into peril.”
    Vesivir stood from his chair and approached Tony, “What do you mean by corrupted?”
    “The Path is a connection between the Earth’s power and man, but if we use this power to defy nature, the Earth itself will start to defy us,” Tony replied.
    The room fell into a frenzy of shouts and arguments as all the Alchemists erupted into debate. Trisha winced and shook her head. What Tony had just said was of a controversial theory that the Earth itself was alive, that it was sentient but yet disconnected from its inhabitants. Even after five years, the theory was rife with controversy. The other council members shouted at other Alchemists and those shouted at Tony, who could only stare at Vesivir with eyes that spoke all truth. The King of Petra sat in his chair and grinned at the sphere, a grin that Trisha shivered at.
    Vesivir smiled, “Anthony, you’re always trouble,” and then with a sigh, Vesiver shouted to the room “Quiet, all of you!”
    Silence greeted Vesivir and he whispered to Tony, “Anthony, what you have created here is of great importance, and its construction must be studied and its applications researched, but then again, it’s power alone can lead to many problems. Not all people are as good natured as us, and even then it will be hard to judge who can wield this.” Vesivir then glanced at the King of Petra who finally stood up from his chair.
    “To help solve all your problems, Vesivir, I would not mind keeping the orb safe in the palace until the Council can reach a decision,” said the King.
    “Sire, there is no need to-“
    “It was not a question, Vesivir, I too am worried that someone may misuse this orb’s power, so please, if you may.”
    Vesivir glanced back at Tony, who nodded slowly and approached the King, guards could be heard tightening their grip on their weapons.
    “It is alright, The Path must first establish a connection to the user and then to the Earth, it will not activate without the Earth accepting the Man,” Tony said, handing the sphere to the King.
    The King of Petra held the sphere and The Path’s luminescent glow faded back to the a dullness of polished stone, deactivated.
    “I see you’ve added a measure of security,” the King of Petra raised his eyebrow.
    “It is not of my doing, it of the Earth’s. One cannot expect to connect to the Earth without first understanding and then respecting its nature.”
    The King stared intensely at Tony, who had not spoken with proper formality, and a tense hush blanketed the room.
    The lips of the King parted to speak but the sudden slam of a door opening turned his head towards the entrance. Palace guards streamed through the crowd and surrounded the King in a circle, all their hands grasped on their swords. Tony was pushed back and Trish grabbed him just in time to stop him from falling backwards onto an advisor who scurried to the King’s side, hastily whispering his words. The King’s eyes widened.
    “What!” the King blurted, “An army at the gates? Whose!”
    “I-I’m not sure sire, they have begun setting up their siege engines,” the advisor shuffled about.
    “Well then, we shall meet them with ours, gather our army and prepare for war!” the King strode hastily towards the door, palace guards chased after him.
    “Oh,” the King stopped and then turned around, heading back towards Tony, “here my dear Alchemist, I shall heed your words. Keep this sphere from harm and from all corruption.”
    Tony nodded and the King smiled before he turned and proceeded back to the door with a final parting of words, “If the worst happens, please, use the sphere to save Petra, to save my people.”
    At the gates, the enemy was a horde of purists, of men who believed that Petra had fallen to corruption, to false gods, and so they were there to deliver their justice to the unbelievers of their god, in the form of death.

    It was a week of fighting and screaming as puritan soldiers beat themselves against the walls amidst the hail of arrows from archers and stone boulders from siege engines. Blood and burning corpses seemed to fill the air and then on the eight day, the eastern wall broke and the puritan troops streamed into the city. Petra was not built with war in mind and its builders had not considered being surrounded by an army and had not built emergency escape routes. For a week, the city of Petra tried to evacuate all of its citizens via the royal escape tunnels but progress was slow and when the eastern wall fell with a resounding crack, Trish, who was aiding the evacuation, was caught in the middle of stampeding citizens.
    Bodies upon bodies slammed into Trish as she tried to push back against the torrent of citizens. Shields pushed back the citizens and hands grabbed Trish up onto a ledge. Trish turned and the Captain of the Guard, Renra Muzir, nodded with a grim smile.
    “This is madness, I will post some guards here to stabilize the flow but the King himself has engaged the puritan troops in streets, and I cannot spare any more men,” Muzir shouted.
    “Is there no other way out?” Trish shouted back over the roar of the crowd that deafened her ears.
    Muzir pulled Trish down the upper corridors of the palace and towards a quieter area. There the Captain of the Guard spoke with a quieter voice, “The alchemists have retreated to the throne room and are preparing to barricade themselves in there. I have heard that they are still divided on whether they will join the fight, so you best hurry, my lady. But truly, if you can convince them to fight, we might save the day.”
    Trish’s eyes turned towards the floor and then she looked back at the Captain of the Guard’s worried face, “I am not sure. We Alchemists strive to improve the world, but we believe that we can achieve without violence. If we use our inventions for war, there is no telling when it will all end.”
    “This is war, my lady, what are those swords on your back for, if not for killing?” The Captain of the Guard pushed Trish away and turned back towards the rampaging crowd, “If we do not get more aid, all of Petra will fall, and everyone will certainly perish in the flames of these puritan bastards.”
    The Captain barked orders at his men and Trish closed her eyes for a moment before she hurried down the stairs and ran towards the throne room.
    At the palace courtyard, hundreds of citizens stood, some crying and many others staring at their city in flames. Even Trish, who was hurrying, stopped and gasped at the great flames that spewed thick black smoke which covered the sky. With clench of her fist, Trish shook her head and sprinted towards the throne room.
    With barely any breath left, Trish reached the entrance of the throne room and found its massive doors closed. Outside, a robed man and stood behind several guards who banged their fists against the door. The man turned and when Trish’s eyes adjusted to the dimness of the entrance, she realized that it was Tony. The Path, the sphere, was held in his arms, cradled like a baby and it glowed with a fiery menace. Trish ran to Tony and embraced him, taking his head into her hands, “Oh, Tony, what happened here?”
    Tony trembled and his eyes were a watery red, “The Guild refused to help, they argued and for a first, I shouted back, but the majority had voted for inaction. My words failed to sway them and they decided to barricade themselves in the throne room. They kicked me out, Trish. They blamed me for all of their trouble. They said that I was what brought the army here.”
    Trish held Tony tight but her own eyes were set ablaze, and with anger, she strode towards the doors and hammered on them. “You cowards! Instead of fighting for your lives and your futures, you choose to hide behind locked doors that will eventually fall.”
    A voice spoke through the tight crack of throne room doors, it sounded like Vesivir, “Trisha, my dear, you know all too well why we chose this path. Our hands must be sullied by blood, lest our beings be corrupted. If death shall take us, then so be it. Be safe, my dear, I hope you escape our fate. Now go, leave us, we must join our hands in silence and reflection.”
    Trish screamed and flailed against the door till she wept and fell to floor on her knees. The guards stared at Trish and they too closed their eyes. Tony shuffled to Trish and kneeled with her. Trish turned at looked at her husband and Tony simply nodded.
    “What will we do, Tony?” Trish gulped.
    “What every human has always done, we must survive,” Tony whispered.
    “Even if it means we break our oath as Alchemists and use our inventions for war?” Trish’s hands shook.
    “Even if it means that, my love.” Tony said with a solemn voice.
    Trish turned slowly towards Tony and the two alchemists stared into each other’s eyes, remembering and keeping their love locked tight within their hearts. With hands locked together, Trish and Tony rose and turned to the guards, “Our fellow Alchemists have chosen to honor their choice of non-violence and have resigned themselves to their fates, but we will not. Today, Petra stands on the brink of death, and there is no way out. Citizens stampede through the royal escape tunnels but it is not wide enough for all of them. Their bodies clog up the tunnels and so, we are left here but we not die standing idle. The army at the gates have grown thin from your efforts and we can fight our way out of this. Come, let us join your King, and let us fight for the future of all of Petra!”
    The soldiers cheered and they raised their swords in salute, and one of the guards took off his helmet and said, “My lady, I am Sergeant Dorvarka, and I believe in your words, so I will follow. We must save the King.“ Trish smiled and then she commanded, “Good, gather all the men you can spare, we will need everyone.”
    Sergeant Dorvarka turned and he commanded his men to find the others. Trish turned to Tony once more and with their hands together, she said, “No matter what, we’re coming out of this alive, I promise you.”
    Tony remained silent and with a tense slowness, he reached for Trish and brought her head closer to his. Tony whispered, “I will always love you,” and then he kissed her head.
    The men returned and their numbers swelled two-fold and after counting, Sergeant Dorvaka turned to Trish, “Forty-eight of us, my lady.”
    Trish wiped the tears from her eyes and then she drew one of her jeweled sword and the men all stared at deadly silver that shined with flawless beauty.
    “Then, let us go and grasp destiny by the neck.”

All of the royals guards had charged with the King of Petra towards the breach at the fallen eastern wall. A whole battalion of royal guards, three hundred of the greatest warriors the King of Petra could find, and every one of them would die for him. Three hundred men had fought with him and they held their ground as the forces of the puritan enemies streamed into the city with frenzied shouts and their prayers to false gods. Royals guards, fully armored with the toughest metal and armed with the sharpest weapons clashed with the thousands of ill-equipped puritan troops. For every one Royal Guard, hundreds of Puritan soldiers died but even the greatest warrior is not immune to the fatigue of war, and one by one, the Royal Guards were taken down and killed by the crowd of enemies whose numbers never seemed to dwindle. Every street was another defensive position and a deadly brawl, and the King of Petra was always afraid, for he had always considered himself a great tactician, but now, he questioned if he could even win. To the King of Petra, this fight was quality against quantity, but the opposing side never seemed to reduce in quantity whereas his own troops were dropping with quality as time passed. “Impossible,” was the word that screamed continuously in the King’s mind. Pushed back, the King and his royal guards were forced back towards the town square, where the citizens who had yet to escape were encamped. At that moment, The King of Petra knew that he was backed into a corner because he could never let his citizens die, and so, he gathered all his courage and faced the tide of shouting death that was the hundreds of Puritan troops with the fifty royal guards he had left and the handful of city guards that rallied to his side.
    Trish’s sword cleaved through crowd of Puritan troops with a malicious energy that caused the enemy to cower in fear. The city guards streamed in and cut down the enemy troops that were to slow to run away. With a frown, Tony ignited The Path and used it to block the end of the street by forming a wall, three heads high, out of the stone on the streets. With another wave of her sword, Trish unleashed a wave of energy and it cut through the last of the Puritan troops that had rushed towards them with swords and spears raised to kill. The gems of Trish’s sword glowed with a frenzy and with a gentle flick, she calmed the gems and they dimmed.
    “Can you control it?” Tony asked, putting a hand on Trish’s shoulder.
    “Barely, my love,” Trish held Tony’s hand, “the energy just seems to overpower me, and this is the lesser of the twin swords. I do not think I can use the other.”
    Tony nodded and he smiled but inside, he felt the same uneasiness he had always felt whenever Trish had used her swords, an alchemic invention designed to kill. Trish had never talked about how many lives the twin swords had taken, and even then, Tony knew she couldn’t possibly know the exact number because it had been passed down through the generations of her family. Even the guild overlooked her swords and the lives they had taken because the swords existed long before the oath of non-violence was proclaimed. No one cared for death but Tony took the time to understand the weight that Trish carried, and after much study, Tony realized that the swords were a conduit. The swords drew on both the power of the wielder and the earth and released the energy as a wave of plasma. Tony never told Trish, but his inspiration for The Path, his sphere to save the world, was taken from her swords and it worked in almost the same exact way, except that Tony wished The Path to be a tool of life, where the swords were a tool of death.
    Trish reached the city square with the city guards right behind her, and there they saw the King of Petra and the last of his Royal Guards fight to their last breath against a tide of Puritan troops. The ten Royal guards and the King stood shoulder to shoulder and together they held their shields together and beat back the enemy troops. Behind them, children and mothers clung to the wall of a ruined house, the very people that the King and his guards fought to save. All around the city square, bodies of men lay on top of each other, and Trish charged right through, with her sword held high. A bright light burst forth from Trish’s sword and it cut through a line of Puritan troops but Trish had reached too late, and the enemy troops had pushed their way through the King’s defensive line. In the late afternoon sun, Trish and the city guards battled to reach the King, lost amidst the swarm of troops. With great power, Trish cut a line towards the King and there she found him bloodied and wounded, clinging on to the last of his life with a smile. The city guards formed a defensive perimeter and Tony, who had been placing defensive structures and walls to keep the Puritan troops back, stood next to Trish, who cradled the withering King.
    “Save my people, Lady Trisha,” the King uttered with the last of his breath.
    With her hand, Trish uttered a short liturgy of death, as was customary for the dead, and closed his eyes. Trish stood and turned to the women and children who looked at her, Tony, and guards with hope in their eyes. Trish reached for them but a great explosion resounded throughout the square and everyone turned to the east and saw the wall Tony had constructed with The Path, reduced to a smoldering rubble. The city guards readied their shields and from the smoke, arrows were released and many guards fell. Puritan troops charged and in the back, a man in white and red robes strode forth, with a staff and a fiery crystal in his hand, a priest. Tony’s eyes widened and he realized that that crystal was an old invention of his, and it was a fire starter meant to help rural villages.
    “Heathens,” the priest shouted over the screams of men, “feel the holy fire of our god of suns and let it cleanse you.”
    The crystal glowed brightly in a burst of red and the arrowhead’s of his archer’s arrows erupted with fire. The archers loosed their arrows and their sharp points ignited the cloth of the city guards and sent them tumbling to the ground on fire. Speechless and with his emotions in turmoil, Tony could only feel fury at the misuse of his invention, at the corruption of his dream of a better life, and he used The Path to create a wave of rubble that swept them off their feet. In his anger, Tony was about to use The Path to entomb the priest who defiled his invention, but a woman screamed and Tony turned to see Sergeant Dorvaka fight to defend the children, only to fall to the numerous swords of his enemies. All other the other guards were busy fighting for their lives and Trish had surged forward to engage the priest of fire, and so only Tony could save the children, and save them he did. With The Path, he trapped all of the Puritan troops and threw them against the walls and at each other, knocking them out. Tony smiled but then the children and women screamed as Tony felt a sharp pain erupt across his chest. The strength seemed to fade from his body and Tony knelt in front of those he had just protected. Tony stared at the arrow head that protruded from his abdomen and it all seemed surreal to him. With short breaths, Tony slumped to the floor, still cradling The Path, his greatest tool of life. Looking back, Tony saw Trish cut down the priest of fire and then he saw the archers ready their bows. The archers released their arrows, not at Trish, but towards Tony, and Tony tried to use The Path, but he was too weak, and so, the arrows found their mark in the innocents behind Tony.
    Trish had seen the archers ready their bows but she was too late to react and could only cut them down when they had loosed their arrows. In her heart, Trish knew what had already happened and she turned. Trish was prepared to see the dead bodies of the innocent citizens that she had promised the King to protect, but when she saw her husband lying amongst them, Trish screamed. In agony, Trish threw herself into the fray and cut a path of death and ran towards Tony, who was crumpled on the floor, lying in a fetal position. In his hands, Trish saw that he cradled The Path like a baby and she knelt over him, holding his head up.
    “Tony, please,” Trish cried, “Don’t leave me here alone.”
    Tony opened his eyes and he uttered, “You will never be alone, my love”
    With the last of his strength, Tony passed The Path to Trish, and Trish’s tears fell on Tony’s face as his eyes glazed over and grew dull. Trish clenched her teeth and with The Path cradled in her hand, her tears, a sparkling brilliance in the afternoon light streamed down her cheeks. With another scream, Trish held The Path in her left and dropped the other sword. Pushing herself to stand, Trish turned and saw the last of the city guards fall as the Puritan troops encircled her. With her right hand, Trish pulled out the greater of her twin swords and brandished it in her right hand. With pure malice and all the darkness in the world, Trish ignited The Path and her sword at the same time, and both glowed with a furious brightness. The sun passed over the horizon and the city fell into a blaze of dark red, and Trish stood in the flickering light of torches held aloft. With a deep breath, Trish turned to look at the palace, where the last of the citizens were held, and then at Tony, who lay at her feet. With the close of her eyes, Trish apologized to Tony, to the citizens she couldn’t save, to everyone in her life, and finally to The Path, whose purpose was for life and not death. In the beginning of the night, Trish swung her sword and the city and the armies of her enemies tore asunder.
    When daylight finally broke, only the desert was left and nothing, not even a stone, remained of the mighty city of Petra, except for its palace. Alone in the desert, Trish lay at the end of her life, with The Path on her left and her sword on her right, its metal broken into pieces. Trish choked on the sand in her mouth and with what little strength she had left, she crawled to The Path and touched it with her left hand, covered in blood. Multiple arrow shafts stood out from Trish’s body but their impact was absorbed by the armor Trish wore underneath, and so she did not die. Trish did not want to die, she had always fought to live, to survive and at this point she wished to continue to walk the Earth, so that she could fulfill the dreams of Tony. With her hand, Trish ignited The Path, and wished. A warmth engulfed Trish and then her body was gone, and all that was left in the desert was a broken stone sphere and a cracked sword.

    Trish awoke in a realm of white light and there she stood, with white robes that flowed smoothly on her body. Trish felt a presence behind her, and she turned to see a man dressed in black, a man she loved. Trish smiled at Tony and she turned to walk towards him but she an invisible divide stopped her. In her realm of light, Trish could not cross over to the realm of darkness that Tony stood upon, and Trish banged her fist against the invisible wall that sent ripples reaching towards the horizon and sky beyond. Tony walked closer to the wall and pressed his hand against it, and Trish cried as she put her own to his. With a soft smile, Tony pointed at Trish and formed the alchemic sign of creation with his fingers, and then he pointed at himself and formed the alchemic sign of destruction. Trish shook her head but Tony nodded and closed his eyes. Trish fell to the floor weeping and she covered her face. In this realm of light and dark, the two lovers stood forever together and, yet forever apart, for she had become Life, and he had become Death. Together, they became the machine of our lives.

Description

    “To improve is to change for the better and one cannot become better without change, and yet humanity still tries. There is great opposition to change but there is little opposition to improvements. Everyone seems to want to improve but no one wants to change. Don’t these people of ours understand that something must be sacrificed in order for another to become better?” Trisha said with folded arms.
    The camel’s back rocked steadily as it climbed the sand dune. A light gust of wind tossed sand into Trisha’s face and her companion on the other camel next to her’s coughed.
    “They may not see it like us, Trish, and many more may not want to see the truth, but all of them want a better world. That is good enough for me. I believe their opposition to change stems from their angst of only one life, that everything ends when we die. Our memories fade but our energy returns to the earth and then it is reused. We are born again from our dispersed energy but our memories are gone, fragmented, lost. Perhaps this is why they oppose change, for it is a subconscious effort to retain what is already in their grasp,” Tony replied, letting his words carry into the afternoon air of the desert.
Trisha turned to face her companion of life, her husband, her best friend, and the other half of her alchemic endeavors. Without the other, they would not be able to realize their dreams. Love was only a small part of the equation to their immense teamwork and cohesion. The understanding of each other, the give and take of their partnership was the greatest power they could both wield. This was what made them the greatest alchemists of their time.
    “Perhaps. I’m just afraid we won’t be able to complete the stone before this world erupts into war. Humanity has lost their belief in themselves and now they cling to false beliefs and man-made gods. They fight amongst themselves based on the differences in this belief, and the worst is that they hunt us now. We should hurry. The faster we get to Petra, the better our chances of survival. If we fall, this world falls with us.”
    Tony’s head shook and he laughed, flashing a smile at his wife of twelve years, “Oh Trisha, we’re not that important in whole grand scheme of things. We’re just part of the cycle, and that’s why even if we fall, someone else will undoubtedly fulfill our dream, even if it’s a millennia later. I’m more worried of the false rumors of our stone. They say our stone, this nexus of ours can give immense power and immortality, one that rivals the gods. I only hope that the people realize that the rumors are not true. If they use the stone for the wrong reasons, if they use it for bloodshed, it would be corrupted forever.”
    Trisha moved her camel closer to her husband and held his hand, “Don’t worry Tony, I won’t let that happen, I won’t let them have the stone. Even if it costs me my life.”
    Glints of metal sparkled brightly in the fading sun of the desert’s late afternoon, and Tony turned to stare at Trisha’s two swords tied to her back, one curved and the other straight, both made of silver and inlaid with gems of power.
    “I only hope that you won’t have to draw your swords,” Tony coughs, “because someone always dies when swords are drawn.”
    Petra was once a land of greatness and an empire that dominated the sands. With a palace that was built deep into the mountains and a city that endured the harsh environment of the desert, Petra prospered as a sanctuary and trading hub of the desert cities. Spices of all varieties and fabrics of all colors lined the streets that Trisha and Tony walked through, having left their camels at the outskirt of the city, as per Petra’s customs. The two alchemists had the hood of their travel cloaks pulled up over their heads and walked with their bags hugged tightly to their chests. Trisha’s eyes constantly scanned the crowd around them from under the hood of her cloak and her right hand rested on the pommel of her knife, tied to her waist; using one of her silver swords in such a crowded area, filled with innocents, would mean they could get hurt and Trisha didn’t want to have to answer to a mistake like that again. Next to Trisha, Tony matched her pace and held a map of the area in his hand, studying their route carefully for the entrance of the Guild of Alchemy, one that was hidden for the safety of all. From the corner of her eye, Trisha noticed numerous guards patrolling the streets and it seemed as if the city was one high alert. To Trisha, there was feeling of a storm brewing.
    The real Alchemy of ancient past wasn’t a science and it wasn’t magic, it was raw power, one that lay dormant inside the earth. Alchemists sought to harness this raw power of the earth and use it to improve all of mankind, and so they developed many technologies to harness this power, and none would be more powerful than the stone that Trisha and Tony had developed, a stone that was called The Path. To others, and later to the world, it would be known as the Philosopher’s Stone but The Path wasn’t the exact same stone that legend tells of. The Path was powerful not because of the raw power it held, but the possibilities it could unlock, like building a bridge through life and death; immortality through a transfer of consciousness. To Trisha and Tony, it was to be their eternal bond, and with its activation, they would be together forever. Love and Life will no longer be constrained by Death.
    A large stone door, that looked more like a wall, stood two heads higher than Trisha and the female alchemist stared at the shallow glyphs that adorned the grey surface. The Guild of Alchemy valued secrecy and privacy of its sacred art because it believed that the masses of the world was not ready to wield or understand the power that was unlocked through their practices. Trisha seconded the Guild’s creed of secrecy but Tony believed that improving the world from the shadows would not lead to change, and so he gifted simple alchemic designs to villages, a practice that was met with ire from the guild. If it were not for Trisha views and Tony’s marriage to her, the Guild would have excommunicated him. With a wave of his hand, Tony activated the Glyphs in order of the elemental triads, and the door swung inwards to reveal two masked guards who welcomed them with nods.
    “I’m glad I still remember the Glyphs,” Tony sighed.
    “How could you even forget after all the trips you had to make for that trial years back,” Trisha smirked.
    “Ah, that’s right, the trial of my excommunication. I’m glad it fell through…” Tony hid his head and picked up his pace.
    With a smile on her face, Trisha hurried forward and put her right arm through his left, “Don’t worry, nothing that bad is going to happen this time. Today, we come here as champions.”
    A soft smile spreads on Tony’s lips, “I really do hope so, my dear.”
    The Guild of Alchemy in Petra was built deep into the ground, to keep temperatures cool, and numerous airshafts regulated the flow of air from the outside. Apart from the spacious research centers and labs, Trisha’s favorite location of The Guild of Alchemy in Petra was it’s luxurious inner sanctum, a common area used to hold discussions, and it was lavishly decorated with support from the King of Petra. Gold, amber wood, and exotic materials were sourced from all over the world and used to design the interior of the sanctum. Eastern spices filled the sanctum and the heavy musk invited Trisha and Tony with a gentle warmth. This was the Global Headquarters of Alchemy and it’s importance was the housing of Alchemic records and the Council of Elders, a council of eight respected alchemists that Trisha and Tony had been summoned to meet.
    With further approval from the guards, Trisha and Tony entered the Inner Sanctum and they gasped at the hundreds of Alchemists that filled the place. The Speaker of the Sanctum announced the couple’s arrival and the room fell silent as all the heads of the Alchemists turned to stare at the newly arrived pair, whose names had dominated conversations for months. In far back of the room, a slow clap resounded and then the room erupted into a symphony of claps and smiles as Trisha and Tony were welcomed towards the center of the Inner Sanctum, where the Council sat on velvet chairs.
    “Trisha Delamonntaire and Anthony Vurita’iltide, it is a pleasure to meet you,” said a man who sat in the center of the eight council members.
    Trisha stared at the ninth man of the council and then frowned as she recognized the regalia that the man wore, golden silk and heavily jeweled accessories. The man was the King of Petra and Trisha instinctively bowed her head out of respect. She nudged Tony to follow but her man was too slow to recognize the King, and Tony simply nodded and smiled at the man that was also one of the main benefactors of the Guild. The King sought to attain immortality for him and his family and while the Guild actively worked to provide him a realistic outlook of Immortality, the King never wavered from his insane dreams of living forever.
    “Trisha and Anthony, I do hope you don’t mind the King being here for your presentation. He was quite adamant that he be here to witness this invention of yours. I must say, Anthony, the numerous rumors have made your work truly intriguing. So please, show us,” spoke the elderly but well-built man seated next to the King of Petra.
    The elderly man was the most respected of the council and his name was Vesivir Kilien, a name that Trisha could not forget for it was his vote that kept Tony from being excommunicated. With a deep breath, Tony strode forward and reached into his bag. The Sanctum fell into a tense hush as Tony pulled out a green velvet pouch that had an image of the Guild’s crest stitched in gold silk. Tony grasped The Path and it felt cold in his hands, just as it should be before activation, and he peeled back the velvet pouch to reveal a smooth stone sphere that size of a human head that bore deep intrinsic patterns on its surface. Chattering voices filled the Sanctum once more and Trisha looked around the room as people whispered and speculated on the workings of The Path.
    “This is The Path,” Tony said with an uncanny confidence, “it is an opaque stone sphere made of numerous minerals and crystals but it’s true nature will not be revealed until its activation, like this.”
    Tony grasped The Path in both hands and closed his eyes. The candles of the room flickered and then they were snuffed out, in middle of the room, Tony stood with a glowing ball that pulsed with the brilliance of the sun but the cold of the moon. Trisha looked deeply into The Path and at it’s heart, one that she saw as a star that encompassed all power. The Path was a conduit, an amplifier of the natural energy of the Earth and Tony had designed it to continuously draw on the energy of the earth so as to empower and improve the output of the works of the Alchemists. With The Path, opportunities would open and Tony demonstrated its capabilities.
    “The Path increases our connection to the natural powers of the Earth, it allows us to perform feats that one could not normally accomplish. With the Path, it is simple to conjure fire,” Tony waved his arms and all the candles lighted up instantaneously, to tremendous gasps, “The Path will enable us to design inventions that will bring greatness to the world but it must only be used for the benefit of life. If The Path was used to kill, its purpose would be corrupted and the world will fall into peril.”
    Vesivir stood from his chair and approached Tony, “What do you mean by corrupted?”
    “The Path is a connection between the Earth’s power and man, but if we use this power to defy nature, the Earth itself will start to defy us,” Tony replied.
    The room fell into a frenzy of shouts and arguments as all the Alchemists erupted into debate. Trisha winced and shook her head. What Tony had just said was of a controversial theory that the Earth itself was alive, that it was sentient but yet disconnected from its inhabitants. Even after five years, the theory was rife with controversy. The other council members shouted at other Alchemists and those shouted at Tony, who could only stare at Vesivir with eyes that spoke all truth. The King of Petra sat in his chair and grinned at the sphere, a grin that Trisha shivered at.
    Vesivir smiled, “Anthony, you’re always trouble,” and then with a sigh, Vesiver shouted to the room “Quiet, all of you!”
    Silence greeted Vesivir and he whispered to Tony, “Anthony, what you have created here is of great importance, and its construction must be studied and its applications researched, but then again, it’s power alone can lead to many problems. Not all people are as good natured as us, and even then it will be hard to judge who can wield this.” Vesivir then glanced at the King of Petra who finally stood up from his chair.
    “To help solve all your problems, Vesivir, I would not mind keeping the orb safe in the palace until the Council can reach a decision,” said the King.
    “Sire, there is no need to-“
    “It was not a question, Vesivir, I too am worried that someone may misuse this orb’s power, so please, if you may.”
    Vesivir glanced back at Tony, who nodded slowly and approached the King, guards could be heard tightening their grip on their weapons.
    “It is alright, The Path must first establish a connection to the user and then to the Earth, it will not activate without the Earth accepting the Man,” Tony said, handing the sphere to the King.
    The King of Petra held the sphere and The Path’s luminescent glow faded back to the a dullness of polished stone, deactivated.
    “I see you’ve added a measure of security,” the King of Petra raised his eyebrow.
    “It is not of my doing, it of the Earth’s. One cannot expect to connect to the Earth without first understanding and then respecting its nature.”
    The King stared intensely at Tony, who had not spoken with proper formality, and a tense hush blanketed the room.
    The lips of the King parted to speak but the sudden slam of a door opening turned his head towards the entrance. Palace guards streamed through the crowd and surrounded the King in a circle, all their hands grasped on their swords. Tony was pushed back and Trish grabbed him just in time to stop him from falling backwards onto an advisor who scurried to the King’s side, hastily whispering his words. The King’s eyes widened.
    “What!” the King blurted, “An army at the gates? Whose!”
    “I-I’m not sure sire, they have begun setting up their siege engines,” the advisor shuffled about.
    “Well then, we shall meet them with ours, gather our army and prepare for war!” the King strode hastily towards the door, palace guards chased after him.
    “Oh,” the King stopped and then turned around, heading back towards Tony, “here my dear Alchemist, I shall heed your words. Keep this sphere from harm and from all corruption.”
    Tony nodded and the King smiled before he turned and proceeded back to the door with a final parting of words, “If the worst happens, please, use the sphere to save Petra, to save my people.”
    At the gates, the enemy was a horde of purists, of men who believed that Petra had fallen to corruption, to false gods, and so they were there to deliver their justice to the unbelievers of their god, in the form of death.

    It was a week of fighting and screaming as puritan soldiers beat themselves against the walls amidst the hail of arrows from archers and stone boulders from siege engines. Blood and burning corpses seemed to fill the air and then on the eight day, the eastern wall broke and the puritan troops streamed into the city. Petra was not built with war in mind and its builders had not considered being surrounded by an army and had not built emergency escape routes. For a week, the city of Petra tried to evacuate all of its citizens via the royal escape tunnels but progress was slow and when the eastern wall fell with a resounding crack, Trish, who was aiding the evacuation, was caught in the middle of stampeding citizens.
    Bodies upon bodies slammed into Trish as she tried to push back against the torrent of citizens. Shields pushed back the citizens and hands grabbed Trish up onto a ledge. Trish turned and the Captain of the Guard, Renra Muzir, nodded with a grim smile.
    “This is madness, I will post some guards here to stabilize the flow but the King himself has engaged the puritan troops in streets, and I cannot spare any more men,” Muzir shouted.
    “Is there no other way out?” Trish shouted back over the roar of the crowd that deafened her ears.
    Muzir pulled Trish down the upper corridors of the palace and towards a quieter area. There the Captain of the Guard spoke with a quieter voice, “The alchemists have retreated to the throne room and are preparing to barricade themselves in there. I have heard that they are still divided on whether they will join the fight, so you best hurry, my lady. But truly, if you can convince them to fight, we might save the day.”
    Trish’s eyes turned towards the floor and then she looked back at the Captain of the Guard’s worried face, “I am not sure. We Alchemists strive to improve the world, but we believe that we can achieve without violence. If we use our inventions for war, there is no telling when it will all end.”
    “This is war, my lady, what are those swords on your back for, if not for killing?” The Captain of the Guard pushed Trish away and turned back towards the rampaging crowd, “If we do not get more aid, all of Petra will fall, and everyone will certainly perish in the flames of these puritan bastards.”
    The Captain barked orders at his men and Trish closed her eyes for a moment before she hurried down the stairs and ran towards the throne room.
    At the palace courtyard, hundreds of citizens stood, some crying and many others staring at their city in flames. Even Trish, who was hurrying, stopped and gasped at the great flames that spewed thick black smoke which covered the sky. With clench of her fist, Trish shook her head and sprinted towards the throne room.
    With barely any breath left, Trish reached the entrance of the throne room and found its massive doors closed. Outside, a robed man and stood behind several guards who banged their fists against the door. The man turned and when Trish’s eyes adjusted to the dimness of the entrance, she realized that it was Tony. The Path, the sphere, was held in his arms, cradled like a baby and it glowed with a fiery menace. Trish ran to Tony and embraced him, taking his head into her hands, “Oh, Tony, what happened here?”
    Tony trembled and his eyes were a watery red, “The Guild refused to help, they argued and for a first, I shouted back, but the majority had voted for inaction. My words failed to sway them and they decided to barricade themselves in the throne room. They kicked me out, Trish. They blamed me for all of their trouble. They said that I was what brought the army here.”
    Trish held Tony tight but her own eyes were set ablaze, and with anger, she strode towards the doors and hammered on them. “You cowards! Instead of fighting for your lives and your futures, you choose to hide behind locked doors that will eventually fall.”
    A voice spoke through the tight crack of throne room doors, it sounded like Vesivir, “Trisha, my dear, you know all too well why we chose this path. Our hands must be sullied by blood, lest our beings be corrupted. If death shall take us, then so be it. Be safe, my dear, I hope you escape our fate. Now go, leave us, we must join our hands in silence and reflection.”
    Trish screamed and flailed against the door till she wept and fell to floor on her knees. The guards stared at Trish and they too closed their eyes. Tony shuffled to Trish and kneeled with her. Trish turned at looked at her husband and Tony simply nodded.
    “What will we do, Tony?” Trish gulped.
    “What every human has always done, we must survive,” Tony whispered.
    “Even if it means we break our oath as Alchemists and use our inventions for war?” Trish’s hands shook.
    “Even if it means that, my love.” Tony said with a solemn voice.
    Trish turned slowly towards Tony and the two alchemists stared into each other’s eyes, remembering and keeping their love locked tight within their hearts. With hands locked together, Trish and Tony rose and turned to the guards, “Our fellow Alchemists have chosen to honor their choice of non-violence and have resigned themselves to their fates, but we will not. Today, Petra stands on the brink of death, and there is no way out. Citizens stampede through the royal escape tunnels but it is not wide enough for all of them. Their bodies clog up the tunnels and so, we are left here but we not die standing idle. The army at the gates have grown thin from your efforts and we can fight our way out of this. Come, let us join your King, and let us fight for the future of all of Petra!”
    The soldiers cheered and they raised their swords in salute, and one of the guards took off his helmet and said, “My lady, I am Sergeant Dorvarka, and I believe in your words, so I will follow. We must save the King.“ Trish smiled and then she commanded, “Good, gather all the men you can spare, we will need everyone.”
    Sergeant Dorvarka turned and he commanded his men to find the others. Trish turned to Tony once more and with their hands together, she said, “No matter what, we’re coming out of this alive, I promise you.”
    Tony remained silent and with a tense slowness, he reached for Trish and brought her head closer to his. Tony whispered, “I will always love you,” and then he kissed her head.
    The men returned and their numbers swelled two-fold and after counting, Sergeant Dorvaka turned to Trish, “Forty-eight of us, my lady.”
    Trish wiped the tears from her eyes and then she drew one of her jeweled sword and the men all stared at deadly silver that shined with flawless beauty.
    “Then, let us go and grasp destiny by the neck.”

All of the royals guards had charged with the King of Petra towards the breach at the fallen eastern wall. A whole battalion of royal guards, three hundred of the greatest warriors the King of Petra could find, and every one of them would die for him. Three hundred men had fought with him and they held their ground as the forces of the puritan enemies streamed into the city with frenzied shouts and their prayers to false gods. Royals guards, fully armored with the toughest metal and armed with the sharpest weapons clashed with the thousands of ill-equipped puritan troops. For every one Royal Guard, hundreds of Puritan soldiers died but even the greatest warrior is not immune to the fatigue of war, and one by one, the Royal Guards were taken down and killed by the crowd of enemies whose numbers never seemed to dwindle. Every street was another defensive position and a deadly brawl, and the King of Petra was always afraid, for he had always considered himself a great tactician, but now, he questioned if he could even win. To the King of Petra, this fight was quality against quantity, but the opposing side never seemed to reduce in quantity whereas his own troops were dropping with quality as time passed. “Impossible,” was the word that screamed continuously in the King’s mind. Pushed back, the King and his royal guards were forced back towards the town square, where the citizens who had yet to escape were encamped. At that moment, The King of Petra knew that he was backed into a corner because he could never let his citizens die, and so, he gathered all his courage and faced the tide of shouting death that was the hundreds of Puritan troops with the fifty royal guards he had left and the handful of city guards that rallied to his side.
    Trish’s sword cleaved through crowd of Puritan troops with a malicious energy that caused the enemy to cower in fear. The city guards streamed in and cut down the enemy troops that were to slow to run away. With a frown, Tony ignited The Path and used it to block the end of the street by forming a wall, three heads high, out of the stone on the streets. With another wave of her sword, Trish unleashed a wave of energy and it cut through the last of the Puritan troops that had rushed towards them with swords and spears raised to kill. The gems of Trish’s sword glowed with a frenzy and with a gentle flick, she calmed the gems and they dimmed.
    “Can you control it?” Tony asked, putting a hand on Trish’s shoulder.
    “Barely, my love,” Trish held Tony’s hand, “the energy just seems to overpower me, and this is the lesser of the twin swords. I do not think I can use the other.”
    Tony nodded and he smiled but inside, he felt the same uneasiness he had always felt whenever Trish had used her swords, an alchemic invention designed to kill. Trish had never talked about how many lives the twin swords had taken, and even then, Tony knew she couldn’t possibly know the exact number because it had been passed down through the generations of her family. Even the guild overlooked her swords and the lives they had taken because the swords existed long before the oath of non-violence was proclaimed. No one cared for death but Tony took the time to understand the weight that Trish carried, and after much study, Tony realized that the swords were a conduit. The swords drew on both the power of the wielder and the earth and released the energy as a wave of plasma. Tony never told Trish, but his inspiration for The Path, his sphere to save the world, was taken from her swords and it worked in almost the same exact way, except that Tony wished The Path to be a tool of life, where the swords were a tool of death.
    Trish reached the city square with the city guards right behind her, and there they saw the King of Petra and the last of his Royal Guards fight to their last breath against a tide of Puritan troops. The ten Royal guards and the King stood shoulder to shoulder and together they held their shields together and beat back the enemy troops. Behind them, children and mothers clung to the wall of a ruined house, the very people that the King and his guards fought to save. All around the city square, bodies of men lay on top of each other, and Trish charged right through, with her sword held high. A bright light burst forth from Trish’s sword and it cut through a line of Puritan troops but Trish had reached too late, and the enemy troops had pushed their way through the King’s defensive line. In the late afternoon sun, Trish and the city guards battled to reach the King, lost amidst the swarm of troops. With great power, Trish cut a line towards the King and there she found him bloodied and wounded, clinging on to the last of his life with a smile. The city guards formed a defensive perimeter and Tony, who had been placing defensive structures and walls to keep the Puritan troops back, stood next to Trish, who cradled the withering King.
    “Save my people, Lady Trisha,” the King uttered with the last of his breath.
    With her hand, Trish uttered a short liturgy of death, as was customary for the dead, and closed his eyes. Trish stood and turned to the women and children who looked at her, Tony, and guards with hope in their eyes. Trish reached for them but a great explosion resounded throughout the square and everyone turned to the east and saw the wall Tony had constructed with The Path, reduced to a smoldering rubble. The city guards readied their shields and from the smoke, arrows were released and many guards fell. Puritan troops charged and in the back, a man in white and red robes strode forth, with a staff and a fiery crystal in his hand, a priest. Tony’s eyes widened and he realized that that crystal was an old invention of his, and it was a fire starter meant to help rural villages.
    “Heathens,” the priest shouted over the screams of men, “feel the holy fire of our god of suns and let it cleanse you.”
    The crystal glowed brightly in a burst of red and the arrowhead’s of his archer’s arrows erupted with fire. The archers loosed their arrows and their sharp points ignited the cloth of the city guards and sent them tumbling to the ground on fire. Speechless and with his emotions in turmoil, Tony could only feel fury at the misuse of his invention, at the corruption of his dream of a better life, and he used The Path to create a wave of rubble that swept them off their feet. In his anger, Tony was about to use The Path to entomb the priest who defiled his invention, but a woman screamed and Tony turned to see Sergeant Dorvaka fight to defend the children, only to fall to the numerous swords of his enemies. All other the other guards were busy fighting for their lives and Trish had surged forward to engage the priest of fire, and so only Tony could save the children, and save them he did. With The Path, he trapped all of the Puritan troops and threw them against the walls and at each other, knocking them out. Tony smiled but then the children and women screamed as Tony felt a sharp pain erupt across his chest. The strength seemed to fade from his body and Tony knelt in front of those he had just protected. Tony stared at the arrow head that protruded from his abdomen and it all seemed surreal to him. With short breaths, Tony slumped to the floor, still cradling The Path, his greatest tool of life. Looking back, Tony saw Trish cut down the priest of fire and then he saw the archers ready their bows. The archers released their arrows, not at Trish, but towards Tony, and Tony tried to use The Path, but he was too weak, and so, the arrows found their mark in the innocents behind Tony.
    Trish had seen the archers ready their bows but she was too late to react and could only cut them down when they had loosed their arrows. In her heart, Trish knew what had already happened and she turned. Trish was prepared to see the dead bodies of the innocent citizens that she had promised the King to protect, but when she saw her husband lying amongst them, Trish screamed. In agony, Trish threw herself into the fray and cut a path of death and ran towards Tony, who was crumpled on the floor, lying in a fetal position. In his hands, Trish saw that he cradled The Path like a baby and she knelt over him, holding his head up.
    “Tony, please,” Trish cried, “Don’t leave me here alone.”
    Tony opened his eyes and he uttered, “You will never be alone, my love”
    With the last of his strength, Tony passed The Path to Trish, and Trish’s tears fell on Tony’s face as his eyes glazed over and grew dull. Trish clenched her teeth and with The Path cradled in her hand, her tears, a sparkling brilliance in the afternoon light streamed down her cheeks. With another scream, Trish held The Path in her left and dropped the other sword. Pushing herself to stand, Trish turned and saw the last of the city guards fall as the Puritan troops encircled her. With her right hand, Trish pulled out the greater of her twin swords and brandished it in her right hand. With pure malice and all the darkness in the world, Trish ignited The Path and her sword at the same time, and both glowed with a furious brightness. The sun passed over the horizon and the city fell into a blaze of dark red, and Trish stood in the flickering light of torches held aloft. With a deep breath, Trish turned to look at the palace, where the last of the citizens were held, and then at Tony, who lay at her feet. With the close of her eyes, Trish apologized to Tony, to the citizens she couldn’t save, to everyone in her life, and finally to The Path, whose purpose was for life and not death. In the beginning of the night, Trish swung her sword and the city and the armies of her enemies tore asunder.
    When daylight finally broke, only the desert was left and nothing, not even a stone, remained of the mighty city of Petra, except for its palace. Alone in the desert, Trish lay at the end of her life, with The Path on her left and her sword on her right, its metal broken into pieces. Trish choked on the sand in her mouth and with what little strength she had left, she crawled to The Path and touched it with her left hand, covered in blood. Multiple arrow shafts stood out from Trish’s body but their impact was absorbed by the armor Trish wore underneath, and so she did not die. Trish did not want to die, she had always fought to live, to survive and at this point she wished to continue to walk the Earth, so that she could fulfill the dreams of Tony. With her hand, Trish ignited The Path, and wished. A warmth engulfed Trish and then her body was gone, and all that was left in the desert was a broken stone sphere and a cracked sword.

    Trish awoke in a realm of white light and there she stood, with white robes that flowed smoothly on her body. Trish felt a presence behind her, and she turned to see a man dressed in black, a man she loved. Trish smiled at Tony and she turned to walk towards him but she an invisible divide stopped her. In her realm of light, Trish could not cross over to the realm of darkness that Tony stood upon, and Trish banged her fist against the invisible wall that sent ripples reaching towards the horizon and sky beyond. Tony walked closer to the wall and pressed his hand against it, and Trish cried as she put her own to his. With a soft smile, Tony pointed at Trish and formed the alchemic sign of creation with his fingers, and then he pointed at himself and formed the alchemic sign of destruction. Trish shook her head but Tony nodded and closed his eyes. Trish fell to the floor weeping and she covered her face. In this realm of light and dark, the two lovers stood forever together and, yet forever apart, for she had become Life, and he had become Death. Together, they became the machine of our lives.