| abstract
| - "So you stand against us as an enemy now, Myr of Stone Deep." Tralin frowned. "So be it... We shall cut you down as surely as any of The'Galin's other servitors." "You fervently serve Lorithia by denying my impact, but I, too, am part of creation. You can deny me all you wish, Lizard King, but I will reign in this world still ages and ages after your children's children are dead." "Enough lies and enough discussion.... Darin and Kithia, to me... T'Palo, my son stands at the western gate. Lacking magic, you are best served by holding the command there" Myr withdrew into the group in which he stood with a grimace... "Kill the lizard king and his puppet governor, then burn the K'eld to the ground... turning every one of its inhabitants into mindless undead minions." On Tralin's command, we took off in our separate directions and began the battle in earnest, the Drakel at the front proving their skill in magic and their dedication to the elemental spheres. If will alone could defeat the Devourer, he would fall here at K'eld Ner, but will was not enough and as many of the fallen began to succumb to the dark magic, the crowd was as soon fighting former friends as it was the Uncreator's front line. There was an audible pop then and Myr and a central contingent vanished outright. Such teleportative magics were not unknown.... Had I not traveled recently in such a way? Indeed, Tralin himself employed teleportative magic and was an expert at it amongst the School of Thought, but I had never seen them on such an overt scale. Moments later, I saw their group at the Eastern Gate and passing through, Myr at their head. "My king... they wish to keep us trapped as they storm the gate. We must go!" I called, but even as I said it, I knew it was in vain. Teleportation took much effort... Even if Tralin could manage it, after such a fight, he would be depleted when he faced the Uncreator. We had no recourse but to fight our way through his armies that remained to the gate ourselves. Tralin and Kithia whirled after the necromancers, flinging their magic at the creatures and driving them back under the force of their combined might. If there was anything more fearsome than the king alone, it was the king with his chosen life mate. I suddenly could appreciate the way their differences complimented each other all the more. The battle had gone poorly for us, though we had gained the upper hand by pressing at them from multiple flanks. I had ordered the citizenry brought out to hiding and Jano and the prince were leading them even now through the opposite gate and through the Water Caster city. Tralin's army had provided distraction for their exodus and I only hoped it was enough. By now, the armies proper turned and fled to regroup. I looked to the far gate, searching around for Myr, and saw that he was gone and knew then what that meant. The necromancer fighting the king was covering his escape into the mountain. As the last necromancer died and as the few remaining undead were cut down by the De'me'thar army, I moved to pursue Myr and the other necromancers, but Tralin shook his head, determined. "We must look after the fallen. Either to heal those we can or put to rest those we cannot. If we do not, we will be surrounded on all sides. Myr has been long lost to us, Darin. He is Myr no longer. The'Galin lives." As much as I wanted to deny that the shadow priest was the vessel of the Uncreator among us, the fact was no longer in dispute. I knew that the manifestation had already happened and the pieces of the Brilhado plan all fit together. Drakath was a pawn just as Akriloth had been. Resigned, I stopped, and we worked our way across the field toward the mountain, dealing with the fallen. "Father, Mother, Lord Governor," the prince said, wiping his sword on the grass, his face betraying extreme distress even though his voice was calm. "What is it?" I asked. "I lay my life in your hands," he said to his father then. "Your T'palo has died by my sword." "What?" I said in horror. "Jano is dead?" "Show us," Kithia said to her son, and he led us to Jano's fallen form. "He fought and killed that necromancer over there," the prince said, turning to me and gesturing at the particularly battered corpse; one of the lavender wings was missing entirely and the other was barely attached. "He made up for his limited grasp of magic with a very keen observation of his opponent's movements. The necromancer was going to take the children. Jano would not let him." "What happened to him then?" Tralin asked. "I had to kill him. The necromancer had wounded him terribly and though he seemed to be recovering, he complained of the Cold." I suppressed a shudder; knowing what the Cold meant made its import all the more dreadful. "He commanded I take his life," the prince said. "Undeath spreads quickly," Kithia confirmed. "He commanded me, Father," the prince said fearfully, his voice no longer holding back the emotions his face displayed. "I did not know what to do. He was your T'palo, and it is forbidden to harm a chosen ambassador, but he ordered it. Even though he had always accepted me as his prince. I came after him and yet he still treated me as I was his better." "Your actions were correct. Go tend to the children," Tralin ordered. The prince did not wait; he moved to flee, a mixture of emotions playing across his face, and then, as he left, he turned to me. "He was your friend. He told me more than once that he loved you as his brother. I am sorry, Darin." It was the first time the prince had ever used my name when speaking to me. I watched him leave and then gazed at the ground. I stood there like that for several moments, gazing down at the form of the friend I had known for nearly all of my adult life. Inside, I felt the emptiness begin to grow again, and so, to honor my friend, I forced myself to cry. I knew that if I allowed a return to the behaviors that had been my steadfast defense in ages past, all was lost. What kind of honor would I give my friend if I not only did not cry for him, but also turned to cold stone, unmoved by his passing? Were I to become so cold, the Uncreator would surely have won. So I did cry there and in that place, at first gentle tears, but as surely as my coldness would have crushed me, the warmth overwhelmed me as well, and so I cried hot ragged sobbing, the kind of emotion I had never been allowed to show. Right there in that place, I cried for Jano and for all the others whom the fear of one man had been condemned to destruction. I cried for my homeland of Vandar, which seemed so far away from me now. I cried even for the Uncreator himself, that he had felt such fear that he could not see or know love. Then, thinking on all I had done before, I cried for the people that I had hurt in my ignorance. Finally, strengthened somehow by the tears, rather than weakened, I resolved to cry no further now. I did not feel the emptiness any longer, but I still felt a profound sense of loss. The Devourer would not take my soul with him this day. Gradually, the sadness too became a source of anger, a hot fire worse than the emptiness had ever produced. I might lament the sad state of the Devourer's soul, but I surely would not give him the courtesy of not being enraged by his fell malice. All the pain in the world was somehow tied to this one man's terror. His fear, which had heretofore been a paranoid fantasy, would destroy the world if unabated. "No," I said aloud, causing Kithia and Tralin to turn to me. I saw in the king's face then the anger he had shown only once before, at the death of Draynor. I had not understood then as I did now that such anger was a necessity for survival. Seeing my resolve shared served to strengthen it. "He is gone, Lord Governor. There is nothing any of us can do," the queen said with concern. "Denial is natural, but the people need you." I was confused for the briefest second, and then understood that she took my "no" to be a denial of Jano's death. "My queen, you misinterpret my denial. I deny not his death. I deny the will of the Uncreator in this world. He has lived in fear of us for so long." I paused and looked at Tralin and broke into a grim smile. "I think it time his terror be realized."
|