“That is good to know, but it is not my reason for coming here,” the Baron admits as he runs a finger along the window. He rubs a thin layer of dust between his fingers, the motes sticking to his gloves like glue. “My offer to your friends was a trap, but it was sincere for you. I will resurrect you and give you a home away from everything. No more destiny. No more Spirit Well. By the gods, you are my flesh and blood. I do not want to see you suffer the same fate as me because of a foolish mistake.”
The telepath stops her work and stares at her father, her lips turning into a smirk. “The old me would have taken your offer, but I’ve grown. Unlike you, I have accepted my punishment and understand that it is what I deserve. You call what I did a foolish mistake, but it caused suffering for many. It wasn’t that I killed a temple guardian or one of Windemere’s remaining angels. I condemned thousands of souls to being trapped in a tomb with nobody to explain why they were there. The Spirit Well needs a caretaker and I have agreed that it should be me. You can say that I am foolish for seeking atonement or willingly entering an eternal prison, but my decision has been made. Whether I live or die during this battle, my spirit goes to the Spirit Well for the rest of time. Keep that in mind when we meet on the battlefield.”
“You are too much like your mother.”
“An odd statement considering you still love her.”
“A fact that hurts me every day.”
“Have you ever considered leaving the game and making a life here or on Shayd?”
“My ambition will not let me settle for those realms alone.”
“I believe you mean rage instead of ambition.”
Rising to his feet, the Baron cannot stop himself from smiling at his daughter, who has gone back to Luke. He watches her mend the glittering wounds for a few minutes before staring out the window at the statue of Zaria. The towering figure’s hair is blonde instead of red, so he casts a spell to change it to the correct color. He finds the dress unbecoming and makes it more flowing, the marble turning into a flawless ivory. Breathing on the window pane, the Baron draws a sheathed longsword that appears on the statue’s waist after a thin belt of silver sprouts from the smooth surface. Being one of Dariana’s memories, the long lost piece of art shudders and returns to its original form within seconds. Finding the figure an insult to the goddess that he still loves, he turns away and goes back to watching the surgery.
With Dariana working under the table, only the Baron notices that Luke’s eyes are open and following him. The half-elf’s pupils are the same chocolate brown with flecks of gold and ring of black that they have been since he purified his temple. Yet, the warlord swears there is an unnerving difference about the way they shimmer in the light. Luke yawns to reveal three of his teeth are razor-edged and many times bigger than they should be. A forked tongue flicks out of his mouth before his jaws clamp shut like a sprung trap. Sniffing the air, the champion gradually flexes his stiff legs and wiggles his fingers, their movements getting more controlled by the second.
A low growl rumbles from the forest tracker’s throat and shakes the bed, which causes Dariana to step into the open. Shaking the psychic blood from her hands, the telepath places the needle and thread on the table. Walking towards her father, she gracefully whirls around and puts out her arms at the same time Luke lunges. His arms transform into gigantic sabers that spark pink energy and stop a hair from Dariana’s eyes. She hears the Baron start to draw his rapier, so she kicks backwards to send him crashing into the wall. Darting forward, she hugs the half-elf around the neck and whispers calming words into his ear until his body goes limp. Easing her friend back onto the bed, she draws happier memories to the front of Luke’s mind and leaves him with the sensation of Kira’s arms wrapped around his waist.
“I should have mentioned that I’m restraining his anger, hate, and fear since he knows you’re here, father,” Dariana casually says before going back to work. Carefully turning Luke over, she tries to mend a cut that bisects his entire back. “Part of him wants to run and the other wants to rip your face off. He’s unsure if he wants to feed it to you or stomp on it into the floor. I would ask you what the point of torturing him was, but I don’t want to hear the answer. More than likely, it would be a lie.”
“The truth is that he was the one with the most loved ones to lose,” the Baron answers, ignoring his daughter’s accusation. Seeing her stop and clench her fist, the warlord remains on guard in case he is attacked again. “Luke is the weakest of your friends, but not only because he denied himself the true power of a champion. His loving family and dear fiancée made him the perfect target. The amount of pain that his body withstood is nothing compared to the anguish it now holds. Once he was returned and you repaired the physical damage, he became my secret weapon. That is until the gypsy girl snapped him out of his depression and stumbled upon the truth behind the champions’ powers. I do want a fair fight, but we both know the final battle really started when you claimed the Spirit Well. It is only the physical side of things that has yet to begin.”
“Be careful what you wish for, father, because you are not infallible,” the telepath warns with a crack of her neck. Removing her top shirt, she wipes the sweat from her brow and focuses on sealing the large wound. “One thing I have learned in all my years is that most immortals succumb to ego. You live long enough, you start to feel like nothing can challenge you. The idea of death is laughable, which makes you become careless. Saddest part is that you realize this mistake, but do nothing to change course. How many gods and goddesses have perished since the beginning of time? Do you think their last thoughts were anything more than confusion about their dwindling lives?”
“The difference is that I have accepted death as a possibility, but refuse to dwell on it,” the warlord states as his body fades away. Struggling against his daughter’s attempt to eject him, he becomes nothing more than an outline. “Know that the moment you are done here, I will awaken everyone. The Compass Key will be handed over to me then we will see who destiny chooses as the victor.”
“I prefer to depend on my own actions than fate,” Dariana mutters as the Baron disappears and she wards her mind against him. Sure that she is alone, the telepath leans close to Luke’s head and puts her lips against his ear. “Listen to me carefully. My father is a man of many tricks and secrets. I sense there is something about you that he fears, but I can’t even begin to guess his reasons. I’m sorry that I can’t give you more information than that. All I will tell you is that this is not the time to fall to fear and you must use your anger like a sharpened blade. I will heal you, Luke Callindor, but there is one thing I need you to do above all else. Make the Baron regret ever harming you by bringing all of your fury down on his head. You are the bravest and fastest of us, so claim that first strike and make it count.”
*****
The champions awaken to find themselves standing in the middle of a room with rounded walls. All of their gear has been returned and they can feel their bodies and auras have been fully revived. Behind them, giant circular doors have been blocked by long bars of rusty metal, which groan as if they are being strained. The shredded remains of a dark purple carpet run down the center of the floor, the pieces crumbling at the slightest touch. Amber orbs hover along the ceiling to create a path towards an obsidian frame that waits at the far end of the room. Tooth-like shards remain from an ancient mirror, the rest of the glass having turned into piles of sand at the base of the dormant portal. As the champions continue to examine their surroundings, they find faint drawings of people and animals on every surface. Some of the pictures are obviously the work of a small child while others show intricate details, especially when depicting a beautiful swordswoman. When they hear a distant rumble, the cautious heroes draw their weapons and gather into a circle to watch every direction. For several minutes, the only sound is their labored breathing and Nyx’s magical flames crackling in her palms.
Passing through the wall like a specter, the Baron appears in fr
ont of the portal and waves for his enemies to advance. His white armor is decorated with black lightning designs on the shoulders and crimson eyes on the back of his gauntlets. Although it is platemail, there is no noise when he moves and the heavy suit has no effect on his speed and flexibility. When the champions refuse to get closer, the Baron plunges his hands into the floor and retracts the room until they are standing within reach. Wiping stone chips from his knees and knuckles, the warlord reaches back to caress the obsidian frame. His hand lingers on a large piece of glass that hums and vibrates at his gentle touch. Pulling the shard free, he fuses it to his left arm and molds it into a prismatic buckler with a razor sharp edge.
“I believe all of us are ready now,” the Baron announces, raising his shield to block Nyx’s fireball. The blast swirls around his arm before seeping into the glass and diffusing into the enchanted armor. “None of that here. This is a terrible place for the actual battle to start. Just give me the Compass Key and the final seal will be broken. This portal will open and the prophecy will come to an end in Gaia.”
“Why can’t we fight you here?” Sari asks as she tries to slash at the immortal’s throat. She yelps when Luke yanks her back by the skirt, the Baron’s rapier missing her eyes by a hair. “I don’t like any of this. If we lose out there then you’re free to conquer Windemere. At least here, you won’t be going anywhere.”
“Except that he will because he knows one of us has the Compass Key,” Delvin says in a faint voice. Shooting a bit of coffee into his mouth, the warrior shakes his head clear and rolls his shoulders. “Only a matter of time before you break the spell and find it, which means this is our only chance to stop you. We have only ourselves to blame since we should have seen this situation coming long ago. So caught up in adventuring that we missed the fact that all we really had to do was step away from destiny. Without the champions, your imprisonment would be forever.”
“Don’t be so selfish and short-sighted,” Luke growls, startling his friends. After being silent for so long, his voice is crackly and hoarse, but there is an edge to it that gives everyone a slight chill. “We never had a choice and not because of destiny or the prophecy or Gabriel. Stephen, Vile, Yola, and the Lich would still be running loose if we walked away. The chaos elves and Trinity would still be slaves too. Sure, our existence caused a lot of losses like the Feykin and the Grasdons, but we can’t feel guilty about what we have to do now. Not when we have the power to make sure this bastard is put down for good.”
The Baron watches Luke, his eyes turning a gentle gold as he examines the forest tracker. “I see you are mostly healed and ready to fight. This is either a testament to your strength or to my daughter’s skills. Either way, I am looking forward to seeing the half-champion attempt to survive my full power, much less land a blow. Do not think I have lost any of my strength or prowess after being contained for so long. The Chaos Void has given me plenty of creatures to fight and a landscape that is perfect for testing destructive spells. Now, give me the Compass Key or I will kill one of you to prove that I am done being a proper host.”
Lifting his rapier, the warlord calmly swings it from one champion to another, the tip lingering longer on Luke and Sari than the others. A wave of magic pulses through the room, the only sign that Nyx has removed her cloaking spell being a twitch of her eyebrow. The Baron watches the channeler and waits for her to hand him the Compass Key until he hears Timoran moving to his right. Sheathing his weapon, he turns to see the relic that will free him from his ancient prison. The silver setting glistens in the light and the central pearl slowly turns, stopping only when it is in his hands. Each of the six gems develop cracks, which expose black cores that release tiny tendrils into the air. Mesmerized by the powerful relic, he takes a minute to admire its energy and run his fingers along every inch.
Coming out of his trance, the Baron throws the Compass Key at the dormant portal and falls to one knee. A blast of energy returns the room to its original size, which pushes the champions away from each other. The six gems open like blossoming flowers and release trails of glittering dust, which spirals toward the central pearl. The silver melts and fuses with the obsidian to create a rim of metal on the inside of the portal. With every passing second, the Compass Key unfolds into a colorful gateway that spins around the solid core. Pulsing veins of darkness flow from the spreading jewels to create an outline of Gaia that gradually turns into a vivid picture. When only the pearl remains, it moves until it can be easily reached and used as a knob. The instant the Baron touches the smooth stone, the barred wall shakes and a chorus of howls breaks through the dwindling silence spell.
“I failed to mention my friends,” the warlord says as he opens the portal. He takes in the sweet smell of the magical tunnel that shows Gaia in the distance. “I told the demons about this gateway since they have done so much for me. They want to join in the battle since they would be working without a master, which is a dream of so many in this land. No telling what an army of demons with no magical bindings would do to Windemere. Hope you can stop them and follow me. Otherwise, you might have to let them through and face all of us at once. Enjoy and I will be waiting.”
The Baron waves over his shoulder as he enters the portal, his body disappearing into the swirling vortex. With a castle-shaking howl, the demon swarm bashes through the doorway and rushes into the room. Stone-winged Spurges and serpentine Eblems lead the charge while lesser demons of every kind try to keep up. Hellfire Elves fire arrows from the back, the projectiles arching over the other demons with terrifying precision. Several shadowy figures lumber out of the hallway, their bodies still cloaked in the corrosive darkness that birthed them. Formless demons move along the ceiling, their smoky bodies allowing them to get around the mob. A humanoid creature with a membrane-like cape and spikes on its head calmly walks among the others, its three eyes glowing a putrid yellow.
The ravenous swarm shakes the room with its shrieks and bellows, which are cut off when they slam into Nyx’s barrier. With Delvin lending her his power, the channeler is able to push the demons back and stop their advance. An ice wall explodes from the floor in front of the magic shield, the surface freezing and shattering whatever it touches. Sari continues drinking from her waterskins as she transforms her sweat into vapor and passes it through Nyx’s spell to maintain the physical barrier. Dariana does her best to turn off the minds of the stronger demons, each one taking a tremendous effort since she refuses to unleash her full power and leave herself open to psychic counterattacks. Unable to help their friends, Timoran and Luke wait for an opening while they back towards the gateway.
“Go through the portal, my friend,” the barbarian whispers, his body covered with orange magic. He advances a few steps and raises his weapon in preparation for a chance to unleash his rage on Vir’s Castle. “The rest of us can stop the demons from getting into to Gaia, but it will take time. We need you to keep the Baron in the city and away from our friends who are waiting nearby. Do not argue because there is nothing you can do here.”
“Oh, just rub it in that I’m useless,” Luke claims with an impish smirk. Spinning his sabers, the half-elf hurries to the edge of the portal and stops when he feels like he is at the edge of a cliff. “By the way, I can’t make any promises that the Baron will be alive when you arrive. I owe that bastard a lot of pain and suffering.”
With a burst of wind behind him, Luke launches himself into the portal and flips to watch his friends disappear into the distance. The demons’ screams and roars echo throughout the rainbow-colored tunnel, which makes him worry that the others have already failed. Feeling a twinge of fear and doubt in his heart, the forest tracker pushes the emotions away and replaces them with a rage that would make Timoran proud.
15
Exiting the portal above Gaia, the Baron is carried by an ocean breeze to the top of the amphitheater. His chest is tight as the curse attempts to crush him, a final embrace before it is dispelled for eternity. Free of his prison, the immortal
inhales as if he has not taken a breath in centuries. The sight of gulls and white clouds in place of demons and endless storms brings tears to his eyes. Scents of foods that he has created magical versions of waft to his nose, the real dishes smelling infinitely more delicious than his creations. Throwing his sense of propriety away, the Baron falls to his knees and kisses the stone beneath his feet. Distant screams travel to his ears as the entire population of Windemere is forced to remember all of the horrors he committed as a mortal. Waves of fear wrap around the world when they recall that he became the God of Destiny and planned to unleash his fury on the other deities. Vivid memories of the atrocities he committed forces themselves into millions of minds that are driven to the edge of insanity. Their voices and emotions are delicacies to the Baron’s senses, which strain to absorb every sensation given off by his new kingdom. Even the whispers of defiance from nearby make him lick his lips and desire the chance to crush his first true enemy with his bare hands. Rising to his feet, the Baron shields his eyes from the sun to help him see a hazy dome that appears in the sky. Feeling a familiar energy from the lowering barrier, he laughs and throws out his arms to greet one of the keys to his victory. With a resounding boom, the spell covers Gaia and nearly a mile of ocean. All of the voices and emotions swirling around Windemere are blocked by the dome, which plunges Gaia into silent isolation.
Gazing at the armies that have gathered around the city, the Baron smiles at how the soldiers shift uneasily. His attention locks on Trinity, his former agent and her warriors closer to Gaia than any of the other forces. Even though the cobalt-skinned channeler cannot see him, he can tell that she has become aware of his presence. Stretching his arm, the warlord decides the traitorous Queen will be the perfect casualty to start the battle and make the others realize that he has arrived. Casting a spell to pulverize every bone in her body, the Baron’s fingertips glow with a golden light that runs down to his palm. He briefly hesitates to kill the young woman whom he once looked upon as a daughter, but the idea of leaving any traitor alive fills him with anger. The immortal begins to utter the final word of his incantation when he hears the portal release a brief popping noise.
Warlord of the Forgotten Age Page 27
