Necromancer’s Sorrow: (Series Finale)

by Pablo Andrés Wunderlich Padilla

  “Now you’re mine, Malakai! And with your conquest, I am now in possession of Mórgomiel’s armbands!”

  Balthazar’s metamorphoses did not stop there. Although he had regained his body and conquered Malakai’s soul, the changes he was about to suffer would turn him into an evil chimera. Death would be inevitable. But it gave him time to meet Mérdmerén and let him know that he had to go in search of Nordost. No matter how he did it, he had to find him.

  No wonder this demon knew so much, Balthazar thought as he was being transmuted. He is carrying the Oracle inside him!

  Balthazar, the Oracle said within him. Thank you for rescuing me. It is thanks to the sum of our parts that we have managed to dominate Malakai’s soul. How did you know it would work?

  I didn’t, the Wild Man inside him said. But it did.

  But you will carry the pure malice of my soul forever, Malakai howled in fury. You have not got rid of me!

  Together, we unite great powers, Balthazar said. But the demon is right. My soul is no longer pure. I am no longer a worker of good. With the pieces of Mórgomiel’s armor under my control, my soul has already begun to corrupt, he thought sadly.

  There is still one thing to do, the oracle said. I can see what you intend to do, Balthazar. You must go back to the Meridian and let Mérdmerén know he is in danger. He must go in search of Nordost as soon as possible.

  You’re a pair of imbeciles, Malakai thought. Before you defeated me, I managed to communicate with Mórgomiel. In his fury, he’s launched into a sudden attack on the Meridian. You’re finished. All this comes to an end today. The Times of Chaos have returned. Ha! Ha! Ha! cried Malakai’s voice for the last time, before it was completely dissolved within Balthazar’s contaminated soul.

  With a thought, the chimera disappeared, then appeared again in the Meridian. Its powers were such that it could transport itself easily, creating portals at will that it could cross.

  With the amount of energy it had acquired by absorbing the powers of the dark sorcerer and the Oracle, the chimera could cause great losses to either side, good or evil. Balthazar knew that sooner or later his intentions would turn evil and for that reason, he had to complete his mission before it was too late.

  Chapter XXVI — Farwas

  A platoon of twenty-one soldiers welcomed them after they had crossed the vortex. Elgahar, Turi, and Tenchi were the first to cross the threshold. They were petrified at the sight of such strange soldiers, not knowing whether to raise their weapons and attack or defend themselves. And how cold it was! The humans began to shiver. As the rest of the Committee crossed the portal, they had a similar reaction at the sight of those creatures. They were gigantic he-goats!

  Turi analyzed the situation quickly. On the faces of those animals, he saw a grimace of despair and impatience but not of violence or hate. Those eyes—with their horizontal pupils typical of goats, full of depth and intelligence—caught his attention and calmed the terror he felt towards them.

  The he-goats studied the new arrivals as a human would study guests who had arrived so late they were now a source of annoyance. The he-goats were standing on four legs, as long and strong as those of a horse, with black hooves. They had two horns that curved backward over their heads in the form of a ring. Their entire bodies, without exception, were covered in hair. Each he-goat’s hair was of a different color: some white, brown, or black. The torsos of those magnificent beasts were broad-chested and broad-shouldered with long bellies like those of a human. On the sides of their torsos, they had two arms like a man’s, although theirs looked stronger.

  When the brief moments of that first contact had passed without violence and the giant he-goats gave no sign of attacking, the tension in the atmosphere lessened. When the last traveler had crossed the portal, it began to weaken, blinked, and then suddenly collapsed with a bang that startled most of them.

  The he-goats seemed disgusted, even insulted, by what had been the magical portal.

  “Welcome to Farwas,” said one of the he-goats. “Welcome to our empire, whose name is Hoomasaas.” He waved his five-fingered hand toward the horizon to show his land to them with pride. “Our people call themselves Catalgar,” he went on in a voice which was deep, hoarse, and eloquent. Tenchi did not need to translate anything. Was he speaking Mandrakian? This was unexpected. Could it be a game?

  “You have been too long in coming,” the he-goat said angrily. “We left the battle that’s been destroying our home to be here, waiting for you. This isn’t what Balthazar promised us.” His manner of speaking, his posture, and his gestures were those of a leader. His armor was more elegant than that of the others. “War with the Yundal has caused us considerable losses and we need to go back as soon as we can to the holy Faroos, where the Iptaan has been waiting for days. My name is Ekimidos, a centurion in the service of our leader Iptaan Saaldún.”

  The he-goat was two strides tall, the same as Merkas. The he-goats wore armor made of some heavy material, particularly over the chest and the part where abdomen and torso joined—perhaps a weak point of theirs. Over their backs, they wore cloaks the same color as the metal of their armor: dull platinum that did not reflect light. Ekimidos, the only he-goat who had introduced himself so far, wore a golden cloak, something else that distinguished him from the others.

  Elgahar felt clumsy speaking to creatures like these. “Thank you for your honorable reception. I am Elgahar Üdessa.”

  The other members of the Committee introduced themselves. The he-goat looked desperate but held his tongue. The monolith emitted vibrations and it was not clear whether the he-goats understood or not. Maybe Tenchi had translated their introduction, although they could not say whether he had or not.

  “These are strange days in which suns and moons do not follow the rule of Gamoor. The cold is intense here and has become worse. We believe it’s because of the absence of our deity, the God of Fire. Balthazar, the great ally of our Iptaan since he came with grave news, has informed us about the Times of Chaos which has confirmed our suspicions that the God of Fire has been destroyed.

  “This has allowed the shadows to spread, and through that, the Yundal have advanced at enormous speed. Huarg Orx has pursued his conquest on this planet and has already killed several centurions and their military divisions. We know Orx has received the assistance of many evil spirits, some of which our shamans have been unable to fight. We need you more than ever. Especially you, mage.” He pointed at Elgahar. “Here you are, coats for the harsh winter.”

  The travelers took the coats eagerly. The cold was beginning to penetrate to their bones. Elgahar was the only one who did not welcome the idea that he was needed for war. He did not want to say anything and decided to hold back his unease until he was told more. Perhaps they needed his help for some simple task. If only that could be true.

  When every member of the Committee, except the monolith and Tenchi, had donned their coats, the he-goat pointed toward the horizon, invisible because of the snow.

  “Hoomasaas is in those high mountains, the range you can see over there. Our city has the same name as our land.”

  The travelers noticed that the coats were made of something as soft as cashmere. Was it made of the hair of the he-goats?

  “Onwards!” Ekimidos cried. “We must go back and inform the Iptaan at once! Soldiers! Protect our guests at all times. The Iptaan wants them unscathed! Squads!” Immediately the twenty he-goats divided into groups of five, each one protecting either a flank, the vanguard, or the rearguard. The leader went to the head. The Committee began to feel nervous. With all this protection, they must be expecting an attack.

  Travelers and guards set off without another word and the pace was a fast one. This world was very like the Meridian, but it seemed a much larger and wilder planet, untamed and unexplored. The vegetation was similar, but they could see that here, winter was endless and the vegetation had grown to adapt to this difficulty.

  The wildlife was very similar, but with some notabl
e differences. For example, there was a deer that walked on two long legs with horns like branches that was chopping wood with an ax. Another animal that seemed strange to them was a mountain lion with a lizard’s tail. Insects were large and seemed more intelligent than those of the Meridian. But unfortunately, there was no time to stop in the dense forests to study the environment.

  The path became more difficult, and they had to climb much of the mountain using their bare hands. With bloodied fingers, the travelers began to doubt whether they would ever reach Hoomasaas.

  “To arms!” cried the centurion at the head of the group.

  The twenty he-goats under the leader’s command produced a weapon from each side of their backs: a javelin and a short sword. They formed a circle around the travelers and prepared to defend them.

  “Come out, you damn Huarg! We can smell you, Orx!”

  In the mist created by the snow, there appeared a silhouette. It was a giant Huarg. Ekimidos threw his spear with surprising agility. The missile flew swiftly but missed its target. The Huarg disappeared and only its grunts could be heard in the distance.

  “The Yundal love to taunt their opponent. They always do the same thing. They play with us. Since the dark spirits joined their side, they have been sending us shadows and ghouls to scare us. The war has reached its climax, and soon the balance will tilt against us. We must act. We have to reach Hoomasaas as soon as we can.”

  The Committee continued their trek, arduous and demanding, toward the summit of the great mountain in the distance.

  “Perófias!” the centurion cried. From the sky, there descended a recognizable figure. It was certainly a horse, but it had wings on its sides. The wings were long and elegant, like those of a powerful hawk.

  The pegasus made a graceful landing. “Ekimidos! Good to see you, my friend,” it said. The winged horse was dark with a mane so black that it looked like a shadow. Its eyes, of the same color, seemed to have no pupils, they were so dark.

  “These are the envoys of the powerful shaman,” Perófias said. “Our goddess, D’Santhes Nathor, would be pleased that you have come. Sadly, a short while ago, she stopped shining. We fear she has been reached by evil. But you know what the Gods are like, they appear and disappear and are almost unpredictable in their behavior. But if what the shaman says is true, then it is because of the Times of Chaos that our goddess is absent and that is not good news. Not in the least! There, look.” The pegasus indicated with its muzzle. “Your path is clear of danger. You can go on without fear of the Yundal.” The pegasus took off with a tremendous thrust of its legs and was airborne again.

  “The pegasus have been great allies since our deity the God of Fire disappeared,” the centurion explained on their way to Hoomasaas. “Before, they never interfered in the situation between Yundal and Catalgar but since the disappearance of ArD’Buror and D’Santhes Nathor, it seems they too have become alarmed by the extreme violence the Yundal have shown.” The travelers were tired from the pace; the he-goats, on the other hand, appeared to be walking calmly.

  ArD’Buror, Turi thought. The Catalgar use the same name as we do for the God of Fire. And the pegasus used the same name for the Goddess of Night. How strange! And besides, we share the same language! Is that a coincidence? No. It’s impossible. There must be an ancient lineage that links us. Who knows what that might be, the lad wondered. As he thought of beings from other worlds, his mind could not help remembering Meromérila, whose violet eyes and sweet voice had enamored him since the first day. The rough terrain brought him back abruptly to reality. The sweet memories would have to wait for another moment.

  They came to the edge of the forest, emerging from the dense vegetation to find themselves on a bare hillock whose sides climbed in irregular crags to a castle built on the mountain with a city spread over two crests and two adjoining valleys. The city was enormous and the castle, which had been excavated from the mountain itself, appeared impenetrable. The humans could only think of the similarities between Hoomasaas and Kathanas, both of them cities carved out of a geographic fault to take advantage of its size and protection.

  Khad’Un’s beard and thick eyebrows were covered in snow, which made him look like an aged, white-bearded dwarf. Merkas and Amon Ras walked without saying a word, worried by a single thought: survival. The monolith Tagulumich seemed to have no problems with the terrain. His thousands of filaments seemed unstoppable and had adapted perfectly to the environment. Sometimes he emitted a series of vibrations that sounded like something between a poetic chant and a sigh of admiration. The Wild Woman Unna was particularly impressed by the foliage and prayed to Mother, grateful for being allowed to visit wonders like these. As a Wild One, she would have many stories to tell when she went back to her land, sitting by the fire with her clan around her listening to her adventures.

  The giant insect Ushka had no difficulty walking on this terrain. His six legs seemed to be helping him to climb the mountain slope. Chirllp needed two coats to keep warm. Perhaps in his previous planet, Degoflórefor, he had never seen winters as inclement as this.

  “Praised be ArD’Buror!” Ekimidos cried. “How brightly the beacons burn with their powerful flames! Open the sentry boxes!”

  In front of them, what had seemed part of the mountain now revealed itself clearly as watchtowers. Between these, what looked like immovable rock cracked down the middle with a metallic shriek. It was a gigantic double door that opened outwards like a flower with twin petals. The recognizable sound of poorly-oiled machinery told Elgahar that the mechanisms that opened and closed the sentry post were deeply set within the mountain and that the Catalgar must be ingenious engineers to have created a mechanism like this.

  “The winter is terrible because of the disappearance of ArD’Buror,” the Centurion explained. “It has hindered the operation of the machinery. Also, the beacons no longer burn, which is a serious problem when we depend on them to alert us to the arrival of the Yundal. Come. We must reach Faroos as soon as possible. The Iptaan must be feeling frustrated.”

  The city received them with surprise. The group of foreigners caused a variety of reactions among the citizens. There was fear in those eyes with their horizontal pupils, but also a trace of hope. The people of Hoomasaas seemed desperate and the arrival of the centurion with the travelers promised omens of the future, both good and bad. Curiously, those who were not soldiers appeared malnourished.

  Like any other militarized city, this one had thick walls and roofs supported by broad columns and wooden beams a quarter of a stride across. The corridors ran inside the mountain but often emerged into the open as trenches that protected them from enemy missiles.

  Around the city, Elgahar was able to glimpse several monuments raised to the God of Fire. ArD’Buror was represented in all his splendor.

  Several citizens bowed their torsos and heads to show their horns as the centurion passed. Not all the citizens had fully-developed horns, perhaps due to a lack of food or some other kind of deformity.

  They went along several more corridors until they reached a large gate watched over by a retinue of soldiers in full armor.

  When the centurion approached, the soldiers moved away from the gate they guarded. They formed into a line and saluted, bowing their heads. They took a close look at the Committee from inside their helmets, impressed by the sight of a six-legged insect, several men with bodies like he-goats but walking on two legs instead of four, a monolith moving on filaments, and a rose-colored orb that floated among the foreigners. They didn’t say a word and once the travelers had passed, they took up their positions again in front of the double gate.

  Powerful gears raised a drawbridge, allowing the Committee into a highly-guarded section. The guards here were armed with two great swords sheathed on each side. Their faces and heads were covered by helmets with a horizontal grid that allowed them to see. The helmets were made with such precision that the creatures’ horns emerged from them in all their elegance.

  Turi
concluded that they were in what must be the palace or castle where the king, or leader, of the Catalgar dwelt. But he was alarmed by the number of guards everywhere, as well as the absence of ordinary citizens and children in this area. In the Imperial Palace of Mandrake, it was normal to see women in their tulle dresses parading their beauty and even to see the children of noblemen running and playing hide-and-seek between the columns. The conclusion was like a slap in the face for the young man when he realized that the prevailing feeling was one of depression. Here, there was a wealth of sadness.

  Despite this, the palace revealed its beauty when they came out into what appeared to be the antechamber to a lofty hall, where several columns supported a dome on which was painted an impressive mural.

  Turi became aware that the columns had a sinister look, each with a giant he-goat carved on the stone with the weight of the dome on the beasts’ shoulders, symbolizing that the he-goats were capable of supporting the weight of their own home. The mural of the dome depicted the God of Fire, ArD’Buror, in a fiery battle against the God of Chaos. The God of Fire was shown riding a splendid dragon of flames, hurling radiant energy at a dark dragon. None of those who were there, not even the he-goats, knew that the name of the dragon represented was Folfiri and that he had been betrayed by his own god.

  The mural impressed everyone and left them with a feeling of wonder, so that no-one noticed when a figure entered the hall.

  Ekimidos cleared his throat. “Ahem.”

  The travelers took their eyes off the ceiling. They saw a grey-haired he-goat with proud horns whom they had not seen before. His horns were larger, and instead of armor, he wore a purple outfit that covered him from neck to belly and a silver cloak on his back. Instead of a crown, he carried a staff of some material that looked like gold with a green jewel on its pommel. This he-goat was huge and his belly was covered in a layer of fat, perhaps from years of not exercising.