Necromancer’s Sorrow: (Series Finale)

by Pablo Andrés Wunderlich Padilla

  He heard shouts down one of the tunnels and then saw another demon of burning coals advancing, clutching someone by the neck. The body of its victim caught fire and one of his colleagues, man or woman, died, charred and blackened.

  “There’s no way out, thief! Mórgomiel is coming to rule everything and you will be reduced to nothing.”

  Cail could do nothing for the thief and kept running as fast as he could. He was relieved when he reached the sewers and heard the water splashing under his feet. He dipped his leg in the dirty black infected waters. What a relief it was when the liquid soothed his burn. The demon rounded the corner and came at him at tremendous speed so that he barely avoided being decapitated. He ran down the sewer, hearing the demon of burning coals stepping into the water and creating a cloud of steam. The sizzling as the coals were extinguished in the water. But what was happening? When he turned to look, he became aware that the demon was not losing heat. Instead, the water was beginning to heat up. This did not look good.

  The demon threw a handful of coals. Cail dove into the black waters in time to avoid being burned. He got to his feet again and moved fast, but everywhere there seemed to be the same kind of demons, all controlled by the same hand. The screams for mercy were so many that Cail was sure that all of his comrades were falling. He would not get out of this one, he knew it. His energy was running out and he could not run fast enough.

  Sendar had been right. Thinking about him, he felt depressed. He would have loved to go back to the safe halls of Maggrath and eat something delicious. Magic comes at a very high cost when you do not use it prudently and Cail had almost used up all of his energy. All he could do now was breathe and keep his eyes open. He could barely move, he was so tired.

  He felt an abnormal cold run through his body. The only benefit of the presence of the demons advancing on him was that the sewer water was warm and kept him at a comfortable temperature. Now, an intense cold had taken over. The demons slowed down and their burning coals began to cool. What the hell?

  Cail saw two figures in grey cloaks coming toward him. Who would be so fucking crazy as to get into a place like this under the rule of evil? He saw those figures release sky-blue energy from their hands, using a staff to launch lightning bolts and flashes that made the demons explode. One of them was a woman with golden skin and she was the one who came to his aid. He sensed that someone was gaining access to his mind and felt the woman’s presence. His head hurt when she spoke to him mind-to-mind.

  This is Ítalshin, and that’s Uroquiel over there. We’ve come to complete the second stage of the plan. Here’s a bit of energy so you can go on. As she said this, the mage infused him with some of her energy and Cail felt as if he were recovering years of youth.

  “You’ve come to complete the plan?”

  “Hell, just run! We’ll talk about it later! We’ve come to clear the Dungeon of Mórgomiel’s Chieftain!”

  Cail knew that his presence was no longer necessary and that no matter how skilled he might be with a dagger, higher magic was about to be unleashed here. The last thing he heard was a demon’s howl of pain followed by an explosion.

  ***

  “And that’s the way it had to be,” the Baron was saying from the shadows. “I had to make you trust your ability to carry out your mission in ignorance of the presence of the demon that evicted me from the Dungeon.”

  “But it killed some of my friends!” Cail said indignantly. He was sitting at the round table, his face lit by the only candle. There was no thief present to represent the Baron. “I almost died!” the young man bellowed. There was hatred in his eyes. He felt betrayed. Used.

  “Until now, Cail, you’ve trusted me blindly. I rescued you from Háztatlon and from the assassins who tried to hunt you down. Before that, when we were still living in the Dungeon, I did all manner of things to keep you and your cousins safe. I know Noela and Gavin died. That was a price I was prepared to pay. Nearly half the assassins were left behind, buried by the demons. But you all carried out the mission, Cail. It’s not easy to be the leader of an operation like the one that’s unfolding at the moment, an operation where you were just a cog in the mechanism we used against the demon of Háztatlon. Now the city can be reclaimed and there’s one less demon to worry about.”

  “But you could’ve told us that the mages were coming to help us!” There were tears in Cail’s eyes. “Or at least warned us that we might die! This was supposed to be a scouting mission!” He was sobbing now. Seeing his comrades die had affected him more than he would have thought possible.

  “I couldn’t, my dear boy. If you’d set out knowing that Ítalshin and Uroquiel were close behind you, you’d have known that powerful spells were waiting for you. The reason why you managed to get the demon out of its lair was because you were able to make it trust that you were unprotected. You killed its soldiers and then you believed you could get out of there. That’s when the demon decided to punish you, without realizing that Ítalshin and Uroquiel were getting a good look at the opponent and taking his measure. As far as the mages were concerned, it was a brilliant attack. Thanks to you and your cousins and uncles, Háztatlon has been regained. The Dungeon has been cleared of demons and a few mages are now on watch there so that they never manage to find their way in again.

  “We won a small battle. Little by little, gambit by gambit, piece by piece, we’ll gain ourselves a favorable position to make use of the slightest opportunity to overthrow Mórgomiel. Cail, listen. I know you’re not used to losing your people, but you’re going to lose a lot more before this war is over. If Mórgomiel wins, it’ll all be over. I need you now more than ever.”

  “For what? To use me as one of your pawns and let me die so you can carry out your enviable strategy? I’m nobody’s pawn!”

  “Cail. Listen, please. You must understand that in this war we all have to carry out our instructions. I know you feel used and it’s true: I used you just as I use Leandro and as Leandro uses me and as all of you use me for my resources. That’s how a successful entity works; we all depend on one another. If one person strays off the path because he feels emotionally numbed, then maybe that person shouldn’t be taking part because he’ll only spoil the plan for those who’ve given themselves completely to the cause.

  “So I’m asking you now: do you want to be a part, a piece in the mechanism of war? Or do you want to give in to your emotions? Will you fight or will you retreat? Decide now, for fuck’s sake! This isn’t the moment to be a coward!”

  Cail’s tears dried up in an instant. He was not used to hearing the Baron shout, but when he did, it would have startled anybody.

  He wiped away his tears. “I’ll fight,” he said.

  “With everything you’ve got?”

  “To the last drop. How can I serve the cause, Baron?”

  “All right, then. Lenga’s leading a group of assassins to the Portal of the Worlds where you’ll slip into Leandro the Impostor’s army. You leave tomorrow at first light.”

  “And Leandro?”

  “He has his instructions. Focus on what concerns you, Cail.”

  “All right, Baron.”

  Chapter XLVIII — Catalgar

  Night fell once again over the Fields of Flora and the guards of the different nations who were established there began the changing of the guard. Those on day duty went to take their boots off inside their tents and the night watch came out of them, stretching their torsos like caged cats.

  “Hand out the soup and give the day watch a chance to eat,” Mondragón Garza shouted. He was the watch captain of the Mandrake Empire. Until now, Mandrake had been the nation giving the orders not only because it had the most soldiers, but because they had already seen their destination.

  “Yes, Captain.”

  Mondragón put on his helmet and tightened his belt. “Report, First Lieutenant Yufa.” He sheathed his sword and then walked over to him.

  “The Torok have eaten another of our pigs. And the empress, that Grizna
n whore, has disappeared since Leandro began his march. We haven’t got enough supplies!”

  Mondragón looked hard at his first lieutenant. Alexander Yufa was the son of immigrants from Moragald’Burg. Thin and gaunt with a thick beard that covered most of his face and long, strong arms. Like the men of iron and stone of that nation, Alexander was anything but docile and gentle.

  “We’ll have to punish them!”

  Mondragón combed his long mustache, the same color as his short hair. “You know that the Torok are the best soldiers we have here. Those beasts follow orders and unlike those appalling insects, the Torok are as fast as carrion birds. I don’t think it’s a good idea to kill a Torok for eating a pig. Why don’t you find out who was in charge of looking after the pigs and then punish him?”

  The first lieutenant’s face paled.

  “Ah, that’s right. I left you in charge of the pigs, Sir Yufa. Are you telling me I should punish you?”

  The captain reached for the pommel of his sword.

  “No, no! Wait! I didn’t mean to say that!”

  “Where’s the real Alexander Yufa? Where’s my first lieutenant?”

  “But that’s me—”

  “The first lieutenant I assigned to the post that you’ve clearly failed to look after has known me for so long that he wouldn’t have had the balls to come here and suggest I punish an animal with the brain the size of a berry. You, sir, are another of those demons that have infiltrated our ranks! Gorvar! Gorvar!”

  The expression on the first lieutenant’s face turned from fright to sarcasm. Then, he began to laugh.

  “Gorvar, we’ve caught another one. Do your thing.”

  The insect who had been summoned came out of his hole in the ground. It was the biggest Dakatak anybody had ever seen, a warrior taller than the other insects by at least a head.

  “You know very well, you impostor, that the empress has left it very clear that we humans are weaklings and give way to temptation. I don’t know how you caught the real Alexander, but you certainly killed him and stole his identity. But the insects, the Torok, and the monoliths are races you can’t interfere with. Gorvar, do your thing. It’s the punishment we impose on those who try to trick us. Too often we’ve had enemies infiltrating our ranks. For any infiltrators who are watching this, take notice of what Gorvar’s about to do to him because this will be your fate too!”

  “No! No!” The cry for mercy was piercing. Gorvar advanced pitilessly and grabbing him, he began to dismember the poor man, amputating his limbs with the strength of his pincer-like jaws. The blood and suffering made two people flee the scene as though the devil were at their heels.

  “Release the Torok!” Mondragón cried. “I want those infiltrators dead! Second Lieutenant Barlow, go and find the first lieutenant’s body. We’ll give him a simple burial. Now you, Kurt Barlow, will be my first lieutenant. Appoint your best man as the second lieutenant. Quickly!”

  “Yes, sir!” said the newly-promoted lieutenant, a short broad-shouldered man, who ran off to bark his orders.

  “Since the birds came with the warning that Leandro was marching this way, the problems have got worse,” muttered Captain Garza as he walked over to the portal on its great platform. It was now several weeks following the arrival of the elves since anybody else had crossed over. He had been expecting more armies to emerge from the vortex, more help from other worlds, but perhaps the travelers who had left with the mage Elgahar had encountered trouble in the worlds they had visited.

  “The portal’s shining again!” cried a guard on watch duty.

  “Hey, it’s shining!” added a newly-arrived soldier whose armor was still a little large for him.

  “Prepare for an attack,” Captain Garza shouted. He had received instructions to prepare for battle whenever anybody crossed the portal. Unless the foreigners proved their identity with the copper coin, they would be eliminated.

  At once, the military divisions of Mandrake, the Divine Providence, Grizna, Dakatak, the Mílikin, Doolm-Ondor, Moragald’Burg, Cristalur, and Kathanas leapt into action and picked up their weapons. They formed around the Portal in exactly the way they had so often practiced.

  “Prepare your weapons!” Captain Garza shouted. “Lancers! Archers! Swords out! Shields at your side!” He was nervous. Anything might be crossing that portal and if it turned out to be a demon several strides tall, it would tear them all to pieces in a matter of moments.

  The portal gave out an intense light, then the first figure appeared. They all sighed at the sight of a gigantic he-goat with arching horns, coffee-colored eyes with horizontal pupils, a covering of thick fur, an erect chest with two powerful arms, and a long body like a horse with four strong legs. This being, like the insects, had six limbs. Unlike the insects, four of them were for walking and two for handling objects.

  The figure held up the copper coin. “My name is Valímidos, Centurion of the legions of Ulrica, the Iptaan of Hoomasaas, the Lady of the Catalgar Empire. I bring this.”

  Captain Mondragón relaxed a little at the sight of the coin. He would not have liked to have to fight against a being like this. And he spoke the common language of the Empire! What an amazing thing!

  “Ahem.” Where’s Sokomonoko when I need her? Mondragón thought while he wondered what to say. “Welcome to the world of the Meridian where the armies of several nations and worlds are gathering to wage war against the God of Chaos. Have you come alone?”

  Centurion Valímidos laughed. “Friends and compatriots of Elgahar the great mage, savior of Yoshto, who returned the fire to our Faroos. In gratitude for the mage’s effort, our Iptaan has sent fifty thousand soldiers, armed and ready for battle.”

  “Fifty thousand! Where on earth are we going to shelter them all?” Captain Garza thought out loud. “My apologies. I mean, what an honor! Please come through and assemble your army on this beautiful and spacious field where you can set up camp.”

  “I appreciate your kindness,” Valímidos said and stepped back to the portal. When he came back, he did so galloping at full speed with a flag in his hands bearing the badge of his people: a he-goat bearing two swords, one in each hand, crossed over his head.

  “Catalgar! Catalgar!” cried the centurion. After him came two lines of soldiers at a steady trot.

  “Fifty thousand soldiers as big as that,” said First Lieutenant Barlow. “My goodness! We’re going to beat the hell out of the God of Chaos with this lot.”

  Valímidos came to shake hands with Garza. The captain and his first lieutenant were speechless at the size of the huge he-goat, who was a head taller than them. His chest was wide from shoulder to shoulder with large muscles bulging beneath his fur. The equine body looked powerfully-built. The Catalgar’s armor was impressive, made of very thin polished iron and covering his body and torso.

  “I can see insects like Ushka, humans like Elgahar, crystals like Tagulumich, and other humans like Chirllp,” Valímidos said proudly. “This is an honor.”

  “There are elves too,” Barlow muttered nervously.

  “Those I don’t know, but it will be an honor for us Catalgar to meet the elves. Now then, let’s sit down and exchange stories. I’d love to get to know you.”

  The procession of fifty thousand Catalgar took several hours to pass and spread out along the Fields of Flora. The giant he-goats came well prepared and set up their tents quickly. Captain Mondragón was pleased to observe that the giant he-goats were very obedient and followed instructions to the letter. He was sure that there would be no trouble with them and with luck, they would be difficult to corrupt, unlike men.

  Leandro must be only days away from the Portal of the Worlds by now, and once he came close with the legions of hundreds of thousands, the side of Good would already be occupying the plain of the Fields of Flora, ready to unleash a massive war on the enemy.

  Chapter XLIX - Astronomers

  The three moons were aligned. The two suns were hiding in the planet’s shadow. Open-eyed and o
pen-mouthed, the astronomers were contemplating the great celestial objects.

  On their four legs and with their torsos erect, the centaurs stretched their hands up toward the sky, pointing to the different constellations named in honor of their heroes, their divinities, and their predictions.

  Not just the Erards, but the leaders of each Saalma’ha—the temples where the Seven Essences were worshipped—were studying the ether with close attention. Every centaur was doing so in his or her own way and it was normal for couples in love or simply friends of old to gather to study the sky for hours on end.

  At Evanescent, the capital of Gatasclán, the Republic of the Centaurs, the contemplation of celestial objects was one of the most popular pastimes. Particularly on a day as special as today: the Íoros, a unique occasion which occurred every century when the three moons came into alignment and the two suns were hidden by the shadow of the world. Because of this, the night was exceptionally long and allowed the stars to be observed over several days.

  For the citizens of Evanescent and many other cities of Gatasclán; for centaurs who devoted themselves to philosophy; for teachers of physics, science, poetry, literature, art, sculpture, and particularly astronomy; this day was one to take pleasure in, enjoy, and share. For the Erard of the Saalma’ha of Evanescent, it was more than simply a day for rejoicing and awed contemplation.

  The Erard of this temple had spent decades tracking the course of the stars and, as a good man of faith and an excellent visionary, he had predicted that the Íoros of this century would bring great surprises.

  Evanescent was a large city that spanned almost a hundred leagues, having absorbed three other cities of the Republic of Gatasclán during its rapid growth.

  The period of the Naissance had occurred when the centaurs had understood that they would achieve more if they were united and, like the good thinkers and great architects they were, they caused their cities to grow expansively.

  Thousands of years earlier, they had been a barbaric culture. During the Naissance, the founders of Gatasclán had made use of their skills as thinkers and philosophers, and the centaurs had prevailed and become stronger. They managed to keep their mortal enemy, the gigantic bears of Gorsbath, contained in their land far away from the unfolding development of Gatasclán.