|
|
| |
|
| ||
|
|
|
|
Chapter 7
I stared up at Altor's castle. It was fairly small, for a planeswalker with his powers. Undoubtedly, this dwelling was a hovel compared to
what Altor could have. This realization made me sick to my stomach.
The castle was rather haphazard, practically growing out of a basic
structure to envelope a large section of the landscape. It was
chaotically built, but systematically defended. Fortunately (or not),
the gates opened at my approach.
I stood outside the gates, rubbing my right arm's stump with my left
hand. I could feel the stubbly ends of my shattered elbow underneath my
skin. Had I been conscious, I might have healed myself when the
paralysis wore off, way back when I received the injury. The loss of
several days time, and imperfect healing by Shah Rakhib's physicians
left that chance of saving my arm blowing away in the wind. Now I had a
rather useless stump.
My eye, fortunately, was somewhat salvageable. I was able to heal it
enough to regain some sight, limited in depth and clarity as it was by
the extent of my injury. A strange side-effect developed as a direct
result of the delayed healing of my eye. What I lost in visual acuity,
I gained in being able to see the lines of power that were drawn up in
the casting of spells. I now had a slight advantage, in that I could
see how an opposing mage was preparing his spells, what energies were
used, and how they were manipulated. If I could recognize the spell, I
would be better prepared for it.
I began to analyze my current situation thoroughly. I was in the
middle of the enemy's lands, alone and outclassed. My powers, strong
though they had been, were weakened by my several injuries. Their very
use was painful and unreliable. The man I sought to encounter, and
hopefully defeat, was easily my master. He had the mana links of
perhaps thousands of dead or imprisoned planeswalkers. With a simple
paralysis spell, he managed to stop me easily, and then proceeded to
cripple me. He had no fear of me and he knew that I had everything to
fear from him.
Altor enjoyed the luxury of a defensive battle, and home territory. I
had neither of these advantages. Altor knew what traps awaited the
unwelcome. I did not. I had only desperation on my side. Desperation,
and the knowledge that I must survive the inevitable confrontation
between Altor and myself, so that I may hope to gain power enough to
stop Elrohir's mad quest to cast the final stages of the World Spell.
Several sleeth prowled the top of the castle, and though they saw me,
they made no move to attack me. That was strange enough. No sleeth I
had ever seen was restrained enough to not attack a lone
traveler, let alone a planeswalker traveler. Sleeth were drawn to
planeswalkers for some unknown reason, and I speculated that the many
sightings I'd had of them were due to their being used to hunt down
planeswalkers over the years for the purposes of the World Spell.
I walked through the gate. The sleeth still made no move. Unlike what
I expected, I beheld a rather beauteously designed courtyard. This was
rather different from the death trap that I'd feared awaited me.
Flowers that I recognized as lotus blossoms grew in carefully tended
patches. They were orange, lavender, red, but most of all, there were
black lotuses. Did I have it wrong? Perhaps Altor wasn't
working with Elrohir. No, Elrohir could not afford to leave such a
powerful planeswalker alive or free, let alone both.
Looking closer at some of the flowers, however, I saw a glimpse of what
I feared. Corpses hidden amongst the flowers. Some of these were
cadaverous blooms. The courtyard was a source of Altor's great power.
This brought me hope, because maybe he didn't have the power of
other planeswalkers. He could be brought low. He was
mortal! If I could just harness some of his power for my own...
I stooped to pick a few lotus blossoms. As I reached my hand out, a
viper quite literally launched itself out of the tangle of flowers and
coiled itself around my arm. I stopped instantly. The snake flicked
its tongue across the bare skin of my left arm. I felt my blood begin
to pound in my veins. I identified the snake as a marsh viper. If it
bit me, I could be in serious trouble. I had no antidote for its
poison. No antidote was known to exist.
I began to bring my right arm up, hoping to grab the snake behind the
head. Again, I was reminded of the loss of my arm. I would need to
find another solution. The snake coiled tighter. I felt my arm begin to
go numb. My right leg suddenly stung quite painfully. I looked down
slowly, and saw several more snakes writhing around. One had its fangs
in the back of my leg. One bite, and more were on the way. With so
many threats, I needed to use power.
I closed my eyes, and summoned a pyroclasm. The waves of fire
immolated the snakes. I watched as the snake on my arm was incinerated.
Its skin fell off in clumps, leaving only its skeleton, which promptly
fell off my arm and shattered on the ground with the bones of the other
snakes.
Fire of a different kind raced through my leg. I lost my balance, and
my vision began to blur. My leg began to turn blue, then black. The
muscles twitched involuntarily. I fell to my knees in pain. Weakness
spread through my body. I collapsed completely to the ground. My body
could no longer support its own weight.
I called my thoughts together and summoned more magic. The punctures
in my leg closed, the damage to my system repaired. The poison remained
in my body. Soon, the effect of the poison weakened. My body was
adjusting to its presence and was beginning to eradicate it. Within a
few minutes' time, I was almost whole again, my arm not withstanding. I
brought myself to my feet, and found that my leg didn't support me as
well as it once had. I walked with a limp, and would do so for the rest
of my life.
I continued on into the main castle structure. The hum of power
thrilled through my spine. The gothic architecture soared high above my
head, wispy whirls and whorls carved into the walls symbolizing an
ancient runic magic structure that predates the discovery of the five
colors of magic. From this main hallway, four corridors opened up, two
in the back wall and one on each of the walls to the right and to the
left. I chose the left, and walked over there, stepping cautiously on
the red and orange carpet. I moved forward cautiously, alertly. I'd
already lost my arm to the owner of this palace, I didn't want to lose
my life here as well.
Through the left doorway, a twisting staircase descended an
indeterminable distance. I descended as slowly as I had crept to the
stair, my eyes on the wall, the stairs, the rocks that gradually gave
way to dirt. I conjured a light as the illumination from the entrance
faded into the twisting confusion of the stairs above. The stairway was
not too deep, only a few flights, and ended at a door. Light flickered
from under the hardwood door.
I reached up my hand to open the door, but before I grasped the handle,
it opened of its own accord. I saw a black man with black hair, his
penetrating blue eyes staring through me, into me. Altor.
Looking behind him, I saw a sprawling laboratory, a library, mana
batteries. The last were obviously concealed from the casual observer.
A purple orb rested on a table, and the two of us were framed within the
orb. This was how he knew of my presence, I thought. Statues rested
against each of the four book-lined walls.
Altor looked at my leg. "I see you...admired my flowers. I trust you
found their fragrance... pleasing?" The look of his eyes told me he was
laughing internally at some inside joke of his. I knew what he was
laughing at. "I trust you've adapted to your, loss of arm? Come in,
let me ease some of your pain." His voice wasn't threatening. I
followed him inside.
He called two golems over. I had thought them to be statues, but I was
wrong in this estimation. He whispered to them, what he said I could
not tell. The golems shuffled off up the stairs. He watched them
leave, then waved his hand in my direction. "Here, take a seat," he
said. I found a wooden chair behind me. I gladly sat in it.
Arms formed out from the armrests and grabbed me. I screamed in anger
at the betrayal of offered hospitality. The chair burst into flames and
turned to ash. Altor simply nodded.
"You ARE as powerful as I surmised. Few people survive my poisonous
blade; fewer still the marsh vipers in my garden." He leaned over to
me, squinted his eyes. "None have survived my inner sanctum."
He turned around and sat in a rather uncomfortable-looking bone chair
near the purple orb and the table it rested upon. In the orb, the
golems were moving up the stairs.
"So, why do you come here after I have left you for dead? Stupidity,
or foolishness? You cannot leave this place, you know. I simply do not
allow that." He watched the golems lumbering slowly across the red and
orange carpet. I watched them too.
"I believe that you are in league with Elrohir."
"So you just come straight out and tell me, eh? Not one for tact, are
you? Not that it matters... Yes, it matters not at all..." The golems
passed through the entrance opposite the one I took, the one on the
right. "Elrohir...tolerates my presence. He wants me to eliminate you,
actually. He believes you can ruin his plans."
"Me? Ruin his plans? I doubt that. I've heard that the World Spell
is already in effect. Being cast. No, I can't stop him."
"What you've heard is hearsay only. What do you know of the World
Spell? Nothing, I'm sure. Let me enlighten your little mind.
"The World Spell," he continued, "draws on the magical energies from
all the planes. That is why the other planeswalkers have been hunted.
They have...er, had, the necessary energies for the spells." I knew all
of this. "As Elrohir collected this energy, he began initiating steps
of the spell. Do you want to know a secret?" I nodded my head. "You and
I are the only planeswalkers still alive. We are the only threat to
Elrohir's plans. We are the only ones free to think and act." The
golems entered a huge room, containing large mana batteries. The source
of his powers! I let Altor continue.
"I'm afraid that I must kill you soon. It's really too bad; you've
proven to be a worthy opponent. But you see, my life is forfeit whether
I kill you or not. Elrohir will not allow me to outlive my usefulness."
Exactly. You eliminate me, then Elrohir kills you, leaving no opposition
to his mad scheme, I mused. Not while I still live. The golems pulled
open two huge double doors. A hand reached out, crushing one of the
golems and pulling it inside. Altor, noticing this, canceled the power
of the orb.
"So, you lured me here to be a victim of your demon? Altor, are you
not strong enough to deal with me yourself?" I said. A Yawgmoth demon?
Everything clicked inside of me. The black lotuses, the golems, the
throne of bone, the mana batteries! He didn't have the power of untold
thousands of planeswalkers; he drew his power from artifacts. He was an
artificer!
Altor looked confused, panicked.
"Where are your weapons of destruction, Altor? Your poisonous sword,
your venomous armor?" I unleashed the most powerful shatterstorm I
could muster. Mana batteries exploded, burning Altor's body. I ran up
the stairs and out the door. Across from me, the Yawgmoth demon was
tearing its way through the opposite doorway. I ran to my left, to the
double doors, and went through. My limp did nothing to impede my swift
progress.
In this new chamber, broken weaponry and arcane objects littered the
floor, victims of my shatterstorm. But my sight was drawn to a large
circle drawn on the ground. A circle of protection? It wouldn't hurt
to check. I ran to it, and altered the spell to affect me. It was not
a circle of protection. A roar sounded behind me, then a scream.
I turned, and saw Altor running towards the double doors. He never
made it. I watched as the demon's razor claws tore their way through
Altor's stomach. Blood welled up over the claws protruding from Altor,
before his body was lifted from my sight. I heard a slippery wrench,
and blood fell from the above the double doors.
I averted my eyes, turned around. The spell had activated a gateway.
A large, purple, swirling gateway. I heard the crash of stone being
rent behind me. Something small flew over my head and went through the
portal. Altor's torso, from his waist up, disappeared in the swirling
mist. The demon broke through the remaining walls. More explosions
occurred as the larger batteries began to explode. The demon made
pounding steps as it ran toward me.
A gold box clattered to the floor from some hiding place above me,
shook free by the trembling motion of the demon. Should I grab it? I
grabbed it and jumped through the portal backwards. I saw the demon
leap at the gate as it came through after me.
I landed on a beach. The purple misty doorway was empty. I canceled
the spell, whatever it was. Too late. The demon pushed its head and a
hand through. The doorway disappeared; the demon's head, along with
it's hand, fell to the ground with sickening thuds. I wretched.
I opened the box, and beheld with amazement: several jewels of great
power were there, along with a crystalized black lotus. A gauntlet of
might, made for a right hand, would fit quite well where my arm was
missing. I walked down the beach, past the remains of the demon and of
Altor, and summoned a new planeswalking gate. I returned to Andoral.
Chapter 8
Upon returning to Andoral, I was able to persuade some craftsmen to
animate and construct an attachment upon which the gauntlet could be
set. When their work was done, I had a nicely working prosthesis that I
could use almost as well as the missing hand it replaced.
It was about this time that I truly noticed the lack of planeswalkers.
The lines of power were, to my gifted eye, silent. Not a breath or hint
of planeswalker magic could be seen, save my own. But magic was still
present. The motion was there, as if the lines were being drawn upon.
Instead of the guided stream, there was only the evaporation of water.
The magic was being...siphoned? The words escape me.
With the new-found powers given to me by the gauntlet of might and the
strange jewels, I decided to return to Aeroon, the plane where I had
first confronted Elrohir. When I arrived, things were not as I had
expected. The plane was alive with the power of magic. Waves of magic
cascaded in one direction: towards Elrohir's tower.
I took a step; the ground, which had seconds before been covered with
snow, was now a thick bog, with a matching humidity. With each step,
the environment shifted. From bog to desert to savannah, it was never
the same place twice. I could see always in the distance Elrohir's
tower, but superimposed over it was the guise of whatever plane I was
currently "occupying". I could sometimes see cities, vast oceans (I
even walked into one or two), travelers following a road. Once I even
saw the Brokahren plateau, where I had once made my home.
Initially, this chaos made little sense. The magic. If I watched long
enough, I could see that whatever plane I "occupied" fed its magic into
the plane of Aeroon. The merging of realities, the plane-shifting. The
World Spell was entering its final stages. The multiverse was becoming,
slowly, a single universe.
Soon, the planes began to merge together, shifting through the myriad
planes even when I wasn't moving. Elrohir's tower grew closer and
closer. My sight blurred. Magic pulled faster towards Elrohir's tower
the closer I got to it. The magic pulled...
Two children sat together, playing. The older one delighted in
tormenting the younger. Both were boys, children of two mage-born
parents. Elrohir and Jarel...
The mindblock shattered. Memories returned. My brother had
disappeared when he was very young. My older brother. Elrohir. Hated
words of my past echoed forth in time to me: "This isn't the last time
you see me, Brother." Words that I knew at the time were true, but did
not believe.
Elrohir's tower. I finally reached it. The light in the uppermost
room was gone. Around me the raging storm of Aeroon's current ice age
blew around once again. I turned and looked back; nothing. Blackness.
Nonexistance. All that survived was myself, this tower, and whatever
was contained within. I entered the tower.
Or I deluded myself into believing I did. I found myself floating
among the stars. Looking back again, the doorway through which I had
entered was gone. Facing forward again, I saw Elrohir's body, aged, and
recently, lifeless. Had the power been too much for him? I caused
myself to somehow float to his body. All was calm here, contrasting
with the outside forces I had witnessed. I grabbed Elrohir's hand, and
the calm entered my body...
I felt myself leave my body behind. Was I dead? It didn't matter,
since everything else was. Or was it? Was this all just a ruse by
Elrohir to keep me occupied while he finished his spell? Again, did it
matter? I put my head in my hands and wept. Wait. Hands? I only have
one...No, both of them were there now. My eye saw once again. The
damage was repaired?
"Hello Brother." Elrohir's voice came from all around and nowhere at
once. "Welcome, and make yourself comfortable." I drifted in the
nothing that surrounded me. There was nothing to comfort me.
"Where are you, Elrohir? Why have you done this?" I yelled into the darkness.
"You are for the World Spell, Jarel. I've told you this before. You
have been so from the beginning." The stars faded from the sky. "Have
you decided yet? ‘I would either hinder him in his quest, or help him'
you once thought. There has been plenty of time since then. Would you
take the power of the gods to reforge the world in your image, or simply
hinder one who would do that in your stead? You wouldn't hinder your
own brother, would you?"
Suggestions, questions, impossibilities passed through my head. Could
I hurt him? I should hurt him, destroy him. I cannot destroy him.
Confusion reigned above all.
The stars glowed brighter. They began to shape a form. A human form.
A being of starlight, a being of power. I beheld a god, and he was
Elrohir. My brother.
"You need not be left out of this power, Jarel. You need only to help
me." There was a desperate tinge to his voice. "The power
is...difficult...to control, Jarel. Help me?" It was more than
desperation in his voice. Fear. He had sought to control something
beyond his comprehension.
"How can I help you, Brother?" I whispered. My throat clenched. He
was my brother. As long as I lived, I would drop everything to help
him. Nothing would stop me...But death? Could I defeat death itself?
Annihilation, the end of existence? Oblivion?
Oblivion was what I faced. If my brother could not control what he had
unleashed, all that was and would be would never again be.
"Brother? Will you help me? I thought to fix the worlds, thought I
could make them better. I was wrong. It was not for me, but for you.
The World Spell is for you! I spoke of it so long without knowing the
meaning of what I said, but now it is clear."
My brother spoke in riddles. How could the World Spell be for me?
Sleeth appeared. A lone sleeth at first, followed by many. Sleeth?
Here? Everything was gone. Unless the sleeth were from before? Before
the multiverse? More words from the past: "Only the owner of the Ark of
Fire can survive the wrath of the sleeth! You are always destroying
them!" The Ark of Fire?
"You are the Ark of Fire, Jarel. I've known it from the beginning.
That is why I didn't destroy you. I could not. The Ark of Fire is what
created it all from nothing. Only you can complete the World Spell.
Only you."
The Ark of Fire? Again? The sleeth closed in on my brother. They tore
into the shining light that he was, rending him. I didn't think, I only
reacted. I screamed. The sleeth were annihilated. The Ark of Fire.
The forge of creation.
My brother was wounded, dying. The light that he was faded, dimmed. I
reached out for him...
We merged. Drew together. Jarel, Elrohir, both of us different faces
of the same being. The knowledge, the power, both were indescribable.
My brother's presence faded, then disappeared. I was left alone, the
only thing in existence, with my brother's accumulated knowledge and
power. It unlocked understanding deep within my being.
I saw the mistakes my brother had made. The wrong moves he had made.
The sleeth came again, this time for me. But they were mine. The Ark
of Fire. I destroyed them.
A fire burning brightly in the darkness, I began to unravel and reverse
my brother's World Spell.
To Be Continued.
Elrohir, God of Wisdom
General of the 1st and 2nd Atog Wars.