The worst thing about the fight to the temple’s inner chamber was that I had become filled with this angry, frenzied feeling and there was nothing I could do about it at first. Looking at the black-veined, pale skinned face of Marat, who was staring back at me with bloodshot eyes through the thin magical barrier separating us, I wanted to run him through. The tip of Nerxis was already pressing against the magical shield.
Thanks to my furious mental state, my vision was limited. For a seer, that’s downright tragic. We’re supposed to be masters of observation, but as I seethed in the growing presence of Olur, I was distracted by the corrupted High Priest in front of me. “How little we resemble each other. You have no idea how glad I am to finally meet the man who was supposed to replace me. There were so many members of the Farlander Society who wanted you to stand where I am now. Who wanted to take another route that cast Olur, the true Lord of this land, aside. Now I’ve dismissed your Goddess from this world, and we know the Farlanders who backed me were the wiser.”
“She’s not gone yet,” I said as I finally noticed what was going on behind him. The main chamber of the temple was a large, perfectly square room. In each corner was an elemental wizard representing fire, earth, water and air. Ed was standing next to a shallow, small square pool, holding his arms up as he kept a portal that pointed straight into the spirit world open. It was facing down towards the basin.
There were men and women covered in wet brown clay to protect them from the quick amber they poured over a pile of bones that had been laid in the pool. The amount of quick amber they had was immense, coming from massive barrels that were held up high on metal stands as the servants in clay that made sure that the liquid landed on the bones at a rate that they could absorb it using long pipes and spigots that were attached to the bottoms of the barrels. Olur was close, this was almost over, and his bones were ready, already growing flesh.
“Soon, Olur will be among us soon, and there’s nothing you can do. Do you feel him, Death Speaker?” Marat asked, looking at Kinso.
“You will not win today,” Kinso said, turning to Laylen then tugging his hand to draw the boy’s ear down. When he knelt, Kinso whispered something hastily in a voice so low that I couldn’t make it out.
“This is the kind of story I always wanted to tell in my books,” Marat told me. “But publishers told me that a story where the villain won and the primitives of a backwards, troubled world were killed wouldn’t sell. They said I was writing stories of genocide, where innocent people were murdered. Those morons never understood that it was a correction; savages needed to be wiped out to create a new balance. They never saw how important the work was, and I couldn’t convince them, so I was forever changing my characters, adding stupid, soft sentiments and swapping endings. I was so sick and tired of tweaking the stories so the weak always had a place in the new world order that I was ready to leave Earth forever when the Farlanders approached me. I can’t believe you didn’t take them up on their first offer. It was the best thing for me, a boon in every way. Now my army marches north, and the weak will be subdued, removed, and this world will be ruled by the strong. I was right. I’m proving it. Might is always right.”
“Light is right,” I replied, reciting the exact opposite of his argument, not sure if I even agreed with it yet, but I had to be contrary. There was something in my response that reminded me that I had a sword only meant for enforcing good in situations where all options aside from violence had failed. Nerxis wasn’t accomplishing anything as I pressed it against the barrier, so I sheathed it, took the Skyshard in both hands and pressed its cracked point against the shield. The blade glowed, vibrated dangerously, but I did not relent.
Marat regarded it with surprise for a moment, stepping back, then smiled at me. Something in his eyes looked broken, mad. “That is your place; the opposite that balances my great power. Don’t you see? This is your only chance to retreat so you can perform the second greatest function in this society. Take your friends and even your Goddess with you to another land where you can regroup and return. You will try to take this land away from the sinister force that will rule here. From me. We’ll break your new allies, feast on the flesh of your pitiful light bearers.”
“Olur will only grow more powerful, you’ll never rule alone,” Ilsa said before she bit through a Savage Pepper, drew both her swords and pressed their points against the barrier. Unlike the Skyshard, which caused a wavering circle of golden light to shimmer where it touched the magical shield, her swords didn’t do anything until Dale blessed both her blades. Even then, the transparent barrier barely shimmered, but it was something.
Laylen nodded at Kinso, then the old Death Speaker turned towards Marat and grinned. “This is a land of many colours, where there is peace as well as conflict and imperfection. We thrive here despite its problems, sometimes because of them. My sister can bring balance and peace. It will come to pass.”
“I bring simplification and order. The intelligent will rule this land, then this world as they should. You are just a wild shaman facing civilization for the first time. Lost, confused, defiantly holding to ignorant, primitive ideas,” Marat told him dismissively before staring into my eyes again. “I was afraid you’d be a simple-minded man, Swordsman. Prove me wrong. Show me a glimmer of the man I sat with in that little cafe last year. We debated until the wee hours, you remember? It was one of the most lively discussions I’d ever had.”
I didn’t remember the man until then. I’d lost most of the memory, but scant shreds of the encounter surfaced, enough for me to recall the rough shape of the encounter. I told him a lot about Nemori, and at the time I thought he was guessing some of the details so well that it seemed that he already knew them. We talked about the constant war against necromancy, about Coriath, the breaking of the ancient covenants that kept dwarves then humans low in society, and about the potential ruin of Brightwill. He’d read the few modules and seen the maps I’d posted online years ago and I’d never met a fan of my work before, so I was glad to talk about the world I thought I’d created.
We also talked about what would happen if someone educated on Earth went to Nem and took over. His face had changed so much that it took a conscious effort to recognize him. He was emaciated, with bloodshot eyes and black veins running close to the surface of his skin. “What have you done to yourself?” The pity I felt for him was plain in how I asked the question and he stepped back, looking ashamed.
“My Lord comes. I have given you the chance to preserve your cause. I’ll let Olur decide your fate if you don’t take your leave.” he retreated to the pool in the middle of the chamber where he thrust his arms up to the portal as if he was reaching for Olur. “Come! Come my Lord and become a living Celestial Being! Your kingdom is waiting!”
“Ed! You can’t believe in this!” Ilsa shouted.
Uden and the rest of the paladins were behind me then. Some of them chanted in an ancient holy language, casting a spell meant to dispel dark magic. “Is that the Blessing of the Five Hammers?” Russ asked Uden.
“Aye,” he said as he took Dale’s hand so he could lend the smaller man strength.
“That won’t work. It’s a barrier. It’s not evil. You need a real counterspell,” he explained. Russ deserves a lot of credit for using his knowledge of the spell system we played with for years. “Everyone who doesn’t know one should start calling Gods who are strong elsewhere. If any of them don’t like what they’re seeing here, they could help.”
A roar sounded from the opposite entrance to the temple’s heart and orange-red light pressed against the barrier blocking the opposite doorway as it burned in seconds. “You were right!” Laylen laughed joyously at Kinso. “The dragons have come to burn the barrier away from the other end!”
“Ed! If you ever felt anything for me, you’ll stop now!” Ilsa called out, finally drawing a look from him. “Even before we were together, we were best friends. That has to mean something! I know you were a good man then! You used to resist your father’s ideas, how he thought there was a superior class of people.”
“Is it true?” Ed asked. The question was posed like he was nursing a deep romantic wound. “Olur says you and he are together. He showed it to me - you and him.”
“That doesn’t matter now,” Ilsa said after hesitating as the roar of fire from the other end of the temple smothered all other sounds for a moment. “The waste of life here is nothing compared to the genocide you’ll cause if you keep that portal open.”
“How could you screw me over like that? And with him! He belongs to Kaiyuma! Some filthy river goddess who will always come first!”
There were tears in Ilsa’s eyes as she made a final plea. “What you’re doing is evil! How can you know me, grow up with me and watch so many of my people be slaughtered? Close the portal, and all’s forgiven. If you don’t, I can’t... “ she pressed both her swords harder, muscles straining with the effort. “I’ve already lost enough people today. Don’t waste yourself.”
“You betray everything, everyone who ever loved you, helped you, saved you,” Ed spat back at her. “I should have listened to my father - your kind have fickle hearts - I’ll leave before you’re killed with your friends so I don’t have to see that, but I won’t feel sorry for you when the end comes. It’s what you and your new boy deserve.”
“You don’t believe that!”
“Would I be doing this if I had any doubt?” Ed said as he turned his full attention back to the portal and what lay beyond.
That’s when I saw Ilsa give up on him. I have no love for Ed, I don’t even have any sympathy for him, but I hoped that I would never have someone like Ilsa give up on me like that. After staring at him for a moment longer, she returned all her attention to driving her swords through the barrier surrounding the ceremonial space.
“All your good intentions are going to fail, Grant. That is unless you think of something more colourful, more grey,” Kinso told me hurriedly. “I’ve called my Gods, spent all but a little magic, have even had the boy call dragons. My new chorus hurls themselves at the magical walls here. I am nearly spent. You must have other ideas.”
“I call the matron goddess of all black dragons,” Russ started praying, falling to his knees. I didn’t know if calling Miradu, his favourite Goddess, would do anything, but it couldn’t hurt.
The four elemental magicians raised their hands to the portal and began feeding power to something past the threshold. Marat drank a small vial of quick amber then did the same. “He comes! My master’s rebirth is at hand! Pour the amber faster! Fill the basin!”
Olur’s mortal bones were almost completely restored to living flesh, and they stood in a shower of glimmering gold quick amber as the streams thickened.
The Dwarves unleashed a blast of light that struck the barrier between Ilsa and I. Shaking my head, renewing my efforts, I told them; “This isn’t enough. Even with the dragons helping from the other side we’re running out of time.” Then I instinctively tried to teleport into the ceremonial chamber and felt like something physically knocked me back hard enough to make me see stars. “Can’t teleport through it either.”
“Oh, my God! Or, I mean, my Goddess!” Russ roared as he stepped between us and brought his hammer down against the barrier. Everyone could feel the impact and the shield shimmered.
“A deity’s blessing resides in that hammer, now!” Uden cried in adulation.
“I know, it’s Miradu! She loves the Ondi, and blessed my hammer because she knows… she knows I’m one of her people at heart!” Russ brought his hammer down again, and the stone around us shook but the barrier did not fail.
My head was full of bad or useless ideas, then I heard a raspy voice that sounded like the creak of creaking, twisting wood or - I shivered as I realized what it really was - bone. “All your companions are calling on their Gods and some are answering. Even the Fox has her answer as creatures of the woodlands come to ruin Marat’s fleeing army. Why don’t you call me? You’ve sent souls to my pit. Why not bring me to you?”
The thought of calling Nauso forth while there was a portal pointing directly at the astral plane made my mouth dry. Despite my apprehension, I looked up and realized something. “I don’t have a choice.”
The blood drenched, predatory figure of Olur’s spirit was emerging from the portal, descending to its body, reaching down with thick, clawed fingers. The union between God spirit and magically imbued flesh was about to take place. “Oh, no,” Laylen breathed, tears starting to flow from his horror-stricken eyes. “We’re lost.”
“Nauso!” I shouted, putting every ounce of physical force and determination into my appeal. “I call Nauso from his Pit! Bring anguish! Bring misery! Bring your gleeful infliction so you may torment and defeat my enemies!”
The spirit of Olur jerked for a moment, as if momentarily distracted by my plea, but then it finished it’s descent, merging with his physical form, who was only a man standing in a shallow pool of quick amber.
“This is the hour! The portal is open! I summon thee forth, invoking the Celestial Founders; Di, Fe and Oln!” It was bad luck in most cultures to invoke the creators in association with other deities. It was believed that to do so was to call the deeds of your Gods and their people to judgement. I cried their names not as a demand, but in a high, pleading voice. The one advantage that Nauso had was that he didn’t pretend to be anything that he wasn’t, but I felt that calling on The Three was a mistake just the same.
The temple shook and Marat screamed; “Close the portal! Close it now!”
A shadow about a metre wide fell down through the portal as it closed, falling into the quickamber, which leapt as one congealing mass and slithered into a corner. I heard Kinso laughing, delighted, so amazed and amused that he couldn’t control himself.
The barrier failed and I almost fell over as the resistance of it against the tip of my sword failed. “Charge! Kill Olur!” I cried.
The hallway was too narrow for more than two to fight abreast, but the temple’s centre was filled by me, my friends, dwarven paladins and several magicians in seconds as I let a blood-lust cry loose from my lips, sword raised high. I ran for Olur, but that took me past the earth magician who only had time to turn and see the vicious slash coming for his face. It clashed off his stone blessed skin, leaving only a crack behind.
Russ shattered the magician’s ribs with a brutal swing of his hammer, and the wizard fell, struggling to breathe with lungs that were punctured from behind. Maydo leapt at the water magician, catching her throat in teeth made from Eilwun steel.
I was five steps away from Olur’s mortal form when I was blasted to the ground by a focused cone of flame. The feeling of burning while heat presses you against a brick floor is one that still haunts me, and I’m not ready to retell how that felt here yet, but when relief came from Dale, who began healing me almost right away, I knew it wasn’t the end, but I almost wished it was for a moment.
The flames stopped, I was still in an existence that was ruled by suffering. My eyes survived the assault, and magic was forcing my recovery when I saw Ilsa charge at the fire mage with both swords raised. He caught her with a blast, burning her viciously for a moment before she cut his arm off then stabbed him several times in the chest, ending his fiery assault. Dale finished casting powerful regeneration spells on me, the Creator’s Staff glowed brightly, then he stopped and dropped to his knees, a rush of blood surging from his nose and mouth.
My flesh was almost fully mended, and I started getting up. Ilsa was in a worse state, and Uden took up the Creator’s Staff then started using his Paladin healing arts to finish what Dale started. “Guard me!” he called as he wove golden light through the air between his hand and Ilsa for a moment, then moved on to heal Aulo, a paladin he’d served with from the very beginning. His unit rushed to his aid, but he fell in the next instant, blood gushing from his eyes and ears. Laylen’s shield landed a second later, as his body fell face down.
“It’s Marat! He’s invisible!” Kinso cried. “He’s taken more quick amber and is burning with power!”
I only had eyes for Olur, and was finally nearly fully healed. I leapt at him with the Skyshard’s hilt in both hands. I bumped into something, nearly stumbled, and for an instant I looked into the eyes of a risen God. “This is folly,” it said in my mind and in a suspended instant of time. “Defeating me will not ensure that your Goddess will reclaim her domain. Another is already rising. Join me and we will…”
I broke free of the suspended moment in time and finished my sword swing, taking Olur’s head off his shoulders in one decisive cut. Kinso used the last of his power to reveal everything in the room, and Marat appeared right beside me, picking himself up off the floor. He raised his hands to cast another powerful spell, oily black blood running from his mouth and eyes as the strain of enhancing the little magical ability he had with undiluted quick amber started to grow to great. “You’ve ruined it! All that power is wasted!”
There is no pride in how easy my next act came as I swung at his hands recklessly. I couldn’t reach the rest of him in time to interrupt his casting, so my blade cut through fingers and hand bones. It would have been a good time for clever words, or a statement that rendered judgement on Marat then, but I was furious to the point of murder, and I thrust my sword into his eye. The High Priest began to fall, still alive, and I tilted my blade downward as he lost his footing. When it was pointed at the bricks - his head at the tip of the Skyshard - I brought the sword down so hard that it pierced through his skull and chipped the stone beneath. I’ll never forget how he reached for the blade with bleeding hands and struggled for a moment before I yanked it free. Then he was still.
“My God,” Kinso breathed.
I looked to the corner where a perfectly pale, small male figure with a comely face was crouched, looking over his shoulder at him, then me. His glimmering green cat’s eyes were mesmerizing. The face wasn’t familiar, but the feeling he projected was unmistakable. “Lozome,” I breathed. All pretence was stripped away - Lozome was still as much a trickster God as he was the deity of knowledge, I’d say even more so.
“Thank you for bringing Nauso forth, Champion,” he said with a toothy grin. “When I saw you pray to him some time ago, I went to his pit and devoured the weak little torturer. Now I am he as well as me. This is a great happening; one God taking another and tricking a follower into bringing them forth.”
“Such a trick, such a cunning trick!” Kinso said, falling to his knees.
“Do not worship me from your knees, Death Speaker,” Lozome said with a snicker that almost sounded like the tense chuckles Kinso once made. “Your very nature is a tribute to the tricky ones.” Then his gazed flicked to me. “Fetch me my pages, and I’ll impart on you a great gift, Grant,” he said before turning towards Ed with a jerk then rushing to him. When the shocked man was firmly in Lozome’s arms, he said; “You know where to teleport, little pawn. Serve me and I’ll free you of all bonds.”
Ed, shaking with fear, staring at Lozome’s gleeful gaze even as he bent his head away, disappeared then, taking the realized God with him. That’s when I saw Dale’s, Uden’s and several other bodies of dwarves scattered around, all killed by the high wizards and Marat as I focused on Olur. The cost of the encounter was made worse as I wondered what we actually won. Was Olur right? Stopping his arrival was the right thing to do, but was it true that his failure wouldn’t guarantee Kaiyuma’s return? Then the dread started to fade as I felt her presence begin to rise.