He was losing control of the subjugated planets, and he was unsure how and when Alac would be found. If he were found by the forces of good, he was not sure how that reappearance would affect him.
The first thing Górgometh did upon returning to the Palace of the Kings in Eorta was to eat five soldiers alive, then seize a random citizen and tear his guts out as if they were threads after which, he left the body exposed to half the city. After this act of cruelty, the much-feared beast flew off and vanished in the wind.
The lord of the shadows entered the palace. “Malakai,” he called.
Out of nowhere, a shadow manifested itself with a trail of darkness behind it. Mórgomiel’s sorcerer bowed his head, invisible thanks to the thick cloak that covered his loathsome body.
“At your command, my lord,” said the dark sorcerer.
“I want to know where the God of Light is. I want to know how they are going to find him.”
Malakai bent his head and said, “It is a group made up of an elf, a leiwas, a Naevas Aedán, and a human.”
“Leiwas. You use the ancient name of the Wild Men. Don’t call them that. I don’t like it. Who is this human? Do you know? The elves. They’re coming back to the universe. After thousands of years of hiding, they finally decide to show their faces. Cowards.”
“I do not know, your lordship.”
The lord sat down on his throne. “No matter. I need to know the progress of that useless group who are trying to rescue Alac at all times. They cannot find him without my knowing.”
“We could step in right now and force them to reveal the fallen god’s location,” Malakai suggested. “If we step in now, we could also find out the identity of the human. We could torture the elf until he gave us the secret of how to reach Allündel and then we could destroy those disgusting elves once and for all.”
“It’s a stupid plan, Malakai. I like the way your thoughts are going and the fact that you like to destroy our enemies, but I thought that putting the Oracle in your soul would help you give me sensible advice. The last thing we ought to do is intervene, serf. Think about it for two seconds and you’ll see that stepping in isn’t wise. Or perhaps you are deceiving me, and I should torture you for all eternity.”
Malakai bowed his head. “My apologies, milord. It was a premature conclusion.”
The humans have surprised you again, haven’t they? Argbralius thought.
Yes, they have, replied the God of Chaos.
The best way to motivate a human is to create obstacles in his way, Argbralius suggested. But you shouldn’t create impossible ones. The resistance you impose on them should make them think that we want to prevent them from finding Alac. Then they’ll fight more vigorously.
Mórgomiel considered the human’s words. They were cruel, malicious, and very accurate.
Then what do you suggest we do? he asked.
Let them advance and let our demons try to stop them. You can’t be too soft with them, because they might suspect we’re leading them into a trap. The opposition must be felt naturally. We should infiltrate one of our own into their group and that way, we’ll know where Alac is when they find him.
You are proving yourself useful, Mórgomiel said inwardly.
Finally, you dare use my advice, Argbralius thought. What better than a human mind for understanding a human?
“Serf,” he commanded Malakai. “You are going to send a spy to inform me at all times of the location of the group trying to rescue Alac.”
“It shall be done, my lord. A spy will be sent.” Malakai bowed his head. “Milord, I have news from Kanumorsus.”
“Tell me. What have you seen?”
“The humans have begun to gather. Several empires have united to form a massive army. With it came the defeat of Árath. My spies have told me that an Interworld Committee and Assembly have been formed. Their plans, milord, are to lay siege to Kanumorsus. The very world you conquered thousands of years ago, where you created the portals for the conquest of the universe.”
“Lay siege? To one of my worlds? And the one I created to conquer the universe? How pathetic!”
“So it is, my lord. The humans plan to gather several armies from other worlds to besiege Kanumorsus and attract your attention. Their purpose is to distract us, milord.”
“What for?”
“To delay the inevitable invasion of the universe. They plan to speed the coming of the Times of Chaos. They know that Kanumorsus is vital for your strategy, milord. They know that you need the world to transfer armies to their strategic positions throughout the cosmos. With Kanumorsus occupied and under siege, we have no option but to fight against them. ‘Divesting us of our holdings’ is what they call it, according to my report.”
“Excellent work, Malakai.”
They want to distract you so that you don’t pay any attention to the group planning to rescue Alac, Argbralius thought.
“They wish to distract us so that they can rescue Alac,” Mórgomiel said, echoing the human soul within him. “It’s a good strategy. These humans must have excellent leaders in Kanumorsus and the world they call the Meridian. I want to know who’s in charge of convincing other worlds to oppose the shadows. Perhaps I should have been more aggressive and conquered more planets. They must have someone helping them to choose the worlds I didn’t succeed in disrupting.”
“This person who has devoted himself to searching for planets opposed to you, milord, is a Wild Man named Balthazar, a powerful shaman who has been chosen by Her to be her vassal. He is very powerful.”
“Those damned humans and their pathetic plans. Their stupidity is their salvation.”
“What do you mean, milord?”
“That they don’t understand that opposing me is stupid,” Mórgomiel said. “Now then, we need to intercept this Balthazar and eliminate him. By doing that we’ll prevent the humans from making more alliances with other worlds.”
“It’s a brilliant plan, milord.”
“Humans act under the supposition that I’ll try to deal with them as soon as possible and I’ll unleash my fury against them. They are partly right. I need to eliminate them so that they don’t impede the mobilization of my armies.”
The humans in the Meridian aren’t expecting us to attack all at once, Argbralius thought. Sending ten thousand soldiers will be enough to tilt the balance of their plan and create a little chaos. What better than to cause them instability? I have a plan to manage it. The human within his soul had supplied him with that plan.
It’s a brilliant idea, human. You’re some use after all.
We’re one, God of Chaos, Argbralius thought. Never forget that again.
“Prepare one division of the army,” Mórgomiel ordered.
“It will be done, milord.”
“After you’ve got the division ready, Malakai,” Mórgomiel continued. “You’ll deal with Balthazar. Don’t fail me! I want Balthazar dead—eliminated. Without him, the humans have no hope. He is the spearhead of the humans’ advance. So we’ll cut the head off the military body. We’ll make them suffer. They’ll pay for their stupidity.”
“So be it, milord,” the sorcerer said. Without another word, the dark figure vanished to carry out his orders.
“We’re going to create chaos.”
We’re going to generate extreme violence, Argbralius thought.
The God of Chaos smiled to himself.
Chapter XXV — Chimera
When Balthazar left Allündel behind, he realized how exhausted he was. He should have stayed in the land of the elves to rest for some Sands and recover. I can’t stop. There’s too much to do, the Wild Man told himself again and again. Mérdmerén must be told to look for Nordost. But how on earth are we going to find the dragon if nobody knows where to start?
A tremendous silence came over him, a feeling of unease he was unable to shake off. He needed food, water, and rest, although sometimes because he was a powerful shaman he forgot to eat.
I’ve only convin
ced ten worlds out of a hundred to join our efforts, he mourned. This doesn’t look good. We can’t fight against a hundred thousand million if all we have are ten worlds. No, I must get hold of more! I can’t let myself be overcome by hunger or thirst! The universe will perish if I don’t hurry!
Of the hundred worlds Balthazar had visited, some had already been disrupted by evil. He hoped that this world he was now setting foot on had not been touched by the shadows.
The planet he was visiting was called Néssanim. In his mind, he went over the speech he would give the leaders of the dominant culture of this world. His strategy so far had been to start talking about the Times of Chaos to cause terror and agony and usually, the fear of chaos convinced people faster than any other speech.
It was nighttime, although to say night was an error in a place like that where the planet orbited around five suns, each one a different color. The day was magenta, the same as the sun at its zenith in the sky.
Under the cloak and hood that covered his body, he wore his wyvern armor. After walking for what seemed to him like hours, he arrived at a place where there were fields planted with some crop. To his surprise, he did not see anyone working in the fields. He found it strange, although perhaps they were asleep. His experience on other planets before had been different, where it had been normal to see living beings carrying out some task or other. There were houses made of mud. They were all empty.
After visiting a hundred worlds he had concluded that there were certainly parallels between cultures. All, except for one or two, like the crystals of Crallys, were organized in the form of a large population, where a leader ruled and the rest were subjects of this leader. Hence, there was a castle or central fortress and around it, there flourished a city where most of the people lived. There had to be something in the material everything was made of, or perhaps in the souls which occupied a material body, which drove them to join in that kind of organization. And this world he was now in was no exception.
After passing the fields of crops, he went into what seemed to be a city. The metropolis was made of stone, very similar to other cities and their houses, where the aim was to obtain not just shelter but mutual protection. To his surprise, the city too was empty. Uninhabited. What on earth had happened?
In one world he had visited, he remembered, all the beings were in one of the temples praying to Galachán—Gordbaklala in their religion. In another, he had found that the beings had abandoned their world and the mystery of how they had done it still eluded his understanding.
This is a waste of time, he told himself. I can’t have visited a hundred worlds and only ten of them have had the courtesy to listen to me and the sense to consider whether to join the effort to stop Mórgomiel or not. Why is it so hard for some cultures to understand that the Times of Chaos will consume us all?
Pause.
Traces of red blood. What the…?
He felt a sudden unease. His thoughts quieted and instantly, he prepared himself for battle. He concentrated a powerful spell in his mind, ready to release it in case he should have to defend himself against some creature with the ability to manipulate the Black Arts.
He followed the blood, noticing that it led him to what, judging by its architecture, looked like a temple. It was made of translucent crystal and sculptures of different gods rose from its towers. The marks of the vital liquid grew clearer as he advanced.
That structure the river of blood was leading him to was a beautiful thing. It seemed to float over a mysterious bed of mist while a long bridge of the same crystal was leading him into the temple.
The building was tall and slender, presumably containing several separate spaces where the faithful of this culture could worship their gods.
When he finally entered after crossing the bridge, his internal alarms started ringing. This was a horror, a nightmare.
His eyes hurt at the sight of what had been the population of this empire: brutally murdered, piled in a mountain hundreds of meters tall. The corpses were beyond number. At the very top was the head of the one he guessed had been the king or queen. At his feet, Balthazar saw the swords and shields of those who had died: thousands of weapons, all compressed as if a terrible force had melted them to create that monument. This had been done to send a message which was both clear and macabre.
Balthazar shivered. This message was for nobody else but him. This did not look good. It meant that someone was on to him and had set a trap for him and he had fallen into it.
“Show yourself, you scum!” was all the Wild Man could say. There was no need to take out his ax. He shed his dark cloak, revealing his muscular body. The tattoo on the left of his chest ran down to his arm, invigorated with blue energy.
Out of nothing, a whirlwind of shadows began to form. He waited impatiently to see what kind of demon Mórgomiel had sent to cut off his way. When the demon solidified from the shadows, he saw a being in a dark cloak enfolded in spirals of smoke with two red dots where its eyes should be. What kind of a demon was this?
“I am Malakai, the powerful dark sorcerer in Mórgomiel’s service. He is the future and indisputable leader of the universe. Don’t resist, Balthazar. Fighting against Mórgomiel’s essence is futile and you know that very well. In my soul I carry Mórgomiel’s armbands, I possess part of his essence, so I am more powerful than you. You know that. The Times of Chaos have taken on a new impulse and there is nothing you can do to stop them,” the demon’s voice hissed. “You will never help the humans of the Meridian again. Today, you’ll be reduced to the skeleton you deserve to be.”
Balthazar realized that the sorcerer was beginning a spell with the Black Arts. His cadaver’s hands came out of the folds of the cloak and between them, a spiral of shadows was gathering intensely together.
Balthazar hesitated for a second. He doubted for the first time. I can’t die in this fight, he told himself, setting his jaw and clenching his fists. First, I have to make sure that Mérdmerén finds Nordost. I’ve got to manage that!
Malakai’s power was greater than his own, he knew. He was cornered and to get out of this mess, he had to be both cunning and swift if he were to avoid death today.
“Take this!” Balthazar struck first. A sphere of luminous energy flew at great speed toward the dark sorcerer, his left side shining with blue, iridescent energy.
Malakai countered the spell with agility unheard of in a skeleton. Balthazar struck again so as not to allow his enemy any breathing space and unleashed another attack with double the energy. Instead of a sphere of energy, a tangle of roots like the tentacles of a giant squid emerged from the ground and enveloped Malakai in huge roots, leaving him trapped. Balthazar ran to his enemy to cut off his head while he was weakened.
“You’ll never go back to the world of the living,” Balthazar shouted as he ran. “The Goddess of Night is dead and so you’ll stay trapped in the Interim!”
The dark sorcerer made no move to resist, despite being trapped among the roots. The Wild Man conjured energy from his arm so that his ax gained fire and radiant energy, becoming a lethal weapon for demons of any kind regardless of their power. It was a sacred weapon. He raised it and brought it down with all his might to give the final blow but he was repelled by a shock of black energy the moment the blade made contact with the dark sorcerer’s body.
Balthazar howled with pain. The ax shattered and a whip of black energy wrapped itself around the Wild Man’s arm. He fell to his knees, clutching his arm as he saw it melt before his eyes. Black, caustic smoke billowed from his flesh as the black energy entered his bloodstream.
“I told you, I am too powerful for you,” Malakai hissed as he freed himself from the roots. “You must give up and the end will be less painful.”
The pain kept Balthazar lying there. He stared at his left hand in horror, seeing his bones and his tattoo seeming to pump the poison of the dark matter to his heart, his soul, the rest of his body. This was the end and he knew it.
“Go on panting
, I like it,” the dark sorcerer said. “Here is your cure.” From his hands there shot a stream of shadows that began to fill the space of the black smoke.
Balthazar could not help breathing the toxic smoke, feeling his heart pumping the poison throughout his body. His mind was turning delirious, and he began to experience hell while he was still alive. His eyes began to bleed and a thick green substance came out of his ears that was part of the poison Malakai had infused into him. Thus he would die, drowned in smoke and mutilated by a demon. He might not come out alive from this encounter but he might still be able to do something drastic, daring, and inconceivable…
He got to his feet with difficulty, the flesh of his body melting away in folds that fell from his frame. His eyes, which before had been like sapphires, now shone the color of rubies because of the poison in his soul. If he did not manage to hurry, he would become a wraith, cursed to wander the Interim for all eternity.
“That is right, Wild Man. The poison runs freely through your veins, and now your soul will belong to Mórgomiel. You will return to Kanumorsus and you will be our spy. You will keep us up to—”
Malakai had not foreseen what Balthazar had just done. Defenseless, he was left paralyzed, unable to believe that the Wild Man had turned himself into a blue arrow and plunged himself into his guts. How had he done it? It looked as though he had underestimated the shaman, and now Balthazar was inside of him!
The dark sorcerer shed his cloak, exposing his skeletal body to the air. Inside himself, he realized, he was beginning to emanate a blue power.
“No! No! Get out! Nooooo!” Malakai could do nothing about it. From within him, Balthazar’s blue energy was combining irresistibly with the darkness of his putrid soul. The change was inevitable, the effect would be permanent, but it was the only way to survive.
A spiral of violet energy began to surround the skull that was Malakai and soon, the loathsome bones were covered with human flesh. The skull was now clothed in golden-skinned flesh. The Wild Man had effectively taken control. In exchange, he knew he had sacrificed everything to create a loathsome chimera.
Necromancer’s Sorrow: (Series Finale) Page 19