Oblivion's Crown

by M. H. Johnson

  And shadow smiled, stalking fresh prey.

  “Charde, hold the shield! That bastard almost penetrated!” hissed one mustachioed mage as another five chanted in slow unison, and shadow felt the ether bubbling and boiling. He would have felt horror at the dark infernal energies he sensed pooling before the mages, had Val been anything other than the darkness all around.

  The speaker’s eyes widened with sick fascination. “Yes! The summoning is working, the sacrifices were accepted!”

  Then darkness caught sight of the pair of naked girls who had been brutally butchered within a pentagram of blood.

  The night was the keeper of all secrets, and instantly understood.

  And it was not a young father’s blinding fury that sent those diabolists falling to near instant death as a crackling blade of oblivion exploded through their bodies, ignoring their panicked screams and desperate spells, but the force and fury of the storm itself.

  When howling fury had been replaced by icy calm once more, Val spotted the final cluster of men launching death at his manor. He heard their shouts of triumph as a monstrous roar cut through the night.

  Val knew time was running out when felt a sudden surge of vile energies upon his lands. A gate bridging not territories, but worlds, had just been formed.

  And suddenly a massive creature of swirling fire and blackness could be seen in the distance. It wore the body of a man with massive horns jutting from his bull-like head, stepping free of crackling rift torn through the ether before it snapped shut behind him.

  The summoned giant roared like a minotaur in truth, his eyes orbs of fire glaring Val’s way.

  “The gate closed before the sacrifices were accepted!” shouted one of the mages, voice carrying eerily in the growing gloom. “We will have to take some of those fools alive and try again!”

  Val grit his teeth, holding back no longer from what he must do.

  Clenching his fist tight as shadows boiled away to reveal nothing but piles of ash, the impenetrable gloom still hiding the contender who had passed dire judgement upon his hated foe.

  Death’s Kiss in effect! Your fallen foes have crumpled to ash! You are at full health! For now...

  “Starfall!” Val roared, welcoming the awful pain as mana, health, and Shadowmind were pulled from his form, catalyzing the most terrible spell he knew in lands that were very much his own, revealing to all his foes the final arbiter of their destruction.

  The farmost cluster of mages and the infernal hellion they had summoned instantly caught sight of him, bolts of death and fire thrown Val’s way, the jets of raw chaos hurled from the minotaur the most fearsome assault of all.

  Shadowmind disrupted! Contest of skills: L10 PRM + L4 EM Mastery vs Major Destructive Barrage. Penalty for directing Tactical Spell! Penalty halved for mastery: Partial Success! EM Mastery reduces damage 80%! 200 points of damage and 2 medium wounds penetrate! EM field reduces Medium Wounds to Light Wounds! (Should have kept up your Synergized Ward, Val!)

  He snarled, concentrating only in knocking the worst bursts of his foes’ hostile magics, primarily the minotaur’s, out of alignment with pulses of his will even as his body was scorched by lesser spells of frost and flame, suffering significant damage as he directed the death hurtling towards his howling enemies. At least the distance worked to his advantage, and Val was happy to let them waste their final seconds frying his flesh.

  Val smiled as they finally felt the vibration through the air, having time only for looks of horror and snarls of defiance respectively before being instantly obliterated by the red-hot meteor of iron and rock crashing into them at supersonic speed.

  The ground erupted with a roar, Val ducking with forceshield catalyzed as a barrage of iron shrapnel and stone pummeled into his defenses as the shockwave knocked him off his feet, for all that he was some distance away.

  Starfall successfully cast! Opponents’ defenses obliterated! Opponents have suffered Titanic damage and cannot be resurrected, as there is nothing left to resurrect! Death’s Kiss failed! Spirits have already departed this plane!

  Catalyzed forceshield catches majority of shrapnel! 110 Psion spent! Critical Wound and 200 points of damage muted to Light Wound and 20 points of damage. Armor absorbs remainder. Zero damage suffered from shrapnel! Save versus shockwave: Success! You have taken only 15 points of damage and suffer mild disorientation from muted shockwave. Song of Battle is active! Greater Regeneration Potion has synergized with PRM Regeneration. Full recovery in 25 seconds! Disorientation is removed. Good thing too, Val. Look what’s behind you!

  And a fearsome roar echoed endlessly through the night as Val clamped tight the dizziness threatening to tip him over, peripherally noting that Alwin’s conjoined ward was down.

  But Val had no time to check on the Christos mages. All his attention was caught up by the horror he had turned his back upon.

  The first summoning he had interrupted had not been stopped with the death of the summoners. No matter that Val had butchered the diabolists heartbeats after glimpsing the vile nature of their acts, the foul rip in the ether itself only grew as a hideous monstrosity of whipping tentacles, crimson eyes, and toothy beaks tried to force its way past the rift, tearing through reality like paper as it sought to squeeze its way through.

  Save versus horror: Success! Your enemies have successfully forged a Lesser Rift within your lands, their deaths serving as the final catalyst to their spell!

  Val choked back the terror welling in his heart, channeling his panic into words that actually made sense. “Alwin! How the fuck do I get rid of that thing?”

  No response from anyone at the chateau, and for all he knew, they had already perished.

  A ghastly shriek cut through the air, and it was all Val could do not to wretch at the vile sound.

  Duck!

  Rolling back as massive ochre-colored tentacles slammed into the ground, a dozen yards from the central amorphous body still trapped by the rift, but slowly squeezing its way through.

  “The fuck I let you invade my lands!” Val snarled, squeezing his fist and embracing the pain as Phoebe once more took her due.

  Staring intently at the scores of crimson eyes now oriented straight at him, feeling the Psionic tinges of its vile hatred for this world, it’s eager desire to destroy everything Val held as precious and sacred, as more and more tendrils burst through.

  Val’s bitter smile grew. “That’s right, shithead. Maximum exposure.”

  The air began to vibrate and Val’s eyes lit with satisfaction, only then sensing the presence of the youngest Christos mage, stupid enough to make his way out here to ground zero.

  “My lord, what is that horror?”

  Val hissed, turning around and dashing past the young mage, abruptly yanking the boy off his feet, and dashing away at a sprint for all he was worth.

  “Unhand me!”

  “Shut up and run!” Val roared, and then the shockwave knocked them both off their feet.

  Starfall successfully cast and targeted! Rift has been hit! Eldritch Horror has suffered Catastrophic damage, all self-sustaining matrices ruptured!

  Forceshield parry: Failed! Your forceshield has been knocked out of alignment by Eldritch Surge! EM Mastery cannot counter! Rift Mastery Check: Success! You pull out your dwarven shield in an eyeblink! Quickness Check: Success! You’re able to parry fast enough to keep the Christos boy’s head from being decapitated by shrapnel! And after he had originally gone to so much trouble to necrotize yours!

  Sacrifice made! You’re now catching 90% of all damage flying towards you and Relawin!

  Dwarven shield and armor have reduced 200 points of damage and 2 severe wounds to 100 points of damage and 1 Medium Wound! Save versus shockwave made! You have suffered an additional light wound and 20 points of damage!

  Warning, Christos boy has been critically wounded. Death is imminent!

  Eldritch Horror’s Remains have crumpled to ash: Death’s Kiss in effect. You have instantly healed 55 health
+ 10 = 65 health and 3 wound tiers! You have permanently absorbed Eldritch Essence! Saving throw versus Corruption made! Vitality and Strength have both permanently gone up by 0.2! Saving throw versus Hideous Temptation failed! You crave the vile rush of power now coursing through you! Like the most decadent of drugs, the sweetest of wines, the wildest of lovers caressing your soul. You now have a permanent -2% resistance versus seduction and enticement! Medium Wound is no more!

  A horrified Val shook away the voice, tried to ignore the sweet rush of power roaring through his veins, focusing only on the one bit of relevant information he had been given.

  The boy was dying.

  Val gasped to see Relawin’s dazed eyes were still open, swearing he could see grey matter speckled with shattered bone and gore, his left temple caressed by death’s shrapnel, and Val fought to swallow his panic, that awful certainty he had from battlefields a lifetime ago that Relawin was gazing at his frantically approaching relatives for the last time.

  “It doesn’t end here you silly idiot!” Val hissed, glaring at the boy’s jaw, tightly clamped shut as he began to seize, instead pouring an entire vial of his brilliantly glowing purple regeneration potion right onto the child’s exposed brain.

  “Season’s Mending,” he whispered, mercilessly clamping upon the boy’s shaking shoulders as he spasmed and shook, tortured by time-based healing magics that showed no mercy as every nerve ending in the boy’s exposed skull and brain blazed with pain even as they endured an entire season's worth of magically enhanced healing in the span of minutes.

  Val fought to keep the boy’s skull from further damaging itself as he buckled and seized, until miracle of miracles, the awful wound finally closed.

  Endless moments later, Val took deep ragged breaths, catching sight of Alwin’s enigmatic expression and Zelawin’s chalk-white countenance, having crashed to his knees, tears streaming freely down his soot-stained cheeks. “My son… Keeper’s mercy, that’s my son!”

  Val swallowed and nodded, gently putting the collapsed young man in his father’s arms. “I did all I could. He will live, now. But as to what permanent damage he might have suffered… I do not know.”

  Zelawin jerked his head with a sob, squeezing Val’s armored hand with a powerful grip. “I will follow you all my days,” he whispered, eyes blazing hot with his resolve. “I will never betray you, I will never forsake you, and I will hold your secrets close! For the man who saved my boy’s life in a world as dark as this… I will fight by your side to the final days! This, I, Zelawin Christos, swear!”

  Val blinked, shaken by the power of those words, tasting the truth of them, knowing no further binding would ever be needed. Val bowed his head. “I thank you for your words. I will do my best to be worthy of your loyalty, to ward all honorable wizards from the storm of death and treachery the Dominion brings.”

  And hesitating no longer, every wizard present kneeled before Val and gave their oath, a mirror of Alwin’s given just days ago, all of them smiling with pride when it was done.

  Greater Oathbinding in effect! You now have twelve more serfs to add to your coterie!

  All this occurred as the rift in the air continued to crackle malevolently, showing flashes of hyper-luminescent color and space that warped in ways so strange Val’s gut clenched just glimpsing it for a heartbeat.

  Val could all but feel the malice in the air.

  “Any idea how we close that, Alwin?”

  The older mage frowned before giving a small nod. “Between the twelve of us, yes. I do believe we could dispel it, though it would be no mean feat, and would require absolute concentration.” He grimaced apologetically. “Forgive us, sire. They used sacrifices.”

  “Which we will never do.” The twelve wizards present froze at the ice in Val’s words.

  “It will be as you say,” Alwin quickly said. “But you must ward us even as we try to clear it. And of course… please… it’s our lives if you were to strike the portal with your darkest arts while we attempt to abjure it.”

  Val frowned. “I don’t know any necromancy.”

  “The spell that slew the horror, and the vile Ormurs! Unlike anything I’ve ever seen!” hissed one of the mages bowing his head before Val’s gaze.

  Alwin nodded. “To find a boy possessing such ancient, terrible magics… I now have no doubt that you are destiny’s chosen.”

  Val smirked. “Chosen or not, we have a rift to close.”

  “Yes we do,” Alwin said. “And you must stand guard and face all foes while we do our best to close it.”

  Val’s gaze hardened and he jerked a nod. “So be it. And of the boy?”

  “He rests,” assured the father, pointing to his son wrapped in several cloaks beside him. “We are far enough away from...” His eyes suddenly widened, blood bursting from between his lips.

  Perception check made! More than just shadows stalk the night, a Val?

  Magesight peering frantically into the darkness, sensing nothing even as dark laughter poured over the gathering, a second mage screaming and crumpling as blood began pouring from every orifice of his body.

  “Quick! Link up with me!” Val cried.

  You have successfully used Spirit Link! Mindmeld failed! The remaining mages were gazing at Val with fear and confusion, but their willingness was all he needed, Spirit Link instantly forming with the surviving men.

  “We got a thirty percent damage bonus! Back to the keep! Now, now, now!” Val cried even as he slammed two ruby potions into his dying men before racing in the exact opposite direction as the echoing voice emanated from, hand tightly holding the hilt of his Psiblade.

  Psiblade has been knocked out of alignment by Eldritch Blast!

  Drawing his dwarven blade instead even as his wicked smile echoed the mocking laughter as a third man on his team crumpled to the ground in an explosion of meat and gore.

  For Val was now as much the howls of the growing wind and the crackle of leaves within the ancient grove nearby as the echo of a man finally locking onto his prey.

  Congratulations! Psi-sense is now Rank 5! You are now an Adept in Psi-sense and can sense the mental echo of your foes independent of Shadowmind!

  The darkness boiled in a flash of blue as a humming blade tore through the handful of men glaring their hate at the remnants of the Christos clan, two of their number whispering dark enchantments warping light and magical senses so perfectly that no mage could possibly pierce their visual wards.

  Even as Psi-Sense laid their position utterly bare.

  One mage was smashed off his feet by a shield he did not see as another twisted to scream before silence erupted in a geyser of blood, his head cleaved free.

  “No, impossible!” roared another, blinking in wonder to feel the sweet nighttime air caress his brain as the top of his skull spun through the air, mouth opening in speechless awe as he fell to the ground, crumpling in on himself as he was reduced to ash and blown away.

  A fourth mage’s panicked squeal turned bloody as he felt shadow’s piercing regard, screaming as dwarven alloy plunged through his intestines before being wrenched free.

  And then there was one, gazing about in horror as the night breeze blew past him.

  Letting loose a single horrified whimper as exquisitely sharp alloy was pressed against his neck, his arm holding out a desperately projected Synergized Ward yanked back, death whispering in his ear. “Swear to serve me utterly and forever, body and soul. To never betray me or reveal my secrets, to never move against me or tell any other by word or action that your soul is now mine. Swear this oath and live. Or keep your peace and fade to ash like all the others.”

  “I swear it, I swear it!” screamed the panicked man, stumbling to his knees as the power of a Greater Oathbinding flowed through him, clearly as horrified by his own euphoria as he was by the death of his companions, all of them reduced to ash save one who still lived, whimpering and pleading for mercy as Val whispered words of binding over the disemboweled man who collapsed with a
scream as alien healing magics were sent coursing through his body even as Shadow coalesced into a terrible being with eyes promising doom to all who crossed him, radiating danger like a lord of the Abyss, for all that he had the face of a boy barely out of the academy.

  Val snapped back into himself, chilled by how thoroughly he had absorbed the sensory impressions of the wizard gazing at him in horrified awe at that very moment, wondering if that was what it was like for other Highlords, and just as happy to do without.

  Val glared at the trembling pair of mages, both now bound to him, body and soul. “Are there any other mages seeking to end the Christos clan?”

  Both mages nodded in unison. “But they are at the mystic tower, my lord!” whispered the first he had healed. “We were the ones who were supposed to, well...”

  Val flashed a mirthless smile. “Kill me?”

  The man paled and swallowed, jerking a nod.

  Val shook his head with contempt. “Damned fools! Here we are with the whole Dominion eager to see the magic arts fade away completely, and you idiots are doing their work for them! All you had to do was join my cause, and you could have studied within my tower to your heart’s content!”

  Val glared at the pair of trembling mages before him. “What’s done is done. Come! We head back to the manor and regroup. And should either of you think to break your oath before bonds of loyalty naturally form…” He chuckled coldly. “You know what? I won’t say a word. You will get to savor that agony for yourselves, and I will insist that the other watches what happens. Somehow, I have absolutely no doubt that the survivor will remain loyal for all the days of his life.”

  Intimidation check: Success!

  Those words sent both men into desperate protests, terrified of doing anything to displease their new master.

  “Shut up and head back to the chateau!”

  Alwin’s dire glare as he caught sight of the two pale-faced and trembling mages spoke for the entire Christos coven, the Ormur wizards begging Val not to let the coven butcher them on the spot.