by Jeff Inlo
"It's still there, but I can't follow the spell. There's too much upheaval in the magic."
"There must be a way to find Ryson," Holli insisted. "Why would his body disappear?"
Jure believed he had an answer, but it was only speculation.
"Ryson was basically in two places at once. That was only possible for as long as Baannat's domain existed. If Vraya's right, that realm got pulled into Demonspawn. The border between existence and nonexistence faded. I can only guess that the magic of being a delver forced a reconnection, made Ryson whole again."
"But where?"
"Demonsheol," Vraya whispered.
#
Ryson experienced the total reformation of his spiritual essence and physical form in a single and surprising instant. He had heard Holli shout for him to return to the rock spire, but before he could leap into the portal, the gateway disappeared. The emptiness which surrounded him exploded with a near blinding flash of light, and he found himself standing upon solid ground.
His body and soul came together within that same moment. He felt the weight of his own complete substance, and he knew he had been restored. Despite the inexplicable turn of events, he allowed himself the briefest moment of reflection as he found the return of his body both reassuring and puzzling.
Instinctively, he knew he needed to be whole again, that if he had remained in a disconnected state after the portal disappeared, he probably would have faded into a wave of oblivion. In that, he found an ample source of comfort. He wasn't quite sure what power pulled his spiritual essence and physical presence back together, but he knew it had saved him.
Regardless of that acknowledgment, he could not deny a certain level of confusion. He had done nothing himself. He had failed to reach the portal before it closed, of that he was sure. His body should have remained on the high plateau, and his spirit should have still been in Baannat's domain.
Neither was the case. Ryson knew he was not standing anywhere near the rock tower of the dark lands, nor was he stuck in the endless void of nonexistence. When his full substance was reformed, he was placed in an area unknown to him.
He remained mostly still, only allowing for a small turn to check his flank. He may not have been as diligent as an elf guard, but as a delver, he knew the importance of knowing his surroundings.
Realizing he faced an inexplicable turn of events, his senses came alive. He could still feel the effects of Vraya's shadow spell, and he wished it could be removed. He knew everything around him was bleak and grim, but the shadow which fell over his entire being accented the dreariness of the strange grounds.
Despite the heaviness of the gloom filling his consciousness, he fought through the haze to see, smell, and hear things as clearly as possible. His desire as a delver, the will to uncover every mystery, overwhelmed the effects of Vraya's casting. Intuitively, he reached out with all his senses and grasped at any scrap of information which would help him determine exactly where he was and how he got there.
He smelled the air, scanned the grounds, and listened for every sound. There was something vaguely familiar about each quality, but he remained certain he was in a place he had never previously visited.
It was the sky which caught his immediate attention. It offered light, but Ryson could not comprehend how. It appeared like a drab canopy devoid of a sun, a moon, or stars. Worse, it reminded him of Baannat's empty realm. If forced to guess, Ryson would have assumed the dismal lands he walked upon had been swallowed by an emptiness comparable to the slink ghoul's sanctuary.
A dim and dreary light was the only thing which seemed to exist in the vast void, but Ryson believed the light was only a mere reflection. It was as if every small illumination was pulled up and trapped in the hollow heavens and reflected back down to the ground. The faint glow served to do nothing more than simulate the existence of a sky in an otherwise dank sea of nothingness.
The dreary state of the heavens was accented by a numbing chill which filled the air. There was no wind, no rush of a breeze across his face. Along with being cold, the air was bone dry and thin as a whisper in an empty closet.
The terrain was odd as well. It was something he knew he had never experienced before. Portions appeared like the Lacobian Desert, but instead of tan sand, the ground was made up of gray grit. Mixed through the dunes of ash was a shattered landscape very similar to the harsh terrain which bordered the desert back in Uton. There were ravines and canyons of broken and battered stone.
There were no mountains in the distance, only fractured hills and steep mounds. There were large and seemingly heavy rocks scattered all around. Many stood taller than his own height. They looked like black granite from a distance, but when he touched one, it broke apart like burnt charcoal.
There was an absence of trees and plants. He could see for long stretches and he could not spot a single tree; not even the tortured, rotting, half-dead trunks with twisted branches and sickly leaves which dotted the landscape of the dark realm.
Despite the lack of vegetation, he knew there was life in that strange land, or at least a semblance of it. He saw glimpses of movement far in the distance, so he knew he was not alone, but he could not determine the shape or size of whatever was lurking behind the rocks, under the shallow soil, or within the carved ravines.
He bent low to get a better feel for the strange ground, but as he did, he was almost bowled over by a swell of energy. It crashed into him like a sudden wind, and when it struck him, it erupted in his core.
As he felt a familiar surge, the delver took hold of it in his mind, isolated it from his odd surroundings so he could analyze it more carefully. He recognized it as his own magic. It was the portion of energy which was placed within Reiculf, the small slice of magic which symbolized his victory over the daokiln. Its return did not offer him any solace. If anything, it stirred apprehension.
The fear, which was only marginal at first, began to grow, nourished by a realization which darkened his spirit far worse than Vraya's spell of shadow. Reiculf had removed the piece of energy and flung it back at the delver in pure defiance. It was the essence of power which marked the delver's control over the daokiln, and its return altered the state of balance between the two. Ryson's unyielding belief that the beast could not harm him or his wife shattered in that instant.
He stood straight up and sniffed the air again. He placed greater attention on what entered his nostrils. He focused on every scent with severe determination. As he did, he noticed two strange aspects he could not dismiss.
A portion of the air seemed hollow to his senses, lacking in substance. It was remarkably similar to the sensation he experienced in Baannat's realm. It was, however, an emptiness which was not complete. There were strings of a depraved essence hovering closer to the ground.
He began to realize he had not left Baannat's domain, not completely. He believed his concept of the sky was accurate. He was still within the emptiness, but that hollow void had been filled with the substance of another realm.
The empty layers were woven in with chilled threads of despair. Faintly separate from wide vacant strands, a shroud of hopelessness became apparent. It clung to the thick pockets of emptiness and created its own sensation of a deep and unbroken loneliness.
As he pulled apart the scents in the air, he quickly noticed another familiar stench which had been muted by the interwoven emptiness. He sensed the painful signs of torment in the air, and beyond that, the unmistakable scent of demons.
He recalled his time in Demonspawn. He noticed certain similarities, but there was only a distant likeness. He was sure the land he stood upon was not Reiculf's domain. There was only a vague familiarity, a hint of the daokiln's overwhelming presence. In Demonspawn, Reiculf dominated and amplified the essence of his realm. The daokiln's presence was unmistakable.
Unfortunately, Ryson could not ignore the implications regarding the return of his magic. He knew it had been cast free of the demon lord. That in itself pointed directly to Reicu
lf's influence. The scent of demons also needed to be addressed, and the delver wondered how Reiculf might be involved with the surrounding lands. With Linda's safety at stake, it was a question he could not leave unanswered.
Remaining alert, he began his initial scout. If he was going to find answers, he had to start with determining exactly where he was and who, or what, was there with him.
He ran swiftly but carefully toward the movements he detected in the distance. He would not utilize stealth; that wasn't his strength. He was a delver, and he relied on motion. He did not race into an all out sprint. He would hold his top speed in reserve in case it was necessary for surprise or escape.
Rather than pure speed, he employed deceptive motion. He glided across the rough landscape and made several twists and turns, hoping to keep any potential predators off guard. He gave nothing away as his path appeared to be a haphazard journey with no clear intention.
Continuing to monitor the subtle movements across the landscape, he ran forward with extreme diligence and caution. As he closed on a shadow of movement near a cluster of rocks, he turned quickly from them and appeared to make a hasty retreat.
The ploy worked far better than the delver hoped. A five-headed serpent, a drahkasin, slithered out from its shelter in quick chase. The slinking demon believed it had found suitable prey, and it broke from the rocks in frantic pursuit.
Ryson recognized the beast instantly. The five heads and the snake-like body were unmistakable characteristics of a drahkasin, a full demon which called Demonspawn its home. Such a fiend preyed on lesser demons which it could find in abundance only in the outer layers of the demon breeding grounds.
The presence of the creature confused the delver far more than it surprised him. He knew he was not in Demonspawn. There were certain similarities, but the shifting gray curtains were nowhere to be seen. Reiculf's domain was an evolving tribute to past decadence, a virtual abstract of dismal history, and in being so, it was never quite complete.
Time was an anomaly in the daokiln's realm, and the delver had learned to recognize the odd waves of history. The composition of Demonspawn had swirled with unmarked boundaries, borders which were influenced entirely by the past. The most recent alterations could not completely wipe away ancient events, and the marks of history became blurred memories grappling for recognition. The grayness surrounding the edges of each layer within Demonspawn were a testament to the realms incompleteness.
The land he raced across lacked those unfinished borders. There were no curtains of indefinite boundaries in the distance. Other than the space above, the region was complete, defined, and distinct for as far as he could see, and that was not the overriding essence of Demonspawn.
While he could sense emptiness in the air and sky, it was in no way similar to the incompleteness he previously experienced in Reiculf's domain. It was an entirely different sensation. One was the complete absence of substance while the other was more of an unfulfilled promise. It was the difference between a story that was never told versus one with no ending.
With nothing else to gain from eluding the serpent demon, Ryson decided to face it. He pulled to a stop, freed the war blades from their sheaths at his hips, and swung around to meet the demon head on.
The drahkasin did not hesitate. It hoped to capitalize on its prey's misguided decision. The snake-like body continued to slither forward, but the five heads sprang outward in separate directions. It hoped to ensnare its prey in one of its large mouths by covering several potential paths of escape at once.
The delver moved far too swiftly to fall for such a an obvious tactic. He remained standing in place, allowing four of the five heads to strike at empty air where the demon anticipated he might retreat. Instead of dodging, Ryson attacked. With one quick slash of his right arm, he lopped off the one head which darted directly toward him.
The demon's severed head fell to the ground, bounced once, and then rolled to a stop. Its wide mouth remained open and its forked tongue twitched in spasms.
The other four heads pulled back and the body of the beast came to a complete halt. Four sets of blazing red eyes stared down upon the ground, apparently contemplating the impudence of such a brazen attack.
Ryson quickly took control as he spoke with unquestionable authority.
"I could take off your other four heads just as fast."
The demon did not move, but it did shift its attention from the severed head upon the gritty ground to the delver standing before it. The four remaining heads spoke in complete unison, somewhat like a group of algors directed by a similar decision to speak the same thought.
"You are undeniably fast, but there is something about that statement which rings false to me."
Ryson didn't wish to debate whether or not he was willing to actually kill the creature. He wanted answers, and rather than fall into a trap of mixed feelings, he brought out the one emotion in which he was most confident. He thought of Linda. His concern for her safety would become his priority.
"I wouldn't test that if I were you," Ryson responded defiantly. "I'm not here to hurt you, if that's what you sense, but I want answers, and I'm not about to walk away before I get them. Now, you still have four more heads. Do you want to get serious, or do you want to wait until there's only one of your heads remaining?"
The serpent considered attacking once more, but only for a moment. Before it could move, a second head hit the ground.
"You will answer my questions," Ryson said, even as he sheathed both war blades after his second strike. He could unleash them again in an instant if it was necessary, but he knew they would not be needed again.
Still, before the delver could ask a single question, the demon made a surprising declaration of its own. Right before it spoke, the drahkasin lifted one of its heads and stared off into the distance. It nodded once and then turned back to Ryson.
"Your questions will be answered, but not by me. I have been directed to bring you to the one able to answer all of your questions."
Ryson noticed the snake demon had become even more submissive, and it wasn't the threat of losing another head which forced the drahkasin into meek compliance. The delver knew a greater force had exerted its will upon the demon.
"Your master?" Ryson questioned.
"The master of all demons."
Reiculf.
The name echoed in the delver's mind. He had been certain the daokiln was not behind the attempt to reach Linda, but he could no longer discount the facts before him.
The Sword of Decree led him to Baannat, but the domain of emptiness was not his ultimate destination, and he had long since realized the blade didn't always offer absolute knowledge. In his hand, the blade gave him a form of insight, directional advice, but quite often, he had to determine the final conclusions on his own.
The delver's path was becoming clearer, and he believed it was a course he should not, and perhaps could not, alter. Following the snake demon might have seemed a dangerous proposition, but Ryson needed to find answers. He needed to know why he was brought to the desert and who was behind the attacks of the dathit and the doppelganger. Most importantly, he needed to define the danger to Linda.
"Take me to him," Ryson demanded.
Chapter 20
Ryson and the drahkasin moved swiftly across the grim landscape. As they rushed over rolling dunes of dark grit, through jagged ravines composed of razor sharp rock, and across wide plains filled with massive boulders, the delver noted the presence of other demons. While Ryson could not comprehend why so many took refuge in a land beyond Demonspawn, he could not deny the growing connections to the daokiln. It was further proof of Reiculf's involvement.
For Ryson, following in the wake of the serpent offered a horrid sight. Two of the serpent's five heads had been removed by his own hand, but only one of the headless necks hung limply downward, dragging across the dark grit like a long slender sack of rotten vegetables. The second headless neck was raised high. It appeared to be reaching for
something, perhaps believing its head might be reattached if it could just lift itself to the proper height. Extended above the other heads, it oozed out a gray slime from the open wound which fell in droplets to the cold ground.
With each step, the chill deepened. If it hadn't been for the lack of moisture, the entire region would have iced over. The ooze from the drahkasin's wound confirmed the low temperatures, as much of the gray muck turned to crystals when it hit the dark ash.
Upon reaching the edge of a great circular depression, the snake demon came to a halt. It nodded with one of its heads to the center of the massive crater.
"The master awaits. Do not disappoint him."
Ryson had no intention of disappointing the demon master, but his delver eyes cut through the distance and captured a clear glimpse of the creature at the center of the bowl-like basin. It was not Reiculf.
The creature was nearly as large as the daokiln. It was roughly the same height as Reiculf, but it was not quite as massive. To some extent, it appeared almost like an exceedingly large tiger standing on its back legs, but there were sections of its body which seemed out of proportion, too thin in some places and too wide in others. The cat-like qualities reminded Ryson somewhat of the slink ghoul Baannat.
"That's not Reiculf," the delver declared to the snake demon.
"No, it is not," the drahkasin's remaining three heads replied in unison.
"You said you were taking me to your master."
"And so I have. Rul Saattan is the master of demons, the lord of this realm."
"I thought Reiculf was your master."
"He was, and is, but the past has now broken from the present."
"Don't speak in riddles to me! Where's Reiculf?"
"The master holds the answers to all your questions."
The snake demon would speak no more. It turned swiftly about, never contemplating moving down the sloped embankment and into the heart of the basin. It had accomplished its task and had no desire to remain near the new lord of the new land. It slithered quickly away.