Diablo: The Sin War Box Set: Birthright, Scales of the Serpent, and The Veiled Prophet

by Richard A. Knaak

  “That, I cannot promise, son of Diomedes. Her slumber must be very strong, so that Lilith can also have some access to her memories and thus better perpetuate the lie. Even if my mother is ousted, I cannot in full honesty promise that your friend will be restored.”

  “I should’ve never been taken from Hashir! I’ve got to go to her immediately, then! Send me from this place or show me how to do it myself!”

  But Rathma remained steadfast. “Had you been left in the situation from which we took you, you would have at this point been nothing more than a shell acting on Lilith’s behalf. She is constantly altering her plots as the moment invites, hence the difficulty of predicting her next move. Having taken the woman’s body and seeing the foolish attack by whoever in turn played her role as Primus, she obviously decided that you could not be trusted to lead as she wanted. In fact, my mother is the reason that you were so weakened at the last moment. Clad as someone so dear to you, you let her through much of your guard. She infiltrated your body and soul, manipulating your thoughts and actions. If we had not taken you when we had, Hashir would have proven the point where Lilith took utter mastery over you, as well, Uldyssian.”

  “So, instead she has it over Serenthia and the others,” Uldyssian retorted. “Your help seems more trouble for me than it’s worth…”

  Rathma acknowledged his comment with a slight tilt of his head, adding, “I have erred much too much. I agree. But alone you would have fallen quickly to her. There is still opportunity to remedy this, if you will just listen.”

  “Serenthia—”

  “Will be lost forever if you try to separate her from Lilith at this juncture. As distasteful as I, too, find it, my mother must be given her free hand for the moment. But only for the moment.”

  Such a vile thought did not sit at all well with Uldyssian. He could not imagine what would become of Serenthia and the rest under the wicked guidance of the demoness. Yet, he had to admit that confronting Lilith would be a monumental task; how could he keep from injuring or possibly even slaying Serenthia?

  “What can we do?” he finally demanded of the pale figure. “Tell me that, at least!”

  Rathma gestured ahead to where a passage at the far end beckoned. “We can go on to where we should.”

  It was the sort of answer that Uldyssian had unfortunately expected. Still, as much as possible, he intended that matters would from here on go as he wanted. With that in mind, he strode off at a quick pace past the other.

  Taller and longer of leg, Rathma quickly caught up to him. Lilith’s son then kept pace, perhaps trying to make Uldyssian not feel so guided.

  They journeyed through a mazelike series of corridors that someone had meticulously carved out long, long ago. The corridors had no illumination, but Rathma pulled free his dagger, uttered a word in the strange tongue he had used previous, and suddenly the blade shone. Because of that alone, Uldyssian finally fell back a step behind his companion.

  As they made their way, Uldyssian could not help but feel that someone or something watched them. He did not broach the subject with Rathma, for fear of the answer that the other might give. Uldyssian had enough with which to concern himself already.

  After what seemed the dozenth meandering passage, Rathma finally looked back at him. “We are nearly there. I ask that you pay careful attention to yourself…”

  The black-clad figure did not clarify what he meant. Uldyssian resolved to continue to keep on his guard. What else could he do? The breathing sound that he had first heard in the outer cavern was not so loud it pounded in his ears. Whatever it was that they sought, it was very likely also the source of the ominous sound.

  Then, but a few steps after Rathma’s warning, what felt like a wave of intense heat washed over Uldyssian. Yet, the heat rolled through him from within, not without. He felt his pulse quicken and all his concerns—Serenthia, Mendeln, the edyrem, and the rest—magnified at least a thousandfold. His step faltered and it was all he could do to smother a moan.

  Ahead, Rathma continued on as if unmindful of his plight. That only upset Uldyssian more. How could the fool not see that they wasted their time, that they faced insurmountable hurdles? How could he—

  Rathma’s warning came back to him. Shaking with effort, Uldyssian forced away the rising fears, the worries…and suddenly the heat within dissipated.

  “You are better again?” the cowled figure asked without looking back.

  “You could’ve given better warning than you did!”

  Still facing the path before them, Rathma shook his head. “No, regrettably, I could not.”

  Uldyssian might have argued that, but then a faint red gleam arose from the far end of the corridor. At the same time, there came a sound like shattering glass that reverberated through the passage. Uldyssian stepped up next to Rathma, who slowed his own pace.

  “Stay near me when we enter the chamber. Our way is not completely clear.”

  “Not even for you?”

  “This place is of my father’s making.”

  His words were punctuated by another loud crash. Keeping wary, Uldyssian did as he was bade. His pulse raced again and although he knew that it had to do with what lay farther on, he was unable to calm himself.

  “What is it?” Uldyssian finally had to ask.

  “The making and unmaking of us. Inarius’s ultimate yoke for humanity. You shall see…”

  As they drew closer, the crimson gleam—and the slow but incessant breathing—grew even more pronounced. Whatever lay within the chamber glittered as bright as a sun. Rathma muttered something and his dagger dulled. However, Lilith’s son did not put the weapon away.

  “Be wary…” Rathma warned as they reached the end of the corridor. “Take each step slowly.”

  Together, they entered the new cavern. However, immediately the light became so glaring that even when Uldyssian shielded his eyes, it was impossible to see beyond his own feet.

  And then—“We are under attack!”

  The warning from Rathma barely came in time. A high-pitched squeal almost deafened Uldyssian. Acting on instinct, he immediately created a barrier above him.

  There was a heavy thump and an angry shriek. Uldyssian heard the flapping of wings. It was swiftly followed by scratching and more squealing. He was under assault by more than one of the foul creatures.

  Uldyssian spun around so that he faced the tunnel. That enabled him to just barely see. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a leathery wing.

  From elsewhere, Rathma called out. Uldyssian did not understand him and so assumed that the ancient figure was casting some sort of spell. That reminded him that he, too, supposedly had fantastic abilities. Swearing under his breath, Uldyssian listened for the next approaching attacker.

  The sound of wings from his left was all that he needed. He thrust a hand in that direction.

  Whatever flew at him let out another squeal. Whether this was designed to shatter his eardrums or for some other reason, Uldyssian now used the cry against the creature. He repelled the squeal, letting it strike back with several times its original intensity.

  From the direction of his foe came another shriek, followed by the thumping of a body against what Uldyssian believed rock. The shrieking continued, but with a pained tone to it. Thumping accompanied the cry, as if the winged beast was going through convulsions.

  Rathma somehow cut through the multitude of squeals. “Uldyssian! Back up to my voice!”

  Uldyssian obeyed. An anxious breath later, he collided with what he hoped was the pale figure.

  The ivory dagger flashed before Uldyssian’s pained eyes. Before he could react, he heard Rathma chant something.

  The dagger flared, blinding Uldyssian. He wondered if he had been duped all along, that Rathma had brought him here at Lilith’s request so that she could humiliate him one last time before he perished.

  Yet after that moment of blindness, Uldyssian’s eyesight not only returned, but became normal…something even h
e, with his powers, had not been able to accomplish. Now he could see well enough to turn from the tunnel.

  And what he saw left him dead in his tracks.

  The cavern he stood within dwarfed the previous one. It dropped deep below as well as rose high above. Rathma and he stood on what was actually some wide, ancient platform carved from stone. It was several yards long and at the end stretched to each side. Uldyssian realized that if the creatures had driven him much farther to the right, he would have fallen to his doom.

  A low wall lined the platform and at the corners were small constructions built like step pyramids. Atop each glowed a tiny—and in this chamber—insignificant light.

  The chamber’s own color reminded Uldyssian of a living heart fresh with blood. He only studied that aspect for a moment, though, for that which was the focus of this place now demanded his absolute attention.

  It resembled some of the crystalline formations that, as a boy, Uldyssian had found in the small caves at home, but none of those had stood well over a hundred feet high—perhaps even more than two hundred, since the base was too deep down to view—consisting of several monoliths jutting in a dozen different directions. Unlike the formations he recalled, this behemoth had a harshness to its look, with its jagged appearance and frightening crimson color.

  Each facet of the gargantuan formation contained thousands of minute ones. From within it emanated not only the illumination that had so burnt Uldyssian’s eyes, but, deeper yet, flashes of multicolored lightning. The overall light from the great crystal not only extended the entire length and breadth of the cavern—itself vast enough to fit the village of Seram and its surrounding lands within at least twenty times over—but looked as if it seeped through the very stone walls.

  With each burst of lightning, the formation pulsated and at last Uldyssian understood the source of the “breathing.”

  There came another ear-tearing, shattering sound. Uldyssian looked up and for the first time noticed that smaller fragments of the crystal—”smaller” as in only two or three times his height and width—floated around much of the cavern in seemingly random directions. The harsh noise had come from two such pieces colliding. The broken fragments spilled around—and then began to re-form in different designs.

  All this Uldyssian drank in in only a few scant seconds. Then, a more immediate and highly grotesque sight took Uldyssian’s attention from the astounding crystal. Four winged furies with heads resembling skinned hounds dove down at him from various points above. The creatures had savage teeth and ears long and wide. Their snouts were fat, with wide nostrils. The only thing the heads lacked were eyes. There were not even gaps where the eyes should have been. It was almost as if whatever had created them had forgone such on purpose.

  Perhaps that was not far from the truth. Of what use were eyes in this place, where only Rathma’s magic had enabled Uldyssian to see anything. Of better use were the huge ears and the nostrils, which could ferret out any prey entering.

  Each of the beasts had a wingspan of at least six feet, and like the bats they somewhat resembled in shape, those wings were also their hands. Yet, unlike bats, the claws of these aberrations were each longer than Uldyssian’s hand and so razor-sharp that to be cut by them even once would surely cause a gaping, dangerous wound.

  Uldyssian cupped his hand. A blue energy formed over his palm. He threw it at the nearest of the fiends.

  The blue energy engulfed its target…and vanished in a puff. The winged fury shook its head, stunned but otherwise unhindered. Certainly not turned to ash, as Uldyssian had assumed it would be.

  Startled by this failure, he barely recovered in time to re-create the shield. Even that was not as strong as it generally was, and with three—then four—assailing it, Uldyssian began to sweat.

  It was Rathma, naturally, who supplied an answer. From farther in, Lilith’s son—his vast cloak seeming to provide him with the same protection as Uldyssian’s barrier—shouted, “Your powers are dampened here! It is the effect of the crystal! You must focus harder, whatever you attempt!”

  Cursing the other for not having told him this before they had entered, Uldyssian concentrated more on the barrier. By now, seven of the bizarre beasts fluttered about him, each seeking to shred his flesh. Up close, he saw that they had no true bodies whatsoever. There were the shriveled remnants of a torso and what might have been vestigial legs. The creatures were essentially composed of wings and head. Uldyssian wondered whether they even ate…then decided such a question was one for which he would prefer not to have an answer.

  Mouths snapped at his face, sometimes coming much closer than he desired. Forcing himself to calm down despite the frenzied efforts of his attackers, Uldyssian wondered how best to defend himself. What he had assumed a deadly attack had failed miserably. Uldyssian had to choose well, for when he struck, his shield would also weaken. Even with his recuperative powers, he doubted that he would survive long should even one beast manage a slash.

  In the end, there was only one strategy that came to mind, a variation on something he had done earlier. Drawing himself up, Uldyssian took a deep breath…and whistled.

  To his own ears—and hopefully to Rathma’s as well—all he did was let out a long, loud, single note. Certain that his efforts would again be muted by the massive crystal, the son of Diomedes concentrated as much of his will as he dared—possibly even more—into the whistle. As he did, he felt a wing brush against his shoulder…

  But in the next instant, just as what felt like a claw touched his arm, every winged monster around Uldyssian let out a bloodcurdling shriek. They pulled back from him, then whirled around as if entirely mad. Two immediately collided, but instead of merely separating, tore at each other as they had at the human. Another crashed into the rocky wall of the cavern, then repeated the accident over and over until it finally crashed on the floor.

  Three others simply dropped to the ground, where they screeched and shook their heads as if trying to remove something.

  “I would not have believed it if I had not witnessed it,” Rathma called in his ear. The cowled figure stepped up next to Uldyssian. “What you did should not have been possible for you in this of all places.”

  “I just followed your advice. I just concentrated harder. It worked.”

  “It should not have…especially not to this degree. Look around you, Uldyssian ul-Diomed. Look around you and see the truth of that.”

  Uldyssian did as he was bade…and his eyes widened at the results of his desperate attempt.

  More than three score creatures either flew or lay in states of chaos. Two collided with floating fragments. Several fought furiously with one another, while others on the ground twitched wildly. At least two were savagely biting themselves to such a degree that their deaths were certain.

  Then, two in aerial combat dropped. A moment later, some of those on the floor stilled. As Uldyssian looked around, the cavern’s denizens one by one simply fell to the ground…and died.

  “I don’t—I don’t understand…”

  Rathma shrugged as if it should all make perfect sense to anyone. There was a red scar on his chin and a tear in his garments just above where Uldyssian supposed his heart should be. The creatures had gotten closer to slaying the ancient being than they had the son of Diomedes. “You recalled their similarity to bats, obviously. You imagined that, if you whistled loud and used the power within to amplify it, you would at least injure or confuse some…yes?”

  “Yes…but…I thought I might succeed with those before me, but…”

  “You should have been fortunate to do that, even with my warning.” Rathma shook his head. “Uldyssian ul-Diomed, you are not what you should be.” He looked over his shoulder. “And the reason for that must have to do with you…”

  That to which Lilith’s son referred was none other than the vast, menacing crystal. Even with bat creatures perishing all around them, Uldyssian could not help but again stare in fascination at it. Never could he have im
agined such a thing existing.

  “What is it?” he at last asked. “Why is it here?”

  Rathma gestured at the floating giant. “It is the reason why no nephalem or anything akin to it has risen lo these many centuries, my friend. It is the reason why you and yours should not exist! You stand before the curse of all the descendants of those angels and demons who forged Sanctuary! You stand before the Worldstone…”

  Merely hearing the name sent an involuntary shiver through Uldyssian, as if some part of him should have always known of this incredible artifact…known of it and rightly feared its existence.

  Even with the aid of Rathma’s spell, the Worldstone was hard to eye directly. Uldyssian discovered that he could best observe it by glancing slightly to the side. Even then, it sparkled as if reflecting a hundred red suns.

  “Inarius thought the nephalem a disease, a disgrace to what he was. To him, we should have never been. He only agreed to consider our fate as opposed to erasing us from existence because of the protests of the others. I feel that he would have yet chosen to follow through with his original intention if not for my mother murdering the other refugees. That act altered everything. Had Inarius exterminated us afterward, then he would have been all alone, something which even he could not stand. Yet, the notion of the nephalem disgusted him and that is why he took the Worldstone—which had been created in great part as a manner by which to hide Sanctuary from the eyes of the High Heavens and the Burning Hells—and altered its resonance.”

  Uldyssian had been trying to follow Rathma’s tale as best as possible, but did not understand the last at all. “What does that mean? What would that do?”

  “What it means is thus; in addition to secreting this realm, the Worldstone also began a steady and subtle dampening process. Each succeeding generation of nephalem became far less powerful than the previous, until, in very short order, those next born were bereft of any ability. Soon, only a few from the first generation—myself and Bul-Kathos, to name the obvious—survived. The gifts—or curse—of our forebears was forgotten. Inarius began reshaping Sanctuary to his satisfaction…and to his iron rule.”