Peace had finally come.
Two chaotic years of disaster after disaster had finally passed. Whatever did not kill you made you stronger, as the saying went...
The haruspex known as Hadeon had passed on, but her legacy lingered in two ways. One a weapon for her slayers, and the other the remains of her powers over destruction and oblivion, focused in manifested form due to the circumstances of her demise. Their unwilling host's defeat left only that manifestation: the Black Doomstone. The power to end things, to stop them, to bring them to a halt. If shattered, the power would simply find a new host. No one could bear such a burden willingly...
So it had to be buried. Buried like Hadeon once was, except deeper. So deep no one would ever find it. Such had been the plan of Lyall Curr, and in the end he had taken the extra step of taking it out of his hands.
The Order of the Eleven Stars had not gotten involved in Porphyrion's battles because they did not fight. They were scholars and guardians of knowledge, not warriors. In the end, even Lyall had not trusted himself with the Doomstone, and in his efforts to dispose of it and all knowledge of it, had ultimately turned it over to the Order. All had sworn oaths of death that they would not take it up, reinforced by powerful magic spells that no one of them could unravel alone. They had purged Lyall of certain memories at his request, and selected a long abandoned mine that dug deep into the earth. For a month they dug all the more, and prepared, a tomb that would be sealed behind them. No one would know what lay here. No one could possibly stumble over it.
....the best laid plans.
If Zoax Noureth had more of a creative mind, he might have seen this coming. But Zoax was a researcher who saw little value in stories, a viewpoint his peers shared. Which is why when the form emerged in the final moments, just when they were ready to seal away the Doomstone forever, down in the depths, they had never considered such a possibility could occur.
"What...?" Zoax said, and then his senses brought him recognition. "YOU?"
"...Why would..." Zoax said, and then he understood in what he could see. "...No...NO!"
His peers tried, knowing as he what was coming...but they were scholars, not warriors, and even if they had been hardened battle-mages, it would not have been enough. The darn form took their attacks and stopped them in their tracks, and then returned the blows twice as fierce. They crumbled like wheat under a scythe, not dead, not even really all that hurt, but down. It was all that was needed. Expert precision.
Zoax made a stand. The form just negated everything he did. Even with basic knowledge, it was enough. Empowered construct armor. By itself, merely dangerous.
But also perfect to wield it. And as Zoax was knocked aside, he realized that he could not stop it from happening.
"...please..." Zoax said. "I don't know why...but this world has already suffered so..."
"I have no interest in this world."
A slash from deadly weapons, and the Doomstone was free. Zoax understood.
"...what have you become?"
"...I am the Air. And the Darkness."
"...The star people...They will stop you."
"Can even they stop...the end of all things? Can even they stop...death?"
No comments:
Post a Comment