Another image appeared suddenly, this one of a red-haired woman whose nose had the tiniest dusting of freckles. She smiled.
And Kaerion knew with sudden clarity that there were things he didn’t want to forget. Ever. Majandra had taught him how to live again. Inthe shelter of her arms, he had relearned the power of forgiveness and trust. And he saw now that pain and grief could be gifts, their presence a reminder of exactly how precious are the things that we have lost.
No. He didn’t want to forget his pain at all.
Shaking his head, Kaerion ignored the voice. It’s dulcettones transforming into shrieks of fury at his actions. He tried to pull back from the hole and the darkness that flowed out of it like burnt molasses, but he couldn’t The comforting embrace became bands of iron that closed about his armsand chest.
He felt as if he were falling from a great height. Above him, he could see the image of Majandra, growing more and more distant. Helpless, still reeling from his loss, Kaerion uttered words he hadn’t spoken in over tenyears.
“Heironeous!” he shouted into the darkness. “Help me!”
His world exploded into light.
25
Vision, nightmare, or reality-Kaerion couldn’t decide. He saton a high-backed chair, its carefully carved frame forming a canopy over his head, and stared in wonder at the familiar interior of the temple. On both sides of him stood the comforting mass of statues, weapons raised high, while a long aisle stretched out before him, leading out toward what he knew to be the richly appointed narthex.
He was alone-or at least it appeared that there was no oneelse in the temple. The deep recesses of the chamber held pools of shadow, though these didn’t give off a sense of evil. Kaerion breathed deeply, feelingas if a great knot had been released within his chest. In fact, Kaerion realized with a start that he no longer felt the oppressive weight of Acererak’spresence.
But there was more to this feeling than merely an absence of evil. Separated for so long from his constant connection with Heironeous, it took him a few moments to recognize the power of his god. It was like that moment in Rel Mord when Vaxor banished the demon, except the presence was less concentrated and more pervasive. It was everywhere, flowing through each stone and marble block of the temple. The very air hummed with the strength of it, and Kaerion wondered how he could have missed such a Presence when he first arrived here-wherever “here” was.
“Ahh, I was wondering when you’d get around to noticing me,”a light voice said from somewhere behind him.
Kaerion whipped around, startled by the intrusion, only to find himself looming over a young boy. Piercing blue eyes gazed into his. Kaerion’s knees trembled as he recognized the familiar face. Standing before himwith a cherubic smile upon his face was the object of his nightmares these past ten years-the boy he had betrayed in the dungeons of Dorakaa.
“W-who are you?” he asked, surprised to hear his voice soundso firm. Nothing was making any sense.
The boy’s smile faded, replaced by an expression of purestinnocence. “Why, you called upon me,” he replied, closing the distance betweenthem.
Kaerion shook his head in disbelief. This wasn’t possible.“You… you can’t be him.”
“And who are you to tell me who I can and cannot be?” the boysaid harshly.
Kaerion could feel the hint of power beneath the child’streble, like the sense of a storm’s raging power moments before it unleashes itsfury. He would have cast down his eyes in shame, but the boy-god, really,Kaerion thought with wonder-stood right before him, not releasing his gaze.
“Where am I?” Kaerion asked, not wishing the moment ofsilence to stretch on further.
“You are where you need to be,” the boy said with maddeningvagueness.
“But my friends,” Kaerion replied, unwilling to abandon themeven now, “they need my help.”
The boy-god smiled “Loyalty is a noble trait,” he said. “Fearnot, for if you return to your companions, not a single moment of time will have passed.”
Kaerion nodded, a little unnerved by the boy’s use of theword if. “Then what do you want of me? Why am I here?”
The boy said nothing, still gazing at him with those bright piercing eyes. “Why did you not call on me sooner?” the god asked, all trace oflevity gone from his face. Kaerion could hear sadness and a slight tinge of reproach in the child’s voice.
This time, Kaerion did hang his head in shame. “I betrayedyou-the child-in Dorakaa,” he explained. “I let fear for my life take precedenceover the protection of the weak and innocent.” Familiar emotions churned withinKaerion’s heart. This time, he did not retreat from them. “I failed you,” hesaid finally. “I was not worthy to call upon your name.”
“And you are now?” the boy asked in a chilling tone.
Kaerion had no response. Cautiously, he raised his head to meet the god’s gaze once more. To his surprise, the boy was smiling. “I want youto watch something, Kaerion-if you have the strength.” With a wave of his tinyhand, the air before Kaerion’s face shimmered, gradually resolving into animage.
It was the very heart of his nightmare. A young boy lay tied to an altar, while demonic figures cavorted around him. With a muffled curse, Kaerion realized that he could see himself in the image, emaciated and dirty, kneeling a few feet from the altar. He fought down a wave of nausea as he watched his kneeling figure decline the demons’ offer to exchange his life forthe boy’s. Tears were streaming down his face by the time the demons werefinished with their sacrifice.
But Kaerion did not look away. He relived every second of that event, recalled every sight, sound, and emotion, both through the god’spower and the strength of his own memory. Still, he found the courage to experience it all again.
He watched as the demons dragged his sobbing body from the room, but the image continued. He stared in horror as the boy’s bloodied carcasswrithed and undulated on the altar. Shredded muscle and puckered flesh joined. The boy’s body elongated. Broken bones knitted together. Kaerion’s horror grewas the boy’s hands twisted into claws, and scales grew upon his flesh like thickmoss upon a swamp rock. Wings sprouted from the creature’s back, and it raiseditself off the altar with a single thrust of its new appendages.
Kaerion looked at Heironeous’ avatar in disbelief. “What-?”He couldn’t continue.
The avatar nodded once at Kaerion’s confusion. “Yes, you seeit now. There never was any innocent boy in Dorakaa. You were tricked. Even in Iuz’s seat of power I protected you. His servants couldn’t kill you unless yougave yourself to them freely.”
“But even if it was an illusion, I thought it was real,”Kaerion protested. “I still believed that either the boy or I would die. I choseto live.”
“No,” the avatar persisted. “You sensed something was wrong,and even though you were half mad, you wouldn’t let Iuz triumph. Remember?”
“No,” Kaerion said. “No! It was my fault. Mine!”
“Remember,” the avatar said, and this time it was not aquestion. The god’s word exploded in Kaerion’s mind, and Kaerion did remember.It was a thing almost completely forgotten, a recollection buried deep within the hole that was Dorakaa. He had sensed something wrong, but his guilt at his own weakness had hidden this from him.
“If I didn’t fail you, then why have I not sensed you thesepast years?” Kaerion did not know whether to shout or cry. He was a tangle ofemotions, both new and old.
“My son,” the avatar said in a child’s kind voice, “youthought that you escaped Dorakaa, but you have carried that dungeon within you these many years, refusing to be free of it. I could not reach you until you called out to me for help.”
“But the curse,” Kaerion said, indicating his sheathed holysword. “Why did you torment me with Galadorn’s presence?”
The avatar smiled once more. “You know the strength and powerof that sword. Galadorn chooses its own wielder, and not even I will command it otherwise.” At Kaerion’s blank expression, the avatar continued, �
��I never cursedyou with its presence. Had I truly condemned you, I would have tried to persuade it to choose someone else. Fortunately-” the boy’s voice began to deepen, wordby word-“the sword simply refused to leave your side.”
Kaerion would not have believed it if Galadorn hadn’t pulsedwith energy at that moment. All of this was too much to comprehend. He needed time to think things through.
“Time is what we do not have,” the avatar said, responding tohis thoughts. Kaerion turned at the deep, resonating bass of the god’s voice.Gone was the wide-eyed, innocent boy. He had been replaced by a muscular warrior in pure, golden plate armor. The man’s face was handsome, and nobility andstrength flowed from every pore.
“Will you serve me?” the Arch Paladin said, holding agleaming silver sword over Kaerion’s head. Without thinking, Kaerion dropped tohis knees, tears streaming down his face. In a voice far sturdier than he would have thought possible, he accepted the yoke of Heironeous once again.
“Then rise, Kaerion, known as the Whitehart, best andbrightest of my champions,” the avatar’s voice thundered throughout the templeand, Kaerion suspected, beyond the planes, “and carry my justice to the world!”
Kaerion stood, surrounded by a nimbus of pure white light. The nimbus intensified, expanding to fill the temple.
And beyond.
The light faded. In its place Kaerion saw a calloused palm, fingers hooked like claws, heading straight for his throat. He backed away furiously, tripping over a mound of gold coins. The avatar had been correct. No time had passed at all-which meant that he was still too late to save Majandra.The ache in his heart throbbed at that realization, yet he felt something else burning within his chest-the power of Heironeous.
With a cry born of grief and triumph, Kaerion unsheathed the blade that had lain quiescent for a decade. Galadorn burst into life with an explosion of white heat. The runes running along its blue-steel length flared with coruscating energy. Raising the sword high, Kaerion called on the protection of Heironeous. The blade sang with power.
At last, we are reunited! it shouted within Kaerion’smind, sending forth a burst of energy that knocked the monk from his feet. Already, Kaerion could feel the blade’s holy might pushing back Acererak’s darkpresence.
I ask your forgiveness, Galadorn, for denying you so long,Kaerion said to the sword.
There is nothing to forgive, came the reply. It took afew moments for Kaerion to realize that the sword’s voice in his mind seemed.. different somehow. He had little time to think about such oddities, however, for he felt the righteous anger of his god rising within him. Acererak’s skullhad turned from the battle and now regarded the paladin with a deadly gaze. Black energy shot out from the demi-lich’s eye-only to be swept away by a singlecut from his holy sword.
The skull’s presence throbbed like a cancerous blight to hisgod-enhanced senses. Everything inside Kaerion screamed for the abomination’sdestruction. Breathing deeply, he charged the demi-lich.
“Heironeous lend me strength!” he shouted as he drew nearer.
Slowly at first, and then with increasing speed, he felt the Arch Paladin’s power filling him-white and hot and potent. Every fiber ofKaerion’s being drank in the holy energy, until his bones vibrated with thestrength of it.
The paladin swung his sword with a cry, barely able to contain the divine fury that swelled within him. There was a moment of resistance-and then Galadorn struck the demi-lich. Heironeous’ power rushed outof him. Fueled and magnified by the holy sword, it detonated against the skull, causing it to explode in a hail of powder and dust. The roiling darkness of Acererak’s spirit fled with an unearthly shriek.
“No, you fool!” he heard a voice shout from somewhere nearthe vault’s door.
There was no time to explore the source of that voice. Glancing at his companions, Kaerion could see that the golem had almost vanquished them. Landra stood before it, bruised and bleeding, barely able to hold up her sword, while Bredeth charged in and out of the creature’s reach,slicing at it like a hunting dog might worry the heels of a giant boar.
Gerwyth had retreated a few steps and was firing arrows repeatedly at the monster. Several had managed to pierce its flesh, but it was nowhere close to being hurt. Kaerion ran forward, eager to bring Galadorn to bear on the situation, and was surprised to hear a soft whispering sound coming from the elf’s bow. He recognized the familiar lilt of Elvish, but, not beingfluent in that language, he could not understand what it was saying. He had heard Gerwyth speaking to the weapon in battle before, but had never dreamed it was sentient.
Galadorn’s influence must be allowing me to overhear it, hethought.
The golem reached out a meaty hand to grab at Landra just as Kaerion swung his blade at the monster. The force of his blow cut deeply into the creature’s flesh. Kaerion heard the crack of bones as Galadorn cleavedthrough its shoulder, nearly severing the golem’s arm from its body. Through itall, he could hear the blade’s triumphant song ringing in his head.
Another arrow struck the golem, lodging in the constructs throat, but that did not slow down its counterattack. Hastily, Kaerion slid to the creature’s left, raising his shield to block the forearm that threatened tosnap the bones in his chest. The paladin grunted under the impact as his shield bent awkwardly around his arm. He was about to throw the useless instrument to the ground when Galadorn shouted, Kaerion, behind you!
Kaerion turned but was not quick enough to dodge the attack. He screamed in agony as a black-clad figure thrust a blade deep into his back. Kaerion cursed at his own stupidity. He had completely forgotten about the thief that had stolen some of Phathas’ maps during the attack on the inn.
You are badly wounded, his sword declared-somewhatunnecessarily, for Kaerion could feel that the damage was extensive. The thief’sblade had sliced through his kidney and probably punctured his stomach.
I will heal you, Kaerion’s holy sword said, and thepaladin could indeed feel his wounds knitting together. Strength once more flowed into his arms. Kaerion threw himself back, unwilling to remain flanked a second longer.
But you’ve never been able to do that before, he said toGaladorn. This is new.
Indeed, was the blades only reply-and suddenly Kaerionrealized what was different about the sword’s voice.
Vaxor? He asked. Is that you?
We are here, came the reply. Thank you for your gift.
A movement off to his right stopped his next question. There, rising up from a pool of blood, was Phathas. The mage’s breath came heavy andlabored, but he struggled to his feet. “Kill the cleric,” he wheezed, andpointed at a balding figure who held a black object in one hand. “Let the othershandle the thief.”
“What of the golem?” Kaerion asked.
“Leave… to me,” was all the mage said. Kaerion was takenaback at the fierceness of his tone. “Do it!”
Shaking his head, he moved away from the deadly construct and searched the room for signs of the thief.
“Remember me, my friend,” the mage said softly, momentsbefore he lunged at the golem. Before the monsters muscled arms could enclose him in its deadly embrace, he took his staff and broke it in half. Eldritch energy exploded from the item with concussive force. The power from the staff’sdestruction beat against Galadorn’s wards, but the sword’s protective magicheld.
Kaerion ran toward the evil cleric, but before he could reach him, a red robed figure blocked his path. “This ends here,” Kaerion growled atthe monk, who merely nodded in response. The paladin lashed out with a diagonal slice of his holy sword-and barely saved the blade from flying from his hand ashis opponent delivered a spinning kick that struck the weapon. His effort to hold the blade securely left an opening for the monk to strike, and strike he did. Two vicious open hand blows struck Kaerion in the face, one nearly smashing the cartilage in his throat. Reeling, Kaerion could not raise his battered shield in time to block the monk’s snapping kick-which knocked him to his knees.
He strikes like
the wind, Kaerion said to the presencelurking within his blade. If I don’t wound him soon, this battle will beover.
The response from Galadorn was instantaneous. The sword glowed brighter for just a moment, and Kaerion felt his blood quicken as holy power increased his own mortal reflexes beyond their natural speed. He rose to his feet just as the monk launched a blinding flurry of blows-and Kaerionmanaged to avoid every one of them. The fourth time he blocked the monk’sknife-edged hand attack, he had the satisfaction of watching his opponent’s eyeswiden in surprise.
Not wishing to delay the battle any longer, Kaerion launched his own offensive, his holy sword weaving a trail of purest energy as he struck out at the monk. His first strike missed as the red-robed man danced nimbly out of the way, but his second stroke caught his opponent across the ribs. Galadorn flared in response as the monk’s blood spilled on to the floor.
Sensing victory, Kaerion closed the distance and thrust forward with his blade. The monk stumbled in his attempt to avoid the attack and, summoning the power of Heironeous once again, Kaerion brought his sword down and to the side for a swift, killing blow. Energy flared along the blade’slength in response to the white-hot power that flowed through him. The monk leapt to avoid the strike, but he could not evade Kaerion’s attack. Righteousanger and grief strengthened the paladin’s sword arm.
“For Majandra!” he shouted as his blade pierced the monk’schest. Blinding light erupted from the weapon, as Kaerion felt the powerful release of god-energy. When the light dissipated, he could only see bits of his opponent’s body scattered across the room.
Durgoth watched in horror as the paladin’s bladedisintegrated Jhagren’s body. In any other situation, he would have felt a waveof satisfaction at the monk’s demise.
But not now.
With the demi-lich’s skull destroyed and his own constructdefeated by the mage’s cursed heroics, the cleric knew that the careful plans hehad spent years building were falling down around him. He knew that his mistake had been in trusting in the skills of others. Even now, he could see Eltanel slinking into the shadows, and he had no doubt that the damned thief was in the process of skulking back to Rel Mord.
The Tomb of Horrors (greyhawk) Page 28