by David Burke
Finally, Hav sighed. “Do you have another question or shall we seal our pact.”
“No, I have more questions. What is it you want from me?”
“Straight to the heart of the matter, then. There must be some of Krig still in there. The answer is as simple as the question.”
She paused, considering him. “I want to become the only god, or rather, I want to become the greatest god. For too long, the seas have been constrained by the land. It is time that the seas were allowed to surge across all of Verden, but the other gods won’t permit it.”
“The wounds you caused to Himmel and Jordan, as well as those to Lige, Dod, and Bedrag, have made it possible. I will rise up and rule over a world swallowed by the oceans.”
Kyle stared at her, trying to determine if she was speaking truthfully or if she was just pulling his leg. Unfortunately, it seemed that she was serious. If there had been any doubt before, it was now clear that she was insane.
“This might seem like another question, but it is integrally tied with my prior question. Why would I possibly agree with that?”
“Because I will destroy you, if you don’t.” Hav shrugged. “Because you don’t have any connection to the others. They are aware that you are back or at least that some aspect of you has returned. If I told them where you were, even Begaer would have the power to finish you, as you now are,” Hav replied.
“It sounds like you would destroy me either way. You are going to need to sweeten the pot, dear sister… Or maybe you don’t need to. Why do you need me in the first place?”
With careful attention, Kyle was able to read the unrest in Hav’s essence. It was tumultuous at all times, but it changed and became even more erratic with that question.
“That isn’t important,” the goddess waved the question away. “All you need know is that I require that you submit to me. It will be like in the old days. I will be your master. I shall teach you and protect you. In return, you shall serve me without question.”
“Those were the old days for you, but not for me. I will need time to think on this. How about we compromise? I will let Froggy join my team and follow us around so that she may be another set of eyes to make sure I am working in your interest.” He pursed his lips, as if thinking it over. “Right now, though, I assure you I only want to protect us from the void.”
“Not that again,” she groaned. “We are safe here. There may be some remnant of the Aekor you have come across, but they are nothing to worry about. It seems you also inherited some of Krig’s madness. I suppose that can’t be helped.” She paused as if lost in thought. “Very well. I shall give you until you have dealt with the undead plague to give me an answer. But don’t underestimate the necromancer.”
As soon as she finished speaking, her body dissolved like the tide and washed back out to sea.
Kyle stood up. He had been active while talking to her. He’d watched how she manipulated Sea Essence. Hopefully, that would lead him to a better understanding of how he could use it. But another portion of his mind had also been busy gathering the raw essence necessary to repair his construct of a body.
This was much more energy intensive than creating his armor. He sat down like he was preparing to meditate, but decided that before he started, that he should say something to the girls. He clapped his hands sharply together to get their attention. Two heads, one magenta and the other green snapped around to look at him with big eyes.
“I need to repair my body. Froggy, you are in, but you have to follow my orders, or the deal is off. Nyda, please watch over me.”
She jumped up and started toward him, a protest already forming on her sweet lips.
“And yes, I know you want to heal me, but I need to rebuild this construct first. If I miss any injuries, you can work on those.”
The elven beauty pouted at him, even as her cheeks stained with a blush nearly as dark as her hair.
“I think there were some other things that I was prepared to work on before we were so rudely interrupted. We still need to find time for that,” Nyda said.
It was a rather bold statement for the normally timid elven maiden, so he didn’t want the moment to slip by. “It’s a date. We will pick up where we left off at the first private moment we get. You have my word,” Kyle replied.
Then, he sat down to focus on rebuilding his construct. Even by almost destroying him, Hav had taught him much. His construct had been formed subconsciously when his soul had first migrated to Verden. Now, he would have the opportunity to rebuild it block by block, so to speak.
He couldn’t help but wonder if that had been her intention. Either way, he was going to make the most of the opportunity.
Interlude 3 - A Sight to Behold
Skylar had been lying along the beach for over two weeks. Her body had slowly healed, but her heart still ached. She could feel him. He was in the world, or at least some part of him was, but he hadn’t reached out to her. Did her suffering mean so little to him?
She remembered how the handmaidens had lusted after Krig, but complained that he was always so cold. He wasn’t, really. A strong mate was to be desired. She would have gladly laid an egg for him. Their offspring would have been glorious.
Yet, if she thought back about their interactions, he had treated her as little more than a steed. He’d never returned her playful banter. Maybe her loyalty had been misplaced? But no, he alone had been right.
None of the other gods, nor the elders of her race or those of the celestials and fiends, had foreseen the return of the void. She knew now, though, that Krig had been right all along. She hadn’t always believed, but now she did.
The void was out there and it hungered. It wanted Verden, and it had found Verden.
Then everything changed. She had drifted in and out of consciousness for weeks. Today was her first day of being fully conscious. She had been exhausted, and the sleep had been needed.
She finally felt her energy reserves returning to her. Now the next problem she would have to deal with was the gnawing hunger in the pit of her stomach. She hated to think about it, but she was so hungry she might just have to raid a farmer’s flocks.
But then hunger and all other thoughts fled her mind. She saw him. He was just walking down the beach with an elf. It couldn’t be him, though. He was walking there, hand in hand with an elf, acting like a pair of mortal lovers.
His appearance was different. Enough so that her eyes noted the changes, though she also saw the similarities. She didn’t understand why he wasn’t in his armor, though.
But while eyes could lie, her other senses didn’t. She’d have recognized that aura anywhere. She must not have sensed his approach because she had been sleeping.
Now, he was within reach. She wanted so badly to make herself known to him, but something was just… off. So, instead of rushing to him, she sat back and watched. At one point, she felt his senses brush against her, but his touch was clumsy, like a new hatchling learning how to sense the world around it. Still, she watched.
Her ears were keen enough for her to pick up their conversation even from several hundred feet away. She watched as he built a fire by hand. Then there seemed to be some kind of courting ritual he was doing with this elf.
Unlike some of her kin, she had never seen the appeal of mating with elves, even if this one was undeniably attractive.
Then, things got strange. She watched as they were confronted by one of Hav’s servants. He had things well in hand, though. He wouldn’t be the war god if he didn’t. Then, the unthinkable happened as she witnessed his fight with Hav. Before this moment, she would have said that Krig could never be defeated by one of the other gods, not in battle.
Skylar was coming to understand though, that while this was Krig in one sense, it was most definitely not the war god she had none—more than likely some kind of a reincarnation. She had heard about celestials and fiends undergoing such a process, but never a god.
Per
haps the battle with the other gods had gone worse than she expected for Krig? Strangely, that made her feel better. He hadn’t abandoned her; He had been just as injured as she and only now was beginning to regain his strength. It didn’t explain the odd mating ritual with the elf, but it was a shred of hope—something for her to cling to.
She watched then, breathlessly, as Hav overwhelmed him. But a grin with teeth the length of a man’s forearm flashed as she watched him outmaneuver the sea goddess. Hav had wanted something from him, but Krig kept it from her.
Maybe she shouldn’t call him Krig anymore. He seemed to be going by a new name. She had heard the elf call him by it several times… Oh yes, Kyle, that was the name he was now going by.
When Hav finally departed, Skylar watched him meditate and cultivate as she had seen Krig do so many times. His power was not as grand, but she was shocked when she realized he was cultivating more than just War Essence. All of the raw essence he absorbed into himself he split into War, Death, Justice, Earth, and Sky Essence. He even did weird things with the raw essence, almost as though he could access something that was just beyond her sight.
Skyla contemplated making herself known to him. But she decided she would wait. She had a stomach to fill first, and then she would find a time to approach him when he was alone. She wanted explanations. She wanted her master back. She wanted… well, she wanted a great deal more than she’d dared let herself hope for after watching him with the elf.
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Nalor looked out at the horde he had created. His skill with death essence had always been the greatest of his magics. Because of his negligible affinity for any other type of essence, the mage academies of Calrissi had rejected him.
At every turn, he was told he should serve in Dod’s temple. But he didn’t want to serve. He wanted to lead.
He understood death but saw it as a flaw. He intended to use Death Essence as a path to seek immortality. For decades, he’d studied and sought a means to gain his heart’s desire.
He found and then discarded the path of the lich. He didn’t want to become a walking set of bones. Liches were powerful, of that there was no doubt, but their power was fixed at the moment of their undeath. They could no longer change or grow.
That wasn’t want he wanted, so he kept looking. Then the cataclysm happened. The world was turned upside down, but opportunities abounded for those who were willing to find opportunity in disaster.
Nalor was willing. He found himself drawn to a particular dungeon. All of his wealth was spent hiring adventurers to escort him on a treasure hunt. And the hunt went better than even he had expected.
They’d found jewels and gold in the ancient glytharen ruins, along with a plethora of enchanted items. More importantly, buried in a pile of treasure, they found a tiny chip of absolute blackness. It didn’t look like much of anything, though, certainly not a true gem.
It was a sliver, no… a splinter of darkness.
When the adventurers betrayed him, they beat him black and blue. He had exhausted his power helping them slay the monsters of the dungeon and was all but helpless before them. Cold steel didn't require any essence to be dangerous. He’d tried clinging to some of the magical artifacts, but they kicked him away from the treasure.
The only thing he’d managed to hold on to was the tiny sliver of shadow. He could feel the Death Essence in it but didn’t know how to tap into it. When the leader of the adventurers, a real brute of a man, tried to take it from him, Nalor had begged them not to take the tiny scrap from him.
He pleaded to be allowed to keep at least that one thing.
Then, thinking it was funny, the adventurers told him if he wanted it so much, he could choke on it. As he was force fed the splinter, Nalor felt himself grow cold. He finally knew betrayal and realized this represented an end to all his dreams.
He would never claim life immortal—he was going to be sent to Dod’s realm without having achieved his life’s goal. In that moment, he connected more closely with Death Essence than he ever had before. That connection spawned a link to the divine splinter which had been shoved down his throat.
The divine splinter had been cast down to the mortal realm when Krig had shattered Dod’s scythe, but Nalor didn’t know that. All he knew, was that he now felt power like he’d never experienced before. His mastery of Death Essence, combined with new access to raw essence, brought him to his feet.
Shadowy spears had brought low all the adventurers, except for their leader. The brute had tried to run in terror, but Nalor now had what felt like a boundless supply of death essence. A quick death was too good for the architect of his betrayal. So instead of a quick death, he drained the life painfully slowly from the warrior.
Decay ate away at the man’s flesh, and then his bones. His muscles shriveled up, and through it all, Nalor learned. He dragged the process out for hours and then for days. All the while, the treacherous adventurer screamed in agony.
But Nalor was captivated by the beauty of death. Death was going to be the answer to his quest for immortality. More than that, it was going to be the answer to his need for power, enough power to wreak his vengeance on a city that had turned its back on him.
He’d learned a dark secret—as he used Death Essence to drain the very life out of his victim, it released another flow of power. Nalor couldn’t control that other power. It was a sickly greenish shade, but seemed to be only raw essence to him. It was beyond him and yet, he saw how death released it. So, in turn, he absorbed it.
He had always been a weak man, trying to get by on his intellect and magical aptitude. Now, his body became stronger. He had to have more of it.
Now, two years later, he stood in the wilds outside Nargossa with any army of undead. Dod’s kingdom must be fractured, he realized, and so he declared himself the Lord of Death. But he knew his power wasn’t great enough to challenge Calrissi.
The mages of Calrissi were famed for their power, and the Shadow Empress—she who ruled as the queen of Calrissi—was the most gifted human mage in the kingdom’s history. It was rumored that she had reached the Spirit Tier with at least Death and Earth Essences, but she was also quite talented with Sky and Deceit Essence, a true prodigy.
It wasn’t until a few weeks ago when the shadow had appeared to him that Nalor knew the time was right. The shadow whispered in his ears secrets of power. It told him of another dark splinter, just like the one he had ingested. It promised to serve him and gave him the tools to raise up this grand army of undead that marched to his command.
No longer was he limited to just a few hundred zombies and skeletons. No, it showed him how to create ghosts, bone storms, ghouls, vampires, liches, and more. It taught him how to strike a bargain with the Aekor and their minions. Together with his new allies, his army was ready.
They had scoured the countryside. Soon, they would attack Calrissi en masse. For only one thing were they waiting. Soon, the other splinter would be delivered to him.
Then… then would he become a veritable god of death.
Chapter 19 - Next Steps
Kyle’s tension grew throughout the night. They’d slept on the beach, which should have been more relaxing than it was. Or rather, Nyda and their new guest slept while Kyle lay there wide awake, the pretty elf curled up in his arms.
Even when they woke up in the morning, he couldn’t shake the memory from last night. So much so that he wanted to hurry back. He picked up both girls and carried them curled up into his chest as he ran as fast as he could back to Nargossa. Feeling Nyda pressed up against him was causing his frustration to rise, amongst other things.
Added to that, was the irritation he felt at having been forced to take the amphibian with them. She wouldn’t stop talking, although at least she had embraced the nickname he’d given her. He gave in and decided it was better to get information from her than just to try to ignore her. Who knew what he might learn about Hav?
Thus, he had tried to make the run productive. That was the nice thing about being able to sprint faster than a horse and still have enough air in his lungs to carry on a discussion.
“So, wait… you aren’t a real creature?” Kyle asked in response to the odd statement she’d just made.
“Now that is just offensive. Of course, I’m real!” Froggy protested. “I just said that my Mistress made me.”
“So… there isn’t a race of frog people out there somewhere?”
Nyda tried to explain it to him. “No. She is like Kierra in that sense. She is a combination of human and monster, forced together into something new by someone with a great deal of power. In the case of the lycans, it happened because of the archfiend who rules over them. At least that is what I learned from Kierra.”