by Paul Sobol
“Why have I been brought here?”
“You have something I need,” said Marduk straightforward, “and you will part with it whether you wish to or not.” He motioned for two guards to enter.
Knowing resistance to be futile, Darias allowed himself to be restrained and half dragged/half escorted from the room. Down several flights of stairs they ended up in a circular room that appeared to be some kind of laboratory. Tables laden with alchemical instruments and vials of unknown ingredients lined one side of the room, while along the other were several bookshelves holding tomes and scrolls. However, the real cause for Darias’ concern was the empty space in the middle of the room. On the floor, a large eight-pointed star contained within a circle of white sand was inscribed in what looked like blood.
This was death magic on a grand scale, reserved for only the most callous of blasphemers who rely upon summoning demons to do their wickedness. Rage threatened to overwhelm Darias, who wanted nothing more than to fight these degenerate light magicians and serve them up as feast for their own fiendish minions.
Sensing the sudden shift in their captive’s demeanour the guards tightened their hold, until a harsh outcry from Darias warned they might have used too much force. Varras, observing this exchange from the corner of the room motioned for the guards to place the dark mage inside the circle. Once released from the vice-like grips Darias swiftly turned on his would-be captors, but an invisible force prevented him from taking even a single step.
Cursing all light magicians, the immovable Darias turned his attention on the single figure slowly walking around the circle. “I’ve read the histories, the forgotten Lore; unbelievable stories about the most powerful magician to exist. I know who and what you are. They call you Shadowmage. Hiding behind a mask of neutrality, you’ve served the Light and Dark in the past, but here you are, a traitor and usurper. You betrayed our Master, who once was your best friend, forsaking the path of righteousness for the lure of power. You stole our most sacred artefact, just to further your own selfish goal of domination.”
“What you say is true,” admitted Marduk softly, no longer pacing. “It is, however, a matter of perspective. Everything I am, everything I have done, has been for a sole purpose – maintaining Balance. As for traitor…I hold no allegiance, nor favour one side over the other. Your Master, who has appointed himself General no less, was indeed a good friend of mine, until he became possessed.”
Seeing the look of naked surprise clearly upon the dark mage’s face revealed everything to Marduk. He continued, “I believe a Demon Lord, named Zareth, has taken control over him. The demon within almost destroyed everything had I not taken the Book and hidden it.” Darias remained stubbornly silent.
Conflicted, he didn’t want to believe anything said against his Master. “There is no way I can believe what you say is true. He said the exact same thing about you though.”
“Of course he did,” replied Marduk. “But if I were demon in disguise, and in possession of the Book, then why have I not destroyed this world by unleashing my hordes?”
Darias considered this for a moment. The logic appeared sound, and yet it goes against everything he had been led to believe. “Then what do you need me for?”
“I require a source of dark mana, which you can provide.”
“But you’re the Shadowmage; servant of Light and Dark. You should have access to plenty of negative energy.”
Marduk nodded, acknowledging the truth of what the dark mage had just said. “Unfortunately I am cut off from that side of my power. Zareth has done a magnificent job of isolating us from any source of mana, hence why it became necessary to capture a dark magician. It’s nothing personal; you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Realising any further attempt at stalling for time was useless, Darias began to panic. Sensing his demise swiftly approaching, the dark mage sought to bargain for his life. “My Lord, perhaps we could come to an agreement. Spare my life and I can give you as much dark mana you require. I can be of great use to you. I have vital information, just don’t kill me please.”
Lord Marduk turned away from the captive; hands locked casually behind his back, and looked out the window in deep thought. What the dark mage said made sense, he considered. There really was no need to kill the man, although he could never be trusted, and as for having crucial war information Marduk was sceptical. This magician was not highly placed within the enemy ranks, which is why it was so easy to capture him. Sighing, the man known as the Shadowmage came to an inner agreement, and knew what must be done. About to turn from the window he noticed a commotion in the waters to the south of the newly islanded Keep.
The bloody water was no longer churning with feeding sharks and other marine carnivores, but rather it was calm and filled with grisly pieces of human remains. The gulls now took over, pecking and rendering the bobbing pieces of flesh, perched precariously on debris from the recently destroyed blockade fleet. The ships had been devastated by the frenzied sharks, some of which measured up to fifty feet long. The deep water behemoths, megalodons, were difficult to summon, and just as hard to control, but they certainly made a great mess of the blockade ships and would be returned unscathed to their natural habitats.
Already he knew boats were being readied to sail. Several smaller groups of magicians would try penetrating the barrier now that the blockade had been successfully destroyed. Once on the other side they may even be able to bring the barrier down, but Marduk had his doubts. The enchantment’s control point, located deep in the enemy camp where it was first created, was probably within Zareth’s easy reach. Now, there was work to be done.
Turning around, Marduk considered the dark magician before him. Naked fear shone from the captive’s eyes, believing this was to be his end. The ritual designed to drain a victim of energy was technically considered Dark magic, but only if the intended target died. Darias would live, but due to the nature of the draining spell he would never touch mana again. He would be completely human. It was then his decision whether to live or not, but most magicians who lose their power generally kill themselves because the ever-present magic was such a large part of their life.
Beginning the ritual incantation, the Shadowmage paced slowly around the circle, and at each point of the star made a series of hand gestures. At these points a small coloured flame appeared hovering several inches above the floor. Black, red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, white. Once the last mystical flame ignited the incantation grew in volume and tempo, until Marduk’s voice became so loud it seemed to take on physical form, reverberating around the circular chamber as echoes. Commander Varras, standing motionless to one side, could have sworn there were a hundred people shouting the incantation within the small confines, and had it not been for a small shield of protection he would probably have been deafened.
Quickly approaching the climax of the spell, the coloured flames swelled in size until suddenly they burst, sending sparkling energies swirling around inside the circle. Darias cried out, but his meagre voice was overwhelmed by the incantation that raged like a storm within the room. A single thunderous peal drowned out the last spoken words, lingering on the air for several moments as the spell was completed. The silence that followed was eerie, as though it was somehow unnatural for there not to be any noise. Within the circle, the multi-coloured motes of energy gently drifted around, like snow-flakes on a windless day. The fury they had exhibited moments before now seemed so at odds with their leisurely meandering, as though with the spells completion they had become satiated and compliant.
In the middle of the eight-pointed star Darias remained, unconscious and suspected above the ground as though weightless. Commander Varras opened the door and motioned for the waiting guards to enter. A few words were exchanged, and with a nod the guards acknowledged their orders. Hesitating just outside the circle, the two burly soldiers glanced at the magician standing on the opposite side with his eyes closed, and then back towards Commander V
arras. He gave a short nod as though saying it was alright to enter the enchanted space.
Each sent a quick mental prayer to the God of Luck before crossing the magical threshold, and once it became obvious nothing terrible was to befall them the two relaxed. Reaching up they grabbed the unconscious form of Darias, who fell limply into their awaiting arms. Not worrying if the dark mage’s dragging feet destroyed any of the spell’s lines the two guards carried their prisoner back to his anti-magical room. Despite no longer having access to his power the room would serve as a temporary cell for Darias.
Alone in his tower room, Marduk mentally reached into the cloud of lazily moving energies. Each glowing point left an impression on his consciousness, like a warm comforting feeling or treasured memory. Unbidden, a memory suddenly surfaced from his long-forgotten past as a child, well before inheriting the mantle of power and responsibility that came with being The Shadowmage.
For a brief moment Marduk was transported back to his home world, and he remembered a particular time in his tenth year. Surrounded by loving family he looked upon the faces of his mother and father who were smiling down at him. It had felt like several lifetimes since he had last seen them, and in truth it actually had been a few thousand years, and he was overcome by a welling sadness. Even though magicians lived a long time, Marduk knew this to be no excuse to forget those who meant so much. But so much had happened since those carefree times, but dwelling on them now would serve no purpose.
Stepping into the middle of the enchantment, Shadowmage closed his eyes in concentration. Psychically he reached deep within and began channelling his last reserves of mana, while at the same time drawing on the surrounding swirling energies. Overflowing with the power of life, Marduk felt his consciousness expand and rise high above the earth. The stars surrounding him shone brightly as they imperceptivity moved around the galaxy, and with a thought he soared like a bird amongst the spheres of light and between glowing nebulae.
Like a god he strode around the cosmos free and without concern. He even brushed against the consciousness of other higher beings, but most of these shunned his intrusive presence and hid behind powerful barriers of their own. For the briefest of moments Marduk felt like ripping down those walls and showing those hiding there was nothing to be afraid of, but looking through their perspective he would appear threatening and destructive. Certainly not the first impression to make on a cosmic scale, he thought.
Remembering he had important work to complete Marduk returned to the local space surrounding a small blue and green planet studded with white clouds. Employing every shred of power at his command he sent forth his Will and began fashioning the final strands of his galactic energy network. Hopefully he would have enough time to complete the construction before the enemy forces regrouped and decided to make one final push against the castle. If they did he would regretfully have to abandon his work and deal with the threat once and for all.
Strand after strand of energy was fashioned into a metaphysical bridge for mana to be channelled to one point from dozens, even hundreds, of surrounding stars. Their collective mana would make the user of the network powerful beyond imagining, and for that reason Marduk had created a genetic lock and key system, so the massive spell could only be activated by him and his progeny.
Something shook the castle, and knowing the attack had begun Marduk hurried to finish his cosmic enchantment. With only a few more bridges to construct he would only have to connect them all to the final terminus; a point somewhere in space that he alone would know where to look and be able to siphon the universe’s star-bound mana. Within a few relative moments he was finished, but before he could access the network he was viciously snapped back to the tower room. Where bookshelves had been, now a large smouldering hole in the wall remained as testament to how close he had come to being killed.
Through the newly created hole in the tower wall, Marduk could see the enemy forces arranged on the distant beachfront. The front ranks composed mostly of newly conscripted dark magicians, who levitated boulders out of the ground and sent them soaring across the water to strike the Keep’s towers. The improvised projectiles were also set alight with dark enchantments, making them doubly as lethal.
Hastily strengthened protective shields rippled as physical and mystical energy was being dispersed, but it was obvious the defenders could not withstand the onslaught indefinitely. Every time the shields were replenished they were weaker, a blaringly obvious testament the Keep’s magicians no longer had sufficient mana. On the castle walls the display of magical energies interacting with the shield was amazingly beautiful, yet the seriousness of the moment was not lost to those trying to maintain the shields. For every four magicians channelling mana into the shield there was one casting offensive spells, but unfortunately those in the castle were outnumbered two to one, and those staged on the beach easily fended off the random attacks.
Even as Marduk watched, a boulder wreathed in blue fire broke through the shield and hurtled towards the castle to explode in flame and lethal debris. It was only a matter of time until the shield shattered and failed completely, which meant the castle would have to be abandoned quickly, or those inside would die trying to defend it. Neither option was acceptable. Marduk realised the only way to end the war was to remove that which the enemy most desperately sought. Reaching out with his Will, Marduk, known as the Shadowmage, mentally activated the mana-streaming network and began drawing pure universal energy.
Chapter Fifteen
General Zedekiah smiled to himself.
The attack was organised and progressing as planned, albeit hastily improvised. The castle’s defences were weakening, on the brink of collapse, and the surest way to achieve victory was to strike with full force. Reserves had been magically transported from around the world, swelling the decimated army once again to several thousands, but rather than relying on foot soldiers Zedekiah now had enough dark mages under his control to overcome the enemy forces.
With the defenders about to be overwhelmed the castle would soon be his, and looking over the ranks of his minions he couldn’t help but savour the taste of imminent victory. Spells bombarded the castle’s shields while huge boulders smashed against fortifications, crushing soldiers and magicians by the score. It was only a matter of time. The next phase was to neutralise the remaining magicians inside, storm the castle and take possession of the ultimate prize: the Book of Omnietas.
Not one to usually believe in old legends, but Zedekiah was old enough to see history turned into myth and then forgotten, lost to the ages. The Book of Omnietas was the single greatest artefact, existing even before the time of Creation, and whose pages held unlimited power. Whoever reads from its pages will have control over everything; able to create, alter, and ultimately destroy.
From ancient scrolls and tomes, uncovered amidst ruins of civilizations perished millions of years ago, a legend was pieced together. Prior to Creation, a powerful Entity wandering the Void discovered the Book, and having read from the pages within created the Cosmos. Looking upon its creation, the Entity felt something unknown: curiosity. Deciding to read from the Book once more, universes exploded into existence, filling the Cosmos with energy and matter. Unsure what to do with this creation, the Entity returned to the Void and continued wandering.
Having left the Book behind, it was later discovered by one of the first races, who utilised the knowledge within to further their technological, biological and spiritual advancement. Eventually the people had such a profound understanding of the universe and its mechanics they no longer required to exist as physical beings. Embracing ascension, the majority of the people transformed into energy, eventually leaving their world and materialism behind.
The newly ascended race looked upon the evolving universe, and even though they were meant to disregard emotions, they nonetheless felt saddened that many of the first races ceased to exist. War, fuelled by greed or necessity, wiped out many of the inferior races, leaving only the strong
to survive. Many of these were brutal, amoral species that sought advancement through conquest. Many of the ascended were determined to show the lesser races how they too could live peacefully, ultimately achieving ascension if they desired, but this only caused more problems. Several of the more powerful races sought technological means of stealing the knowledge and power of the First who, feeling threatened, retreated to the relative safety of a higher plane which they created for themselves. The division amongst the First was mended, deciding as a whole to never interfere with the lower races.
However, one of the First remained behind.
His original name is unknown, lost in the mists of time, but eventually he took the moniker Shadowmage. Deciding to remain mortal, this lone magician became custodian of the Book of Omnietas and kept it from falling into the wrong hands. Millennia passed and his power and status throughout the universe became legendary, and he forged a lasting peace between the warring races. But nothing endures forever, and inevitably the engines of war were reignited and mighty forces clashed in epic battles on land, sea and in space. Magic and technology became the tools for destruction. The Shadowmage attempted to maintain order, but despite his every effort the universe was again torn asunder by war.
Realising the futility of his plight, the most powerful magician isolated himself from the trouble. Years later, when he believed the races surely must have destroyed each other, he emerged from hiding, only to discover the worlds at peace once more. For millions of years he lived, travelling around the universe, until one day he was gifted with a life-altering epiphany: the Universe requires balance.
Understanding this simple concept, the Shadowmage dedicated his life to maintaining the balance between good and evil, light and dark. At first this seemed an impossible task, and for a long time his actions threw the universe into further disarray, even reaching such disastrous proportion that threatened to unravel the very fabric of existence. Seeing no other way to restore Balance, he selflessly sacrificed himself for the greater good. With the forces of dark and light no longer in a state of extreme flux the universe slowly returned to normal.
