Epilogue

Zafterith watched it all stoically from his throne in the Chaos Realm. He had not expected this loss. Not at all.

Once the girl was discovered in her casket under the ground (or if she was discovered, the Archdemon thought with a chuckle), she would most likely be guarded from now on and cautious, conscious that she was a target of the Oblivion. The Archdemon smiled. That would no longer matter.

There was one other descendant of the Seal alive, the son of the elf. Zafterith laughed wickedly to himself, finding it ironic that the very member who had proposed ending the line of the Seal to protect Kildelnya would unwittingly be the factor leading to its doom. His son would be the new sacrifice.

Zafterith put his huge hands on the armrests of his throne and pushed himself up to a standing position. "Ilzenik!"

An Oblivion Demon slightly smaller than the Darkwing came in front of Zafterith's throne, kneeling in deference. "Yes, My Master?"

"You are my new Darkwing. If that weakling was stupid enough to get himself killed by a human, a dwarf, and a mage, then he doesn't deserve to live."

"My Master, these three were not ordinary—"

"Silence! If I want you to speak, I will say speak, fool. Now, your first orders as Darkwing: take one or two Oblivion Demons with you to Kildelnya, and find this elf I have heard of. Prepare the rites in the middle of the Crater again, where they will not expect it. And do be more subtle than your predecessor. His idiocy was what led to his undoing. If you foul this up, I will be certain to promise unending torment to you—this time there will be no failure. I will gain entrance to the mortal realm. And I will become more powerful than the gods themselves—woe be to Vildenisk and those who follow him."

Laughter echoed about the Chaos Realm, even as the Oblivion Demons departing for Kildelnya prepared the rites to enter the mortal realm. Laughter darker than any Zafterith's kin could hope to muster; laughter dark enough to foretell the end of all existence.