Doors of the Dark

by Gregory Mattix

  Nera extended her hand, and Lightslicer returned to her in a silvery flash. I wish I could do that to the damned necklace. She studied the huge ruby. Undoubtedly worth a fortune, it gleamed dully next to Alistor’s ragged boot. She glanced at the zombie’s face and nearly gasped in surprise. Alistor stood as impassively as he had since taking his place by Stolak’s side, yet she could swear his dead eyes were looking directly at her.

  Impossible. He’s dead—nothing more than a reanimated corpse. However, she wasn’t so sure, chilled by that undead gaze. The zombie seemed to be staring at her as if expecting her to do something.

  “What do you want of me?” she asked it silently. “If there’s anything left of the man you once were in there, then help us defeat this whoreson that destroyed your land and all that you loved!” She pushed the thoughts at the zombie as she would when conversing with Endira, which sometimes worked, depending on whether the mind-bender had a telepathic connection established or not.

  Alistor suddenly flinched as if doused with a bucket of cold water.

  Nera’s eyes widened. Does he waken?

  The zombie’s head inched forward slightly, and she imagined his gaze focused on the necklace at his feet. She held her breath as he slowly raised the spear shaft and, with a forceful motion, drove it downward. The butt of the spear crushed the gem with a tinkling as if it were made of glass.

  All eyes turned toward Alistor in shock. Stolak roared in mindless fury. Power rushed out, throwing Alistor to the wall like a rag doll. Nera could hear bones snap, and his right arm, holding the spear, tore free and dropped to the floor. The zombie was pinned to the wall for an instant before falling down in a tangle of twisted limbs.

  ***

  “No!” Fearing Alistor destroyed, Malek struggled to his feet, bracing himself to absorb more of the negative energy. He realized Stolak was vulnerable and could no longer draw on his flow of negative energy without the necklace containing the lich’s essence.

  As he once had while battling the Warders, he grasped the ties of Stolak’s dark magic binding him to undeath and tore it free from the lich. Dark swirls of energy peeled off of Stolak like great swarms of insects and were absorbed into Malek. His gut roiled from the sensation, and dizziness overcame him. He staggered but maintained his focus.

  Malek used the mana gained from Stolak’s energy and tossed a coil of force around the skeleton warriors, the nearest one only a couple paces from hacking Nera with its sword. He tightened the noose, and the skeletons were flung together, impacting each other with a brittle cracking sound and crushed into bone dust. The armor twisted and deformed, tumbling to the ground with a hollow ringing.

  Grimly, Malek turned his attention back to Stolak. The lich roared in impotent rage as, piece by piece, his undead flesh was pulled apart, the dark magic keeping him from true death unraveling. The pieces crumbled and disintegrated until naught remained of the lich but dust. His iron crown hit the ground with a resounding clang of finality.

  Blackness overcame Malek, and that was the last he knew.

  ***

  Nera’s shout of victory turned to one of horror as Malek crumpled to the floor. Somehow, she found the strength to crawl to him, nearly ten paces away. She ignored her sore knees, bruised from the hard marble floor, and put her arms around him as he shivered, holding him to herself. His skin was as pale as Stolak’s had been, and he was cold to the touch. His eyelids fluttered, and she nearly recoiled in revulsion at seeing his normally blue eyes filled with swirls of blackness, as if some type of oil polluted them.

  A few minutes went by until his eyes cleared and he seemed lucid again, but the recovery took much longer than it had the previous time, back in Nexus.

  He’s killing himself doing this! “Malek! Are you with me? You need to expel that shite from your body before it kills you!”

  Malek coughed and vomited some black phlegm onto the floor. He gasped for breath. “I can’t. Once I take in the negative energy, it poisons me. It can be catalyzed into my own mana, but the price is high. Once absorbed, it cannot be undone.”

  She hugged him tightly, as if she could take some of it unto herself. “You mustn’t do that again!”

  “So I should’ve let us die instead? He would’ve made us zombie puppets as well.” He chuckled weakly, squeezing her hand. He struggled to sit up, and she assisted him. “Let us hope that is the last time it will be necessary, then.”

  “You are correct. The price is very dear for us to attempt to wield the negative energy.” The words were spoken in a faint, wheezing rasp, as insubstantial as the zombie himself was.

  The two of them were startled, having thought Alistor incapable of thought or speech.

  Alistor had managed to regain his feet and was shuffling over toward them, unbalanced and missing an arm. He had recovered his staff and walked awkwardly on his torn ankle, yet he somehow maintained a noble bearing despite all that. He impassively regarded the dust to which Stolak had been reduced, but Nera sensed he was deeply pleased. His head swiveled back to regard the two of them.

  “You’ve done well… my son. I am overflowing with pride that you have grown up to become such a noble and worthy man.”

  Malek’s eyes widened. “Father? Truly?”

  Alistor’s mouth twitched into something resembling a smile. “Indeed.”

  “But… how is that possible? This destruction of Valirial took place centuries ago. You died… I read a page of your journal, but I thought… perhaps I was a distant relative.”

  “The Dark Lady keeps her secrets, my son. I imagine it is but a trifling matter for a goddess to preserve something precious, untouched by the flow of time, if she so desires. I assume this was how you come to stand here before me now.”

  Nera looked from Malek to his father. His true father, she reminded herself. That would explain some things. Suddenly, everything seemed to fall into place. Aye, of course—she likes to meddle in the lives of mortals. “Dark Lady? I assume that would be the goddess Sabyl?” she asked.

  “Yes, that is one of her names,” Alistor replied. “In her wisdom, she saw fit to take my son and daughter away from here on the eve of our impending destruction. I am glad she did although I wonder at what purpose she has for the two of you.”

  “Sister?” Malek asked. “I remember in your journal you spoke of a sister, yet I was raised by adoptive parents as an only child.”

  A faint sound came from Alistor, what Nera realized might’ve been a sigh. “You have no knowledge of her?”

  “I do not. I’ve never seen or heard of her whereabouts. I would’ve paid very close attention, had one surfaced with the same abilities as mine.”

  “I see.” Alistor’s words had no inflection, but he sounded disheartened all the same. “The Dark Lady set you upon this path, and your sister must walk her own.”

  They were all silent for a time, considering the implications.

  A question that had troubled her made Nera speak up. “I felt your eyes upon me earlier, before you awakened. How did you see me there? This ring should’ve made me invisible.” She tapped the silver band on her horn.

  Alistor’s mouth quirked in what may have been another smile. “I had my vision when I was slain, and Stolak’s ill magic managed to preserve my body all these long centuries. The glimmer of sight which still remains was enough to see you, and your touch upon my mind enough to sense your power. I see before me two of Sabyl’s Chosen.” He bowed his head slightly.

  “So you heard my thoughts when you destroyed Stolak’s necklace? Are you a mind-bender also, then?”

  The zombie’s head swiveled slightly side to side, vertebrae grinding audibly at the motion. “No, child. That was your own ability.”

  “But I have no such abilities!” she protested. “How can that be?”

  “Perhaps not that you know, but such things can be awakened in time. I was merely receptive to your thoughts when Stolak’s attention was drawn elsewhere, his grip on me loosened. I thank you for restorin
g my mind and giving a dead man some last shred of dignity, along with the satisfaction of seeing this fiend destroyed.”

  Nera thought to argue but realized Alistor’s words made sense. She remembered the sense of feedback produced when the Pale Lord had invaded her mind and she sensed some of his emotions—and the ease with which she could communicate with Endira. The elf had been surprised and had mentioned it on one occasion. Perhaps Alistor is right. I am changing into this Chosen that Sabyl means me to be.

  “Son, it pleases me to see you have found my staff. I would ask that you fulfill my request and restore life to the land once again, cleansing it of Stolak’s filth.”

  Malek nodded. “I shall do so… Father,” he added after a pause.

  Alistor bowed his head in thanks. “It heartens me beyond words that my son… and his worthy companion,” he added with a brief glance at Nera, “tread upon the path of the righteous. The Dark Lady has chosen well. And now, for my last request, will you undo this evil magic that binds me to undeath and let me find my peace? The magic weakens with Stolak’s death and will not cause you much harm to undo it. I do not wish to linger in this cursed state of undeath any longer.”

  “Of course I will, Father. I’m glad to have… met you,” Malek said, voice suddenly thick with emotion.

  Nera reached out and placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. She could imagine what he was going through. The great tragedy this noble man and his people, an entire civilization, had endured was almost more than she could comprehend.

  “And I as well, my son.” Again, the corpse tried to smile.

  Malek sighed before closing his eyes and focusing. Nera could sense the sudden flow of magic as the negative energy binding Alistor was unraveled, the familiar itching of her nose making her want to sneeze.

  Before their eyes, Alistor aged hundreds of years in an instant, literally turning to a cascade of dust.

  “Farewell, my son…” The words were a mere whisper floating in the air, and then Alistor of Valirial was no more.

  Chapter 29

  Malek and Nera slowly made their way out of the ruined palace, crossing the great plaza. The fog yet shrouded the city although Malek could sense it slowly dissipating, its spells unbound with Stolak’s destruction. They saw a few skeletons wandering aimlessly, confused without the lich’s control yet likely still deadly if encountered, especially in the pair’s weakened state.

  Nera was so fatigued she could barely walk, and Malek was little better off. He leaned heavily on the Staff of Preservation while trying to support her at the same time. They stumbled across the plaza, each step a struggle, having to rest every few minutes. After what felt like hours, Malek finally spotted the great tower of Valirial a short distance ahead, its height disappearing into the fog above.

  “I need to climb that tower.” He pointed.

  Nera looked up, face pale and eyes dull. A flicker of life sparked in them as her eyes traced the lines of the tower upward. “You’re mad. No chance I’ll make it. Doubt you will either.”

  “I need to try… I know what must be done, now. Will you await me at the base?”

  She gave him a scornful glance. “Where in the Abyss would I go? I need to rest for about a year, then maybe I’ll have some of my energy back. Let me fall right here.” She looked around and spotted the form of a skeleton shuffling through a coil of fog off to their right. “Never mind. Even though they can’t see me, I don’t want to get stepped on by those bony bastards.”

  “Just a short way until the base, then. If I make the climb, I can restore our vitality with the staff’s power.”

  Nera gave a halfhearted gesture for him to proceed. “Aye, if that’s what it takes, let’s be about it, then.”

  The twenty paces to the tower felt like miles. As soon as they entered the tower’s base, Nera slumped down on the bottom step, face shiny with a sheen of sweat and looking as exhausted as he could imagine a person could be. Malek leaned a hand against the wall, dizzy at such exertion but determined to make the climb. His robes were plastered to his sweaty back. Gods, this won’t be easy.

  “I’ll be back soon,” he told her, placing his hand atop her head, which felt cool to the touch. “Well, perhaps not that soon.”

  She mumbled an unintelligible response and pulled her cloak tightly around her. She put her back to the wall and closed her eyes.

  Malek steeled himself and took the first step.

  ***

  Power flowed into Malek in a torrent, drawn from the Staff of Preservation as it absorbed the sun’s energy. He felt renewed vitality surge through him, driving away the fatigue and cleansing the negative energy’s toxins from his body. The torturous climb up the tower was forgotten as his cramping muscles were soothed. When he felt fully rejuvenated, he stepped to the edge of the tower, his gaze falling upon the fog bank below.

  With his second sight, he examined the roiling mass of vitality-leeching fog. As he had surmised earlier, it was losing power with the lich’s destruction yet would doubtless remain for some time before it fully dissipated.

  Malek focused his power through the staff and directed it below, creating a cyclone that swirled the fog away from the tower, sweeping it outward. The sun’s rays shone upon the white cobblestones of the great square below for the first time in centuries. He tried to imagine what a shining marvel the great city had once been before its destruction, built from white marble with its graceful architecture and lifelike statuary.

  I’ll see the land restored to life, Father. Not much can be done with these ruins now, though. Perhaps in time, the portal can be rebuilt, and people will resettle here.

  His thoughts turned to Alistor, the father he had never known, as he made his way back down the stairs. He tried to imagine the man’s face in life. He was still amazed that a mystery he had thought would die with his adoptive parents had been revealed. It was unfortunate that he would never really get to know Alistor or his true mother, now forever lost to the ages.

  I have to be content with the knowledge gained and the brief moment we knew each other.

  The descent passed in a blur. He reached the bottom before he knew it, and his breath caught when he saw Nera slumped over on one of the broad steps, knees curled to her chest. She looked small and frail, skin pale, almost gray, and cold to the touch.

  “Nera!” He shook her, gently at first then more urgently, but got no response. He felt her neck for a pulse and could barely feel her faint heartbeat.

  Malek stepped back to the doorway of the tower, allowing the sunlight to strike the jewel on the staff, which flooded the small room with brilliant emerald reflections. He channeled vitality into Nera’s still form, at first a gentle trickle then a steady flow. As he watched, her color improved, returning to its healthy bronze color.

  After a moment, she sat up, eyes wide as she stared at the blazing staff. He watched her blue-white aura gain intensity until it blazed like a small sun.

  Malek cut off the flow when he sensed she was fully rejuvenated. “Feel better now?” he asked with a smile.

  Nera stood up, bouncing lightly on her feet and swinging her arms. “I feel a thousand times better. And the sun is shining!” she shouted with joy, rushing past him and out onto the plaza. She stared upward, squinting her eyes against the glare and spinning in a slow circle, arms extended as if she herself could absorb the light as the staff did. “This thrice-damned fog is finally breaking!”

  “Yes, Stolak’s hold has been weakened. It is time that I restore this land, as Alistor… Father… would have wanted.” He walked toward the center of the square, the heart of the ruins.

  Nera jogged up and walked beside him. Although she was quiet, he was glad to see her mood was greatly improved by the sunlight and renewed vitality, as was his own.

  Malek instinctively knew when he had reached the heart of Valirial, his second sight revealing a strange void where the earth magic would normally flow, as if a great reservoir of power awaited within the earth to be rechar
ged.

  He raised the Staff of Preservation on high and, with a cry, drove it into the ground. It slipped past the cobblestones as if they weren’t even there and slammed home into the ground beneath, driving deeply into it.

  The staff vibrated with power as he released it and stood back. He felt a subtle tremor beneath his feet and a sensation on the edge of his second sight he couldn’t place, as if the earth itself was reawakening somehow. He stared at the staff for a time, unsure of what would happen.

  “Look,” Nera said in awe, pointing where the staff met the cobblestones.

  As they watched, fine green tendrils crept slowly outward in the gaps between the stones, filling them with a fine mortar of roots. Tender blades of grass slowly probed upward between the stones.

  “So shall the land be restored,” Malek pronounced. He felt a sense of swelling pride at having carried out Alistor’s final wish. “Now, we just need to figure out a way out of here.”

  Almost as if summoned by his words, the ring of steel resounded in the distance. Nera’s dagger was in her hand in a flash. They exchanged glances and jogged toward the sounds of battle. Just before they entered the edge of the fog bank again, an avian screech drew their attention.

  Malek looked up in surprise as a black form streaked out of the sky directly toward Nera. “Watch out!” He raised his hands to blast it with force, but Nera smiled and raised her hand, waving him off.

  A crow pulled out of its dive at the last moment and landed on Nera’s horn with a rush of its wings. It squawked, happily it seemed, hopping forward and peering into Nera’s face. She reached up and stroked the bird with a laugh.

  “What’s this?” he asked.

  The bird made peculiar clicking sounds as it moved about. Something about the bird’s plumage was strange as well, but he couldn’t place it.