Midnight: The Crown of Shadow

[Valen]

Far, far to the north, in the frozen bowels at the spine of the world, a white tower rose up into the night sky. Outside, the sky shone with different colours. Purple, pink, blue, orange set against the glittering canopy that lay over the world of Aryth. There was very little that was pretty left, but this, the aurora borealis, was one of the few things of genuine beauty in this shattered world.

Inside this pale, marble tower of purest white, on the very top floor, a figure sat. Hunched over a wooden oak table, the figure pored over an ancient tome. Behind him, a fire crackled in the background, its light casting a flickering dark silhouette through the window. If the figure was affected or moved by the beautiful tapestry painted over the night sky behind him, he did not show it. Because for Aldherin, Sorceror of Shadow and one of the four Night Kings, there was little room left in his heart for beauty or warmth. All those things he had left behind him long, long ago. Back when the Shadow took him.

Flicker.

The pale face of an elven maiden looked back at him as he lay on the grass. Overhead in the sky, the sun shone brightly. There was a cool breeze blowing through the clearing. Sighing lazily, Aldherin looked to the sky as he snaked an arm around the maiden's shoulder, drawing her into him and holding her close.

"Would it be that this day could last forever, my love," he sighed again as he closed his eyes, feeling her head lay snugly into his breast.

Alas it could not, and as much as he wished it would, he knew all too well that reality would soon come crashing into his daydream. Already, rumours spoke of dark things stirring in the north, within the Spine of the World. Elven spies had spoken of strange activity amidst the frozen wasteland. The orcs were gathering and forming what seemed to be a unified force. Such a thing was unheard of. Traditionally the tribes of the northern lands spent so much bickering and fighting amongst each other that they were of no threat to anyone else. Yet now they moved en masse. Had something, some unknown force unified them under one banner? It was hard to believe, yet a troubling force nonetheless.

A small yawn next to him banished his fears, even if only temporarily. Looking down with a small smile to the elven lass curled up near him, Aldherin put his concerns to one side. How could he not when his childhood sweetheart lay next to him?

"Are you tired? You'd better take this time to rest up. Its your coronation soon, and you won't have any time left at all to enjoy these moments."

Almond-shaped, blue eyes opened as the girl balled her fist and punched him playfully. "You're such a dour-faced bore Aldherin. Do you have to put a downer on everything?"

Chuckling, Aldherin laid his head on the ground. "Somebody's got to be the serious one of the two of us Aradil."

Flicker.

The distant memory was one of the very few ones that Aldherin still held onto. As he sat, looking at ancient texts, he made a small gesture with his hand. The air in front of him flickered, gradually taking shape as it formed into the image of that pale, elven lass from so many years ago. Looking at it, Aldherin sighed as he whispered, "Everything that I have done, everything that has happened it is all because of you Aradil. You may deny me, but you cannot deny to yourself the truth that you desperately keep hidden inside of you."

Flicker.

The armies poured out from all sides. Meeting them, the elven forces stood firm. Standing away from then, Aldherin tried to block out the screaming and the clash of sword upon sword. His people were dying. Back in the great forest of Erethor, Queen Aradil was trying desperately to weave her magics, to cast the spell that he knew would save the dying remnants of the elves. This was not a battle they could win. And yet, as the armies of orcs boiled forth, ceaseless and neverending in their numbers, Aldherin knew that everything that he was doing, everything that his army was doing was nothing more than a delaying tactic. They could not win this fight. As he marched forth that day, Aldherin knew he was going forth to die.

And die he would, with pride, keeping his love safe.

There was a reason he was standing here, at this point, even as the rest of his people died in the ground below, the grass stained with their blood. Aldherin knew this would be the focal point of the conflict. This was where *he* would show.

Guttural snarling told the elf that he was not alone. Lips curled up in a slight smile as two orcs approached, clutching their vardatches tightly in their gnarled fists. Raising his arms to either side, Aldherin beckoned the orcs to approach. And approach they did, both of them springing into action, charging forwards as they attacked. But Aldherin was ready.

Spinning to one side, he dodged the first's clumsy attack as the second tried to close in from the other side. Swinging its vardatch, Aldherin brought his hand up, catching it on the wrist and keeping the deadly weapon from connecting with his neck. Balling his fist, he smashed it into the creature's throat, channeling the fire through his hands as he did so. The orc screamed, a sound that was cut off into a gurgle as the flames raced forth, immolating it and turning it into ash on the spot. Turning, he saw just in time as the first orc hurled a javelin at him. Waving his hand, a thin curtain of flame appeared, turning the javelin to ash as it pierced the flames, burning it before it even reached him.

Then, suddenly running forwards towards it, he spread his fingers. The orc, not prepared for the sudden ferocity of the onwards assault, did not react in time. Taken by surprise, it stood there as Aldherin dove forwards, driving his fingers through its eyes. Snarling, Aldherin summoned forth crackling electricity as he snarled, "Die, grak'lokk scum!" The electricity came through his fingers, channeling itself straight into the creature's gaping sockets. It screamed for all of a second before its head exploded in a shower of gore and brains.

Aldherin was alone, for a second, breathing heavily with the bodies of his slain opponents around him.

Then, the sound of clapping echoed throughout the clearing. Facing the sound, Aldherin looked to see a tall, imposing, hulking figure wearing armour made of the blackest ebony. The figure's head was obscured by a black helm with two slits for eyes.

"Jahzir."

Aldherin spat the word out. "What price did you pay, old friend? What price to betray everything you once held dear and turn your back on your own countrymen to make your lot with Izrador?"

Holding a large double-bladed sword on his hand, Jahzir pointed it at Aldherin as he responded. "For once, old friend, I wanted to be on the winning side. There is no sense in supporting a doomed cause, as you will soon find out."

Behind him, the gangly forms of more orcs appeared, flanking the Night King. Aldherin laughed grimly at the sight. This was not a fight he could win. Yet, it wasn't about winning. It was about buying Aradil enough time to complete her spell. And this....this, he could do.

Aldherin spat on the ground. "One more time then, friend. For old times sake."

With a scream, Aldherin charged in to engage his foe one last time, moving forwards to his own death.

Flicker.

But I did not die that day. *He* made sure I did not die.

Aldherin closed the book with a sigh. Reminiscing about the past made little difference. What was done was done now, and in the centuries since his taking, Aldherin's name and legacy had been stained with countless dark deeds. Whereas once he was the saviour of his people, now he was the slayer. Elf, human, dwarf, gnome and halfling alike had fallen under the power of his arcane might. Power that none, not even Aradil herself, could stand against.

"Aradil." The sound was like the harsh scratching of metal claws digging into wood. "You loved me once, long, long ago, as I once did you."

With a wave of his hand, he banished the image, and Aradil faded into nothingness. "Time changes all things, does it not, my love." Laughing, Aldherin walked slowly to the window to look out into the frozen world beyond. "The next time we meet, love, one of us will die. And your power, great as it is, cannot match mine, fuelled as it is by my dark god."

Clenching his fist, Aldherin watched idly as it glimmered with a glowing, white light. A light that burned brightly for a few seconds before fading into nothingness. "It is sad that it has come to this, but there is no way back for either of us now. We can only watch powerless as the path that is laid before us, and the story plays out to its conclusion."

His dark eyes glittered as he stared at the night sky.

"There is so little you know, love. So little that you and my precious god realise. The knowledge that I possess will change the world forevermore."

His voice trailed off, echoing in the wind as he whispered. "I have learned how to pierce the Veil separating our world from the realms beyond. And I need one more thing, one thing only to complete the ritual."

Another image formed in front of his eyes. That of a small, brass cylinder. Aldherin reached towards it, but his hands passed through the ghostly illusion.

"So small, so insignificant looking, yet the power you possess will bring a god to its knees."

The image faded as Aldherin looked away. "Soon, soon I will possess the key, and all the world's mysteries will lay open at my feet."

Smiling, Aldherin walked away from the window to contemplate, not on what once was, but of what could have been.

 

[Valen]

My name is Karnak. I do not have a last name, nor do I care for one.

The man awoke in a cold sweat. Turning, he swung his feet out from the wooden cot that he lay in, and he gasped loudly as he held his head in his hands, shaking his head. Another night, another nightmare.

My name is Karnak. I should not be here, but yet I am. I should not even be alive, yet I do live. Underneath, my heart beats within my chest and I continue to draw breath. I do this because I won't let that whoreson bastard Izrador take me. I will spit in his eye, and as he crushes me I will rip out his damned heart from his chest and I will devour it.

Rising, the man yelled as he flipped over the wooden cot with his hands, turning it on its side. With a toothy grin, the man whispered to himself. "The day that all you have left is the nightmares is the day you lose your power over me old man."

Spitting on the floor, Karnak dressed quickly, belting his greatsword to his back. Not for the first time, Karnak considered why he was still here. He didn't give a damn about these pathetic, inconsequential insects, yet here he was, at the beck and call of the leader of the tribe, the Dorasil Eirinn. Karnak had always found it curious that an elf would be here, leading the scattered little sheep in this place rather than being back with his kin in the Great Forest of Erethor, but each to their own he guessed. The people of Hope's Gate did not like Karnak, and he did not like them in turn. In some ways, it was a marriage of convenience. On the one hand, his swordarm and ability with a weapon helped to protect them, and on the flip side, they provided him with a place to hide from the Shadow.

Karnak sneered at the thought. "Look at me. I used to be something. I used to be important. Now I'm nothing, a nobody. Spending my time quaking and clutching at coverlets as I pull them up to my chin, begging that the Shadow does not find me. I'm pathetic."

Nobody knew his secret, and it was better that way. Had they known, he would have faced a far worse fate than simple exile. They would have executed him on the spot, and deep down, Karnak could not really blame them for doing so. Sometimes he wondered why he did not do so for himself, yet the answer as it came to him was simple. He was a stubborn bastard, and he believed, truly believed that if he was going to die, he would die doing something important for once in his worthless life and not with a whimper. And die he would. Karnak was under no illusions that he would not survive to reach a grand old age. Why, the chances were that he would not even survive to see the year out, yet that did not matter to him. All that mattered to him was going out and dying with a sword in his hand, as he should have done long, long ago.

But for now, his was to serve. Serve, and bide his time.....until his opportunity came. That was why he was still here. That was why he allowed himself to be dictated to by a skinny little elf of all things.

And that was why he scurried to Eirinn's call, even as he hated himself for doing so.

***

The sun shone down upon him as he emerged from the wooden, ramshackle hut he slept inside. It was a beautiful day, cloudless, and with the blazing heat of the burning orb in the sky casting its lifegiving warmth down upon the people below. There was still some beauty left in the world of Aryth, despite everything that had happened. Here, in the rebel's camp, within their hidden palisade, they lived a simple, yet fulfilling life. It was more than most got in this brutal, unforgiving land.

Wake, patrol, kill any Shadow wrought trespassers. Gather food and water. Repeat.

A hard existence, but it was a life, and noone in the camp would have traded that for anything else.

As he walked through the camp to his destination, most avoided Karnak's eyes. He was not liked and he was certainly not trusted, but the warrior did not mind that. He was not here to make friends or to be liked. The only reason that he was here was the fact that being here prolonged his short, brutal existence yet another day. Overhead, a couple of black shapes flew overhead, circling the camp. One thwunk, followed by a second, and the two shapes fell from the sky, the arrows piercing them. One could never be too careful when it came to the possibility of spies for the Shadow.

Arriving at a simple wooden hut, yet perhaps slightly bigger than some of the others with its thatched roof, Karnak saw out of the corner of his eye a plume of smoke, curling as it rose up into the sky. Looking to one of the guards at the door, he reached out, snatching the man's tunic as he pulled him close. The man blinked and trembled, clearly nervous. Karnak had a fearsome reputation, and one richly deserved.

If only they knew the full truth about who I am.

Pushing the thought back from whence it came, he snarled at the man. "That fire is out of control. Go get them to put it out lest you bring the Shadow down upon us."

Letting go of the man, he shook his head as the man shook. "Y-yes s-sir."

Scurrying off to do Karnak's bidding, Karnak shook his head as he watched him go. Where do they get these idiots from?

Striding inside the wooden hut, he cast the interior a disdainful glance as he looked to the elf, Eirinn as he sat in the center of the room, a map unfurled in the middle of an oaken, trestle table. He did not glance up at Karnak as he waved a hand, bidding him to take a seat as he muttered to himself, "Ah, Karnak. Do take a seat. The others will be here shortly."

Karnak raised an eyebrow as he sat, crossing his legs as he glanced to the elf. Eirinn was so thin and scrawny, Karnak reckoned he could snap the elf in two with his bare hands. His almond-shaped eyes were a pale, watery blue, and worry lines creased his forehead. Blond, limp hair hung lifelessly from his head, reaching down to his shoulders.

"Eirinn. I work alone. You know this."

At this, Eirinn glanced up at Karnak and a small hint of a frown appeared on his face. "This time you don't. This task is too important to trust to one person."

It needs others because I don't trust you.

The words weren't spoken but the unspoken implication was there. Karnak glared at the elf, wishing for all the world that looks could kill as he waited for the others to arrive....