David Dalglish - The Death of Promises

“You’ve sought to weaken Celestia’s power,” Qurrah said. “You wish to remove that barrier.”

Velixar laughed, and far away, a wolf howled in agony.

“Quite astute,” he said. “That barrier must be shattered.”

“But why,” the half-orc asked. “Is Karak somehow trapped because of it?”

“No,” Velixar said, his voice lowering. “No, that is not it. Karak has learned something during his imprisonment, something that I myself have shown him.”

Tessanna nestled her head against Qurrah’s chest as she spoke.

“What did the dark god learn?” she asked.

“Chaos,” Velixar said. “Before order can be established, there must be chaos and death. Karak has seen his true goal, a world of perfect order. I will grant you an honor I have given no other; I will show you this perfect world.”

He reached across the fire and placed a hand across each of their foreheads. At first they felt icy cold, and then the images came, sharp and unstoppable.

The ground was a barren eternity of blackened rock, burnt by fire long extinguished. Marching in perfect rows were legions of undead. They were men, women, and children of every race, from orc to elf. Overhead the sky was naked, nothing to protect them from the searing sun. Over the land they marched, no apparent goal than to move ever further. Standing amid them was Velixar, red smoke pouring from his eyes as he commanded each and every one of them.

The image faded with the removal of Velixar’s hands. The two lovers stayed silent as the last of the black land faded from their mind.

“That is an ugly world,” Tessanna said, breaking the silence. “Ugly. I want no part of it.”

“You seek the end of all life,” Qurrah said. “Everything burnt or turned to mindless undead.”

“Order will be restored,” Velixar said. “Everything will obey. Do you understand now? Thulos is everything Karak needs. His war demons will kill all life, and then our god will follow in his footsteps, establishing true order from the rubble.”

“You need Thulos to free Karak first,” Qurrah said, suddenly understanding. “You will unite the brothers.”

“With their combined might we can slay Ashhur,” Velixar said, his voice quickening as excitement flooded him. “Celestia will be powerless to stop us. Dezrel will be ravaged and burned, made to the world that you saw. And then they will continue on, bringing world after world to order.” He pointed to the journal Qurrah kept on his lap. “Within there is the spell needed to open the portal. Incredible strength is required to cast the spell, as well as two people. I am strong enough, but for centuries now I have searched for another to aid me.”

“You wish me to destroy everything, all that I know, just to free the dark god?” Qurrah asked.

“Darakken was strong enough, but he turned against me, becoming the demon instead. He buried that tome within his flesh so I could not obtain it. You have it now, Qurrah, just as you were always meant to. Everything is in place to bring Thulos into this world. I have found the final key.”

“And what is that?” Qurrah dared ask.

“Her,” Velixar said, pointing at Tessanna. “She is a daughter of Celestia, granted enormous power by the sleeping goddess. She is destined to keep the balance from tilting too far to Karak or Ashhur. But we can use her power as Celestia never would have imagined. She can aid us in opening the portal! Not even the goddess will be able to stop us!”

The girl shied back into Qurrah’s arms as she heard those words.

“I don’t like your world,” she said. “There’s nothing fun, just the dead and the ash.”

Velixar laughed.

“That is why you do not have to live within it. Once Thulos has arrived, we can create portals to hundreds of other worlds. You may go into any one of them, with my promise that until your deaths the war machine of order will not follow. You can live peacefully until the end of your days.”

Qurrah carefully shifted Tessanna beside him and then stood.

“I need to speak with you in private,” he told him. Velixar waved to the emptiness beyond their campfire.

“After you,” he said. The half-orc kissed Tessanna’s lips and then ventured away from the firelight.

“Her mind is broken,” Qurrah said once he was certain she could not hear. “I promised her I would mend the pieces.”

“You thought Darakken’s spellbook would have it,” Velixar said. “There are many powerful spells within my journal, but not one such as that.”

Qurrah sighed. He glanced back at his lover, a horrid ache in his heart.

“Then my word is broken once more.”

“No,” Velixar said, a glint in his eye. “I do not have the power…but Thulos and Karak are gods, Qurrah. Karak’s power is chained by Celestia, but he and Ashhur created your kind. Healing her mind is well within their power. Aid me in inviting Thulos and I promise she will be healed.”

The half-orc looked up at the stars, hating himself. He remembered the rows of marching dead. His brother would be amongst them, as well as his wife. Did they deserve such a fate?

He glanced back to the fire. Tessanna sat beside it, her dagger drawn as she viciously slashed into her arm. She was more nervous than she let on, he realized. Only the dripping blood revealed her worry. He thought of the scars that lined her arms, and the chaos that swirled behind her eyes. No, he thought, his brother might not deserve to walk among the rows of the dead, but his lover deserved the pieces of her mind to be made whole.

“I will help you,” he said at last. “And Tessanna will as well.”

Velixar clapped him on the shoulder, a smile creasing his face.

“I’ve always been proud of you, Qurrah,” he said. “And you have made me prouder still.”

“What do we do?” the half-orc asked, gesturing with the journal. “Should we begin?”

“Not yet,” Velixar said. “We must cast the spell where Karak and Ashhur first entered this world. That is where the barrier is weakest.”

“And where is that?”

The man in black grinned, a bloodthirsty hunger smoldering in his eyes.

“At the seat of the throne in Veldaren. I have not laid siege to it over the course of the centuries without reason. With its fall, we will be ready. But first we need an army. We go to the Vile Wedge.”

“You made the orcs fight for you before,” Qurrah argued, “but you cannot expect them to trust you now. You let them die upon the cities gates just so you could raise them as the dead.”

“I do not need trust,” Velixar said. “And I do not need obedience. The world is changing, Qurrah, and we are the catalyst. Once they were servants of Karak. It is time to restore the old order of things.”

The man in black offered his hand to Qurrah. The half-orc bowed and clasped it in his own two hands.

“My life for you,” he said. “And for her.”

“Sleep now,” Velixar said. “I will give you privacy. Come the morn, we ride.”

With a fading of black mist he was gone, and Qurrah knelt alone in the darkness. He returned to the fire where Tessanna sat with her dagger in hand. Tears streamed down her face.

“Shatter my mirror,” she said, the voice broken by the lump in her throat. “Not just that. Shatter everything, he says, shatter everything, and still you lie, still you hide, and Aullienna floats above it, floats, floats…”

“Shush,” Qurrah said, wrapping his arms around her. She rejected his comfort, instead shrieking and flailing at him with the dagger. He leapt back, narrowly avoiding the bloodied edge. The girl stared at him, wildness in her eyes.

“When this is over we leave,” she said, her lower lip quivering. “We leave Velixar. We leave your brother. We leave the gods and the goddess. We leave Dezrel, and we live together, just us. No plans. No destiny. No promises. You hear me lover? Will you come with me when all this is death?”