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Farael the Other revealed Its large, sagacious eyes and grinning mouth with perfect teeth and ruby-red lips in an attempt to put more at ease the starfish-shaped, clearly puzzled folk around it.
Well, what It had just said was at least true in a sense, and a very real sense - just not a complete sense, nor, necessarily, a sense that might make sense to angels or mortals. Farael the Other didn't like lying; it felt like cheating of a sort It didn't like. Was it Its fault if It was taken too literally? Poor angel - He wasn't ready to face the whole truth; would He ever be, really?
Still, the Others had at last secured Their stake in the Game, and about damngods time, too. The Vadrans, for all their superficial beauty, were brutes and philistines who could barely manage their own rightful realm, let alone their well-ordered disaster of an empire - and the Gods of Lights? Were they really any better? Some were, Farael the Other supposed, but really, They had no idea how this realm that They carelessly categorized as a "Province" worked, nor of its true potential. It belonged to the Others. It had always belonged to the Others. It would belong to the Others again. Not that They were completely unwilling to negotiate....
The great thing about a Great Game, It thought to Itself, is that there can be many players...each with their own means, motives, and hidden surprises....
There were two Faraels? The first Farael, the angel of light, did not know what to make of this "other" Farael, the one that looked like a smiling pineapple. He just wished he could personally talk to this WOT himself, instead of though a floating pineapple. It just made no sense.
"I know, it doesn't make sense," Farael the Other said, "but isn't that the point? By the way, I can read your thoughts, since you and I are essentially the same."
"I have had enough of this floating pineapple!" Captain Curnow said. "The golden box, Farael, what is inside of it?"
Rictus was the one holding it. He was very happy now that he had arms and legs again, even if he looked like a skeleton. He decided to open it, and inside was a gold colored bell and a small hammer.
"Its the Golden Bell!" Kryzbyn said. "Master Gynax gave it to us! Why did he do that?"
"I guess he knew what was coming, and he knew we would put it to good use," Farael said.
"Aye, but I have some bad news for ye," Curnow said. "The ship is badly damaged from the great wave. We need to stop somewhere to make repairs. I know an island that is a few leagues from here. I have never stopped there, because I have heard strange tales about it. Tales about the Expired walking freely, creatures from other worlds, and Vandans so evil that they are rejected by there own kind. We have no choice. The ship will sink if we don't."
"What is the name of the island?" Wynnym asked.
"I have heard folks call it the Jagged Isle," Curnow said.
"Hahahahahahahahahahaha," Farael the Other laughed.
"Why are you laughing?" Farael the Fallen asked.
"Oh, it's just that sometimes coincidences happen for no apparent reason. It's like someone was writing a story about this. Yes, the Jagged Isle is the only place to go, but you must know that someone evil will be waiting there. He will try to destroy you. Also, Farael, you will get to talk to God there. Well, at least one of them anyway..."
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(Bowing out due to too little time. Thank you, people.)
Sissyl the Seer wrote a note, and then pinned it to a whitehawk. She told the bird to fly it to Farael. The note said:
Bowing out due to too little time. Thank you, people.
She then entered the Wastedland alone, and she never returned, paying her "blood debt".
After two days The 7th Sea arrived at the Jagged Isle. It was well named. The coast looked like a land consisting of gray, jagged rock. Captain Curnow found an cove where the ship could set anchor, and his crew immeaditely began to make repairs.
"Aye, we will set a watch to make sure no one makes a sneal attack on us," Curnow said to Farael. "It would be best if ye go down below so as not to attract attention from that evil fellow."
"No, I am going on the island and find this evil fellow myself. I know what you are going to say, Captain. I just have a feeling that I am destined to meet him, so I might as well do it now. If he doesn't kill me then he might give me some answers that I need. Also, Farael the Other said I would meet God on this island."
"One of the gods," the floating pineapple said. "Really, there are lots of them. However, one of the gods is coming to visit. The reality around this island is thin, so the gods can come through sometimes. Also other insane BLEEP that would blow your mind."
"Very well, Farael, if you insist on going then I might as well go with you. Don't try to talk me out of it. My fate is linked with your's now."
"Me too," Kryzbyn said. "I am the wacky sidekick, after all."
"I will also go," Wynnym said. "My place is by your side."
"Don't leave me out of this party!" Rictus shouted. He was now dressed in the clothing of one of the dead crewman, so he looked like an undead pirate (Johnny Depp).
"I will tag along too," Farael the Other said, "but I can't really do anything except give interesting commentary. I may be able to provide valuable hints too."
"Very well," Farael said. He jumped off of the ship onto the beach. "There is no point in delaying destiny."
The rest of them soon followed, but Wynnym was wise enough to take along some much needed supplies.
From his home, which was a black fortress on a gray hill, Alzir looked into his scrying bowl and watched Farael and his friends leave the ship with amusement.
Yes, the vandals are coming, lead by a fallen angel. Come to my web, flys! The spider is waiting. You will all know the Terror of Death! Rise, my friends, rise from your rest!
With that call, the graves around Alzir's fortress began to stir...
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After all, thought the occupant of a lonely pineapple tree on the far side of the island, I'm just a mirror image over there, and here? Suddenly, I find myself busy....
"Ah, hello there," Farael the Other spoke aloud to a presences looming in the shade of the tree. It was barely perceptible, aside from the few jagged black rods piercing its non-anatomy in the proper places to form a rough humanoid outline, but just as angels and devils, so do the Others always know their own. The thing, more spectral than a ghost, was a zero-man, an elusive elemental avatar of a concept, of the number 0.
Since zero-men don't technically exist, they are usually quite harmless, but as countless civilizations across space and time have reckoned, the number 0 is anything but harmless. These impossible elementals are self-aware insults to anything constructed of ordered material, and in its presence, questions such as "what happens when something is multiplied or divided by 0?" can become matters of immediate and literal peril.
"We've newcomers on this island, guests" explained the pineapple to the zero-man. "Do me a favor and watch over them, won't you? Should you happen to run into Others, ask the same of them. They're...important."
The zero-man made a vague gesture upwards and drifted away to the other side of the island.
Along its way, it encountered a lone Vadran, one of several embittered castaways, mining a hillside for another miserable day's dinner. There was a strange sort of scream as the zero-man insinuated itself into the Vadran and he collapsed in on himself, like a deflating balloon or an afterimage fading from one's eye, until all that was left was a loose collection of small black rods, which hovered into a loosely humanoid shape. What had once been a Vadran had been literally multiplied by zero, and where had been one zero man was now two...or did two zeroes amount to a hundred? It was difficult to tell.
They drifted onward.
Back at the pineapple tree, Farael the Other, as It was starting to take a certain pleasure in calling Itself, pondered what next to do, studying the stars in the sky, the sand on the beach beneath it, and the leaves in its tree. One of the leaves shook violently, and a few grains of sand close to the tree's trunk stirred and whirled.
Far away, back in the Wasteland, there was another temblor.
What? Thought the pineapple. Seriously? Now, of all times? YOU AGAIN?
In the Wastedland, a shadow passed over the Pineapple tree, as it had done countless times before, only this time it decided to take a shape. It was as black as night, and it's body was lit up by stars. It told the pineapple tree, I am the Night, I am the Darkness, the Great Game has started again, the time has come for this world to be destroyed again. We shall start with you.
The tree barely had time to scream before the Night cut it down with one swing of it's Star Axe. The whole world screamed...
The floating pineapple screamed, but just for a moment.
"What was that?" Farael the Fallen asked.
"Oh, that, nothing really in the grand scheme of things. Just the start of the End of the World. It has happened before and it will happen again I am sure. A part of me just died, back at the Wastedland. He has returned, and He is bringing Death with him. Please, don't let that stop us from our date with destiny. Let's continue. The Zero-Man has made a sort of trail for us."
The Jagged Island was mainly just a series of ragged hills. It had once been an active volcano millions of years ago that formed into an island, but it had been dormant long before Men arrived on the World. The party followed Farael, who had a sense of where he had to go.
After walking most of the day, they finally found what they were looking for: the dark fortress of Alzir. It was built into a hill, and it looked like pieces of black crystal melted together by a madman.
"Are we going in there?" Kyrzbyn asked.
"I am going in there, I have to, but the rest of you can remain outside. I don't want anyone else to die because of me."
"Oh please, Farael, you know we're going in with you," Rictus said.
As they approached the fortress the noticed people hanging out in front of the fortress. As they got closer they saw that those people were the Expired. The walking dead approached them, and the party fought them back. The Expired were slow, and easy to strike down, but there were hundreds of them. For everyone one they struck down, two more took their place. Finally, Farael said, "ENOUGH! TURN AWAY!"
When he spoke light came out of his eyes, and the Expired screamed in pain. They ran away from the fortress into the safety of the Jagged Hills.
"That was fun." Rictus said. "I almost went with them, when you turned them away."
"All right, lets go inside," Farael said. The gates to the fortress were open. Farael led the way inside. The inside of the fortess had corridors and chambers made out of black rock. They checked the rooms, but all were empty, at least on the upper level.
"I assume we are looking for Alzir?" The floating pineapple asked. "He is downstairs, in his own buriel chamber, where he has a nasty surprise waiting for us. I really don't know what it is. Even I can be surprised."
They found a stairway that went down, and they followed it. It didn't take them long to find the doorway to the chamber, since it was covered with evil looking skulls.
"Listen, I will break down the door," Farael said. "I feel like I can summon the white lightning on command now. Whatever surprise Alzir has for us, I will take it on first. If I need help, then help me."
"We will be right behind you," Farael the Other said.
Farael summoned the white lightning and the doorway shattered. He ran into a large, black, circular chamber. At the far end of it he saw the necromancer Alzir. His skin was the color of night, he was dressed in white robes, and he was smiling. In his left hand he held a skull topped staff.
Welcome, Farael, I have been expecting you. Prepare to feel the Terror of Death!
With a wave of his hand the chamber doors closed, trapping Farael inside with Alzir alone. Farael summoned the white lightning, and it struck Alzir. He was unaffected. He unleashed his Fire of the Gods onto Alzir, but again he was unharmed.
I have prepared myself to face you, Angel! I am between life and death. I am the Undead, like my followers. Death holds no terror for me, but perhaps you fear it?
With a wave of his staff a black darkness covered Farael, and he felt pure terror. It felt like death was overtaking him. His eyes glowed and he tried to fight it. Alzir walked closer to him, and he touched Farael's heart with his left hand.
Now, for the finishing touch, I will take your heart and drink angel blood! I will make you one of my followers, and you will serve me for all eternity!
Farael felt Alzir's icy touch, and it did feel like he was about to die, but he heard a voice inside him and it told him what to do. He touched Alzir's hand with pure light, and it started to change. His ebony skin began to turn ivory, and Alzir was horrified to feel himself alive again.
"No! Not this! Not the pain of living!" Alzir screamed. The darkness that had covered Farael diappeared. Farael summoned the white lightning again striking Alzir, and his now ivory body exploded. He was no more.
The doors opened and the rest of them came in.
"Good work," Farael the Other said. "I knew you were going to win, but I didn't want to ruin the surprise for you."
"Thank you for that," Farael the Fallen said.
They left the fortress and started to return to the ship, but up ahead they saw a bright light.
"Ah, that would be your reward," the floating pineapple said. "You will finally get all of the answers you have been looking for. It's time for your meeting with your God."
Far off in the distict of Temrath, the armies of the empire were gathering. They were going to make one last effort to destroy the rebels who called themselves the Whitehawks. The defeat of Colonel Yzgal at Brinay had to be answered brutally. There could be only one response; the total extermination of every living soul in the district of Telatur.
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As Farael the Fallen eagerly sauntered toward the radiance, Farael the Other sighed inwardly.
Of course, if Farael's god really does have ALL the answers, SOMEBODY has NOT been doing Their job.
Then It spoke up: "Ah, Farael, one or two more things...."
The angel turned to face the pineapple, which bounced up closer to Him away from the rest. It had been doing that the whole time, really, rolling, bouncing, or just floating about - it was as though gravity couldn't make up its mind whether it cared about the thing or not.
"Firstly, it's been a pleasure meeting you in the flesh, but I've got to get going back My own way for the time being. The Game is very much afoot, and I expect it's about to get a great deal more complicated. Secondly, and on a related note, one or two more adversaries are coming for you. I've felt the power of one, and the other I've known about for a long, LONG time. Have you been feeling the earthquakes? Anyways, I tend to assume they each represent themselves and no alliances have been forged, but that's just me. Maybe I'm wrong. In fact, you seem to have a good handle on strange bedfellows, you might want to consider reaching out to your adversaries before they start reaching out to each other, lesser of two Evils and whatnot-"
Farael suddenly interrupted. "Constantly Choosing The Lesser Of Two Evils Is Still Choosing Evil." He surprised Himself with the instinctual authority, and even wrath, he had put into the outburst.
"Your Prophet Errygarc, I know, I know," The pineapple somehow nodded and continued calmly. "But the point is, under certain circumstances you may have no truly Good choice, and as another prophet observed, if you cannot beat them, you can always join them, at which point you can try beating them again because they'll no longer see it coming, or something to that effect. Finally, a simple promise: We will be observing you, and should the time ever come that all seems lost, you will see Me again. Pleasant journeys, Angel of Lights!"
The pineapple chuckled as it faded from sight, first Its eyes, then Its body, and finally Its eerie smiling mouth.
Farael looked up at his remaining companions. They said nothing, and so he strode toward the radiance.
In spite of the circumstances, the same question lingered in the back of His mind: Who do angels pray to?
Meanwhile, as His party looked on in silence, a zero-man drifted up behind them....
Farael walked into the Light, and for a moment he was blinded. His eyes soon adjusted, and he was surprised to see a normal looking man staring back at him. He looked like a Human male in his 40's, with brownish hair and green eyes, wearing a simple, white robe and sandals. In his left hand he held a leather brown book, and in his right hand he held a feather pen.
"Hello, Farael, it's nice to see you again," WOT said.
"I am...surprised," Farael said. "I didn't expect that you would look..."
"Boring? Yes, I can look all God-like if I need to, especially during the meetings with the angels, but most of the time I like to feel comfortable. If this were Earth I would be wearing jeans and a t-shirt."
"All right, can you answer my questions? Why am I hear and what should I do?"
"Yes, I can. First, you chose to be here to save this world. It was scheduled for destruction, but you insisted on trying to save it. So, I reluctantly allowed you to Fall to the World. When an angel falls it always screws up their minds. Second, you have to lead the people here in a revolt against the Vandans. They are sending out their armies as we speak. Their leader, the Dark Knight Lord Culex, is not a nice fellow, and he is also being manipulated by an even greater "Dark Night". The Night himself. He has returned to bring an eternal night to the World."
"I don't understand, how can I stop both of these evils?"
"You will find a way, my angel, you always do. That is why I let you come here. You love this world, Farael. You really do. You have my blessing."
WOT touched Farael on his forehead, and he disappeared. The light faded, and Farael was left alone. Before he could say anything, he noticed the spectral looking Zero-Man looking at them. Everyone turned to look at him, and he said:
Hi. May I join you? I might be able to help.
Somewhere in the district of Telatur Colonel Yzgal was repairing her crystal armor. He vowed revenge on Farael and his followers. She knew she could never return to the Temrathi Empire until he was dead.
In the WastedLand the Night starting to call his own followers. In the land west of desert lived a brutal people who were once Human, but now they were blood thirsty humanoids who called themselves Horken. They were more than happy to fight for a being who just wanted to destroy. The Night was pleased.
Far to the east Lord Culex was making his plans. His armies were gathering in the didstrict of Geddon, which was east of Temrath. The dark god that he worshipped told him what he had to do. His armies would destroy the people that had rebelled against him, and he would personally kill the angel Farael here in Vanda.
The doors to his chamber opened, and two Vandan guards carried in the Runecaster. The old hermit was smiling, because he enjoyed suffering. He was quite mad now, but he would serve his purpose.
"Do you know what you have to do?" Lord Culex asked.
"Why, yes I do, said the shrew. To gain my freedom, and my dream, I use my runes to make Farael scream," the Runecaster said. Then he started to laugh.
"That's close enough. Take him away," he ordered the guards.
Lord Culex had become the Grand Emperor not through his might, but with his mind. He always had the advantage in every fight. The Runecaster would control Farael with the runes he put on him, and he would kill him. He would make sure that the whole empire, and the world, will see him slay the angel Farael. Then the Night would give him his reward: he would become a god!
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"Night has fallen, Drake. You know what to do." Drake simply nodded, Ashkandor clutched in his hand. The Samsarans existed for one purpose: battle the Night, yet they paled next to Farael. Whereas the Samsarans were pawns in the Game of Light and Darkness, Farael could act on his own. And now their move was decided: The Dark Knight had to be sent to Farael, while his people covered his retreat. Already, Samsara was burning, condemned to eternal torture until they became more of Night's fodder. "The world hangs in the balance." Drake said, wryly, "The Angel, the Archer, the God, the Other, the King, The Zer0 Man and the First. And now, The Last Samsaran. I hope they have elbow room." With that, he through the portal, and Samsara died.
Now, the sudden appearance of a man witha skull mask wielding a scythe with a tattoo on his chest of a dragon might not startle you, but it startled Farael's little band. In the half a second it took Drake to appear fully in front of them, Farael the Other was ready to careen at his hand, Rictus was ready with Kelvar's morningstar, Farael with lightning, and the others suitably prepared for an attack. The man dropped the scythe in surrender. "I am here in peace, Farael. I am the last Samsaran, and I am here to serve you."
Farael called all of his followers together at the evil necromancer's former fortress for a meeting. Inside it's dark interior was room with a round, wooden table and thirteen chairs. Farael spoke first.
"Friends, I met with my god, and He has given me a vision of what we must do. We have a very difficult task at hand, and the fate of the World hangs in the balance."
"We will stand with ye," Captain Curnow.
"Thank you. First, let me lay out what is happening now. Lord Culex, the Emperor and Dark Knight, is gathering all of his armies in Geddon for a final assault on the district of Telatur. He wants everyone there destroyed due to the attack on Colonel Yzgal's airship. She is not dead, and we will see her again."
"Culex truly is evil," Wynnym said.
"Yes he is, but he is being manipulated by an even darkner being: the Night. As we speak he is calling on the evil Horken to the Wastedland land. Once he as enough of them he will send them across the Empire to destroyed all living beings, even the Vandans."
"Why would he want his empire destroyed?" Kryzbyn asked.
"He wants to become a god, and Dark One has promised him that," Farael said. "He also wants to face me in battle and kill me. He will face me, but I will try to avoid getting killed. That is what I will give him. While I face the emperor, I want the rest of you build up an army in Telatur to face the Horken. The Night will stand back and watch. That will give me time to do what I need to do."
"And what is that?" Wynnym asked.
"I am going to surrender to the Lord Culex."
*gasps*
Rictus gasped, and the others looked shocked.
"He will kill you!" Wynnym said. "You said it yourself. Lord Culex wants to kill you so he can become a god. You are walking into a trap."
"I know I am, but it is the only way. I will go to the armies gathered at Geddon. There I will surrender. That will give you time to gather the people in Telatur and prepare them for the Night's army of Horken. I have a vision that you will find a way to stop the Horken."
"All right, how do we stop them?" Kyrzbyn asked.
"I don't know exactly. In the vision I saw an army of the living and the dead stopping the Horken and sending them back to the Night in the Wastedland. That is all I saw. Please, friends, take what I have said on faith. You will find a way to stop the Horken, and I will find a way to stop Lord Culex. Let's not talk fruther. My mortal body needs sleep, and most of you need it to. Except for Rictus, of course."
"He's right, I don't sleep anymore. I'll stand watch outside."
The fortress had many empty rooms, so each of them could sleep in one. Farael spoke with Drake, the last Samsaran, and asked him to lead his friends against the Night's army of Horken.
"I pledge my loyalty to you, Farael." Drake said.
"Thank you, this world will need it. I am sorry to hear about Samsara. The Dark One exists on many worlds. That much I remember. I have a feeling that you will be the key to our victory, but I don't know exactly."
"I will take it on faith, just as you said." Drake said, bowing low.
Farael left and walked to an empty room. He laid down on a comfortable blanket and tried to sleep. He remembered that Captain Curnow said that there was a city east of the Telatur River called Mona. It was the capital of Telatur, and he also mentioned that the Whitehawks often met there. That would be a good place for him to part ways with his friends. He would miss them terribly, especially one of them.
As he drifted off to sleep he saw Wynnym walk into his room...
this sounds like some erotic fan fiction...
We leave Farael and Wynnym to their privacy. Our story moves back to the district of Telatur, where a recovered Colonel Yzgal made her way to the city of Mona. There was an imperial fortress just outside of the city, and there she quickly took control once again. She would get another airship and search the whole world if neccessary for the angel Farael. The fortress commander told her they didn't have one, but one could be sent for in several days. She didn't realize that he was going to her.
Far off in the Wastedland, the dark god Night watched the Horken come to worship him with great amusement. He had waited ages to bring Nightfall to this world. This time the Gods of Light would not stop him. He would first send the Horken to the district of Hathor, whicg was east of him. After it was destroyed, he would send them to Telatur, and then to Geddon, and finally to the rest of the world. By then the death and destruction would be so overwhelming, that this World would willingly accept Nightfall, just to end its pain.
However, he first had to pay Death a visit...
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This was not the case. In Farael's room, the light was turned off. As he attempted to start a light, he sat up. When he successfully found his lamp, he found the problem with Wynnm. Her eyes, were black as Night. "Fatebringer" said a voice that most certainly was not hers as she drew a dagger, "Do you know how futile your task is? The Samsarans were immortal, and battled me for millenia. Night shall consume all." "Kryzbyn!" Farael managed to shout as the dagger plunged toward him...
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This was not the case. In Farael's room, the light was turned off. As he attempted to start a light, he sat up. When he successfully found his lamp, he found the problem with Wynnym. Her eyes, were black as Night. "Fatebringer" said a voice that most certainly was not hers as she drew a dagger, "Do you know how futile your task is? The Samsarans were immortal, and battled me for millenia. Night shall consume all." "Kryzbyn!" Farael managed to shout as the dagger plunged toward him...
Farael grabbed Wynnym's hand to stop her from plunging her dagger into his heart, but she was given supernatural strength by the Night. He didn't want to use his lightning or fire to harm Wynnym. The dagger was getting closer.
Go ahead and kill her, Angel! I know you love her more than the others. I will just possess the others when she dies. You cannot stop me. Give in.
At that moment Kyrzbyn ran into the room.
"Wynnym! What are you doing!?" He yelled.
She momentarily turned to him, and that was when Farael remembered something. He touched her forehead and he said in Angelic,
I banish the Night from this woman!
Wynnym's eyes returned to normal, and she dropped the dagger. She looked at Farael and cried. Kryzbyn ran to her and held her. Farael looked at both of them, and he came to a decision. He was not waiting until the morning; he was leaving tonight for Mona.
He found Captain Curnow and told him what he planned. Curnow agreed.
"I will take you there myself tonight. I can use a wind charm that I have been saving to get us there by morning. Do you want to say goodbye to the others?"
"No. It will be easier this way. I need to leave now."
Captain Curnow escorted him to the 7th Sea, and he told the crew to get out. He could run the ship by himself if he needed to. It was just easier to do it with a crew. With the wind charm that Curnow spoke, the ship sailed quickly through the night until it reached the ports of Mona.
"Goodbye, Fatebringer. It has been my highest honor to serve you. I will make sure I carry out your instructions. I will fight the Night's army, and die if I have to."
"Goodbye, Captain Curnow. It was my highest honor to call you my friend. We will meet again, in this life or another."
They embraced, and then Farael jumped into the cold water of the Seine Sea. He swam a short way to the port. He saw several ships and boats anchored there. A city offical wearing the blue symbol of Mona approached him. He was an older man with a bad limp.
"May I help you, sir?" He asked Farael.
"Yes, you may. My name is Farael the Fallen, and I am here to surrender to the Empire of Temrath. I hope I haven't ruined your morning."
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Far away in the Wastelands, there was another earthquake.
It was no mild or moderate temblor like the earlier ones Farael had been there to experience. This was geological discord at its very worst. For miles around, the earth was a hideous symphony of shrill shrieks and subsonic moans as the ground split open in every direction, as though some massive terror far beneath were making an all-out bid for freedom at long last.
After all, that was precisely the case.
From out of the miles-deep canyon It had created, It rose to the surface with a speed entirely unnatural for something Its size. Its outline could be seen clearly from miles and miles away, and all It had done was stand up from Its long repose. It greeted the gloaming with a sepulchral noise that could just as soon be described as a moan, a roar, or some kind of song that further shook and broke the earth in its own right.
Its form was humanoid in only the most simplistic sense. Its gaping maw revealed only ineffable blackness, and the surface of its being - to call it "flesh" would stretch the term too much - was like nothing else in the world, like a perfect meeting of wax, thundercloud, and diamond. Its two arms were actually arms beyond count bunched closely together but each independent, and each one thicker around than most grown human bodies in its own right and a kilometer in length at the least. Millions of natural gears protruded from its legs, helping it scale the walls of its canyon and lumber to the surface.
It needed no name or title, at least not in Its own mind. It knew Itself well enough. It knew its enemies, too - the Night, the Pantheon of Lights and Their presumptuous emissary, even that treacherous "pineapple" - in due time, It would come for all of them.
Far away enough that the ancient entity's awakening brought only a moderate tremor to local attention, Wynnym felt the death of her ancient grove as it was consumed by the even more ancient earth beneath it.
She had not expected it now, but she was prepared. She had always been prepared to die with her grove.
But that was not at all what happened to her. She had not been prepared for what was happening to her now. Her muscles and bones convulsed beneath her flesh, and her mind reeled....
Where did the pineapple thing start again???
"What did you say?" Rictus asked Drake. They were in one of the many chamber's of Akzir's fortress. Kryzbyn was still tending to Wynnym. Captain Curnow was taking Farael to the city of Mona. The crew were outside making breakfast, because they refused to enter the fortress. That left them unattended.
"I heard someone talk about a talking pineapple? And it's name was also Farael?" Drake asked
"Oh that. Way over my head, Drake. He (I think) calls himself Farael the Other, and he looks just like a floating pineapple. This whole situation is full of holes, like me. All I know is that this World is in trouble, and Farael (the blue one) is the only hope it has. I may be dead, but I don't want the World to be dead too."
"Unfornuately, I saw my world of Samsara die. We fought the Night for a thousand years, but we failed. I am all that remains of the Samsarans. If it takes me another thousand years, I will have my vengeance!"
"Wow. Just how did you get here?"
Before Drake could answer they heard Kryzbyn screaming. They both ran to the chamber, and first saw him with a look of shock on his face. Then they saw what he was looking at. Wynnym was no longer there. In her place was an ancient tree...
In the Wastedland, the Night felt It arrive, which was unexpected. The Great Game took many twists and turns. Sometimes It arrived, and when It did it meant something more than just destruction. It meant absolute Oblivion. When this game was over, nothing would be left. Not even darkness. He knew not to waste time trying to talk to It. The only thing that the Night knew to do was proceed with his original plan. Then maybe he could deal with It.
He turned to the Horken who had gathered before him. They numbered in the thousands now. To honor him they wore black clothing, and they carried black axes that resembled his Staraxe. That almost pleased him.
HORKEN, THE TIME HAS COME! GO TO THE EAST! DESTROY ALL THAT IS IN YOUR PATH! NIGHT HAS FALLEN ON THIS WORLD!
The Horken screamed their war chants, and they began to run. The Night would have been "happy", if it wasn't for It...
It's massive form did not interfere with the Night or the Horken. They were beneath his notice for now. What It wanted was a location near the Wastedland. It was the Temple of Death. With a mere sweep of one of It's massive limbs, it created an opening beneath the temple, and it swallowed it whole. Everyone within it( who was still alive) died. Only one person escaped alive.
Her name was Sotiria Spiros. The destruction of her temple came as she was outside for her daily walk. There was no warning. She felt the presence of the being It, but she could no longer feel the presence of her goddess. She could only come to one impossible conclusion: Death was dead. Far off in the distance she saw the Horken running from the Wastedland into the district of Hathor.
"This is the End of the World," she said...
The old man at the port of Mona was called Leron, and he was in shock. This was the angel Farael, the one he read about in church on Lightsday, standing before him in the flesh. However, he was also a professional, so he did his duty.
"Sir, please follow me to the Sheriff. She will know how to proceed."
Farael followed Leron through the ports to the streets of Mona. It was a city in sad shape, due to a century of Temrathi rule. The people on the streets saw Farael pass by, and they shouted out praises to him.
"Farael! Save us! Praise the Lights!" Many of them shouted. As they passed Farael laid hands on the sick, and he healed him. When the crowd grew too big Leron became worried, but the people of Mona were not a violent folk. Finally they arrived at the Sheriff's station.
Sheriff Kharen was a tall, beautiful, blond haired, Human woman in her 40's. She wore the blue uniform of a Monite, but she always let her long, red hair flow down. She used her beauty as an advantage, but today was different.
Leron told himn that Farael wanted to surrender to the Vandans. Kharen said, "Of course, you are a rebel and wanted for execution, but in all good faith I cannot arrest you. I would rather die."
"No, Sheriff, this is what I want. This is my destiny and I must fullfill it. Please lead me to the nearest Temrathi fortress."
"Yes, I will," Kharen said sadly, "but there is a man you must meet first. He is on his way here as we speak."
Minutes later he arrived. He was a tall Human in his 30's, with curly brown hair and eyes. He was dressed in fine, Monite clothing and he carried a wooden cane. He had a slight limp.
"Farael, my name is Erik, the Mayor of Mona. I have waited my whole life to meet you. I pray that you can save us from the End."
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At that point, the North Star winked out. It had been there since the dawn of human history, and a philosopher a hundred years ago calculated that a hundred thousand people across the world were looking at it at any time. And now it had gone out, snuffed like a candle, and the busy port city of Mona... went quiet. One after another, the stars were slowly fading into the Night.
And then the Horken attacked.
They could be heard from half a mile off, baying war cries like savage dogs fighting over a kill.
Curnow was the first to grasp the situation, running to the mayor.
"Sir... we need to organize an exodus."
Within half an hour, the entire civilian militia population of Mona was either on a boat, sailing to find a new home or waiting to be on one, and the army of Mona was waiting at the walls for the Horken.
At the fort of Akzir, the rest of the group saw it as well.
"Well, then..." Rictus said dryly "We're screwed, aren't we?"
"Most likely, yes." Drake replied "But the battle is not lost yet. Rictus, assemble your skeleton. Kryzbyn, protect Wynnm while she slumbers. Rictus and I..." He gestured with his thumb at the runecarved skeleton "Have an apocalypse to avert."
At the palace of Vanda, the king saw it. He called out to the Vandans, and together they all went to the palace, to take part in it's final defense.
And st the bottom of a river, beneath the wreck of her ship, tYzgal's hand jutted out from the silty bottom, floating out, her eyes pitch black, and the Avatar of Night spoke.:
"This is the endgame."
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Sotiria Spiros gazed at the great thing that had destroyed her temple. She considered feeling awe. She considered feeling terror. She considered feeling hate. She considered feeling hope.
Finally, she decided to feel nothing. She knew what to do.
She genuflected with her head held up and her arms outstretched toward It.
"Beast Of The Others: I Name You ERESH. I Name Myself Your Priestess. My Heart Is Yours. Your Power Is Mine."