by Zac Atie
After leaving the forests, grasslands and minor cities of Metholi, he ends up entering the capital of the Metholian Kingdom, Trinity. He rode through the streets past the hover cars and underneath the spacecrafts above. The sights in Trinity were certainly something to see, lights as far as the eye can see and skyscrapers that made shadows that spanned across a quarter of the city. Civilians hailed the nobleman as he passed by on his Wyvern, bowing in respect, and those that recognized him as the apprentice of their Overlord Sancterus cheered. However, he made sure not to have anybody witness the baby he is holding in his arms, as that cannot be reported to anybody without the Council knowing about it first. He passes by large news screens that report that the Town of Cienka has been sacked and it’s possible that the Domini is responsible for the massacre. This is not good, because although the Cazrians are a peace loving race, not all Cazrians will stand up and defend the Domini civilians if a riot is broke out by other alien species. Most of them saw what they’re capable of, and they all know that a Domini civilian can learn faster than anybody to become a necromancer. However, the reports will soon change, whether it be a confirmation of the Domini sacking the peaceful town of Cienka, or a report of the Domini waging war on Zolka. Abaddon faces way from the news, biting his lip and proceeding forward towards the Tower of Xelphan.
Abaddon dismounts his Wyvern, leaving it lying down in an open area outside the Tower. Wyverns were extremely smart, and knew enough not to cause trouble around the city, and citizens had nothing to fear from the creature. Abaddon enters the tower with the baby in hand, getting ready to present the news of Sancterus’ death… when his breath is held in fright as he sees a shocking sight. It’s Glackan, an ally of Draynar’s, sitting outside the elevator within the huge main lobby, awaiting an audience with the Council, or even worse, awaiting Draynar to return. “Damnation.” Abaddon hissed as he hid behind a pillar, as he knew that he couldn’t just walk up to the council and accuse Draynar of killing Sancterus. Draynar was a master manipulator and had wit that was unparalleled within the council, and within Abaddon. It would be his word against Draynar’s, and Draynar wouldn’t be trialled right away, investigation would have to ensue, and because of Draynar’s nobility, being the son of a so called ‘Godslayer’, he would be allowed to stay in a nice resort overseeing lush grasslands. That would be the perfect chance for him to escape, and he’d know about the baby. Plus, there’s no doubt that Draynar would have had some plans for survivors. Who knew what lies he had spun? He could have pinned the blame on Abaddon himself. Abaddon had to think about the continuation of the Elrics before he thought about Draynar. That was his duty. Luckily, an idea came to Abaddon’s head. He could hide the baby. As soon as that idea entered his head, he felt a message glide across his mind. “Hide him. Hide him well. Keep him well away.” Abaddon’s eyes locked onto Zaxxarius’ innocent face. This was who Sancterus was talking about. “Is this your final wish, Overlord?” Abaddon asked, fighting back his emotions. “You want me to... hide your son from Draynar...” Abaddon thought, harder than he ever had in his life. Where would be safe from Draynar? Where could he place the baby that he would be safe, and Draynar would never even think to look for him? Then, he thought of the perfect answer. He knew where he could hide the baby. Not for a short time, but over a long period, in an area where neither Sanctum nor Draynar could touch him. During the Civil War, Voltrin found a planet called ‘Earth’. Earth was teeming with a primal species that was very similar to the Cazrians, shared out body parts and had the same look as them, only their skin was of different pigmentations, and their ears were round instead of pointy. Their compatibility to Magic was far better than any of the other races, apart from the Domini, and merging a Cazrian’s blood with theirs gave them the ability to use it fluently. They were used to win the Civil War, but they scared Voltrin, so he took them back to the portal within his vault, and then closed it. This was right before Sancterus met Katrina on earth, and brought her back through as a concubine. Nobody knows exactly what spooked Voltrin, but he deemed the Portal forbidden to be opened, and when he died, Sancterus denied Sanctum the privilege of watching over the planet. For some reason, Sancterus left the portal present, not bothering to seal it. Portals are opened through blood and ritual of an Overlord, and the baby is still radiating some sort of hereditable Overlord power. Magic comes from the blood. It could work, perhaps. Abaddon sure thought it was worth a try.
Abaddon descends into Voltrin’s vault, passing the royal guard, betraying their trust, taking the baby down below into vault. As he enters the room, Abaddon’s eyes widen at the extremely large, reinforced room filled with flamethrowers and energy powered Gatling guns. This was normally the setup for a Portal, having heavy defences on the Cazrian side, just in case the races on the other side decided to be hostile, and sometimes, they were. However, this setup was extremely odd to Abaddon. “Why would Voltrin feel the need to put the portal underground, in an area reserved for very few people?...” He asks the baby, rhetorically “What if the humans had spacecraft?” Abaddon kneels in front of the portal, examining it. “I can do this, no problem.” He sighs. He places the baby in front of the sphere, and cuts its palm. The baby wails at the pain, but Abaddon ignores it as he squeezes blood out of his palm, and wipes it over the sphere. Abaddon then begins to chant. The guards upstairs will likely not hear his chant, and it’s not often that people come to visit the vault, and there are not many with the authorization to do so. He closes his eyes, and begins to chant the verses from the Draconic Grimoire. The holy book was not long, and it was mainly about the crusades and the rules of which you must follow your life. There were no severe restrictions to acts such as sex and fertility, it was mainly about following your life with peace, not giving in to greed, living your life in honour etc. Abaddon knew that he was to be here for a while, and he closed his eyes. He began reading from the beginning, closing his eyes and imparting his magic and the baby’s magic into the Sphere. His senses begin to dim, and all he could see, hear, and touch, was the sphere and the Dragon verses. He manipulates the magic, making connections across the universe and the plains of magic. It was a lot harder than he thought to open the portal. An hour passes, and the sphere begins to radiate and open up. Abaddon’s senses begin to return and he reaches for the baby… but it was not there. Abaddon panicked, and searched around panting heavily, then, he found out where the baby was gone. He heard a low cackling from behind him. He turned around, to see a familiar face. Draynar, with his apprentice Glackan, who looked somewhat mortified and another Domini that Abaddon does not recognize. Domini had no hair, instead of hair, they had thousands of small, long tentacles that run down the back of their head and reach down towards their shoulders. Their eyes were oval, and they inherited a mixture of colours from their parents. Draynar had his father’s rare, bright purple eyes. This was believed to be a sign that he was born to rule. Domini had sharp, jagged teeth, and long, predator claws. Their skins were usually pale white, silver, or gray, and they had long, thick tails with a deadly poison within them, which they injected through the sting concealed at the end of the tail.
Draynar was usually calm, trying to be different, trying to be an example to his race. This made his betrayal most unexpected. What’s more, there was no calm look on his face anymore. He had a mad, sickening smile. He looked unstable. It was surprisingly hard for Abaddon to admit, but the boy he once called his brother-in-arms had become a part of the lost.
”Ah, Abaddon, still trying to play the hero, eh?” Draynar snickered. “Could’ve sworn I killed the lot of you in Cienka.”
”Draynar…” Abaddon hisses. He points to the baby. “Give that back.”
”That? Is that any way to treat a baby?” Draynar laughs, then holds the baby close to his face, examining him. “Who’s is it, anyway? Yours? I’d have left his head in front of you, but I get the feeling you would be hiding it for a good reason. Down here trying to open up that forbidden portal to the humans. Curious. Very curious.�
�� Draynar snorts, playing with the baby. The baby laughed and tried playing with the tentacles of Draynar’s head, completely unaware of the danger it was in. “But alas, I’d like to know. Did the old man survive? Or do I need another ploy?”
”Why did you do it, Draynar?” Abaddon asks, eyes dimming. He was doing his best to hold back his rage. “He spared you, took you in while the whole world wanted your dead and buried, next to your father. He gave you a ch-“
”Ah, ah yes, alongside my father.” He scoffs, retaining his sly smile. “And why was he slain, feared and hated? For being powerful, and having the power to do what you could not. For killing our world’s creators, and eating their hearts. For protecting his world, and the people in it!”
“You KNOW that’s not the reason he started the war!” Abaddon shouted, losing patience.
“Ahah! Awww. Now, now. Don’t start crying! Your older brother isn’t around for you to clutch at his skirts, anymore!” Draynar howled, laughing.
”We were like brothers, Sancterus was like our father. He spared your life, even though you’re the son of the Domini Scourge lord! He trained you to be strong, you represent your people and save them from genocide!” Abaddon wheezes, his emotions beginning to show. “
”Can’t say it’s all that important, who Sancterus had raised me to be. He was my captor. Now I'm free…” Draynar said, snapping out of his happy mood. “And now, I’ll get what I want.”
”Wh- What do you want?” Abaddon hisses. “What is it you’re after, revenge? Some childish attempt to bring back your father, to avenge him, WHAT?”
”Oh, it’s not like you to lose your cool, Abaddon, poor show.” Draynar chuckles in delight, while handing the baby to Glackan. “I take it from your hateful expression, that Sancterus… is dead. So who-“
”Just answer me, Damnit! Enough with your arrogant, cocky tone, tell me, what is it you want?” Abaddon snaps, seething with rage. This took him back to the old days, when he was but a teenager. Sancterus brought Draynar back with him after the invasion on Dominion. At first, Abaddon felt sorry for him, for Draynar was but a small child, whimpering and terrified at what he had seen. However, after Draynar hit puberty, and began his training, he turned different. He was untrustworthy, arrogant, and unpredictable. He had always feared Draynar to an extent... but this was beyond anything he had ever though Draynar would stomach. Draynar begins to open his mouth to answer, but the unknown Domini without the baby interrupts him. “Draynar shall give us SALVATION! He will be our god, our new god, more worthy than the pitiful dragons!” He screams, laughing manically. Draynar retains his smile, though he raises an eyebrow at the display. He then looks back at Abaddon, then back at the Domini… then he kicks him in the knee, snapping his leg. The Domini screams in pain, writhing on the floor. Draynar turns away from him as if nothing happened. “I’ll let you in on a little secret, Abaddon.” He says, approaching the kneeled Abaddon. “Godslayer’s, the pretentious name that you give to people who eat the heart of one of the three dragons, not only gain godlike powers from eating the dragon’s hearts, BUT…” He says, kneeling down to Abaddon, smile increasing and eyes arching, creating a demonic smile “They pass them on to their children.” Abaddon eyes widened. Is this how he managed all of that plotting and getting Domini on his side in secret? Because he inherited the powers of Dawn’s heart? From Adda’Gorath? Draynar smiles viciously, then grabs Abaddon by the throat. He throws him across to his right, close to the wall of the Vault. Abaddon scrambles to his feet, he has to fight him without accidentally falling into the portal, and he needs to get that baby too.
Draynar draws an Arcana, Abaddon’s Arcana! Abaddon clenches his teeth and hiss a curse at Draynar as his whole face lights up in delight. The knowledge of Arcana’s and Arcanum plasma came from the dragons, a gift to the Cazrian’s. To take up a Cazrian’s weapon against him is a severe crime, one of the most dishonourable imaginable to a Cazrian. The Covenant of Dawn branded the name ‘Kinslayer’ on the Cazrian, and although the Cazrians are a race of peace, this is one of the two crimes they give out a death penalty for, amongst Regicide. Abaddon is now defenceless, as even shields cannot really protect against Arcana. Draynar hunches in a offensive stance, then instantly leaps towards Abaddon at a violent and furious speed, igniting his Arcana mid air, and slamming it down in Abaddon’s direction. Abaddon skilfully rolls to his right, and faces Draynar’s direction, at attention, in a defensive stance. Abaddon had always bested Draynar. In Draynar’s inebriated state, this fight should be easy. Draynar laughs, mocks him and lunges his blade at him. This time Abaddon takes a quick step to his left, and grabs Draynar’s sword hand and knees him in the stomach. The blow fails to hurt him, as he toughened his skin in reaction. He head butts Abaddon, hard. The golden metal around Abaddon’s right eye ricochets his head backwards, as it does Draynar’s. Abaddon regains control of his body, takes a step back and kicks Draynar, knocking him back. At this point, Abaddon readies himself. He summons magical energy to his hands, and converts them, creating Fire. Then he casts it, fire erupting from his hands and funnelling towards Draynar, engulfing him. Abaddon stops, and watches as Draynar flails for a couple of seconds. He rolls backwards, then gets to work dousing the flames. At this point, Abaddon sees an opening, and clenches his fist, summoning energy to his hands, and punch the ground. It cracks the metal. He picks up a large shard, and then shapes it to his will, creating a sword. “The sword will be no match for blocking blows from my Arcana.” Abaddon thought, “the plasma is designed to slice through anything, even magic. I have to use it to strike at Draynar when he’s open.” Draynar’s flames are gone, and with incredible speed, he rolls and swipes at Abaddon. He’s not fast enough, it cuts his leg, severing an artery. Blood sprays on the ground, then cauterizes. Abaddon howls in pain and double back. Draynar takes a swipe at him again, this time higher on his body, going for what seems to be a kill. Abaddon dodges, again, and again, and again, but he’s in a defensive point. Draynar has him where he wants him. Abaddon miscalculated the length of the room, and comes up against the wall of the room unexpectantly. “I'm not about to let this happen. I can end a lot of suffering, here and now. I have to time this right.” He hisses, silently, eyes flaring. He dodges two more blows, and then he stops backing off. The next blow comes from the upper left, so with his left hand, he backhand punches Draynar’s sword arm wrist, reinforcing the blow with magic. Abaddon smiles, slightly, when he hears Draynar’s wrist break, and his Arcana flies across the room. Draynar clenches his teeth, and his eyes light up with fury. His arm flails off to his right due to the force, and he doubles back to evade a follow-up attacks. But it’s too late. He’s too close. Abaddon lunges forward, sword coming forward, aiming right between his big, purple eyes. The blade connects, and breaks. Draynar manages to harden his skin between his eyes, to Abaddon’s disbelief. The blade didn’t make a single dent, and hardening skin to this degree was close to impossible. The blade was sharp. Sharper than a sewing needle. Draynar had improved tenfold in a matter of days. “Oh, enough.” Draynar hisses. He ducks to the left, his tail comes up… and stabs Abaddon in the stomach. He thrusts the blade deeper, slamming Abaddon into the wall. Abaddon clutches the wound and falls to his knees. “It’s over.” Abaddon groaned. The tail has venom in it, but it’s hard to cure. Not only that, but it gives the victim an intense, searing pain that is impossible to ignore. Abaddon ends up on his hands and knees. Draynar kicks his spine hard. It doesn’t break, but now Abaddon is on his stomach. His strength sapped out from the blow.
Draynar drags him towards Glackan with the baby. He kneels on Abaddon’s back and brings up my head, and faces him towards the baby. “Glackan, kill it.” He says, smiling wickedly, eyes lighting up. Glackan takes out his knife, raises it… and hesitates. This is extremely odd for a Domini, usually violence of any kind is enough to set them off. “Err, yes, gut the damned thing?” Draynar shrugs. Glackan doesn’t move. Draynar sighs and lets Abaddon go, getting up and walking towards Glacka
n, who is now fearful for her life. “Draynar... Draynar, yo- “
”Shhh. No excuses.” Draynar hisses, almost near the baby… Abaddon’s vision begins to fade, wounds leaving him battered and bruised. He closes his eyes, hurt and close to unconsciousness, but instead of going into his Magic Pool like all mages when they go unconscious, he sees the outlines of auras within the room… However, the strongest aura he can detect in the room… comes from the baby. He sees a small, strong, bright, innocent glow. It starts to stir in the baby, energy of a sorcerer. This shouldn’t happen… Magic at this level shouldn’t be present in a child this young… Draynar doesn’t see it. Neither does Glackan. Abaddon can hear Draynar mocking and lecturing Glackan, stopping in front of her, laughing at her weakness, telling her to kill the baby. The energy starts towards Draynar, and it passes through him, and Draynar doesn’t even feel it. Abaddon eyes open, and widen in fright as he sees the magic glide towards him. He realizes that the magic is restoration magic, which is the basic, raw essence of magic within everybody’s Magic Pool. Abaddon reaches out, calling for its help, and the second he outstretches his arm, the magic seeps within his fingertips. He sees visions, hard to make out. He sees the sun, one of the original, manifesting new life… Energy heals his wounds automatically, though he’s lost a lot of blood. He’s still weak. But he can fight. His first reaction is to get the baby. Abaddon uses the magic to heal his spine, and some of his wounds, and with the remainder of the magic he converts it to Telekinesis. He reaches out with his energy and seized the knife in Glackan’s hand. Glackan shrieks, but it’s too late. Abaddon wills the knife towards him. Draynar’s between Abaddon and the knife, stuck in the crossfire, and as his reflexes are about to kick in, the knife hits him in his stomach and rips right through. His eyes widen and mouth opens from the pain and shock of the knife, and finally, his smile evaporated. He falls backwards, groaning slightly. Abaddon stands up and runs towards Glackan. Before she can react, Abaddon punches her with all his might into her stomach. Perhaps too hard, as her hand sunk through Glackan’s skin, puncturing her body. Glackan freezes and clenches her eyelids and teeth. Abaddon casually takes the baby, and pushes Glackan other, who cursed on her way down. Company is approaching, guards who have finally realized that the commotion was nothing to ignore, and will likely see Abaddon to be the traitor. Honour dictates that he does not fight his own countrymen. He’ll be expected to surrender. “I can’t” He hisses, “Not with the baby.” With that, he turns and flees, towards the portal. His body stabilizes for teleportation, magic being sucked away from him, and pulling his body and soul away from Cazria, seemingly separate. He shields the baby from the outside world. Abaddon’s body and soul turns ethereal, along with the baby’s. The world around them shimmers. Draynar’s screams die out, guards running and shouting, gasps of horror at the portal, Draynar, Glackan, the wounded, unnamed Domini. It all starts the fade. The world blackens. Faint sounds of machinery overtake the screams, and soon Abaddon is pushed furiously forward.
