The Sin War Box Set: Birthright, Scales of the Serpent, and The Veiled Prophet

by Richard A. Knaak

  Uldyssian could feel the Worldstone’s radiance and did not doubt that it had the ability to utterly smother his powers. Yet, why was it not doing so now?

  “This is the work of Lilith,” Rathma quietly declared.

  “Do you read my mind?”

  The demoness’s son shook his head. “I read…sensations. It is almost like reading thoughts, but far more accurate, for thoughts can be filled with lies.”

  Once again confused, Uldyssian turned back to the subject at hand. “What’s she done?”

  “Clearly, my mother altered the resonance of the Worldstone again, so that now its effect is minimal and limited more or less to Mount Arreat, if that. Even in its presence, you were able to overcome it. With the Worldstone no longer a hindrance, the natural process enabling the nephalem powers could now flourish. You are the result of that…the first, anyway.”

  The more he stood near it, the more Uldyssian sensed the Worldstone’s emanations. He imagined them a thousand times greater…no, a thousand thousand times. What Rathma had said made more sense. With such mighty forces sweeping over Sanctuary, his kind would surely never have come into existence. Only Lilith’s interference had changed that.

  He suddenly cursed the artifact, hating it for having smothered the potential of all humans, hating it for failing that duty and forcing him and his followers into their current desperate situation.

  Then, something occurred to him. “Rathma…could it be altered again?”

  “A question I have pondered and the true reason we are here, son of Diomedes.” The black-cloaked figure gestured toward the Worldstone. “What would you have of it? Would you return to what you once were? Make yourself somehow more mighty? Tell me, Uldyssian ul-Diomed…”

  Uldyssian would have liked desperately to unmake all that had happened to him, to somehow return to the day before Lilith had entered his life and begun his trials. Yet he doubted that even the Worldstone was capable of that. At most, it would remove from him and the others the nephalem gifts. Unfortunately, it would not remove the threat of the Triune, now surely determined to deal with those defying its will and existence. Moreover, he doubted that the angel Inarius would let things be, either.

  Which left only one option…

  “Can the Worldstone really be altered to make us more powerful?”

  “No, not directly, but it can be altered to encourage the gifts’ growth. That would, in essence, result in much the same of what you desire.”

  To Uldyssian, that was all that mattered. “Tell me what I can do.”

  “This is the Worldstone. For you to achieve what you desire, you must think it. The crystal will either accept your will or deny it.”

  “That simple?”

  Rathma grimaced. “No…not in the least.”

  Tired of his companion’s murky and often contradictory statements, Uldyssian turned his complete focus on the huge crystal. The Worldstone pulsated almost hypnotically.

  You must think it…Rathma had said. Uldyssian tried to clear his thoughts, then concentrated on what he wished.

  We need to be stronger, he told the Worldstone. We need our powers to grow faster…

  The Worldstone did not outwardly change in any way, but Uldyssian felt something within start to shift in response to his probing. He repeated his desire, emphasizing the need for more power and quickly.

  But the slight shifting of—of the resonance?—went no further. Try as he might, Uldyssian could not do more. Although he forced every iota of his will upon the Worldstone, in the end it was he who fell back gasping and defeated.

  Rathma’s gloved hands took hold of his arm. Sweating and furious, Uldyssian glared at his companion.

  Lilith’s son wore an expression of utter shock.

  That, in turn, left Uldyssian momentarily gaping. He had never seen such a show of raw emotion from Rathma.

  “What’s wrong?” he finally managed to ask. “Is there danger?”

  “The Worldstone…” the pale figure whispered almost reverently. The narrow eyes darted from Uldyssian to the gleaming artifact and then back to the human. “I wanted to see…but I never expected…it was a theory…no more than that…no more…”

  Again, he made no sense to Uldyssian, especially after a glance at the gargantuan crystal revealed nothing changed. “What’re you talking about? I failed.”

  “Do not look with your eyes…look with your mind and soul.”

  Brow furrowed, Uldyssian stared again at the Worldstone, but this time also delved into it using other senses. He still found nothing different; the Worldstone reverberated as it had before, not even the slightest—

  No…there was a hint of a change, so intricate that it was no surprise that he had earlier missed it. But such an alteration could hardly cause any worthwhile effect…could it?

  “I did something after all. Not much. Will it mean anything?”

  Rathma uttered a sound, then murmured, “Observe the structure of the artifact, Uldyssian. Observe it at the very core. You can do that…”

  Uldyssian concentrated more…and found himself staring deep within the Worldstone. He saw the fine, crystalline pattern that made up the fantastic formation and marveled at the minute details. Tiny, five-sided segments multiplied endlessly and formed the stone’s most basic structure. Uldyssian could not help but admire their perfection. That the artifact had been created as opposed to being a natural formation astounded him so much that he briefly forgot the trouble it had caused him.

  But none of this had to do with his search. He was about to give up when one small area near the heart caught his attention. There was something not right about it. Immediately, Uldyssian knew that this was the source of the alteration in the Worldstone’s resonance. He thrust his mind deeper, seeing more detail—

  Seeing where the rest of the Worldstone was composed of a five-sided pattern, this one part had six edges.

  What had been perfect, was now flawed…impossibly so.

  He withdrew immediately. “Lilith’s work—”

  “No, son of Diomedes…your work.” Rathma’s gaze burrowed into him. “My mother altered the resonance through a spell, which affected outcome but not structure. I expect you to do the same, or more likely, fail. It was a desperate chance, but one I felt worthy. You had been cast this near the Worldstone for a reason, I thought…”

  “It was an accident that I came here.”

  “Have you not discovered yet that there are no accidents?” the shrouded figure returned. “I did not know what to expect, but certainly not this. Uldyssian ul-Diomed, you have altered the very essence of the Worldstone, something that should not be possible…” Rathma frowned. “And whether that means good or ill for our hopes, I fear that we can only wait…and pray…”

  Fourteen

  Achilios stirred. He did not wake, for the suggestion of waking itself referred to sleep, which was an impossibility for one in his state.

  Yet he had not been conscious. As the archer slowly pushed his face from the muddy jungle soil, he wondered what had happened to him. Achilios recalled the tentacles of the Triune’s demonic servant starting to pull him asunder, but after that, it was all a blank.

  Thinking of the beast, he leapt to his feet. Achilios gave thanks that, despite the lurid tales he had heard as a child, he was at least a very agile dead man. He supposed he should be grateful to the dragon for that, but in some ways being so near to alive, and yet not, left a bitter coldness inside. Near to alive was not the same as being alive.

  Then, memory of what he was actually doing in this part of the jungle came back to him. Achilios spun around to face Hashir.

  But the edge of the city closest to his location was in ruins.

  He stared without blinking—another habit of the living he no longer required—trying to decipher just how long it had been since the destruction. The gates, the walls surrounding them…those had been smashed as if by giant fists. Within, two of the triple towers had been destroyed, one not even visible any
more from his point of view. The sole remaining tower—Dialon’s, if Achilios was not mistaken—leaned precariously. A hint of smoke rose from the area below the towers.

  This destruction happened at least a day, maybe two, Achilios estimated. Hopefully, no more than that.

  Yet, even that was too long. She would not be here. At first chance, she would have ordered Uldyssian’s followers on…but to where? He no longer understood her plan, not that any of it mattered that much to him now. Only one thing was of importance to the hunter, no matter what Trag’Oul or Rathma might insist otherwise.

  Serenthia—his Serenthia—had been possessed by the damned demoness.

  At the thought of what Lilith had done, Achilios seized up his bow. He imagined Uldyssian’s treacherous lover in his sight. An arrow through the heart. An arrow imbued with the magic of the serpentine dragon…

  But that would mean slaying Serenthia as well.

  Despite what he knew they would insist, Achilios felt that there had to be another way. Serenthia was not dead, her flesh peeled off so neatly by demonic magic so that Lilith could parade in it. No, the woman he loved was still there, albeit deep asleep. Somehow, she had to be stirred awake so that she could battle Lilith from within while others fought the demoness from without.

  Somehow…

  First, you’ve got to track her down, you dolt! He had no idea how much of a head start Uldyssian’s followers had or whether they were proceeding to the same destination as originally intended. All Achilios could do was what he did best. Follow his target.

  It was daytime, which meant that the living were about. However great the devastation on this end of Hashir, the common folk would still need to eke out a living, be it hunting, farming, or fishing. Achilios was grateful that no one had come across his body, lest he find himself forced to dig out of yet another grave, or worse, trying desperately to douse the fires of a pyre. His lone encounter with one of the locals had been enough to make Achilios wary of any repeat. He was too recognizably dead even on his feet. Equally frustrating was the fact that, thanks to his collapse, he had more dirt than ever caked on his body. A quick attempt to brush some of that away had proven nearly as futile as removing the original coating. It seemed that the soil in general believed that Achilios belonged to it and refused to give up attempting to put him under again.

  He would not allow it to do that until he had done everything he could for his beloved.

  Like a shadow, the hunter slipped through the jungle around Hashir. Twice, he came across some of the inhabitants, but they were slow of wit compared to him and Achilios readily avoided detection. He finally managed to reach the area beyond the ruined gate, where he hoped that he would find clues to those he sought.

  That actually proved easier than he thought. The edyrem had grown in numbers again, so much so that the trail they left was like that of a herd of the giant animals with the snakelike noses that the lowlanders used for some chores or rode almost like horses. Even a blind man could have followed the mass exodus he confronted.

  But what surprised him was that they were not headed, as they should have been, on the route that would take them to the main temple. Instead, they were veering even farther south, to an area he knew nothing about.

  What was Lilith up to?

  Achilios shoved on. Whatever it was did not ultimately matter. He would catch up to them no matter where they journeyed.

  Hopefully, by then he would have some plan…

  They are returning…

  Those three words cheered Mendeln more than he could have imagined. He looked up from the task the dragon had set for him, learning how to even better focus his will through the astonishing dagger. It had been going surprisingly well. He was amazed at his inherent ability to manipulate the tool, especially considering how short a time it had been his.

  But now, all interest in the blade vanished as he stood up and looked around. “Where? Where?”

  And suddenly, Uldyssian and Rathma stood before him. His brother appeared as relieved as he. The sons of Diomedes hugged one another while Rathma gazed on stone-faced and a sense of amusement radiated from the celestial serpent. The many images of life continually flashed into and out of view as the creature undulated.

  Be not so disdainful of familial affection, my good Rathma, Trag’oul remarked so that all could sense him.

  “My experience with such has not been the best and you should know that.”

  Mendeln and Uldyssian separated. The first thing out of Uldyssian’s mouth was, “Serenthia…Lilith’s possessed her…it happened before Hashir…”

  “As I also understand it, although at first I feared that she had been slain like Master Ethon.” Mendeln gave the starry being a short look of frustration for that temporary shock. Still, Serenthia’s current situation was not all that much better. “We must find a way to force the demoness out…”

  “That will not be so simple,” interjected Rathma. “I know of old how tight my mother can cling to that which is of use to her…as you might also recall, Uldyssian ul-Diomed.”

  Uldyssian bared his teeth at the tall figure. “I don’t give a damn! I’ve got to save her…and the others, too! At the very least, they need to be warned!”

  Rathma looked to the dragon. “Trag?”

  Her influence is already mounting. Uldyssian is weakened in the eyes of his edyrem.

  “And whose fault is that?” Mendeln’s brother roared. He shook a fist at the stars. “Who took me away? Who kept me from going to her?”

  Had you returned immediately, in the condition that you were in, she would have easily subdued you…

  “He speaks the truth,” Rathma added. “She had already infested you with her darkness. A return to Lilith at that time would have only served to allow her to complete her spell.”

  Mendeln understood just what they were saying, but felt the need to defend his sibling. “Why could we have not done more, then?”

  “You should understand better than that,” returned Lilith’s son bluntly. “Trag’Oul cannot be known to exist, neither by my dear parents nor the Burning Hells or High Heavens. For the greater good of all Sanctuary—and for its very survival—he must always be hidden from their sight in order to help make certain that the world remains in Balance.” Rathma took a breath, then added, “As for me, my fate lies elsewhere, as I have known all along. I can say no more.”

  It was hardly an answer to satisfy Mendeln, much less Uldyssian, but both had come to know that they would get no more from Rathma.

  In fact, Uldyssian was clearly growing impatient to do something…anything. Mendeln had seen his brother like this on a few rare occasions and feared what would happen if they delayed further.

  “All is not without hope,” he started to tell Uldyssian. “There is another who is even now—”

  But he got no further. Uldyssian blurted, “Small wonder that Inarius and the demons have been able to play with our world for so long! You do nothing but interfere with those who’re no danger to you and stand idle against those most of a threat!”

  Mendeln put a calming hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Uldyssian…”

  But the older sibling ignored the younger. “Tell me, Rathma! Did we accomplish anything with the Worldstone? Has anything changed?”

  “Most certainly, but how much must be deduced by careful observation—”

  “I’ve observed enough! I—”

  HOLD!

  Although Trag’Oul’s outburst happened only within them, it was as if thunder had just exploded. Even Rathma clutched his head in pain from the loudness.

  The angel is active.

  Those words brought the three others to attention. Uldyssian glanced at Mendeln, who indicated he should instead study Rathma.

  The pale figure was, if anything, more pale than ever. Yet it was not fear that Mendeln sensed in the other. Rather, he believed it something more akin to resignation.

  “It is settled, then,” Rathma said.

  That
is your choice. I have always said that…

  “No…it is my father’s choice…never mine…” Rathma eyed the two mortals. “But perhaps…perhaps I have been overanalyzing…perhaps…” His narrow eyes narrowed further as they focused on Uldyssian.

  Mendeln’s brother vanished.

  “What did you do?” Mendeln demanded. He could not sense Uldyssian anywhere.

  “I sent him where he needed to be.”

  Loyalty stirred within the younger brother. “Then, I shall go with—”

  “No…I will need you for the confrontation.” Rathma’s resignation grew more pronounced. “I trust you’ve been educating him swiftly, Trag?”

  As much as can be done. You are not bound to this…

  “Aah, but I am. Come, Mendeln.”

  Well suspecting that he had no choice in the matter, Mendeln still wanted to know into what he was being forced. “And where do you take me when I would be at my brother’s side? Where?”

  Rathma spread his cloak wide, his look now that of death itself. “I would take you to the place I would rather be farthest from. I would—no—I must, I am sorry to say, bring you with me…to stand before my loving father…”

  Uldyssian stood in the jungle.

  At first, he welcomed the sight. Rathma had finally given in and sent him where he needed to be.

  Then, Uldyssian noticed that he was once more missing Mendeln.

  He shook a fist at the thick canopy above. “Damn you again, Rathma! You’re no better than those you disclaim as your parents!”

  But neither Lilith’s son nor the great beast responded. Uldyssian concentrated on Mendeln, trying to first draw his brother to him, and then when that failed, attempting to return to the emptiness that was Trag’Oul’s domain.

  But still nothing happened.

  Before he could consider what else to try, Uldyssian sensed something that completely took his attention from his brother.

  Serenthia—Lilith—both of them—were nearby.