Book 8: Chapter 79: A fiendish encounter
Atreus reacted as the first, and he plunged the gold-edged dagger into the creature.
It responded with an expression of pain and grabbed the spellbreaker’s wrist, pushing him and the weapon back. “How discourteous!”
Hearing the fiend speak fluent Asterian made Martel wonder if he had lost his mind. Even Atreus arrested his movements rather than attack again.
“You – you speak our language?” Eleanor asked.
“Of course. At this moment, I am pure magic. Magic is will, will is manifested through words, and thus, all words are spoken by me. Quite simple.”
They all stared in bewilderment.
“Forgive me. I suppose this form is a little unsettling. Allow me.” The blurred shimmer faded, or rather, it congealed into the shape of a short, elderly man. He had a wild beard, all white, and he was nearly bald. His clothes looked ordinary, and he smiled with a twinkle in his eyes.
“But you – you’re a fiend,” Atreus stammered.
“I would prefer to be called Nebo.”
“Why?” asked Eleanor. “That’s my name.”
“But you came from the Nether. I fought a creature like you, born of magic. You’re a fiend,” Atreus reiterated.
“Again, Nebo will do. You mean the Beyond? Well, born of magic is not exactly right. Certainly, my mother would take offence at that.” The old man smiled as if he was among friends, sharing a mild jest. “Infused with magic would be more correct.”
“But you haven’t come to fight us?” asked Martel. Given his spellpower was utterly drained, he prayed to all the Stars for that to be the case.
“Goodness, no.” He gave another smile so broad, it filled his face. “I’ve come to help.”
“How? With what?” asked Eleanor.
“Well, that’s going to take some explanation.”
“Alright, I’ll just begin from the start. So, like a thousand years ago – that’s just a guess, we don’t really know.” Nebo shrugged. “But anyway, very long ago, my people fled from… well, I don’t know that either. But they came here. They found this cave, and it seemed a great place to hide. And over the centuries, they carved it with magic and tools to create this city.” He leaned out the window. “Uh, I’m getting dizzy.”
“What happened next?” The impatient question came from Eleanor, while Atreus remained wary, still holding his dagger.
“Ah, Moloch happened.”
“I know that name!” exclaimed the spellbreaker. “But only from ancient tales, the name of a demon.”
“Ah?” Nebo chuckled. “No wonder our people remember her thus. But back then, everyone would have spoken her name with respect and awe. She was – is the greatest wizard of our people.”
“What did she do?” Eleanor asked.
“She created the portals. She understood that magic in our world comes from another.”
“The Nether,” Martel mumbled.
“The Beyond, yes. The domain of the Stars. It flows into our world and lets us manipulate it, but Moloch understood that what goes one way, might conceivably go the other. And through decades of arduous work, she created the portals,” Nebo explained. “Pathways through the Beyond to quickly step from one part of the world to another. She became the hero of our people. Suddenly, many parts of the world were opened up to us without compromising our safety down here. We built outposts everywhere, letting us collect resources without our home being discovered.”
“But something went wrong,” Eleanor claimed.
“On the contrary, it went right. Moloch was not satisfied. The archmage of our people, she ever strived for greater heights.”
“Too familiar a tale,” Atreus muttered.
“If magic comes from the Beyond, what possibilities does it offer? Instead of merely travelling through it, what if we stayed? How would that affect us?”
“You’re the fiends,” Martel realised. “Your people. You entered the Nether and remained there.”
“Rather rude description, but yes. Not all of us. For those without magic, the Beyond is instant death. But the mages of our people… myself included.” Nebo sighed and gave an apologetic smile. “The temptation was too great. We couldn’t resist. We abandoned our people. No wonder they cursed us.” For once, his mood seemed subdued, and he glanced out the window into the darkened, empty city.
“Why are you back? You said you came to help,” Eleanor said.
“Yes. We’ve been in the Beyond since, but whatever you are, you bring with you to that place. Moloch is a woman of towering ambition. A hunger that the Beyond cannot satisfy. It made her immortal, it gave her the power to create anything she wanted. An entire world to rule if she so desired.” Nebo squinted. “But it’s only upheld by her will. The moment she no longer thinks of it, it’s gone. She wants to be worshipped by those who are real. To have a statue in every square in every town, that all know her name and bow before her. To have her influence be felt everywhere. Nothing less.”
“Are we to understand that you’ve come to warn us of her plans?”
“It seemed prudent, considering she’s returned, yes.”
The mage’s words were met with alarm by the Archeans. “What? How, where?” came the questions in rapid flow.
“Well, I don’t know. I saw the enormous portal opening in the Beyond. We can’t open them ourselves, you see,” Nebo explained. “It requires an ingredient we don’t possess, as our very beings become infused by magic.”
“Human blood,” Martel pointed out.
“Correct. So Moloch is dependent on allies in the real world. And it seems she found one.”
“She did, but he’s dead.” Atreus pushed against what remained of Karolos’s skull with his boot. “Again, that is.”
“Well, too late, in that case. It’s not just a portal that’s opened. If so, that would be relatively simple to accomplish,” Nebo elaborated. “No, this is a permanent doorway between here and the Beyond. Moloch would never risk her immortality by returning to this world unless she knew her door back to safety was open. Somewhere, that door has been opened.”
“That makes no sense,” Atreus claimed. “If Karolos had opened such a portal, why would he have fled from us? If he had the fiends of the Nether by his side, why fight the battle last night?”
In that moment, Martel’s folly was revealed to him, and he covered his eyes with one hand, distraught. “The battle created the portal.”
The others looked at him sharply. “What do you mean?”
“That’s why Karolos let us discover him. Gave us time to march out against him. He wanted the fight in that valley, where he had prepared his ritual. He did not care if the battle was won or lost, as long as we spilt our blood.” Martel shook his head. “Human blood. He must have needed a great amount to create a permanent portal.”
“Oh, definitely. The deaths of hundreds, at least.” Nebo nodded with a smile.
“But that means the fiends are not only in our world, they’re a day’s march from Archen!” Dread seized Atreus’s face. “And we are here, more than a month away!”
“There is one method to get home swiftly,” Eleanor argued. She turned towards the dormant portal before looking at Nebo. “Can you activate this? Have us travel back the way we came?”
“That would put us east in the valley with the fiends between us and Archen,” Atreus pointed out.
“That’s where the army is,” Martel interjected. “If the fiends have appeared in the valley, our warriors will get slaughtered. They need our help.”
“I really must protest at the continued usage –”
“What of the portal Karolos used when he first fled from us? The place that served as his tomb, underneath Archen.” Eleanor grabbed Nebo by the shoulder. “It might also be linked to this place. Can you get us there?”
“Well, trying to control portals with various destinations is a bit of a gamble,” the old wizard said. “It’s possible I can steer us that way. Or we end up across the sea,” he chuckled.
“If we go to Archen, we abandon our soldiers,” Martel reiterated. “We should try to return to the valley.”
Eleanor looked at him. “And do what? We are all exhausted beyond measure. We have no strength left to fight, certainly not against foes of such power.”
“She’s right.” Atreus nodded. “Returning to the valley is suicide. But if this fellow can get us to Archen, we can at the very least warn our citizens and evacuate the city. Those are the only lives we can hope to save.”
Martel swallowed, knowing they were right; no matter how much it tore at his heart to leave their brave warriors to their fate, the Archean mages had no spells left to make a difference. He turned to Nebo. “Take us to Archen.”
“I’ll try. You see, the thing about controlling portals is…” Seeing their looks, he interrupted himself. “I shall need a bit of blood. Despite my appearance, I’m not really human at the moment, you see.”
An expression of disgust ran across Atreus’s face at the suggestion of magic involving blood; Eleanor, however, reached out her hand.
“My thanks.” Nebo raised a finger, and the nail upon it transformed into a needle that pricked her fingertip, letting a few drops fall onto the floor.
“That is all you need?”
“My good lady, I am a professional.” With a murmur, the old mage spoke some form of incantation, and moments later, the symbols glowed. “Here we go!”