After speaking with the Lady of Light, Beren felt unease with the answers received. The young warrior stumbled upon Mei Fong, who challenged him to a duel to help calm and center his mind. The two warriors fought with brazen skill and mastery, which helped the bewildered monk. They shared a kiss under the mystical tower, knowing their enemy was approaching and they would soon face the most significant battle of their lives. 

Previous Episode/Previous Anthology Episodes

After their thunderous duel, Beren, and Mei Fong walk together through the quiet hallways of the tower. For all their time, its magic still bewildered them, as the geometry bent and twisted where the occupants desired. The various elf attendants could be curiously seen from time to time, they bowed and went about their business whenever they passed one. The two eventually found their way to the banquet hall, some attendants were cleaning the remnants of the feast, Jade Tiger sat on a pile of pillows arranged like an elaborate chair with a pipe connected to a large orbed device, the smell of tobacco and herbs permeated the nearly empty room. The tabaxi waved them over and grabbed some additional pipes attached to odd cords.

“Come, relax. Let us enjoy a few good puffs before we face the enemy.” The tabaxi asserted

“Our last time together before the inevitable,” Mei Fong confirmed.

Jade Tiger took a deep breath from the contraption and breathed several rings of smoke. “The others have gone to prepare themselves. Similar to what you two must have done.”

“And, what? Do you think we did while we were away?” Mei grumbled.

The tabaxi blinked, “dueling and sparing?”

Mei’s face turned red. “Oh, well, then you would be right.”

Jade raised an eyebrow and returned to smoking from the orb and pipe.

Beren chuckled and joined his feline friend though Mei tossed a few quick jabs at his shoulder. Each blow heavier and sharper than the last. The three conversed throughout the remainder of the night, recounting the events that lead each of them to the Chromo Gyamdre and the early days of the tournament. The three would retire with nostalgic thoughts on their minds, a requiem before their fateful confrontation.

Mei and Jade Tiger separated from Beren and took their respective halls toward their rooms. Before Beren could turn, the young elvish visage of the Lady stood at the end of the corridor. The warrior monk approached her with silent trepidation, unsure of the reason for her sudden appearance.

 

“You asked what my role was,” she affirmed.

Beren silently nodded.

“Come with me.” The elf maiden gracefully walked down the corridor that led to the familiar room of floating pavilions that Beren previously encountered.

Once Beren entered the room, large wooden doors closed behind him. He turned to the elf maiden and noticed a gleaming orange bead at the top of her forehead. The distant moonlight continued to cast its light upon the floating stones, the warrior monk felt the ominous aura of the Lady of Light now. Every muscle told him that she was dangerous, more than all the time with her. As if some hidden aura had been revealed, a suppressed impression that he only became cognizant now.

The Lady points at the orange bead on her forehead. “This, Beren the Yellow, is why I cannot confront the Fallen King. It is a legacy that cannot fall into his hands.”

Beren approached closer to inspect the odd gem. It was orange like the sunrise, smooth and infinite in its depth. The closer he approached, a wave of empathy and understanding washed over him. The world felt blurred and muted, the color was dulled, this insight shifted and became a mixture of pride and fear. A fear of shame and guilt with pride that kept it back behind a wall of loneliness. The warrior realized the significance of this sudden change in atmosphere, it was tied to this gem.

“What is it?” He inquired.

“A legacy best left forgotten. A piece of great power that shattered the world once, a power that the Fallen King would use if he ever found the other fragments. That is what you’re fighting for, to keep him away from the fragments of that lost power.”

“Why not use that power against him?”

Dark clouds swirled and obscured the moon. The Lady’s voice became thunderous. “No. Using this power only spells doom and destruction to those who use it.” Her face softened. “The reason why we cannot allow these fragments to fall into his hands is that his people created these powers. To use them against him, would be our folly.”

Beren tensed and absorbed everything he heard, he diverted his gaze from the elf maiden and tried to contemplate the options available to him. Unfortunately, the possibilities were meager and offered little chance of success. As if she knew, the Lady placed her hand on the warrior’s face, and a wave of sorrow and regret filled him.

“If there were any other way to save you all from your approaching fate, I would gladly take your place. Instead, all I can offer to you is a glimmer of hope against insurmountable odds.” Beren felt a small disc placed into his hands. It was nearly four inches wide with a rune etched out from the surface on each side. There was a magical warmth emanating from it, pulsing with power.

Beren looked up, and the Lady of Light was gone.

A familiar female voice echoed in his mind, omnipresent yet crystal clear. “When the moment arrives, when hope’s light fades, use the disk to dispel the shadow. May fate show mercy to you, Beren the Yellow.”

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