Lord of Shadows

The Treachery of Gods

Shamans are troubling creatures.

Serving no god but nature itself, they are almost completely unpredictable, though they will usually look out for the environment. That’s where they take their power. Shamans, instead of manipulating the etherstrands, cut them, focusing the massive amounts of energy released into their purposes. Energy released from severed strands is versatile, and can be used for almost anything. There is one small side effect.

The strand, and anything connected to it, dies.

No one can be taught to be a shaman. They’re born, not bred. If a being is born with the skill to sever etherstrands, they will realize their power sometime in the teens. It awakens differently for each person. I saw it happen once.

I was on the job, making my way through Traes Bon, a pristine city on the banks of the Onyx. I was walking by the river, which ran through the middle of the city, when I heard screaming. I looked to the water. A girl, probably around fifteen years old was out on the water. Not in the water. Walking on the water. Her fists were clenched tightly in her hair, and she screamed, eyes turned towards her feet. I could see why. Floating up around her were thousands and thousands of small fish, their etherstrands severed. They were very dead. A quartet of Compendium mages teleported in, grabbed her, and left just as suddenly. I could almost pity her – kids like that don’t have a future.

I’ve killed two shamans. If I weren’t skilled enough to protect my ether from their attacks, the fights would have been remarkably… short.

The first was Charcoal, an angry young shaman whose wife and children had been murdered by the Compendium for political reasons. He was supposed to be dead, but shamans are notorious for not going peacefully. Neither are assassins, I suppose. The Compendium sent me after him, and he wasn’t very hard to find. Charcoal liked to burn things, and he left a trail of torched buildings, scorched ground, and blackened skeletons. I found him a few days west of the Compendium outside of a small village. He was holed up in his summer retreat, a massive fort-like building.

It was easy enough for me to sneak inside. In his rage, it seemed he had burned his servants and guards alive. Flesh boils in plate armor, and it wasn’t a very pretty sight. But it’s been a long time since anything made my stomach turn.

He was in the courtyard, methodically burning his pennants of station, long hair clumped with dirt, and a wild light in his eyes. Small birds fell from the parapets every few seconds, their etherstrands cut. I used Ether-cutter to launch a blast of energy at his back, but he detected it, managing to dodge. Barely. He glared at me, screaming in fury, and I was suddenly encased in a wall of flame. Using my own powers, I set etherwards upon myself and leaped through the conjured flames.

He was surprised, surprised enough for my knife to find his throat without further incident.

The other encounter was a bit different. It was a female shaman, and she was the one who came after me. I never got her name, but she had four arms and a nasty laugh. I was down by the docks in the Compendium, scouting the area for my next job, when I felt the ethers shift. I rolled behind a stack of packing crates just in time to avoid a sizzling bolt of lightning. Then she laughed, and I saw her standing amidst the banners atop a warehouse. She was arrogant. She was dead.

I dropped silently into the water and made my way behind her, scaling the wall of the building. She was intently scanning the waters below her, but her eyes weren’t so useful in a few seconds, and her body tumbled into the waves.

Jerzanan, though he claimed to be a shaman, was entirely different from those two. Shamans have unique ether signatures, somehow tainted from their intimate connection with the ethers. His was different. It didn’t have the same taint, but it had something else, a kind of pulse. It felt dark. It felt alive.

I believe it was chaos.

I managed to keep my senses as we hurtled into the air, the shabby hovel on the plains beneath us reduced to the size of a fingernail. Jerzanan tilted his head back, and seemed to be laughing, though I couldn’t hear anything over the wind. I took a moment to study him.

His features were slowly shifting, revealing himself to be a bit less inconspicuous than he’d seemed earlier. He was adept at altering appearances, apparently. Long, shockingly red hair jutted from his scalp, framing a pale face. His eyes were steel-grey, betraying nothing of his emotions. Black robes enfolded his body, long sleeves concealing his hands. The robes seemed somehow untouched by the wind. However it turned out, any talk we had with him would certainly be interesting.

We began to slow, landing on a floating brick pavilion surrounded by clouds. Jerzanan dropped himself into a hammock strung out between two tall wooden poles, while Firannikus and I found ourselves facing him in comfortable lounge chairs.

The shaman sat up, crossing his legs, and faced us, one finger lightly tapping his pointed chin. “We don’t get many visitors here in Void.”

“I can’t see why,” Firannikus said. “Fantastic tourism industry you could have here with the pleasant fields, sunny days, and burning villages.”

The grey eyes were mirrors. Dark mirrors. “Yes. Well. What are you doing here then? The only reason beings come from outside is, well…” Jerzanan shrugged. “To die.”

I reached beneath my collar, fiddling with Prophet’s chain. “A multitude of reasons. A search for power and the wrath of a god, mostly. Not exactly of our free will, but… It might prove advantageous.”

The shaman’s eyes narrowed. “Advantageous? Any advantage to be had in Void is already held by…” He trailed off, frowning. “One of them. If there’s anything here worthwhile to find, they’ll have it. But first, what do you think you can accomplish here?”

I glanced to Firannikus, and the half-demon spoke. “Witchstone.”

The mirror shattered for an instant, revealing shock. And then it was back. He laughed sharply. “You and everyone else.”

I was taken aback. “Uhm. What?”

He stopped laughing. “You don’t know? Even with that abomination hanging around your neck, you don’t know?” He gestured at Prophet. “I would have thought she’d told you.”

“I don’t know what game she’s playing, but she doesn’t seem very interested in keeping us informed. What in the name of the Gods are you talking about?”

He stood up from the hammock and began to pace, remaining silent. I looked to Firannikus, alarmed to see the half-demon groan, covering his face with his hands.

“I knew she would do it,” he laughed.

I stood up, frustrated, glaring at Jerzanan. “Did what? Why is everyone looking for Witchstone? Why is Molgedden keeping us in the dark? Why isn’t Void more… chaotic? Something is happening. Tell me.”

The shaman stood at the edge of the pavilion, his back to me, and whispered something. Something I heard very clearly.

“It’s war. A war of the gods.”

I sat back down. “Oh.”

Firannikus moved his hands away from his face, an odd look in his flashing eyes. “It’s been building, the tension, for a long time. There are no “good” gods anymore. They only care for power. Prestige. Followers. Devotion. And what do they think the best way is to gain it all?” He chuckled grimly. “Where does one turn to worship-”

“When there is only one god left?” Jerzanan interrupted. “It’s nothing but a struggle for power, and none of them care how much is destroyed as long as they have what’s left.”

Figures. I nodded slowly. “Witchstone is an incredible source of power, and the war explains why the gods are suddenly after it. Whoever controls the most Witchstone has the most power.”

The shaman nodded, pacing along the edge of his floating island. “Something like that. More power for the war, anyway.”

“If there really is a war, something doesn’t make sense,” I said. “Why is Molgedden ignoring the advantage we could give her, especially while I hold Prophet?” I rolled up one my sleeves a bit, showing Jerzanan the writhing black lines on my flesh. “She did mark me, after all.”

Firannikus stood, stepping lightly from foot to foot, a dark look on his face. “Either the goddess is stupid, which I refuse to believe, or…”

“Or what?” I prompted.

“Or she’s keeping us in the dark to keep us out of her way.” He smiled. A cold smile, one very reminiscent of his days spent under the influence of Asylum. “She’s afraid of us. Of you.”

I laughed bitterly. “Maybe before she had reason, when I only had the scythe. But she marked me. My will if hers, if she truly wishes to take it.”

I was very conscious of Prophet pulsing against my chest. Pulsing weakly.

Firannikus and the shaman exchanged a brief glance, and I noticed Jerzanan carefully considering my eyes. He answered me. “Your heritage. She doesn’t know if she’s strong enough to kill what’s in your blood.”

Of course. It always comes back to the blood. I shrugged. “My mysterious mother, I assume?”

Neither of them offered an answer, and I didn’t push. I was sick of caring.

“I see. So there’s a war. Where do we fit into it?”

Jerzanan smiled slightly. “Don’t include me in your plans. Whatever they are, I won’t be involved. I have… business that is yet to be taken care of.”

Fine with me. He seemed trustworthy enough, but that was all on the outside. I still couldn’t read his eyes. I turned to Firannikus. “It seems to me as if there is only one intelligent course to take. If Molgedden believes we can make enough of a difference in this war for her to fear us, I say we choose sides.”

The half-demon nodded. “Reasonable enough. But which side.”

“We’ll have to see,” I said, smiling. “Whoever holds the most power seems like a good choice. If we’re going to get involved, I don’t plan on losing.”

His eyes flashed. Blue to red to black. “Neither do I.” His eyes went to the amulet around my neck, the chain of which seemed quite cold. “Your weapon might have something to say about it, however. The goddess might not be pleased by our decision.”

Ah. Right. I opened a link to Prophet.

You’re toying with dangerous thoughts, Caervas.

There’s an encouraging conversation opener. It might be different if the goddess hadn’t kept me in the dark. What kind of web is she weaving, and why does she want me stuck in it?

Don’t presume to question the immortal mind. If you weren’t…

Out of her reach? Yes, well, I am. I won’t be trifled with, even if she is a goddess.

Arrogance. Do you honestly think you can fight the will of Molgedden?

Yes.

The link abruptly snapped, and I could feel the avatar pulsing angrily against my chest. “Understandably, Prophet is not particularly happy about our plans. But the goddess has little influence here.”

Firannikus frowned. “The weapon is still powerful, though. Can you keep it under control?”

I considered the question a moment, reaching into the ethers and examining the essence of the amulet. It was not near as strong as it had been in my own plane, but it was still powerful. Very much so. “Possibly. It might be best if I could bind it into its current form for the time being, but it will be far too strong once we return…” I stopped, realizing I had no idea how, or even if, we could leave Void.

Jerzanan stepped forward, speaking carefully. “I might be able to help you. I can bind the amulet here; it’s not so difficult a task. There is also a way I know of that would allow you to return to your plane. You might be bale to find some Witchstone on the way. And I might,” he said slowly, his eyes looking to my covered arms, “know how to free you and your weapon from the bindings of the goddess.”

Interesting. “But you didn’t want any part of our plans.”

He nodded. “There’s something I need, something you can probably assist me in… retrieving. All of your goals can be accomplished in one place, and so can mine. It might prove advantageous for me to help you, if you agree to help me.”

Firannikus narrowed his eyes. “Explain.”

“Don’t worry about what I need, I can take care of it when the time comes. But as to your problems…” He began to pace again, making a circuit around his pavilion, hands clasped behind his back. “If you know anything at all about Void, you know it is the home of Ixx, the home of all chaos. When I was first banished here, a story for a different time, Void lived up to its name. There was nothing but a roiling sea of chaos, dark matter flowing across the entire plane.”

I sat down in his hammock. He didn’t seem to notice. “What changed?”

He smiled oddly, eyes focused somewhere in the skies. “The war came. And with the war came preparations, changes, and, most of all, alliances. Alliances that would have been absurd in earlier times. At that point, Void was still sealed. But that didn’t last.”

I heard a sharp intake of breath, and looked to Firannikus. His eyes flashed rapidly. “Someone broke the seal. But who? Either Virnis or Relefoan, curses to them both.”

Jerzanan shrugged. “It was Virnis. Rather ironic, actually, the God of Order unsealing the God of Chaos. But he had his motives, and they had nothing to do with keeping any sort of order. All their titles are meaningless now anyway, they’re all after the same thing.”

“So they made an alliance,” I said. “How did that change Void from what it was to…” I shrugged, waving an arm to encompass the vast plains beneath us.

The shaman spoke slowly, almost, but not quite, in awe. “It’s incredible really, and I still don’t know how they accomplished it. Chaos in raw form is the most powerful substance in existence. If its energy could be harnessed, the benefits would be incredible. But that’s the thing about chaos – It can’t be controlled. Well. Couldn’t. Until Virnis came, and then he changed something. All I know is that somehow, using Witchstone, Virnis was able to place the essence of order around Void, molding the chaos into usable forms. Ixx agreed to share the power of chaos with Virnis, and Virnis agreed to mold it, allowing Ixx to focus its power.”

Firannikus shook his head. “Perversion of nature. Of reality, even. It’s insane, obscene, yet somehow it works.”

Jerzanan grimaced. “Yes. I find it… most troubling.”

I shifted in the hammock, sitting up and fiddling with Bloodwatch. “How long has all of this been going on?”

“Not very long at all. The war has been in the works for eons, but hostilities only came out in the open very recently.”

I frowned. “How recently? All I’ve seen is one village, but, from the sound of it, Void is populated, and has been for quite some time.”

Jerzanan laughed. A short, harsh laugh. “It’s a facade, a way for Ixx to revert to its chaotic ways. It hates the order. The villages, towns, everything is false, a temporary manifestation of order. I’m guessing you witnessed a purge?”

I glanced towards Firannikus. “If you mean the complete eradication of a village by some kind of flamebeings, then yes, we witnessed a purge.”

He nodded. “Those would be the Unrighteous, the beings who compose Ixx’s ranks of minions. Every few cycles, Ixx will raise up a city or village out of nothing for a time, and then send out the Unrighteous to burn it to ground, reveling in the chaos.”

The half-demon stood, fiddling with his cape. “Sounds like something I’d expect of Ixx, anyway. But enough of the documentary. You said you could help us. How?”

“Virnis is weakened by the chaos in Void, and reverts to a corporeal form so as not to tax his powers. He resides in the only static structure in this plane, a massive palace a quite a bit south of here. Even though he’s in flesh, he is still extremely powerful, and retains all the abilities of godhood. Except instantaneous movement. Therefore, the portal.”

Ah. “The portal?”

“Yes. A dimensional portal for traveling between the planes. If you focus, you should be able to return to your own plane. Also in the palace is a storehouse of Witchstone, which you might want, the item I’m looking for, which I will take care of, and the altar.”

“An altar? This altar has something to do with removing the bindings of Molgedden?”

“Exactly. We’ll need Witchstone before we reach it, but that won’t be a problem. Nothing will be very difficult once we are in the palace, but then… that may prove difficult. I can’t teleport straight in; Virnis has wards set that would tear us to shreds. And Ixx has guards set around the perimeter. Many guards.”

I looked to Firannikus, smiling coldly, and saw a similar smile play across his own features. “That’s alright. We can take care of the guards.”

Jerzanan’s eyes became unfocused for a moment, but then he nodded. “There will be more forms of the Unrighteous than you’ve seen before, and the palace will probably be guarded by at least one of Ixx’s generals.”

I frowned. “Generals? I thought Ixx’s creations were all temporary forms, without individuality?”

“All but the generals, yes. Virnis requested that Ixx create generals for the organization of the chaos armies. The mass chaos was a bit much for the God of Order to stand, I suppose. Anyway, Ixx created five generals to help order his armies. Leech, Malice, Hysteria, Facade, and Everburn. They are all extremely intelligent, ruthless, and far beyond insane. Virnis has at least one guarding the palace at all times, but reading your ether signatures, I doubt we’ll run into any real trouble.”

He motioned to Prophet. “I’ll bind that avatar now. It shouldn’t be very difficult, but… keep your guard up.”

I stood, and he stepped forward, raising his hands. The amulet rose up from my jacket, gleaming darkly as it floated before me. His fingers began to twitch slightly, and I looked at his hands. The fingers were long, and covered in small, white, curving scars. He didn’t have any fingernails.

His fingers stopped twitching and crackling blue ice began to flow out from the tips, obscuring the obsidian surface of Prophet. A link blossomed suddenly in my mind, and a roar of black rage took hold of my thoughts. The tendons in my neck stretched taut, and Molgedden’s fury continued to the tear across the planes and straight into my mind. She didn’t want this. Not at all.

And then it was over, the amulet dropping weakly against my chest. I opened my eyes, which was odd, considering I hadn’t realized they were closed, to see hammock at eye level in front of me. Funny, considering I hadn’t realized I was kneeling, either. I shakily tried to stand, and realized Jerzanan was sitting in the hammock, leaning forward with a hand outstretched. I took it wordlessly, coming to my feet and leaning on one of the hammock posts. Prophet felt heavier than usual, and the power I could sense from it was very muffled, almost unrecognizable.

Jerzanan laughed quietly, leaning back in the hammock. “Well, it worked. Apparently she wants you, and the weapon, under her control more than we realized.”

My eyes went cold, remembering her scream. “All the more reason to get out from under her thumb. I refuse to be at anyone’s mercy. Not even that of a goddess.”

Firannikus coughed behind me. I turned, seeing him standing at the edge of the pavilion, staring at the ground far, far below. “If the weapon is taken care of, we might as well get going. We should be out of here before nightfall, and begin building a power base as soon as we can.” He turned, his eyes gleaming. “It’s time we got involved in this war.”

I took out Bloodwatch and Ether-cutter, placing etherstrands around them to strengthen the blades. “I couldn’t agree more.”

- - -

It didn’t take us long to reach the palace, one of the advantages of working with a shaman. The pavilion turned out to double as transportation, gliding through the air with relative ease, and Jerzanan did not seem to be exerting himself. I’d look down from time to time during the flight, noting the huge swath of blackened, dead grass we were leaving in our wake.

Jerzanan noticed me looking once. He chuckled. “One of the nice features of living her is that all of that will be back tomorrow. Chaos breeds chaos, I suppose, and that’s all there really is here.”

I nodded to him, turning back to watch the plains roll by. I could care less what died, as long as we got to the palace. In my line of work, you learn that there are never any innocents.

Just obstacles.

The palace was as impressive as one could expect from a god. Sheer black walls rose to an incredible height, forming a four-sided pyramid. Their surfaces shifted oddly, catching the light and then changing it, sending it back out in reflections that seemed just a bit off.

That’s what you get when you build with chaos, I suppose.

There appeared to be only one door into the palace, a black recess in the building’s side that we were approaching. About a mile from the pyramid the grass began to die off, and the ground next to the obsidian walls from barren and cracked. It was almost a straight shot from our airy position to the door. Well, it would have been if it weren’t so crowded.

Jerzanan’s warning had been well founded, and the palace was surrounded by the Unrighteous. There were the flamebeings, the type we’d seen before, but there were also several new varieties. Creatures reminiscent of the khesahn prowled around the palace grounds, dark, twitching tentacles sprouting from their spines. Behemoths guarded the very base of the tower, massive creatures with scaly skin and eyes that seemed to hold oblivion. At the edge of the grounds, where the grass was just starting to die, were what seemed to be patrols. These were composed of five to seven creatures who bore a remarkable resemblance to humans that would have been uncanny if there eye sockets had not been empty, and if they had possessed arms to grip the weapons that were floating along in front of them. Most impressive of all, however, was the being at the top of the palace.

The shaman pointed a scarred finger at the figure, large enough to see clearly even from a distance. “Aha. Looks like we’ll be dealing with Everburn today. He’s probably the least dangerous of the five, but still…”

The warning wasn’t very necessary. Any being who looked like this was a being I was prepared to take seriously.

Everburn bore a close resemblance to the flamebeings we’d killed earlier, but almost his entire body was covered by the chaos armor. Large, overlapping plates protected his form, leaving only the hands, the feet, and the head exposed. His form burned a deep red, almost a violet, and large ivory spikes rose from his shoulders to frame a terror of a face. While the flames of his face were the same color as those of his hands and feet, his blazing eyes were a sick, dead yellow color. The entire image was a bit unsettling, and it wasn’t hard to see why Ixx had created him in that form.

I turned to Firannikus, narrowing my eyes. “Looks like it could be a challenge.”

The half-demon shrugged nonchalantly, but his eyes were shifting colors more rapidly than I’d seen since I stuck Asylum in his gut. “I certainly hope so. He has quite the image to live up to.” He turned to Jerzanan. “Anything else we need to know before the slaughter?”

The guarded eyes seemed to consider for a moment, and then the shaman shook his head. “All you need to do is kill. I’ll help somewhat, but I need to focus on canceling out the ethers of the Unrighteous so chaos can’t regenerate them.”

I frowned. “We know you’re powerful, but are you saying the combined forces of one of Ixx’s generals and the God of Order won’t be enough to overcome you.”

He chuckled at this. “Ixx gave the generals no power to manipulate the ethers, probably to make sure they aren’t too powerful. They all have powers though, not stronger than those of the ethers, but not weaker either, though they’re a bit more confined in what they can do. As for Virnis, he’s a very arrogant god, and won’t give any thought to our attack. I don’t believe he even knows we’re here. It’s possible that we might have to deal with him inside the palace, but if we do…” He smiled. A dark, secret smile. “I have something that should keep him off our backs.”

I looked to Firannikus and nodded. He gave me a feral grin in return, and I turned to Jerzanan. “Alright then, take us down. We’ll have a path cleared to the door quickly.”

The shaman nodded, and we dropped. We didn’t glide to the ground, we didn’t float down, and we didn’t ride the air currents. We dropped.

About a man’s height from the ground Firannikus and I leaped off, landing lightly on the grass. I pulled Bloodwatch and Ether-cutter from my belt, leaving Prophet hanging around my neck. It was chilly against my neck. Hopefully I could trust it enough to wield again soon, it was far too valuable a tool to keep out of battle.

Beside me, Firannikus drew his gleaming sword from its sheath, concentrating briefly and sending a wave of blue fire blazing up its length. The blade seemed to shimmer slightly and then broke in twain, leaving him wielding a sword in each hand. He turned to me, and then looked back to the palace. I made a mental note to ask where he’d found the weapon. It was quite the toy.

I felt an immense blast of power shake the etherstrands behind me, and green energy crackled over our heads, drawing a tight noose about each and every one of the Unrighteous, cutting them off from the ethers. Thank you, Jerzanan.

As a whole, the army of Ixx turned to regard us, eyes aflame in various hues.

I saw Everburn’s head snap sharply in our direction, and a sudden roar blasted through the plains, and also in my head. Devour the intruders! Souls will go to Ixx today, and let it be known to the reason of all beings Unrighteous. Attack!

A chorus of unholy howls and deep, earth-shaking bellows shook the ground around us, and the army of Chaos began to march.

Firannikus and I moved apart; we both fought best on our own. Jerzanan took the pavilion up a short distance into the air, enough to be out of reach of even the behemoths, which stood at several times the height of a man.

It is said that war is chaos. True enough, and doubly true when one must go to war against chaos itself.

The patrols were the first to reach us, running swiftly across the ground with weapons waving in front of them. Most of them controlled crude swords, but a few were wielding long pole arms. As the first group neared me I leaped over their heads, twisting in the air to land facing their backs. I waded in, daggers ripping crosswise through pale flesh. As my daggers landed killing blows, the creatures would burst into a fine black dust, their weapons falling to the ground with a thud.

They were running in a tightly packed group, and, catching them off guard, I made short work of them. I spared a glance to Firannikus, and he seemed to be doing equally well. Then the next wave hit.

I didn’t bother leaping over these, instead catching the first two sword slashes on my daggers, ducking a pole arm, and sending out a quick ether burst to knock them all back slightly. I flipped the swords into the air, flinging them back into the chests of their wielders with etherstrands. Moving swiftly, I pivoted, dodging a thrust from another pole arm. I whipped Bllodwatch and Ether-cutter into the chest of two of the beings, and snatched the pole arm out of the air. There was momentary resistance, but I easily overpowered it.

I braced the shaft against the ground and hurled myself into the air, dropping back down to plant the business end of the weapon into the ground between the last creature’s legs. The pole arm’s shaft was made of supple wood and I bent it backwards, then released it to crush the being’s skull. I called Bloodwatch and Ether-cutter back into my hands, and turned to survey the battlefield.

Firannikus was just finishing off another patrol, the flames lining his swords blazing brightly as he decapitated one of the Unrighteous. There were a few patrols left, but they appeared to be… otherwise engaged. One of the groups was currently fleeing, chased by the weapons that they had been controlling. The only evidence of others were piles of discarded weapons lying amidst mounds of dark powder.

I turned back to Jerzanan, and he gave me a nod, brow furrowed in concentration. Shamans seemed to be fairly useful after all.

The black dust of dead creature’s covered me, and I grimaced as I wiped my face. Not a pleasant taste, that. The essence of chaos would never make a good meal.

With the patrols vanquished, an obscene number of the flamebeings rushed towards us, and interspersed among them were what I began to think of Ixx’s khesahn I narrowed my eyes. There were far too many of the blazing creatures to take on in close combat.

I concentrated briefly, delving into the etherstrands around us. Jerzanan’s power lanced out of his body in thick green strands, weaving through the chaos army and binding their links to the ether. I looked down into the ground, deeper, deeper…

There.

The earth rippled in front of me, breaking and cracking. The flamebeings suddenly stopped, steps faltering, as more than half of their number dropped into the chasm I’d opened at their feet. Flaws in the rock do have their uses.

They stared at me from across the gap, gibbering and whispering in some sort of mad language. It was only thirty feet, perhaps, but it was wide. And then another great roar split the air and my consciousness. Chaos in order and order in the chaos our chaos my chaos his chaos and we will not be restrained!

A great force materialized suddenly, and the flaming creatures were thrown across the canyon. Keening, throaty howls ripped through the air and the khesahn creatures leapt after them, clearing the distance with ease. They would be the real fight.

I braced myself as the tide of flame approached, reaching into my cloak and pulling out a handful of throwing knives. It was time for speed. I wrapped etherstrands around my arms to enhance my speed, and then I started throwing. Each knife struck a black chest plate, the flames inside dissolving as the chaos armor dropped to the ground. Screams tore through the air, and I kept throwing until the flamebeings were upon me.

I drew Ether-cutter first, hurling blasts of ether into the ranks as I pulled out Bloodwatch. Asylum’s unique features weren’t much use against these, and it would be more of a danger to me than to my enemies. I jabbed the daggers into chests, ripping them out as quickly as I could and finding another target as I was swallowed by the mass of flame. The heat was intense, and I used an etherward to dampen it somewhat, but not before gaining some nice burns on my arms. I threw myself into their forces with greater ferocity, felling a hundred of the creatures in a minute.

I glimpsed a black cape hurtling through the air, and then Firannikus’s back was against mine, his blades throwing off blue flames that I could see at the edges of my vision. The flamebeings’ numbers were falling rapidly. I grinned slightly, allowing the fervor of the battle to take me. Suddenly, the fire in front of me split, creating a straight run for the khesahn rushing towards me, tentacles flailing. Its eyes were small, black orbs of fury.

I linked with Firannikus momentarily, outlining a plan. I felt his answering agreement, and then I jumped. He braced himself and I launched off his shoulders, flying towards the galloping beast. I planted my daggers in its eyes, flipping as I moved over its back. I landed on my feet, pulling as hard as I could, and managed to yank the creature over my head, hurling it forward and knocking a group of flamebeings with it into the chasm.

The blazing creatures closed in again, and I prepared myself for more fighting when there was a sudden flash of light. The flames receded, and I turned to see Firannikus floating in the air, surrounding by a nimbus of blue flame. He joined his swords together, and looked down, eyes flashing as he looked to me.

He opened a link with me. And this is why I love the power.

The light flashed again, and I saw a brilliant blue shard of light embed itself in each and every armored chest. Chaos armor dropped to the ground around us with a multitude of thuds. And then I ducked.

A mass of dark fur sailed over my head with an insane howl, landing heavily in front of me. One of the tentacles on its shoulders shot back and grasped for my leg, but I stuck it with one dagger and sliced off the end with the other. The rest of the writhing mass withdrew quickly, and the khesahnturned to face me. Well. I thought it had turned, until I realized that it was only the severed head sailing forward to drop at my feet.

Firannikus laughed and spun his blade in his hand. “There are certain advantages to having demonic blood.”

I frowned. If Firannikus was my father, then I would have to have demonic blood myself. “Do I have enough of your blood to utilize such a… skill?”

He laughed again. “No, not quite. Your blood is too mixed, but you might have other powers at your disposal. Eventually.”

A shadow fell across us, and we looked up to see Jerzanan peering down from the pavilion. “Stay on your guard. There are still the behemoths to deal with, and then Everburn himself.”

But of course. I nodded, turning to face the palace again. The behemoths were approaching slowly, and I could feel slight vibrations in the ground. The pavilion sped off before us, and I turned to Firannikus, catching his eye. “Two behemoths. One each.”

He grinned, pointed teeth gleaming darkly. “And then our friend the general. Let’s move.”

We began to sprint towards the behemoths, quickly overtaking Jerzanan. I made an easy, ether assisted leap across the chasm, while Firannikus was just suddenly there. Another advantage to the demonic blood, I suppose. And then we were facing the massive, scaly beasts.

They were roughly humanoid in shape, with a few rather conspicuous differences. They were covered in black, chaos-formed scales and had tails, along with pointed reptilian snouts. Firannikus linked with me, outlining an interesting plan. It was rather excellent, actually. I stopped running, crouching on the ground and making a step with my hands. The half-demon’s boot was soon there, and I threw him into the air, adding a bit of force with a tug on his etherstrands. I waited long enough to see him land on one of the behemoth’s head, and then I moved towards my own.

As large creatures tend to be, the beats were slow. It swung a fist down at me and I rolled, dodging easily and keeping my balance as the ground shook. I rolled through its legs and turned, leaping onto the back of its neck. It roared with fury and whipped its head back and forth, trying to turn enough to bite me. I held on tightly and, timing it carefully, flipped over the creature’s head and landing on its snout. The hollow eyes widened in momentary surprise, and then I ensured they would never see anything again. Flailing its arms, the behemoth fell onto its back, screaming in pain, and I plunged Bloodwatch into its chest.

I leapt to the side as the creature entered its death throes, landing and looking to Firannikus just in time to watch him drive his blade into his foe’s neck. He drew it out, the sword covered in black blood and ichor up the hilt, and dropped off its body, walking over to join me. He looked at the stains on his blade in disgust, then concentrated briefly. The blue flames flared along its length, and the black stains were gone. He looked as if he would speak, but was rudely interrupted.

The fires of Ixx will flay, flay, flay the skin from your bones, infants. We looked up to see Everburn crouched at the top of the pyramid, glaring down at us. The legions are the fodder, fodder for the strong, but the strong weaken, and then I feed. Feed. I like to Feed. I like it. I like it a lot. He cackled, quite the disturbing sound coming from a face without any visible mouth, and then he jumped.

Jerzanan opened a link to me. Careful with this one. His weak point is the middle of his back, you might try to knock him down. You’ll have to figure out how, though, and don’t bother using ether. It looks like he has wards. I’ll see how much I can help.

The general landed with a loud crack, splitting fissures into the ground around him. He stood slowly, making a strange, guttural noise in his chest. Come then. Come children. The gods may live forever, but chaos is eternal. And I am chaos. And you are dead.

He finished rising, raising his arms and roaring in fury. A huge hammer of fire appeared in his hands, and the battle began. He attacked me first, leaping forward with a speed belying his size and swinging that massive hammer like a child’s toy. But he wasn’t quick enough. I stepped to the side, swinging inside of his reach and going for his feet. I saw Firannikus rushing towards him, and linked quickly, telling him to go for the middle of the back. I stabbed at his lower leg with both daggers and was dismayed to see they had no effect on the chaos armor except to produce a terrible screeching noise and a bright flash of sparks.

Then I was dodging again, flipping sideways and over his foot as he kicked towards me. He barely managed to clip my side, but it sent pain lancing through the muscle. My cloak was set aflame and I tore it off, throwing it to the ground as it quickly dissolved. It sent ether into the muscle to speed the healing, and resolved not to get hit again. This Everburn was a challenge, but he wasn’t a god.

And he would fall.

I backed off a bit, and the general turned, swinging a flaming fist at Firannikus. The half-demon dropped to the ground, dodging, and was back up in a second, smiling a crazed smile.

Suddenly, a spire of rock sped through the air, crashing into wards a foot from the beast’s head and sending it crashing to ground. I started to approach, but Everburn was quickly back on his feet, swinging his hammer to ward us off.

His eyes burned angrily. Fire and death, fire and death, bring you to pain and kill off the rest. Back in line, children. Punishment in excess is the lesson you will learn.

He was arrogant, but then, that could probably be attributed to the insanity. He would learn.

I linked with Firannikus, both of us giving the general some space as he continued to rave. One of us must take his attention; we need a clear shot at his weakness.

I’ll distract him. You’ll need to weave something around your weapons to get them through the wards.

I have something in mind. Let’s get to it, then.

The link broke, and Firannikus rushed towards Everburn, blue fireballs hurtling from the end of his blade and breaking on the creature’s wards as he ran. The general turned and gave him his full attention. Excellent.

I sprinted forward, dropping Bloodwatch and Ether-cutter out and grabbing Asylum, weaving a few select strands around its blade. Strands of power, strands of speed, and strands of ice. That would do the trick. I pulled my arm back to throw, and then something exploded.

Fire lanced out of the general’s back, screaming towards me from a small crystalline point. That would be the weak point, but it certainly didn’t seem very weak at the moment.

I threw myself into the air, the blaze just missing the tips of my boots as I leapt. I landed on his shoulder, and his terrible visage turned to gaze upon me. The heat was intense, but my wards protected me.

His eyes burned sickly. The rat is here the rat is here. Hello, rat.

Firannikus shouted something unintelligible, and I saw his blade flying through the air towards me. I caught it, and, acting on instinct, forced a fireball through its point and directly into the general’s face.

He screamed in rage, and I dropped off his shoulder. The timing would have to be exact, but…

I stabbed out with Asylum and was immensely satisfied to feel it sink into a viscous, not-quite-flesh substance.

Everburn froze, and I tore Asylum out again, dropping to the ground and moving a short distance away. The general stood absolutely still, even the burning fires of his form were frozen in place.

There was a weak sound, and then an even weaker thought. Death is chaos. All things return to nothing the matter of which is everything. And chaos still reigns. You will die. When the time is the time, and Ixx wills it. Burn.

Beginning at the monster’s feet, a frosty glaze of ice began to form, moving up to cover the general’s entire body. The chaos armor cracked under it, kept in its place only by the ice.

He made one hell of an ice sculpture.

And then there was darkness, a formless void beneath Everburn’s feet, and he sank into it, fading from sight into a pool of formless chaos. Soon, even that was gone.

Firannikus walked forward, and I tossed his sword to him. “Quite the weapon you have there. Thanks.”

“Absolutely. That monstrosity almost touched me, and he had to die for that.” He turned to Jerzanan, sheathing the blade. “Thanks for the help, shaman,” the half-demon said sarcastically.

Jerzanan raised his eyebrows, bringing the pavilion to rest before the door of the palace. “Who do you think was stopping him from simply torching you with his eyes?”

The half-demon and I exchanged glances. There was no way to know if he was telling the truth, but given his help so far…

I shrugged. “Alright, alright. It’s done anyway. Why waste time standing around out here?”

FIrannikus, nodded walking towards the door. It stood slightly ajar. “Agreed. Anything we should be on guard for in here?”

Jerzanan shook his head, moving through the door after me. We were in a short hall, composed of interlocking black and white bricks. There was another door at the far end, but this one looked to be closed tightly.

The shaman stopped moving, narrowing his eyes and examining the area more closely. “No, we should be fine. But for some reason-”

The door shut smoothly, gliding into place, and the lock clicked ominously.

There was only darkness.

Darkness and laughter.