Malcor's Story

by Eric K. Barnum

  He stepped from that room back to the place he most commonly referred to as home these days. The ogres called it the “throne room” but the lich had dismissed that given he did not see himself as a king. “Would a god take a lesser title or dwell in a place suited for just a king?” he had challenged the ogres when he first heard them refer to his throne that way. The large chair of molten stone sat high over a pool of water and blood from which the lich could scry any area his troops had claimed with his symbol. One of his ogre commanders waited for him. As he sat down and the scrying pool stirred, he called to his revenants and sent them to watch the dark-haired boy. “Should he fall, bring his body to me.”

  The ogre reported that five more parties had left from Ori and that tall ships with grand white sails had arrived bearing Sorian marks. “Those ships, they bear the sun god’s marks. Cursed Pha Rann and those people will seek you out as a mighty evil to be destroyed master.”

  "Pha Rann?” the lich restated. “Do you mean Phaer Daroon I wonder. A bright light of creation in the dawn sky?”

  The ogre stared back with blank expression. “My master, I only know that the empire of Taysor worships Pha Rann as the sun god, destroyer of evil and lightbringer. They are allied with Ori and no doubt will bring many powerful heroes and magi against you.”

  Shiniba added, "The paladins combine combat skill with priest magic. I have seen it myself from, from my life. They will seek you out great one."

  The scrying pool shifted to the docks. “Excellent, your friend has kept his word.” The tall ships came into view as horses and humans of all kinds disembarked with their gleaming armor and shining weapons. What served as the noble house greeted them. “See commander? They bring us more tribute. Excellent. I grew worried that Ori would run out and we’d have to destroy them before any ran our trap.”

  The ogre commander chuckled wickedly and the others joined in. “Master, I will lead a war band to greet these Sorian heroes!”

  The lich looked at him and then said, “Granted. We do not need the mountain troops. Take them. Shiniba, something troubles me. I have been sensing a ram skull, watching us."

  "Great One, the ram skull is sacred to the demon god of necromancy – "

  "No, there is no necromantic god."

  "Apologies, but there is. My people and the people of this world have fought against it for, well, forever. The ram skull is its divine symbol. If you are seeing it, perhaps that god is seeking you?" Shiniba shuddered.

  "Why do you tremble?"

  "You have made me a vampire. Without you, I would be forced to serve that demon. It is a fate more horrible than I can consider."

  While Shiniba told what he knew, the lich turned his attention to the pool and watched the waters swirl. He could see the area around Malcor but Malcor himself blurred. As he watched, one of his revenants moved into the shadows to watch. Malcor and the priest looked directly at it sensing something but then let it go. The boy had almost completely healed. The lich scarce believed the boy had defeated his two best wraiths. No human in his times could have done such a thing. Truly, things had changed. He tried to view the boy more closely but the pool blurred more and more as he got closer.

  “Something is blocking my view of this one,” he said considering the possibilities.

  As if on cue, his pool rippled and a face appeared there. Non-descript and unremarkable, the face greeted the lich in the language of the elves from millennia ago. The lich smirked and waved to remove the image but the face just grinned… and remained.

  “Greetings master from the ancient times,” the visage spoke. “My true name, great one, is Malyx Do’Allariss, though the Imperics and my kinsmen know me as Daryx. A humble servant to a power that wishes to speak with you. I bring you information, a warning, and also an opportunity. Would you speak with me?” Daryx smiled.

  Behind Daryx, the entire Mage’s Guild had assembled to create this opportunity. The emperor’s son Blaze, gifted in fire magic, and the emperor himself watched, ready to intervene if needed. Criminals sentenced to die lay chained to a pentagram from the center of which Daryx stood and spoke.

  The lich looked with more interest at the pool and tried to switch view. Nothing happened and Daryx grinned more allowing his dark elven fangs to show. What the lich did not see was several members of the guild collapsed resisting the lich’s attempt to change the scrying pool’s focus. “Speak elf.”

  “Yes, lord. First, some twenty-seven thousands years have passed since the time of what we call the Eldar. Those, like you, who walked in the dawn of chaos and creation are fading. The world is different. You have expressed and seem to use a form of magic aligned with undeath. I wish to warn you that there is an awesome foe who claims that dominion. It will seek you out to enslave you. You will lose your free will should you be found. That is the information and the warning.

  "The opportunity is join an empire that fights against this foe, and join with a few other survivors of the eldar. Learn about this world. Become a god if you wish; there is a path. Or stay with your free will intact. We want to help you. I'm sure we can find common ground.”

  The lich smiled back at Daryx. “There is no god of undeath. There is no claim to necromancy or ownership of magic.” The lich reached out to take Daryx’s soul. Back in the Mage's Guild, a series of runes inscribed on Daryx’s body flared brightly. Matching runes marking a chained criminal simultaneously ignited and that criminal’s soul flowed into the lich. Another member of the guild fell unconscious.

  The lich expected Daryx to scream, not smile as his soul entered into him. It lacked potency and power. The mind had been destroyed and yielded no information. “Great one,” Daryx said. “The world has changed. Even as an Eldar, new magics allow us to defeat your manifest desires. Tell me, you must have chosen the path of immortality in that peculiar form before the River began to flow. Why?”

  The lich sneered, “Why? Because I could and it gave me greater power over the weak things of the world.”

  “You can take other forms. If you give up this one, the god of necromancy will never be able to take you. But, the longer you stay, the longer you continue to use necromancy, the more this world will pull at you. You have seen it yes? The ebb and flow of your existence washing away. We can help you understand it. We can help you find a place should you wish to leave. You could even become a god, have your own kingdom, whatever you want. Your current path is one of enslavement to the Jade God.”

  “I suppose you want something from me?”

  “No, not at all. Should our common foe claim you, besides losing your free will, my empire will gain a terrible enemy. We’d rather have you as a powerful friend first, a neutral relative second, or even as a distant separated “lets stay far away from each other” than see you become a servant of the Jade God. Don't get me wrong, your power will be many times what it is now, but you will be a mindless slave. We have seen other eldar succumb and become such. I am prepared to give you a book that describes these things. A gift from my emperor to you.”

  “A bribe?”

  “A gift of respect.”

  The lich sneered again and bared his teeth at Daryx. “Dark elves in my time were mightier than humans. How is it you serve them now?”

  “I serve myself. My empire second. Humans and elves have not always walked together, but I choose my own path. I invite you to walk it with us. Since Time began flowing, my peoples have fragmented and worship Lolth. Her religion has destroyed what they were.”

  The lich reached his hand out and pulled at Daryx to bring him through and physically place this annoying interruption in his presence. Behind Daryx, more than fifty criminals had been shackled and made ready. Souls began ripping free and then bodies vanished. As they appeared before the lich, he threw them to the side and pulled again. Daryx whispered, “We send the book as a gift. Watch, as you do this… your essence begins to die and flow in the River that ends with your enslavement and ultimately death.”

  The lich snarled
as body after body that was not the dark elf shattered to ice glass before his rage. The mountain trembled and even the undead paused as they bore witness to the first time they ever saw their master lose self-control.

  “Shiniba,” the lich growled. “Return to me.”

  Minutes later, the vampire stood before the pool, “Yes great lord?”

  “Let the Sorians come here to the mountain and engage the many traps you set for them. I have a different task for you.” The lich removed his gauntlet and held it over the pool. He dropped it. Without a splash, it fell into the water and immediately the pool filled with spirit lights of those captured as they thrashed about seeking an escape. The lich waved his hand over the pool and re-attempted to scry Malcor.

  The boy’s image filled the pool at a distance, but like before his image remained blurred. “Bring me two ogre magi,” the lich muttered.

  Moments later, Shiniba had them standing before the pool. About to introduce them, he felt a compulsion to strike them dead, and did so. The lich held the magi in paralysis. Their large bodies fell draining blood into the pool. The purple swirls pulled into the scrying image of Malcor and it tightened enough for the lich to see the many scars criss-crossing the boy’s torso and thighs as patchwork armor barely held together. “Shiniba, bring me the prisoners, those heroes of Ori. Also, canvas the armies and find me ogres, orcs, and others of reknown. Bring them to me here that their blood may be added to the pool.”

  At his command, his gauntlet levitated out of the pool and returned to his wrist. “Remove all the water before filling it with blood, and Shiniba - when the pool is full of blood, let me know.”

  Chapter Forty Seven - Eldar Genesis

  Daryx pulled back into Tania as the last apprentice fell and the last criminal died. Dar Reznor, head of the Guild and many others heaved for breath. Only the dread lords looked unaffected. They were not part of the chain. Daryx looked around and bowed to the emperor and his son. “I will need to visit again.”

  Alerius nodded. “Word will be sent for volunteers this time. My children are too law-abiding and well-behaved these days. The jails are emptied with this project.”

  Back in the mountain, as souls and bodies with broken minds came through instead of Daryx, the lich shrieked his frustration into the dark. One of the bodies had a book clutched to its torso. The lich pulled it to him and read the first page:

  “The brightest of the eldar created the world. In answer, the darkest created the anti-world. So that the two would never meet, the eldar who loved the world separated them apart and ordered the chaos therein into all manner of life, each with its own path of birth, life, and death. These cycles repeating an infinite number of times channeled the life of the world into the anti-life and created a current that flowed over and through all. Takhissis the Dragon saw this flow and named it the River and demanded that it stop flowing.

  "But, Creation refused and the River flowed for the first time defying the eldar. So, Her Consort Bahamut commanded it to vanish and it rebuked him by continuing to flow. Each in their own way, commanded the River to cease. And, it mocked them by killing their creations. Some said, “Here, lets us protect ours by creating a safe place away from this foul River of Ending. So came about the Gods of Good, the protectors of creation. Some said, “I will not be mocked and will fight” and so armies were raised and cast against the River and it ran red with the blood of creation. Seeing the torrent of death, they said, “We need stronger armies.” and they removed their remaining creations to a safe place to strengthen their forces. So came about the Hells. Others said, “Behold how sweet the River runs red, lets us dance in the River and call it chaos!” They stayed and danced and so came about the abyss and its hells.

  “But one of those did not dance. Alone he stood and despised those who retreated for safety, fought for life, and those who danced in death. This one said, “The River changes forever but my creations shall never die. I will freeze them forever so that the River flows over them and they drown but remain my own.” And this one became The Necromancer whose name must not be spoken, the jade god, the green sickness of death and infection that carries its contagion for power through the River and yet withstands the River. It listens. It waits for that time when it can freeze the entire River in undeath by baptizing the life and light of Tehra, this jewel amongst the stars of chaos, in death and freeze the flow of change.

  “Children hear me and listen. The River still flows in undeath but more slowly. Obsessed with locking chaos in its place, The Necromancer would only reverse the cycle so that instead of life flowing along the River to death, death would flow to life. Twisted by the abyss and chaos, the beauty of the Eldar and their free ability to shape and work with chaos would twist, as it does for The Necromancer.

  “Woe to the jewel that is Tehra, my home is empty and has no mother. My children weep in the dark and the beasts of the dark rend them even as the River slays them. For the aching in my bosom, I turned my head away from Tehra and prepare now a home for the children. I leave behind my sons and their Fires to hold back the dark and usher them to me, until at last I return to succor the mighty and enfold the fearful. This is my creed and so it shall stand for all time, for I am the Mother of Fire and chaos is my love just as each spark of life grows into a flame, and the flame is beautiful. I know you in the chaos and hear you calling for me.”

  A handwritten note had been inserted that said, “Give your soul gem to Malcor if you wish to join us. Whether you ally with us or not, we will help you and show you how to preserve your free will. Your soul gem is our security that you will leave our empire safe.” It was signed by Malyx.

  “How interesting,” the lich muttered. He had not considered his soul gem in so long that it took a moment to remember it was the same gem he used to capture the souls of others. “I remember…”

  The lich closed its mind and a detached part of him wished he might close his eyes. He went back to a different time in memory, when the world was new and creation still sparkled with the chaotic energies that rippled through it before settling into its this form. He remembered the dragons. They were the largest and most glorious of the Eldar, flying through the void effortlessly. In their wake, currents and eddies of magic had formed and into these, other Eldar had tapped to use and shape the chaos more easily. His hand squeezed the stone of his chair and yet it did not budge. In this world, he felt it crumble but the crumbling worsened the chair. It did not manifest into a golden sceptre infused with power the way he had imagined it.

  The void granted wishes and the lich had once wished for every and anything he could imagine, except that he lacked imagination. The dragons did not. They filled the space around them with sparkling and shining things, and sometimes even life. For every marvel, there had also been disintegration. The demons that plagued the world, he had dodged them and stayed far away from them. Except for that, he had chased every extreme of emotion and had stumbled upon several he had never imagined could exist. Envy had been hard for him.

  Not gifted with the innate ability to thoughtlessly control chaos like the dragons and some of the others, he had gravitated to following eddies and whirlwinds of power left by others. The grand entourage of those like him that swirled around and behind had slowly divided the chaos between those powerful entities that allowed it and those that did not. He had found himself following a dragon almost impossible to see in the void, but its wake rippled throughout like a tidal wave. So, even at a distance, the power intoxicated. A small group of others like him followed at safe distance, but close enough to avoid the demons when they had come under attack.

  Drunk on chaos, the demons’ forms twisted into disgust and sensing that disgust, he misshaped his form even more to create fear and shock in their prey. It should have been easy to fight them off, but one of the creatures grappled him and pulled him away from the power flowing all around. Fighting for his existence, he quickly began to lose power and then his fear-infused power, like a narcotic, began attra
cting more and more of the demons.

  Soon, he exhausted the energy he had consumed and began tapping into his own nature. Until this fight, he did not understand that nature as he had never feared oblivion until this moment. The original demon, he cast off where lesser beasts rent it to pieces and slopped it up. It gave him a moment to see how bad his situation had become. He tried to remove himself back to the entourage, but to no avail. Each time he tried, the demons fed on his will, his lifeforce, his bright desire for safety, and his growing fear. “I should have died,” he whispered.

  Then it had happened. Some other eldar, so high above him that it probably did not even notice, glided through the space of his battle. It smashed him and destroyed the demons in his way. Its passage spun him off and away and he drifted without form, thought, or cohesion, barely alive. Eldar draw their power from creation and destruction. The will required to cause such things shaped and gave form to the void and became the instruments of that willful intent. The lich wanted to live, to survive. Unable to create himself and unwilling to end himself, he pulled the last of his energy and created a gleaming light and then set it alight with the force of his desire to live. The cold of the void so far from affected chaos made him grow cold and it warped and chill-burned his flesh. That gem and the light therein must be the soul gem this Malyx had asked for as a token of good will.

  Chapter Forty Eight - The Pha Rannic Knights

  In the throne room, he opened his eyes – rather made them work and looked at the blue gray cold leather that enwrapped his hands. He summoned an ogre and said simply, “I am going to Ori. Ensure the war bands attack but do not kill more than half the parties. If they appear formidable, use the undead and the goblins.” The lich walked away into the dark and reappeared at the southern gate of Ori. The moon had just risen and its light sparkled down around him. Unlike the bright sun that burned, this moonlight felt wonderful. He removed his helmet and looked up at the soft disk, ignoring the commotion his appearance caused.