by Jeff Inlo
"Your first step should be to keep Reiculf from extending his power."
"I thought he already accomplished that," Enin remarked. "He has already extended his grasp beyond Demonspawn."
Ansas shook his head with irritation, annoyed he had to explain himself.
"You are combining two separate objectives. Yes, he has broken the barrier that once contained him. He has achieved that goal by mixing his magic with individuals that made certain choices... choices regarding the acceptance of my magical core. Just because he already has hosts that can spread his influence beyond Demonspawn does not mean he will stop with what he has already obtained. His next objective will be to magnify the extent of his reach. He will go after others... everyone that was once connected to my energy."
"But Macheve did not accept your core," Enin countered. "She took Neltus' core."
Ansas sighed as he corrected the wizard.
"And Neltus core contained echoes of mine. When it comes to Reiculf, the transference of ebony magic does not have to be direct. That is a key aspect of alteration. Transformation ripples indirectly as well as directly."
"So we have to stop him from getting more hosts. But all those who received a slice of Neltus' magical core have passed on, save for Macheve, and Reiculf already has her."
"You are forgetting yourself," Ansas corrected the wizard.
"I received no part of Neltus' core!" Enin objected.
Ansas explained through yet another and even heavier sigh.
"You gave a slice of your magic to Neltus. He accepted it. It became part of him. He then returned it. Whether you wish to admit it or not, you are contaminated."
Enin wished to debate the matter, but Holli interrupted him. Elf guards were trained not to panic, but she could not hide a look of great anxiety.
"There are others Reiculf will target, aren't there?" the elf demanded.
"Indeed there are," Ansas confirmed. "As I have said, Enin is vulnerable. There are also those who accepted full slices of my magic. Neltus is here, Rivira is dead and beyond Reiculf's reach. Reiculf has the other two."
"Macheve and Gnafil?"
"Macheve did not receive a full slice of my magic. The serp was exposed in the same manner in which Enin is vulnerable. No, I am referring to the elf spell caster, Scheff Rutlan. He now belongs to Reiculf as well. You do not believe me? If Neltus concentrates, he can sense it."
"He's right," Neltus admitted. "He's got the elf. He's got three now!"
"Reiculf is already planning a fourth," Ansas added.
"I told you he wants me!" Neltus bellowed.
"He does, but you are not his immediate desire."
"Who?!" Holli demanded.
"A fifth received a small trace of my energy. I did not require her to purify herself, so she did not fully feed off my power, but she utilized it to keep her camp alive. The elder of your former camp... Shantree Wispon."
Chapter 9
Scheff's appearance at the serp's side left Shantree disheartened, but she could not claim absolute surprise. Not long ago, she had witnessed the elf spell caster run off to join with the sorcerer Ansas, even after the sorcerer committed treachery against the entire elf camp. She had watched Scheff reveal his immaturity and conceit as he hoped to prove his worth against any who questioned him.
But Scheff had lost a confrontation against the noble wizard Jure, was even chastised and discarded by Ansas for his failure. In hopes of atonement, the elf spell caster professed enlightenment from the encounter, even revealed great remorse, remorse the elf elder believed was genuine. To Shantree's growing dismay, Scheff's latest actions shed doubt upon that belief.
Shantree did not wish to accept that the talented spell caster, so powerful in the way of the storm, could have deceived her entire camp, but she could not dismiss the proof before her. Her camp had fallen victim to treachery once again, and Scheff was at the heart of the betrayal. With a serp at his side, he was coming for her, and he displayed his animosity toward his own kind with brutal resentment.
Scheff dispatched the elder's guards with such immediacy and such violence, Shantree wondered if the elf spell caster had gone insane. Initially, she believed the serp had somehow taken control of Scheff, or at least revived the arrogance which nourished his previous errors in judgment. But the viciousness of his attack forced her to consider other alternatives.
Scheff didn't simply neutralize the elf guards, he annihilated them. He pulled them from the trees with small and nimble wind spins that the guards could not fight or outmaneuver. The swirling pockets took hold of the elves and pummeled them into the forest ground. Without question, Scheff fed his spell with far more force than was necessary to simply subdue his opponents. He meant to punish them.
Three of the five elf guards were knocked senseless by the blunt force of the assault. The remaining two were conscious, but in no condition to offer any resistance. Despite their loyalty to the elf elder and their desire to protect her at any cost, they were unable to rise from the ground.
The apparent helplessness of her guards, however, did little to satisfy the elf spell caster. Scheff wanted to do more than simply render the elf protectors harmless, or even punish them. With unequaled savagery, he chose to obliterate them.
Horrified, Shantree witnessed five bolts of lightning streak down from the sky with incredible accuracy and strike the center of each guard. The blinding flashes of light and the corresponding cracks of thunder left the elf elder momentarily stunned. When Shantree regained her senses, all she could see remaining of her guards were five piles of burnt and broken bones. The flesh and muscle had been instantly incinerated by the intense heat of the attack.
Such cruelty passed the limits of reckless conduct and into the realm of absolute malice. Shantree could not accept that any serp had the power to motivate an elf into taking such heinous actions. The elder believed there was something far more sinister behind Scheff's intentions, and she wondered how far he would go.
"And now that I am defenseless," the elf elder called out, "what shall you do with me?"
She looked to Scheff, but it was the serp who answered.
"You will not suffer the same fate," Macheve hissed, and then paused to allow hope for a reprieve to grow. After but a few uneasy moments of silence, the serp gleefully destroyed any such optimism. "A far more important purpose waits for you. You appear appalled by this elf's actions. Do not judge him too harshly, for you will be joining him, and you will be just as eager to destroy what is left of your camp."
"You overestimate your influence," Shantree responded defiantly.
"If I am indeed able to take this spell caster under my control, what makes you think you can refuse? Do you think your magic is more powerful than his?"
"My magic? No. But my will is."
Macheve stifled a chuckle and then hinted at the power behind her.
"The will of an elf elder is indeed strong, probably strong enough to fight off my influence. But do you really think this comes down to a simple test of willpower? The elf spell caster had sufficient resolve to stave off my influence, but he still failed."
"Why?" Shantree demanded, hoping to gain some insight into the threat she faced.
"Because this is about the past, about choices made."
Shantree saw a hint of legitimacy in the answer. Scheff had abandoned the elf camp before. Perhaps that made him more vulnerable, but she had always remained loyal, loyal to her duties and loyal to the elves she hoped to guide.
"Scheff's misjudgment and errors are well known to me. If you found some way to exploit his weaknesses, that would only assist you in overtaking his mind... not mine."
"And you have made no mistakes? You are perfect?" The serp could not contain a deep grunt of disgust. "Far from it, elf elder. You are more similar to Scheff than you will ever admit."
Shantree found the accusation insulting.
"I have never neglected my responsibilities! I have always put the camp first."
"Yo
ur concept of selflessness is rather limited. Arrogance is a rather wide net. Scheff's conceit might have been obvious to all, but yours is no less damning."
"Arrogance has nothing to do with duty."
"A foolish statement if ever there was one."
"Then prove me the fool and try to take over my mind."
Macheve replied with a voice that had grown deeper and more commanding. It seemed to rumble toward Shantree like distant thunder rolling over the treetops. More than anger rippled through the serp's speech; there was violence in every word, violence which surpassed the depraved acts the elf leader had already witnessed. The vast cruelty in each echo forced the elder to recoil from the sound.
"Prove? You actually want me to prove how foolish you are, elf? Do you wish me to tear your soul from your body and feast on it as if it were dried meat? No, that would be too quick and not nearly painful enough. You care so much for your pathetic camp of elves... what if I make them pay for your foolishness? I can summon flames from the depths of the land and engulf their forest home, use their precious trees as torches, leaving them with nowhere to run. Will you feel like a fool when I force their bodies to rise up from the fires... to bring them to you with their flesh dripping off their bones, melted by the heat of my hate? I would not let them die, of course, not right away. I would let you listen to their wails, allow you to see what your challenge has wrought."
Shantree knew that no serp could wield such power, even one capable of taking hold of Scheff's mind. She realized there was something far more wicked involved than a crazed elf spell caster and a corrupt serp. She sensed the hand of a demon.
"You are not simply serp," the elder accused. "What are you? Draevol? Dynghoul? Dieruhne?"
The elder was not a powerful spell caster—she certainly could not match the spells of Scheff—but she was skilled and wise enough to manipulate the magic in many ways. She wished to reveal her enemy, but to do so would require her to look within the serp, to follow the strings of the puppet back to the master.
She attempted to be discreet, but her age and her anxiety betrayed her. As she constructed the spell, she realized both the serp and Scheff would know exactly what she was doing. Believing they would thwart her clumsy effort, she almost cancelled the spell, but that would have required more effort than simply letting it fly.
Reiculf grinned. Even as he stood within the decayed realm of hate, he could see through Scheff and Macheve's eyes and hear through their ears. He sensed what the foolish elf elder was doing, probably before she was certain of her actions herself.
There was no reason to keep the elf from learning the truth. She would know soon enough. It would be much more entertaining for her to discover her looming fate on her own, while she still retained full control of her consciousness. Reiculf allowed the spell to achieve its desired results.
The magical incantation rolled down Shantree's arm, dropped from the tree which held her aloft, and flew across the ground to hit Macheve in the center of the serp's chest. When it did, her form began to shimmer. A cresting shadow rose up in her place. The elf elder's fears exploded as she looked upon the colossal form of a demon far more powerful than a draevol, dynghoul, or dieruhne. The wicked smile left her frozen, and the sinister pale eyes would haunt her thoughts for the rest of her existence. She had looked into the face of pure iniquity, and it burned its memory forever into her mind.
"Do you still wish to challenge me?" Reiculf teased through the serp's mouth.
Shantree did not answer. She knew she was staring at the daokiln. It would have been difficult enough for her to fight Scheff and Macheve, but she knew she could not defeat the master of all demons.
In one desperate act, she used the last of her magic to call out for help. She did not send the request to other elves. Though they would be willing to die to save her, she could not bring herself to sacrifice her followers in a futile effort. If she was to survive, she would require the aid of powerful magic, magic held in a magnitude that only humans seemed to possess.
She did not call for Enin, for she could not be certain that he would come, or even hear her plea, but there was another. An elderly human wizard in Connel also exhibited great proficiency in the ways of magic and had previously displayed his respect and admiration for the elf leader. Shantree believed he would both hear her call and come to her aid.
#
Jure enjoyed walking through the farmlands to the north of Connel. He could teleport to any place in Uton in an instant, but it was the quiet and empty roads that bordered the fields of the northlands where he found the greatest comfort. Late in the harvest season, the air remained fairly cool even with the midday sun blazing overhead. Many of the fields had already been picked clean, the crops harvested, and Jure could see for vast distances across the still plains.
He walked slowly, a testament to both his age and his state of mind. He was in no hurry to reach any particular destination, and his knees ached from too many seasons past. It didn't matter. He didn't hope to escape the dull ache in his bones. He only wished for quiet, a bit of solitude away from the bustling activity of Connel.
It seemed as if Connel was always moving; both humans and dwarves rushing in every direction, and the very borders of the city expanding outward every day. He didn't always mind the commotion, but he needed breaks from it. It seemed he needed more time to himself as the days grew shorter.
Night was not necessarily a difficult time for Jure, but the normal evening activities of both humans and dwarves left him anxiously searching for other alternatives. Dwarves lived for the night. In the darkness, they thrived. They enjoyed eating, dancing and drinking; especially with humans who found delight in the company of such joyous revelers. Jure never cared for such distractions and often found himself holed up in his room practicing spells or just following the surge of magic across the land.
Sleep was becoming more difficult for him. With his mind and body constantly aware of the flow of magic, he often found it impossible to clear his thoughts enough to fall into slumber. He didn't necessarily need much sleep, at least not to rest his body. He could rejuvenate himself with the magic, but his mind needed a respite from the complex considerations of his growing skill.
Taking long walks during midday seemed to offer the best remedy. With the sun overhead, he did not have to concern himself as much with hook hawks, goblins, or other dark creatures that stalked more commonly during the darker hours. Stepping along lonely dirt roads, he could finally clear his mind and simply allow himself to exist as if magic had never returned to the land.
In a state of such serenity, it was no wonder that Shantree's call for aid exploded so clearly in his mind. Jure was able to seize the magical message in such a way that he could follow it immediately back to its point of origin. With the elf elder acting as the anchor for his destination, he did not hesitate in casting a spell of teleportation that brought him directly to her side.
Despite his age, Jure was quick in both mind and deed. From the call itself, he knew Shantree was in danger, and he immediately took action to secure his position. He was no where near as comfortable as the elves at standing high upon the wavering branches of tall trees, but his experience with magic brought him the necessary familiarity with heights and unstable surroundings.
He could not fly as Enin could, but he had learned to teleport himself into many different environments. Even with unsteady knees, he understood stability was a frame of mind and an acceptance of one's circumstances. The tree he found himself standing upon would serve him as a suitable foundation, as long as he adapted to his situation. He stepped closer to the trunk and set his feet firmly upon two separate limbs. He then scanned the surrounding grounds as he requested further information from Shantree.
"What's wrong?"
The elder pointed to the intruders that had come to claim her.
"The elf, Scheff, and the serp. They are emboldened by Reiculf, and he means to take me as well."
Jure wanted to question
the assertion, but the trembling voice of the elder made it clear that she believed what she had stated and was greatly afraid. Knowing that very little could cause such panic in the elf leader, Jure placed even greater attention on the scene below.
With his eyes, he followed the trail of a light mist, and he noted the large fog bank that engulfed a wide portion of the trees in the distance. He could also hear the sounds of battle from deeper in the haze.
"Who is fighting?" Jure asked, desiring as much information as possible.
"They brought river rogues into our camp. The guard is trying to establish..."
"Do not worry about the rogues," Macheve interrupted in her own voice, Reiculf deciding to drift back and allow the serp and elf to handle the wizard. "They are a distraction, nothing more."
Jure continued to scan the forest below. He quickly spotted the remains of several elves, their bodies almost entirely obliterated. He sensed the energy behind the magical lightning. He could follow the remnants of the spell directly to Scheff.
"I thought you had learned your lesson," Jure asked of the elf spell caster.
"I did," Scheff admitted, "but I also learned that I can not be free of what I was. I could not erase my mistakes."
"Sounds like a poor excuse to me... a poor excuse to kill your fellow elves."
"I am not what you think," the elf sneered.
"Reiculf is within the serp," Shantree warned the wizard. "I saw it. I believe he is in Scheff as well."
During his long nights of restlessness, Jure also read... and he studied the legends. He knew of Reiculf, and though he had many questions, he knew it was not the time to discuss details. He decided instead to question the elf directly.
"Is that true, Scheff? Has Reiculf taken control of you?"
"Control? You think that is all... that he is simply influencing what I can do? Hardly. Let me show you just how much of Reiculf is within me."
Scheff turned about and faced the trees still shrouded in fog. He stretched his arms out in front of him, his palms turned down to the ground. Instead of a single circle of pure violet magic, three rings of colorless energy enveloped his arms. The energy swirled about, distorting the air like heat from a fire. When the elf spell caster lifted his hands, all three circles exploded outward.
