Michael Manning - The God-Stone War

Penny screamed in anger as the tendrils of magic constricted around her painfully, but she refused to surrender, struggling with a strength that caused the bindings to cut into her skin and flesh. She might have torn free, but the shiggreth reached her first, putting his hand to her cheek.

“Relax Penelope, it will be so much less painful if you relax,” he said, as his touch began to drain her life away. A shudder ran through her as she felt once again the cold touch that had haunted her for so many years after her kidnapping, and a look of wild terror passed across her face. It disappeared quickly though as she sagged downward, gradually losing the will or energy to fight.

An expression of delight and pleasure was on Thillmarius’ face now as he followed her to the ground, and I could see some of his wounds healing even as he drew out her life, with one hand on her neck and the other on her bare thigh.

I might have roared my indignation, but my mouth was no longer cooperating. Drawing on my will, I sent a lance of force toward him, hoping to drive him away, but my magic dissipated the moment it touched his undead body. I cursed my own stupidity for wasting my last chance, as a wave of dizziness washed over me. My eyesight was growing dim and unconsciousness was approaching when I heard Moira’s voice.

“Momma!” she shrieked, in a high tone that pierced my heart, and as she cried, I saw as much as felt her power awaken, blooming outward in a flash of aythar. The carriage had drawn close, and somehow she had gotten out before Dorian or Rose could stop her. The sight of Penny dying had driven her to desperation. Her call was a summons, a heartfelt plea to her mother to rise and resist the creature that was killing her, but it fell on deaf ears. Penny no longer had the strength to stand, much less fight off her attacker.

But someone else heard her cry, a different mother that Moira knew nothing of… and she answered instantly. Rising from the broken road, was the earthen form of Moira Centyr, the magical remnant of my daughter’s actual mother.

Thillmarius was so surprised at her sudden appearance, that he released Penny and took two steps backward, but even caught off guard, his hands were already moving, preparing new attacks. He stood now directly in front of me, and I feared his next move would kill one of us.

The ground rippled and a wave of earth carried Penny back toward the carriage where Dorian and the others now stood. I am fading already, this is more than I can handle, said Moira Centyr within my mind.

Save them if you can, I responded instantly, pleading.

It might have been my imagination, but her gemstone eyes focused upon me for a moment before the world shook, and a massive ring of bedrock rose up around the carriage until it had formed an unbroken sphere.

Thillmarius turned and looked down, mock pity in his gaze. “So much for the cavalry, animal , but at least they’re safe… right? Everyone gets a happy ending but you.” He smiled, showing shattered teeth as he bent down to run his fingers through my hair. A cold wind passed through my soul, as I felt even that brief touch draw away some of my remaining vitality.

Drawing his hand back he spoke again, “I’m lying of course. Once I finish with you, I’ll take that dome apart and give the rest of your family my undivided attention. It’s just a pity that I can’t keep you alive to see it; you’re just too dangerous to ignore. I bet you wished you had learned that lesson before today… don’t you? You almost won.”

I struggled to speak but nothing worked, and I only managed to spit more blood upon the ground. My strength was gone, my magic weak and ultimately useless against the creature standing above me. My only hope was my abilities as an archmage, but I could no longer hear the voices of the earth and wind. They were drowned out by the dissonant wailing of the voice of death, loud and incessant.

The awful sound grew yet louder as Thillmarius reached down again, placing his hand on my neck. “What did you say earlier? You’ve got a collection of gods at home? Your boasting was meaningless to me. I’m the last lore-warden of the She’Har and my people created the gods. No matter what your bestial kind achieves, you’ll never be more than animals in our eyes.”

My last sight was his terrible eyes staring hatefully down at me. My last regret was that I couldn’t respond with something clever before I passed away. Stupid broken jaw, I thought, and then darkness stole the world from me.

In the darkness I saw a single light, but as I focused my attention it grew until I found myself sitting beside it, a lone candle in a darkened room. A table was before me, and sitting across it was another man, one I recognized.

“Hello,” I said amiably.

“Hello,” answered my twin with a smug expression. I could tell already that my alter ego was just as much of a smart-ass as I was, the arrogant bastard.

“Where am I?” I asked, deciding not to drag the conversation out.

“This is the end for us… or the beginning, depending on your perspective,” said my other self.

“Listen,” I told my doppelganger, “I know how much I enjoy being cryptic, but how about we dispense with the circumlocutions and just speak plainly. It won’t be long before even this dream is gone.”

“Not exactly,” the other me replied, “Time is an illusion. In a certain sense, this conversation will last forever… in another sense it is already over… and for some, it has just begun.”

I groaned, “I’m starting to wish it was already over. If this is the afterlife, please cancel my membership.”

“This isn’t the afterlife. You haven’t died yet.”

My eyes narrowed, “Then who are you?”

“I’m you,” my other-self replied.

“Really? I thought you’d be more handsome,” I shot back.

We both laughed at that; until I realized that it was rather pathetic, laughing at my own jokes with an imaginary friend… while I was dying. I wondered if Marc’s experience had been similar.

“I’m here to offer you a choice,” said my twin, bringing my attention back to the conversation.

“What choice?”

“Knowledge… or ignorance,” my hallucination answered, and opening his hands he held out a small object toward me.

My eyes were drawn toward it, even as I retorted, “What difference will it make?”

“Exactly.”

The object he held was a fruit, pinkish-yellow in color, with a high luster, and a jolt of recognition shot through me when I saw it. It was something the She’Har had called a ‘loshti’, a rare creation of their mother and father-trees. The best name for it in our language would have been ‘ancestor fruit’.

“This is where it began,” I said, lecturing my alter ego. “When our ancestor stole the loshti…” My eyes bore down on it and it seemed to grow in size. I had crossed the threshold… the door within my mind had opened, and now I chose to look into, to stare at, the knowledge that previously paralyzed me with fear.

Two thousand years of men and women struggling and living ran through my mind, the memories of my ancestors, stretching out behind me in a line that reached back to the point of my fear… the moment when my original ancestor stole and ate the loshti of the Illeniel grove. Looking deeper I saw the memories continued beyond that point, to alien thoughts and foreign dreams… the dreams of the trees. The trees we had slain.

The loshti was the vehicle by which the She’Har had passed down their collected wisdom, from one generation to the next. It was never meant for human kind, and yet he had stolen it anyway, in his quest for recognition… and power. It was the hidden place in my mind, the knowledge I hid from myself. It was what had lain hidden behind the name, ‘Illeniel’s Doom’, for its theft and the knowledge it granted had led to the destruction of an entire race, and very nearly humankind as well.