Kargaroth

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by Mark B Frost


  “But Calvin and the girl did not remain merely friends. She was actually a Saint of Vaelius, placed on Itrius with a task. The god had learned of the existence of Kargaroth, and believed its power came from the remnants of the dark gods’ souls. He did not know the dark gods were still alive in the sword, and thus believed he could use it for his own purposes. Vaelius sent his Saint to find someone capable of controlling Kargaroth’s power, and bid them to destroy Elzaniru. If the father of the gods perished, they could once again enforce their will upon the Veil, and therefore Morolia.

  “But the Saint fell in love with Calvin. He was strong, fearless, noble in nearly every way. Calvin returned her love, and soon she was with child. He wished to take her in marriage and accept the child, but when the Grand Council found out they would not hear of it. If news of the Lord Councilor having an illegitimate child with a peasant woman had spread, it would have created waves of scandal the government was not prepared to handle.

  “Reluctantly he accepted their wishes. Yovess agreed to take responsibility for the child and claimed to be the father. He was to help the mother until the child was old enough to become a squire to Calvin, but the Saint’s body was not able to endure the pains of childbirth. She passed away a few days after the baby was born, and only an hour before she died called Calvin to her and told him the truth of who she was. She pleaded with him to go forth and slay Elzaniru, else her mission would remain forever unfulfilled.

  “Calvin initially refused to obey the will of the gods, but he was never able to forget his beloved’s dying words. For the rest of his days they haunted him. Yovess raised Calvin’s lad as his own son, and the boy trained with Leprue. Yovess gave the boy education and Leprue gave him the warrior’s spirit. But only Yovess and Calvin knew the truth about his lineage. If I remember correctly, the boy’s name was Ferallan.

  “Calvin’s intention was to wait until Ferallan reached the age of apprenticeship, so that he could begin training him and become a father figure to him. But when the child was still five years too young, the Grand Council began to apply pressure on Calvin. They told him that as the mightiest warrior in Felthespar, he must train a squire while he was still in his prime. He ultimately consented and you, Atheme, were chosen as his squire.

  “It came to pass that Calvin could no longer stand to remember the words of his dead love. He decided that he would embark upon his ill-fated quest to slay Elzaniru. In her dying hour, she had not thought to tell him that only Kargaroth had the power necessary to defeat Elzaniru. Since Calvin was not aware of this, he decided it best that the sword remain with Atheme, in case he should not survive his quest.

  “Yovess swore to follow Calvin to the end of his path, so he traveled with the party of over a thousand men and women who boldly marched forth to see the Dragon King slain. Ferallan was also brought along, and for the duration of the journey Calvin was finally able to train his own son. The boy’s abilities grew rapidly, and Calvin began to feel a bond with the child that he had never taken the time to develop.

  “But alas, without Kargaroth his quest was doomed to fail. Elzaniru, angry that humans once more assaulted him, wiped out the small army with but a blink. Thus ended the days of Calvin, and the spirit of the God of Virtue was annihilated once and for all. This was not, however, the end of Calvin’s son. Yovess had taken the boy away from the battle before it had begun. After realizing the disaster the mission had been, he endeavored to return to Felthespar.

  “In the woods far to the north, Yovess and the boy were attacked by many wild beasts. In one incident, Yovess was bitten by a diseased animal and contracted a fever which proved to be fatal. Ferallan was left to fend for himself, and he did so. After years of fighting for his survival in the wild, he found his way to the Ducall Forest, where he met Atheme for the first time. Because you see, the lost son of Calvin is our own Abaddon.

  “Calvin’s death and the release of Virtue caused Pecoros to become aware of Vaelius’ actions. Unlike Vaelius, Pecoros realized the gods who had crossed the Veil had not died, rather Kargaroth still carried their terrible will. Recovering swiftly from his previous failure, Vaelius already had another plan to gain Kargaroth in motion. He had sent another of his Saints to the Cainites to groom a human vessel to wield the sword. Myris Phare had been chosen, and already dispatched from Cainis to retrieve it.

  “Pecoros made his own play for The Unholy Blade. As his most trusted Saint, I was sent to Morolia. I was told to seek out the inheritor of Kargaroth, the red-haired Lord of Felthespar, and tell him that the sword was a threat to his realm. Just as I was about to cross into Morolia, Vaelius attacked my Asterian self. He dealt grave damage to my psyche, and when I awoke here I was unable to remember anything. That is how you came to know Relm Sarin, the girl with no past.

  “What Pecoros did not realize was that Atheme had already sealed Kargaroth away so that it could never be retrieved. My presence here changed that. Relm’s teachings from Kinguin, combined with my powers as a Saint, allowed me to accidentally devise a method by which Kargaroth could be freed. The sword went to Abaddon, and what Atheme has called the Hell Knight was born. Abaddon was the perfect host for the sword, because his unique mysticism and divine history allowed the dark gods to merge with him in a way no other owner of the sword had ever before.

  “And that is where we now stand.”

  Chapter 28.

  The Paths We Will Walk

  As Atheme sat absorbing the information he had just been given, Cildar was the first in the room to react. “Wait,” the paladin said, waving his hands. “Are you telling me that this sword not only has the power of a god, but the power of eight gods?”

  “Yes,” Serene responded. “Abaddon’s present recovery speaks to this, as it represents the intervention of the God of Death.”

  Cildar rubbed the back of his head. “So Myris was right.”

  “I thought you said we could trust Myris,” Kulara prompted.

  “We can,” the Dragoon insisted. “I’ve tested his loyalty myself.” He looked sheepishly around the room. “I offered him Kargaroth. I told him if he cared more about it than Felthespar, he could take it and leave. He refused the offer. He is one of us, first and foremost.”

  The Lord Councilor looked up and narrowed his eyes. “If I didn’t have bigger concerns right now, we’d have a long talk about this.” He looked back to Aveni. “Cardinal, what do you make of this? If we’re to believe Serene, then Pecoros is not our creator, nor even a deity that watches over and protects us. He is no more than a childish youth of a god, every bit as petty as humans. Do we accept this? Doesn’t it undermine everything the Church stands for?”

  Aveni did not look up from where he tended Atheme’s wounds. “Even when we do not like it, we must embrace the truth when it is presented to us. From my experiences with Serene over the past several days, I have found no evidence she is anything other than what she claims to be. Yet, what matters about the Church is not the fables and mythos that it presents to the public, but rather the ideology. If we confess that we were wrong in our teachings of Pecoros, we would lose credibility and the people would no longer hear us. So while we must accept what Serene tells us, there is no reason to spread it beyond this room. The Church will teach as it always has. Do you not agree, madam?”

  She nodded. “It took many centuries for the Church to establish the strength it has now. Besides, Atheme, I believe you judge our Lord Pecoros too harshly. Even if younger than you have believed, he is a wise and noble being, worthy of our worship and faith. But there is a more pressing matter in this. In Abaddon’s hands, Kargaroth has the power to destroy everything. Morolia, Asteria, Elysium and Gehenna, no creature in any of the four planes has the power to defeat it. We cannot allow the Hell Knight to return, even if it means Abaddon’s death.”

  Atheme turned to Kulara and Cildar. “What do you two think? Kill Abaddon to save the world?”

  The General smiled. “What, are we voting? Or does this fall under my discretio
n, since we’re still under martial law?”

  “We can table the matter for now,” Cildar offered. “We haven’t discussed the situation in depth yet. There’s bound to be another solution if we look hard enough. This isn’t the time for rash decisions.”

  Serene stared at them and shook her head slowly, her mouth agape. “This isn’t the time for rash decisions? This is the only time for rash decisions! Do you people understand what I’m telling you? The end of the world is literally at hand! We have an opportunity to stop it and we have to take it. You can’t pass on this and hope you figure something else out!”

  Aveni took a step away from Atheme and gave a nod, signaling that he was fit to move about again. The Lord Councilor rose and motioned for Serene to have a seat in his stead. “That’s enough, Miss Serene. We understand you are a messenger from Pecoros, but it sounds to me that the gods are no more fit to handle this situation than we are. We will determine how to proceed in our own way, and you must decide if you stand with us, or remain loyal only to the god you serve.”

  She took a seat and bit her lip, but offered no immediate response. Atheme did not pressure her further, but instead turned back to the two soldiers. “Kulara, you mentioned that we’re still under martial law.”

  “Aye. The Military Council, with Cildar acting as our seventh, has remained in command since you departed for Jegan. Abaddon debriefed us on the Revian invasion, so we have more information on them for the next assault.”

  “Revian won’t be an issue anymore,” Atheme corrected. “The Hell Knight wiped them out.”

  “What do you mean?” the paladin asked. “You mean he drove back their front lines? They could still regroup.”

  “No, you don’t understand. He wiped them out,” he repeated slowly. “Every man, woman, and child that was once a citizen of Revian is now dead. Their country is a barren, lifeless wasteland. That is all Abaddon left behind.”

  “The two of you were gone for only a few days,” Cildar continued to argue. “Such a thing is not possible!”

  “Everything Serene says about Kargaroth’s power is true. If anything, it’s even beyond that. Revian has learned this the hard way. We must make certain we do not do the same.”

  The incredulous soldier stared at the sword. As he thought of himself carrying it across his back, and even offering it to Myris, he began shiver in fear. He moved across the room and was forced to take a seat, placing his head into his hands.

  Atheme continued his discussion with the General. “The war with the former nation of Revian is over. It seems instead we will be having a run in with our old friends the Cainites. I’m going to leave it to you to decide whether you wish to maintain martial law or restore authority to a partial Grand Council.” He glanced over at the bed. “Abaddon and myself will not be rejoining the Council for some time.”

  Kulara gave a bow. “I’ll take Felthespar’s safety upon my own shoulders. Don’t you worry about her any further.”

  Atheme smiled and returned the bow. “I will do my best. If you decide to restore authority to the Council, Leprue can resume duties as Lord Councilor. He still knows the system as well as anyone. As a starting point, it sounds like you need to determine whether or not we can rely on Myris Phare for information.”

  After a few more moments of conversation, Cildar and Kulara bowed again and headed out. Atheme turned to where Serene still sat mulling. He walked over and knelt down, reaching up and taking her hand into his own. “Relm, for two years you’ve stood by me, and I by you. I know that you’ve remembered your past life, but that doesn’t erase who you’ve become. Now I have to know, are you still going to stand by me when I need you most?”

  She looked up at him with a confused expression on her face. “You don’t understand what you’re asking of me. I exist only by the grace of Lord Pecoros. If I betray his trust in me, then I may not be allowed to return to Asteria. For me, making my own decisions means death. It is hard to accept death when you have lived as an immortal for so many centuries.”

  “I cannot ask anything of you. I can only tell you where you stand. Whether it is easy or not, you must choose your path.”

  She slipped forward and fell into his arms. “I promised that I would never leave your side. I won’t break that promise. I place my faith in you.”

  Atheme eased her back into the chair and rose to his feet, then gave her a soft kiss and a smile before turning to Aveni.

  “Now, Lord Cardinal, for the matter at hand. What do we do about the possessed Daemon?”

  The priest walked over to the bed and once again scanned Abaddon’s body. “He is mostly healed now and could awaken at any moment. Whatever we do next, we have but a short time to decide.”

  “Even when the two of them are not touching,” Atheme theorized, “the sword has some sort of spiritual connection to him. But that connection isn’t without limitations. The sword wasn’t able to start reviving Abaddon until it was proximate to him.”

  “Yes,” Aveni agreed, “the sword’s power has to be able to reach him to link to his spirit. I can certainly sever a link such as that, but the spirits of the sword are far too powerful for me to contend with. If we could separate Abaddon from the sword for a small amount of time, I could craft a barrier inside of him that would allow him to resist the sword’s influence. Perhaps we could carry the sword to the other side of the city once more?”

  Atheme shook his head. “We don’t know what the range of its magic is, especially now that Abaddon is growing stronger. Additionally, we don’t know how intertwined they actually are. If there’s some sort of codependency between them, breaking the link in that manner could be harmful. I think we need to get him to break free of the sword himself. Relm, is that possible?”

  She rubbed her face with her hands as she answered, “I’m uncertain. Normally I would argue that once possessed by the sword a person is forever lost, but Abaddon has a peculiar divine heritage. His potential makes him an exception to any rule.”

  “Then there is still hope,” he said confidently. “Aveni, allow him to awaken.”

  The priest stepped away from the bed, careful not to touch the sword on the ground, and had a seat on a bench. Atheme remained standing, and together the three waited silently until Abaddon regained consciousness.

  For several minutes there was no movement at all. Gradually Abaddon began taking deeper breaths, and finally his eyes opened. He sat up and looked at everyone in turn with black eyes. Serene whimpered as those eyes focused on her, but Atheme and Aveni gave no response.

  His eyes finally settled on the Lord Councilor, and he stood slowly. “One more time, then?” he said with a deep voice that filled the room.

  Atheme stepped forward slowly and placed a hand on the big man’s shoulder. “No more, Abaddon. It’s okay. You’re home now. We’ve come home.”

  He grimaced and hunched over slightly, reaching out and leaning on his friend’s shoulder for support. Atheme leaned in and braced him, helping him to stand.

  “You don’t have to fight anymore,” he continued. “I’m okay now, and Revian has been defeated. Felthespar’s safe. Everything’s alright.”

  “Everything,” Abaddon repeated weakly, his voice diminished to its normal tone. Slowly, his eyes began to lighten, changing to a dark blue. “I’m tired, Atheme. And confused.”

  “I know. But that’s okay. You trust me, right? I need your help for a minute. Can you help me?”

  He nodded slowly. “I am loyal to my Lord Councilor.”

  “I’m not your Lord Councilor, Abaddon. I am your friend.”

  He turned and looked to Atheme, gritting his teeth as he struggled to control his thoughts. “I know.”

  “I need a favor, that’s all. Just for a moment, I need you to separate yourself from the sword. Can you do that?”

  “There are so many voices,” he answered. “They’re so loud.”

  Serene drew in a deep breath. “The gods,” she whispered.

  Atheme ignored her
and responded to Abaddon. “Just listen to mine. Listen to me. I need you to separate from Kargaroth. Do you know how to do that?”

  “The sword is part of me,” he responded. “You’re asking me to cut off my arm. It’s not the sword, it’s the voices. I must stop the voices!”

  “No! Listen to me. The sword, can you separate yourself from it?”

  “I can. But I need the sword. Kargaroth and I are one. It’s the voices—”

  He repeated himself once more, speaking slowly. “Separate from the sword, Abaddon.”

  The man looked at him again in confusion, then nodded sadly. He bent down to pick up Kargaroth. He lifted it carefully, holding it with both hands, and brought the hilt to his forehead. Atheme stepped to the side and kept a hand on his shoulder, hoping the physical contact might keep him grounded. Abaddon’s face contorted through painful expressions, and finally he let out a soft grunt of pain as a visibly dark cloud shimmered through his body and into Kargaroth. After this, he let it drop onto the ground with a loud clang and fell back onto the bed, his eyes rolling up into his head.

  Aveni quickly hurried across the room and began casting white magic. “He has severed the link. I can now work on a defense to prevent it from being restored, but he’s going into convulsions. That has to be taken care of as well. We have to act quickly. Atheme, get him turned around on the bed. Lady Serene, I could use your assistance.”

  It was a long struggle for the two healers, but two hours later Aveni announced that Abaddon was well and the barrier in place. Serene had used her divine magic to improve upon the idea, and they believed now he could more easily resist Kargaroth’s influence.

  For the first time in as long as he could remember, Atheme Tethen felt a wave of relief spread over him. His muscles relaxed, his shoulders loosened, and a soft smile grew on his face.

 

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