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Twenty-Six

Northern Mountains, Autumn, 814 FF

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The dark lord had sensed the great shift in power when Emperor Thanatos died. It was unfortunate that he had been slain in Faiden. His demise greatly affected the magic in Brasik and the high kingdom as a whole. Faiden had been stirring from its eight century slumber for several years, and now it felt on the brink of awakening. The dark lord wasn't sure what to expect if that happened.

He was the heir to the throne when he slaughtered the king, queen, and princess. The might of Faiden should have come to him, but the queen had shattered the heart of the kingdom, the Cerulean Crystal. She'd destroyed it to keep it from him, and the castle had crumbled into the Saevalde River. The palace had thrust him from itself as it died, and he never knew if it was to protect him or to defend itself. The voice of the kingdom had been silent ever since.

The dark lord had felt its loss as deeply as the deaths of all of those he'd loved. In spite of the cruel mockery and punishment of the Orb of Power, he still occasionally longed to feel the will of Faiden once more. Now, as he stared across the black spires of the Northern Mountains, toward the south where Faiden hid behind mountains and the Desolate Plain, he feared what it meant. It was not awakening by anything he had done; of that he was certain. Some other force was at work. The Oracle had been moving throughout the kingdom for decades. She'd been sowing seeds, plotting against him, and soon it would be time to reap the harvest of her efforts.

The Power whispered to him, condemning him for not finding and killing the Oracle. It lashed out, striking at his mind, and the dark lord screamed in pain. He fell to his knees, clawing at his scalp. He'd tried for centuries to locate her, but she always knew his plans, always escaped his spells and traps. The Power lashed out again, punishing his weakness, his failure, his excuses. The Oracle had been permitted to roam free and do as she pleased. Soon, she would strike, and they had no way of knowing how, when, or from where the attack would come.