by Brad Clark
Marik slid off his horse and adjusted his sword to hang close to his side and underneath his cloak. “Let’s get it done, then.”
***
Farrus. Deceiver. The Adversary. Those were all names that others had given him. He had taken the name Farrus only because it was the name of the Human that had inhabited the body before he did. The Deceiver was the name that the minions of the One God had given him. He was actually comfortable with that name because he knew who and what he was. He had no illusions about his desires to conquer as much of the One God’s domain as he could, and he would do it in any manner that he could. The Adversary is the name his own followers had given him. He actually didn’t care for it, but he knew why it was given to him. His followers tended to shy away from what he truly was and tried to pretend that he was simply an equal to the One God. The Deceiver, however, had a firm understanding of where he fell in the pecking order, and that was one reason why he was motivated. He knew he was less than the One God, and he also knew that he would never attain that same status. At least not throughout the universe. But, since the universe was so massive, there was no reason why he couldn’t have just one realm for himself.
His home was simply a desolate part of the Other Worlds. His armies lived and trained there. Creatures of all shapes and sizes were slaves to do his bidding. Their existence was dark and painful in a domain that was dark and painful. This world, though, the one that he now looked upon, was so much brighter and full of potential. The stench of life wrinkled his nose, and soon enough he would take care of it. All the green of the trees and colors of flowers and bushes needed to go. But the mountains, plains, and even the oceans would give places for his variety of followers to live and thrive. They would no longer be under the rule of the One God, but truly on their own, living and existing as they saw fit.
From atop his tower, he could see across the waters to the land where his army was charging towards yet another Human city. They had easily overrun the first kingdom and was well on its way through the second. The locals called this second nation the Taran Empire. The armies were more resolute, as his goblin horde had been brought to a standstill just short of the Taran Empire’s largest city. The numbers of the Human army seemed to match those of his goblin horde, which did not bode well for upcoming battles. He knew the limitations of the goblins. They were vicious and tenacious, but they were also weak and easily dispatched. After the ease in which his goblin horde had taken over the first city and kingdom, he had let himself get overly confident, thinking he could simply throw as many of them onto the battlefield as he wanted.
Now, though, he needed to make sure victory would be assured. That meant calling forth more than just goblins, but the more powerful creatures of his domain. Since he didn't have the full power of the Ark of Life, he couldn't simply open a portal to his world and have them march through. He would need to do it one at a time, or maybe if he felt strong enough, two at a time.
The failure of Gregarious in finding the second half of the Ark of Life was initially an inconvenience. With his armies sweeping across the continent with ease, he didn't think he would need it to conquer the Human’s army. Now, he regretted not putting more effort into finding it. That would change when he brought his next set of generals over from the Other Worlds. He briefly thought of looking for it himself, but he still had an army to lead. Once found, if he were needed to retrieve it, he would leave to go retrieve it himself. He had minions for the menial task of finding it first.
In his hands was a large vial of the dragon’s blood. His task was now much more arduous and dangerous, and he needed to preserve his strength. The large black gem that was half of the Ark of Life hung from his neck in a small leather pouch. He could feel the warmth of its power, which helped warm him in the cold, blustery winter winds. It irritated him that he felt cold and pain, but it was just a side-effect of the body that he was forced to inhabit. Once the two pieces of the Ark of Life were together, he would be able to transform himself into the invincible, invulnerable force that he was used to being.
The wind was coming from the Gulf, so he turned his back to it. As he turned and faced out towards the land the locals called Karmon, he spotted three figures walking across the open field between the trees and the city. The battle for the city had caused the grasses of the field to be trampled, and the winter snow had provided a smooth white blanket. The three figures left a straight trail of footprints coming from the trees, heading towards where the city gate once stood. He paused for a moment to watch them. They were not the first survivors to try and re-enter the city. Over the past few weeks, small bands of them had tried to seek shelter among the ruins of the city. The goblins who remained had taken care of those that had come before and would likely take care of these three as well. Giving them no more thought, he turned his attention to the top of the tower.
In his hands, he held a large jar filled with the dragon’s blood. Although the dragon was large and carried a lot of blood within it, there was only a limited supply. Yet, he also knew that he didn’t need to be too stingy, either. His latest retrieval had allowed him to fill four large jars, which was as much as he dared take at once. The dragon needed to be healthy and strong to continue to produce good blood for a long time. Or, at least until the Deceiver decided that the dragon was no longer necessary. Then he would simply cut the beast’s throat and harvest all that was left. This last time, he had carefully considered whether he should do just that, as his current plans could be carried out with what blood filled the dragon. However, it would be possible that he would need more in the future to continue to bring forth his followers. Unless, of course, he was able to have both pieces of the Ark of Life in his possession. Then he would have the power to keep the portal open for as long as he needed and no longer need the dragon.
He needed to be careful with how much of the blood was used. Use too little, and there would not be enough of a connection with the Web of Magic to open the portal. Use too much, and he would simply waste the precious blood. As carefully as he could, he poured the thick, syrupy blood in a wide circle around the top of the tower. There were still remnants of blood from the last time he did this, which helped give him a pattern to follow. Once completed, he stood in the middle of the circle and looked at his work. It was as close to a perfect circle as he could make it, but it really didn’t need to be precise circles. It really only needed to be a closed loop. This would allow the power of the Web of Magic to be focused and centered on him.
The words of the spell that would open the portal came to him without effort. He knew them well, for they were ingrained within his soul. Unlike the Humans and Elves of this realm, he did need to study and know the spells that could tap into the Web of Magic. They just came naturally to him. The hair on the back of his neck started to tingle as the spell began to manifest itself. He slipped the Ark of Life gem from its leather pouch and gripped it tightly and the power that he could access grew exponentially. He felt almost limitless with what he could do, which was amazing because it had only a fragment of the power that he would have if he had both pieces of the Ark of Life.
Almost instantly, a bright light flashed in front of him and grew from a thin point in the air to a vertical line that ran from the ground to several feet above his head. As he drew more power from the Web of Magic, the thin line began to widen, exposing a deep darkness that was the Other World. The stench of death filled his nostrils, and he closed his eyes to take it in. He had gotten too used to the life of this world and enjoyed the moment where the darkness of death wafted into his senses.
The first that came through was a humanoid creature that stood on two thick, short legs. Attached to its back were leathery wings and its hands simply an extension of his wings. Only from the elbow down were its arms free. Long talons tipped the creature’s two fingers and thumb. Bones extended through the wings and each of these ended with razor-sharp talons. Its skin was a shimmering black the glistened in the sun.
“Targiss,
” The Deceiver said in greeting.
Targiss’ bright red eyes narrowed, and its mouth warped into a grimace. The creature did not speak but let out a grunt in reply. It stepped out of the circle to let the next creature through.
The second creature was covered with a thick coating of long, brown hair. It had elongated arms, which almost hung to the ground. It typically walked on two legs, but when it ran, it used all four limbs to propel it to seemingly impossible speeds. Its eyes were round and blue and were full of intelligence.
“Roddan. Welcome to my new domain.”
The hairy creature named Roddan sniffed and looked around. “Interesting scent this world has.”
Following Roddan were two four-legged creatures that resembled wolves. Their paws were larger and tipped with curved talons, and they had long fangs hanging down from their top teeth. With extra-long legs, they could run as fast as any creature alive. Their heads were oversized to accommodate large mouths that were full of sharp teeth. They pranced about the top of the tower as they sensed the fresh, cool air of this new realm.
Marching right behind the two oversized wolves were the soldiers he really needed. He called them Mashers, for that is what they did. They were human-looking but bigger. Every muscle of their body was exaggerated and full of incredible power. They were nearly as strong as Stone Ogres but could think and follow complex commands. Their eyes were narrow, almost thin slits and sat above wide noses. Their skin was a very dark green, almost black color. They each wore different garments that covered only the lower half of their body. Their upper chests were left bare, showing their bulging pectoral muscles. Ten of them walked through the portal, each carrying a large club. Some were spiked with nails others had razor-sharp pieces of metal embedded in the wood. Someday, he would bring forth thousands of these Mashers for the final battle. For now, his strength allowed only ten of them to come through.
Lastly, a thin humanoid creature walked through. Its skin shimmered in the bright light, reflecting not only the light of the sun but those that were around it. The creature was female, but there were no obvious physical signs that distinguished her from male counterparts. Her eyes were oversized for her head, especially with the short stub of skin and cartilage that was her nose. She called herself Marila. Without saying a word, she stepped to the side and stood next to Roddan.
Looking at his three generals, the two wolves, and the ten Mashers, he knew he had a force that could defeat a small army. They were impossibly strong, heavily resistant to any weapons Humanity could throw at them, and could survive for weeks without sustenance. He was still frustrated with his lack of power to bring forth more than these, but it would only be a matter of time before he had the whole Ark of Life in his hands.
Before he felt the last of his energy fade, he closed the portal. The two vertical lines of light and energy converged back into a single line and then shrunk until it was just a bright dot about chest high. Although he was drained of energy, he was not exhausted as he was when he had brought Gregarius through the portal. That gave him hope that, given more rest, he could bring forth more soldiers for his army. It would be a painfully slow process, but he was in no real hurry. The Humans were providing no real resistance, and it would only be a matter of time before he had full control of this domain.
Roddan dropped to a knee and dipped his head. Targiss sneered before dropping to a knee, but he didn’t bow his head. He looked straight into the Deceiver’s eyes. Marila continued to remain silent, but she did dip her head slightly when the Deceiver looked at her.
Turning back to Targiss, the Deceiver said to him, “Impetuous as always.”
Targiss held the Deceiver’s gaze for a moment before dropping his eyes to the ground. Mumbled words came out of his lips.
The Deceiver stepped forward and stood over him. “What?”
Targiss let out a grunt but said nothing more.
“Speak!” the Deceiver shouted, anger starting to build up.
Targiss looked up with daggers in his eyes. “You are weak.”
The Deceiver tried to control his anger. Although Targiss was and had always been a problem, he was too valuable to kill. He needed to be controlled, and in the past, it had been his superior strength that had always kept him at bay. Now that he was not in his own domain, he was indeed weak. But, he was still strong enough to control his generals.
“Do I need to show you my strength? Shall I rip your soul from your body while you watch? Your body here is as weak as mine is. I can take a dagger and slice your throat open, and you will bleed to death. It will be a painful way to go, but not as painful as I could make it. You are here by my command, by my grace. As I have brought you here, I can send you back.”
Targiss started to stand, and words of a spell crossed the Deceiver’s lips. With the thrust of a hand, the Deceiver sent Targiss sprawling backward, crashing into the rows of Mashers, and then off the top of the tower. A few seconds later, the sound of a thud reached their ears. The Deceiver continued to hold out his hand and pulled it back towards him with a sharp thrust. Two heartbeats later, Targiss appeared and was dropped onto the top of the tower.
Roddan glanced over at the still form of Targiss and chuckled. “You will never learn, will you?” Roddan then turned to the Deceiver and asked, “What is your will for us?”
“Obviously, I cannot count on Targiss to lead the Mashers, so I will leave that to you. You will find my army to the north and west.” The Deceiver pointed to the coastline that stretched to the northern horizon. “Follow the waters, and you will find the army. They are about to assault one of this world’s largest cities. Kill any who oppose you and enslave those that give up. There will be much to do in the coming months, and we will need many slaves.”
The Deceiver walked up to Targiss who was pulling himself up to a kneeling position. His facial expression told the Deceiver he had not learned his lesson, but that was to be expected. Targiss had been a problem for millennia, and he would continue to be a problem for millennia more.
“I know your thoughts, Targiss. I know that you hate me and don’t accept that you are subservient to me. You might think that we are equals in this land because I don’t have my full power, but do not be fooled. I have enough power to smite you or make your existence miserable for all eternity. For that reason, I will be keeping you at my side. You will be my personal bodyguard.”
Targiss let out a low hissing sound. “I will not be one of your slaves.”
“You may not think it, but you have been my slave for countless millennia. I know what’s in your heart. You cannot hide it from me. You want my power. I admire that in you, but you have to realize that you are a simple creature with little intelligence compared to me. You will never gain the power or the intelligence to lead more than a small battalion of my weakest soldiers. It is who you are. But, I do know that you are one of my best fighters, even better than Gregarious.”
Targiss turned and spat on the ground. “Gregarious is nothing.”
The Deceiver laughed. “You do not need to hide your jealousy of him! I know that you have always coveted his position of power.” His smiled left and knelt down to look Targiss in the eye. “You were always the better fighter, and you will show that to me. Gregarious was felled by a creature of the sky. It will come here to try and free its brethren, and when it comes, you will kill it.”
Targiss licked his lips.
“Yes, you may feed on its flesh.”
“You are too weak to kill it on its own.”
Roddan let out a snort. “You may know how to fight, Targiss, but you know nothing else. The beasts of the sky are dragons, and they cannot be felled by spell or magic. It is only through brute strength can they be defeated. It is a good thing you are strong and deadly, else you would certainly die from a lack of brains.”
Targiss twisted his body towards Roddan and snapped his teeth together. “Shall I feast on you, first?”
Roddan slowly turned his head and said, “You may try.�
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“Enough!” the Deceiver shouted. “I will smite the both of you and call forth another set of generals to help me take control of this world. Being here is a privilege, and you will be rewarded well for your efforts. But if you fail me, I will send your souls back to hell, and you will spend the rest of eternity as the lowest slave of slaves.”
Roddan dipped his head. “Your will is my command. I will do all that you ask of me.”
Through clenched teeth, Targiss said, “Your will, of course.”
The Deceiver would never trust Targiss, but the Deceiver never truly trusted anyone. At least Targiss didn’t hide who he was or what he stood for. The reason he was here was not that he was trustworthy, but because he was a powerful soldier. As long as he kept him close and within arm’s reach, he would be controllable.
The Deceiver said, “Targiss, you will stay here and guard my tower. The wolves are yours to command as you wish.”
“You would waste my talents standing watch over your pets?”
The Deceiver had expected the retort, so he was easily able to ignore the impetuous tone. “Soon enough I will be joining the battle, and then you will come with me. Until that time, I need to be sure that my tower is protected. The original inhabitants of this city have not all been accounted for and killed or enslaved. It will only be a matter of time before they will return to try and take back their city. That is where you will earn your keep.”
Targiss licked his lips.
The Deceiver started to turn away, but then he realized that Marila was standing patiently waiting for him. There was no emotion on her face. Not even annoyance at being ignored.
“Marila,” the Deceiver said. “For you, I have a job that only you could accomplish.”
Her thin lips started to bend up into a smile. Her skin shimmered, and suddenly she stood before him with long, black hair that hung down to her the middle of her back. She was dressed in a simple gown such as a local commoner might where.