Necromancer’s Sorrow: (Series Finale)

by Pablo Andrés Wunderlich Padilla

  Flower of wonder, loving flower,

  Disturbance shatters all your calm,

  But I will use your life and power

  To make a magic healing balm.

  After uttering these words and stroking the strange petals, which were orange and silky to the touch and were stem-less since the plant grew level with the ground, Funia grasped the four petals and slowly pulled.

  The petals were like the hair of a minute person. Its face was completely round, with neither ears nor a nose but only a pair of closed eyes and a mouth that gave the impression that it was quietly drowsing. The body continued to emerge as she pulled at the flower until she had exposed what looked like a root but was made up of two arms and two legs.

  By now, Funia was almost too nervous to go on. With all the care in the world, she deposited the flower on a wooden board. It looked so pretty, sleeping like a child. She knew there was no turning back. If she failed to go on with the ritual and extract all the healing properties from the flower, it would wake up, and not only would it be useless, she also ran the risk of being deafened for life.

  The thief took the knife and chopped off the head with a single stroke. She took the decapitated body and put it in a mortar where she began to mash it with the pestle, adding a bay leaf, thyme, and ‘dragon’s tears’, a potion created to make stronger ones.

  When the paste was ready, Talo shook the mage to wake him up. He had opened his eyes several days before but because of the medicines, he was still drowsy.

  “Drink this,” she said. The mage was hallucinating. He managed to sit up on the edge of the bed with difficulty and shake his head to clear it. He said nothing, but took the mortar and swallowed the paste in a single gulp without stopping to think. The bitter taste crinkled his face.

  “Not everybody fights against one of Mórgomiel’s demons and survives to tell the tale, Elgahar,” the fairy said.

  “Thank you for tending my wounds. What happened to the Iptaan? This balm… This is as strong as one of my potions. I must have more.”

  The question was obvious. Saaldún had died. What he wanted to know was the details of what had happened afterward. Talo told him all about the funeral, including the days of celebration, which made the mage realize that they had spent too long there. That was what he had been afraid of when he had accepted the deal with the late leader of the Catalgar.

  ***

  “With the Fire of Yoshto burning again,” Ulrica told the Interworld Committee before they set out, “and after the defeat of Orx, the shadows have been pushed back to their hiding place and Hoomasaas is once again ready to fight with all its strength. The defeat of the army of the Yundal has allowed us to enjoy the freedom we had missed and to be true to the promise my father Saaldún—may he rest with the God of Fire—made to you. A legion of fifty thousand Catalgar, trained and powerful, will migrate to the Meridian to join the efforts to drive back the God of Chaos.”

  They were gathered at the table late at night, lingering to chat after a delicious dinner. Turi, Merkas, Khad’Un, Amon Ras, Chirllp, and Ushka were the saddest at the prospect of leaving. They had eaten, drunk, feasted, and won so many games of irlán that, by now, they were growing accustomed to the new culture and they knew that leaving it all behind meant starting anew on another world. They would need to learn the details of another culture, meet new leaders, and get used to the length of days there. But there was no choice, and they knew it.

  Ulrica raised her glass in a toast. “My father would be proud of you. May my fifty thousand soldiers and their hundred centurions give you the support you need to defeat evil. With the recovery of the Fire of Yoshto and the defeat of Orx, everything will go smoothly. With the forest free of malice, our shamans have collected enough mandrake flowers and we are ready to defend what is ours.”

  “The forests of Farwas rival those of the Lands of El Malush in the Great Mesh in beauty,” Unna replied. “I will never forget what Mother has revealed to me. If it doesn’t trouble you, Iptaan, I’m taking some flowers and seeds I’ve found that I’m going to keep as trophies and I hope to be able to take to my home and show to my Clan.”

  “The honor will be ours, Unna. I hope that one day we may be able to visit your world in less difficult circumstances and enjoy the moors which, according to your description of them, must be very different from ours.”

  Tenchi was flying around Ulrica, sharing thoughts and memories with the new leader of the great he-goats. Tagulumich, on the other hand, stayed by himself, enjoying what he had learned in Farwas in his own way.

  “As part of the deal we made with Balthazar,” Ulrica went on. “Your Committee will be joined by three new members: Ekimidos, Perófias Blackhoof, and Amana Ñadin, the fairy of Ewald.”

  “Three new members!” Turi said cheerfully, wide-eyed. He was a little drunk and his voice rose loudly.

  “You’ll be missed, men and women of the Meridian, and you, and you.” She glanced at Tagulumich, Tenchi, and Ushka. “Forever will you be welcome in the Hall of Memories. I, the representative of the people of Hoomasaas, wish you the best of journeys to your next destination. May ArD’Buror and his fire ever be with you!”

  “This is for you to give to the centurion who will lead the army,” Elgahar said. “Tell him that the moment he crosses the portal, he must hand it to the guards on watch.”

  Ulrica took the copper coin and studied it for a brief moment. “Thank you, mage.”

  ***

  The following day, Elgahar created two portals. One was destined to be used as a bridge between Farwas and the Meridian, the one the fifty thousand Catalgar would cross to reach the Portal of the Worlds. This was no simple momentary vortex, so it needed greater effort and energy to hold it open until the army had crossed. The other portal he created to transfer them to the world Balthazar had chosen for them, a momentary one that would vanish in a matter of minutes.

  Chapter XLIV — Vulnerability

  The flight back to the New World, straight to Háztatlon, lasted only a few hours thanks to Nordost’s speed. On his back were the Metallic Knight and Meromérila who were hoping to find the capital in the process of rebuilding and full of activity. On the contrary, and to their chagrin, they found it in chaos.

  The parts decimated by Mórgomiel during the attack were still in ruins, while the city itself seemed strangely empty. They flew over it at a moderate height. The dragon and his passengers were glimpsed by several citizens who, when they saw them, dropped their belongings to shield their eyes from the sun and point upwards. It was not one citizen from a slum or a noble neighborhood who smiled at the sight of the dragon gliding above them, nor was it a dozen; it was a hundred.

  The crowd of people grew as the bars and taverns poured out their customers, all of them anxious to see what was happening in the sky.

  “It’s the Dragonrider King!” most of them were shouting. The memory of Mégalath repelling Górgometh had endured, and many sagas were being composed in memory of that great battle.

  “Our king has returned riding the lucky dragon! He’ll save us from misfortune!”

  Something’s not right, Mérdmerén thought. The sovereign had expected to come back to a city in the process of reconstruction.

  Here, there’s only disaster and unrest, Nordost thought. I don’t recommend that we land.

  Meromérila expressed her puzzlement, “Something terrible has happened during your absence. Mérdmerén—Knight. I cannot see the Committee in my thoughts. Something is wrong.”

  Mérdmerén wanted to meet with the Baron to talk to his friend and discuss the details of the battle that would soon begin. He wanted to find out any news there might be and bring himself up to date.

  I can detect Black Arts, the dragon thought. And in many places. They are being used at this very moment and their presence grows as the seconds go by. Since we arrived, it has multiplied several times over, which can only mean that our arrival has awoken something or someone. Landing and fighting would be suic
ide. We do not know what kind of devils we would be fighting against and for all we know, this might be an ambush. This place, I am sorry to say, is lost.

  The human inside the reincarnated Metallic Knight could not believe it. His city, where he had been born and raised, the place he had only recently left to go in search of Nordost, had fallen in a matter of what felt like only a few days.

  We must find a safe place to find allies and peace, Nordost thought.

  I think I know where, the Metallic Knight replied. With access to all the memories of the human he had been reincarnated in, he knew that one of the servants of the Oracle had hidden in this world before falling under the domination of Mórgomiel and imprisoned inside a mirror.

  “Sokomonoko must be at the Portal of the Worlds,” the Knight said. “Her mission was always that of welcoming those who cross the Portal to join our group.”

  “Wait a moment,” Meromérila said and closed her eyes. She found her using the gift allowed her to glimpse likely futures. “She has gone back to Grizna. We must go to her land of origin.”

  “Are you sure?” Nordost asked. “We don’t want to waste a single extra minute when danger is approaching so fast.”

  “I am sure. I feel that the empress wants to communicate with me.”

  “On we go, then! To Grizna, quickly!”

  Without ado, Nordost beat his wings a couple of times and turned his body through a hundred and eighty degrees in the direction of Grizna.

  ***

  They arrived in Grizna at great speed. When the magical beast with metal scales landed on Griznan land, his arrival frightened even the Toroks that had been installed at their posts by their trainers. In some earlier age and on other worlds, Toroks had formed part of the dragons’ vast menu. Nordost, however, was no ordinary dragon and his stomach did not rumble like those of other dragons since his food did not come from material sources.

  The Metallic Knight leaped gracefully to the ground. For Meromérila’s sake, Nordost flattened his belly to the ground as much as he could, then spread out one wing as a ramp.

  A group of twenty guards wearing golden tunics and white turbans moved toward the new arrivals with their spears raised. They had landed close to the Tower of Lis in the city called Iris, the capital of Grizna.

  The Knight took off his helmet. Mérdmerén raised his hand at the sight of the twenty guards surrounding him with their spears pointing at his stomach. “Wait a moment, my lords. I come in search of the empress. Allow my dragon to verify this.”

  Nordost glared threateningly at the guards, who hesitated at the sight of such a huge creature.

  “He is with me,” came a voice behind the guards. Sokomonoko had come out of the Tower of Lis.

  “Eternal life, your highness. We thought they were intruders.”

  The guards stood to attention at their lieutenant’s order and left in two groups of ten to continue protecting the perimeter. Only one of them dared to look back at the impressive dragon.

  Sokomonoko was accompanied by two short women who were both dressed in billowing purple dresses that made them look rather comical. But that was the Griznan culture, and they knew they had to respect it.

  Meromérila did not know what to say to the vision of elegance in front of her eyes. The tall woman dressed in black with her hair piled up like a sculpture came forward to Mérdmerén to admire the dragon close up.

  Sokomonoko knelt and bowed to honor the dragon with an appropriate greeting. “It is an honor, your highness,” she said. With her powers, she was able to see the past, the present, and the possible future of the dragon. She saw his longevity, the battles he had fought, and the suffering he had had to endure during those first Times of Chaos when Mórgomiel had unleashed his fury against both old gods and new and eliminated his brothers. She saw afterward when he became the custodian of Tempus Frontus. So many bloody battles had left their mark in the soul of the Dragon of the Metal Scales, something the Empress of Grizna was able to appreciate.

  “Mérdmerén, is it really you?”

  Mérdmerén smiled and said, “Of course. I’m still the King of Mandrake, the nobody who came out of the rubble of banishment to become king of the most powerful nation of the New World. Now the Metallic Knight has been reincarnated in my flesh.”

  “What!?” Sokomonoko cried in surprise.

  “Some things in life are better shown than described,” Mérdmerén explained. “So, here I go.” A fleeting thought crossed his mind. As a father, he felt terrible when he remembered his daughter and Lombardo and that he was going to be a grandfather. He made a mental note to find them or at least send them a letter before he went on his way. Still, he was comforted by the fact that Lombardo was a warrior, and, he hoped, would know how to look after both his daughter and the baby that was growing in her womb.

  Mérdmerén put on the helmet, at once becoming the Metallic Knight. He took on all his properties and memories and allowing him to take control over his body so that Mérdmerén of the Kings was left in the background.

  “It’s impossible,” Sokomonoko said with tears in her eyes. The intense sun of the afternoon shone on her surprised face.

  “You died,” the empress said. “You were destroyed by Mórgomiel and his terror.”

  Meromérila had stayed beside Nordost’s flank and from there, she watched Sokomonoko talk to the Knight.

  “But I was not consumed by Wrath the Godslayer,” the Knight explained. “My soul was incorporated into my armor when I died. Mórgomiel was not the only one who stored his powers in the pieces of his armor. Thanks to Nordost and the bravery of Mégalath and Mérdmerén, behold me here.”

  Sokomonoko was awestruck. This revelation was too much for her. It was as true as the fact that Alac Arc Ángelo had been resurrected in a boy called Manchego of the Holy Comment Ranch.

  “It is simply fascinating. Hope is coming back to our side. Something terrible has happened. We lost Háztatlon.”

  “I guessed as much the moment we saw the city,” the Knight said.

  “Come. Let us sit and talk. There is too much to tell and not enough time to do so, but at least allow me to look after you for a while. I must say one thing: you humans never cease to surprise me. What strength of will!”

  The empress came up to Meromérila and greeted her with kisses on both cheeks. She felt dwarfed and tiny beside the great dragon. Nordost lowered his head and closed his eyes, greeting the empress with the courtesy expected of a dragon. Sokomonoko had to touch one of his claws and the metal scales on one of his legs to ascertain that he was really there.

  “It is a pleasure to see you safe, Queen of the Mílikin. Please come in with us. I beg your pardon most deeply for not acknowledging you sooner.”

  The woman with silver hair, pale skin, and violet eyes replied, “Think nothing of it.”

  ***

  The severity of what had happened did not need to be exaggerated, nor explained in greater detail. Evil had infiltrated the Imperial Palace and taken control of it, scaring away the Baron, imprisoning Leandro and Gáramond, and it was only thanks to the Baron that both government officials had been rescued urgently so that they could escape and carry out this unlikely plan of setting a trap for the trap. But there was more to tell.

  Mérdmerén, is that really you? The Baron’s voice made Mérdmerén, hidden in the background of the Metallic Knight, long to come out and talk to his old friend. The Knight allowed it and took off his helmet.

  Baron! Mérdmerén thought back at him. By the Old Gods and the new ones! What the hell is that?

  The Wand of Lis. We’ve managed to replicate the Tower of Lis on a smaller scale, as I told you. It’s been a difficult business, and I fear we won’t be able to repeat it in time to make enough devices to give to every one of the leaders of the nations. But we can communicate using this one without any problem.

  The Baron told him the details of the planned trap to catch Leandro the Impostor and how they were intending to manage it. He let him kn
ow that under no circumstance should he and his dragon appear at the Portal of the Worlds until the impostor was replaced, as otherwise the trap for the trap would be revealed. Mérdmerén nodded and though he was not without a few reproaches, he knew that the balance of this war could be tipped either way and he needed to respect the small advantage they had.

  Once the impostor’s replaced by the real Leandro, the Baron said. We’ll attack with everything we have.

  We’ll attack what or who?

  Whoever or whatever it is that Mórgomiel has planned to send when Leandro assembles our army around the Portal of the Worlds.

  Through the Tower of Lis, Mérdmerén explained in detail his battle with Mórgomiel in the Old World and of how—claw against claw, sword against sword—both gods had battled with everything they could bring to bear. He explained that the battle had only ceased so that the Metallic Knight could save Nordost’s life since the dragon was moments away from death at the claws of Górgometh.

  Mórgomiel has been repelled for a few days while he recovers, he concluded.

  Then we’ll take advantage of the fact that he’s hurt and hope our plan works to perfection. We’ll be in touch, my dear friend. It’s a pleasure to know you’re alive and that we have someone as powerful as the Metallic Knight, as well as his dragon, on our side. In the meantime, we’ll continue migrating from Háztatlon and make a base for ourselves in Kathanas. You won’t find me there, though. It’ll be my thieves who’ll take up their places in the city of rock towers. And with this, the Faceless Baron withdrew his thoughts.

  Mérdmerén told Sokomonoko and Meromérila about the conversation to bring them up to speed.

  “I will send an army of Toroks,” Sokomonoko said. “Along with an army of well-armed soldiers who will ride the beasts just as you people ride horses.”

  This gladdened the hearts of the others but when she heard of Ulfbar’s fall and the destruction of New Gardak, together with the annihilation of more than half the insects who had migrated to help in the reconstruction and three-quarters of the Gardak population, Sokomonoko shared their sorrow.