Ascendance (Part 2) by Planeswalker  

“Ohhh!” cried out Corsara in pain as she put her feet up on a foot rest, “You 
could have told me how big the hall was before I agreed to take a tour.”  
“You didn’t ask.” replied Aeon, coolly.  
“We walked for seven hours! You could have hinted your home took seven hours to 
walk around!”  
“Actually, you saw less than a quarter of the hall.”  
The herald and the ninja had returned to the study where Aeon had told his tale.  
Along the way, the pair’s conversations had consisted mainly of Corsara asking 
Aeon as many questions as she could fit in, with the odd “How much further?” 
thrown in.  
“Now, do you want to tell me of why the ‘Ancient One’ had to help you guys out 
so badly, or do I have to torture you to get you to tell?” Aeon asked, smiling 
to show he was only joking.  
“It’s the Sect.”  
“With Recanai, it’s always the Sect.  I know that they can be a little 
overbearing at times, but you’ve always held them at bay in the past.”  
“No, it’s not the same old Sect.  How long was it before the day I arranged last 
night’s meeting that you last visited us?”  
“Hmmm...  Maybe 18 years? I do have other obligations you know.  I take it that 
Morig is still the warlord?”  
“Morig? He was killed 9 years ago.  His replacement, Estragas, was not a lot 
different to Morig, he kept up the boarder skirmishes, but was mostly quiet, but 
about 6 months ago, he was done in by a young boy, and he’s the problem.  Not 
only is he a powerful swordsman, but he’s obsessed with the black arts.  Since 
he ascended to the Sect seat of power, they’ve started to launch full scale 
assaults on us.  We’ve lost over a quarter of our territory in the last month 
alone.  We arranged the meeting with the Ancien-  I mean You, in the hope you 
could help us.”  
“So your problem is that some little black mage is leading an army to your 
doorstep? I’m sorry Corsara, but if that’s it, it’s hardly one of those 
situations I can bend the rules to help you out with, even if I wanted to.  
Civilisations rise and fall overnight.  I doubt they’ll even get as far as to 
seriously threatening your kingdom.  Unless I’m mistaken, they conquered the 
mountain dwarves didn’t they?”  
Corsara nodded.  
“Well the dwarves organised a little resistance cell, and with a little 
persuasion, they could cause a little insurrection to help you beat the Sect 
back.” Aeon stated.  
“You really haven’t been back to our world in a while have you? The dwarven 
resistance was all but crushed three years back.  I’ve been with the last few 
defiant dwarves over the past week, and I’ve been snooping around.  I managed to 
find out that the new warlord, Sekrik, has started to summon creatures to do his 
bidding.” cried Corsara, “Aeon, we’re desperate.  We NEED your help.”  
“I’d love to help you Corsara, I truly would, but there are more pressing 
matters to attend to than a mortal squabble.”  
“So you’re turning your back on us?”  
Aeon looked into the fire away from Corsara’s eyes.  
“Fine.” said Corsara, dejectedly, “In that case, thanks for nothing.  Would you 
show me back to the Kelgazo Cliffs please?”  
Corsara stood and walked back out into the hall, Aeon chased out after her and 
stopped her just before the great stone arch.  
“Corsara, I’m sorry.  Recanai is one of the few places that I genuinely care 
about what happens to, but you have to understand that as powerful as I am, 
there are still rules about what I can and can’t do...”  
Corsara looked deep into the herald’s eyes and realised that he was telling her 
the truth.  
“Is there nothing you can do?”  
“All I can do is give you this...”  
Aeon handed her a small clear crystal, cut perfectly into the most beautiful 
gemstone Corsara had ever seen.  
The gem sat neatly into the palm of her hand and seemed to catch every facet of 
light in the hall.  
Aeon continued, “If you ever genuinely need me for a life or death matter, 
shatter this crystal.  I’ll know that you need me and wherever I am, I’ll come 
to help as soon as I can.”  
“Why are you helping me like this Aeon?”  
“You’re one of the few people who I’ve ever told my history to, and contrary to 
popular belief, I am capable of caring for friends...”  
“Thanks Aeon...”  
Aeon clicked his fingers, and the great stone doors blocking the stone arch 
slowly started to scrape apart.  
“Will I ever see you again?” asked Corsara.  
“I hope so...  Look after yourself.”  
Corsara walked through the arch, back to her own reality.  

All was quiet in the Holy Kingdom of Janju in the month following Corsara’s 
return.  
As the mighty herald had told Corsara, the Sect’s threatening advancement was 
cut short by a small group of insurrectionist dwarves freeing imprisoned 
comrades.  
The dwarven riots lasted twelve days, during which time the whole of the Sect 
army was recalled to defend Sect cities.  
After this, the Holy Kingdom took their opportunity to regain their lost 
territory.  

Sekrik was not heard of for three months after the dwarves rioted.  
His generals took care of all matters of state in his absence.  
The townsfolk told tales that he was killed during the riots, while others 
rumoured that he had fled in terror for fear of dying, but in reality, he had 
retired to the underground caverns beneath the Citadel of the Sect.  
In these caves, the Grand Necromancer was beginning to master the arcane arts 
that his tutor had once dappled in.  
It was here that he set in motion the plans that would change the fate of 
Recanai forever...  

Corsara walked slowly down the steps of the temple and headed off towards the 
central library.  
The palm sized crystal that hung around her neck on a chain caught the midday 
sun and dazzled passers by.  
After leading a platoon of elite warriors to regain the forests leading to the 
coast, she had moved to the capital city of the Holy Kingdom Garacin at the 
request of one of the members of the High Council, where she took the post of 
Chief Instructor at the Janju Military School.  
Her new job was mostly administrative, which frustrated the young lady who 
longed to keep her skills as a warrior sharp, but it allowed her plenty of free 
time to pursue the other interest she had obtained.  
“Chief Instructor.  It is a pleasure as always to see you.” said the librarian 
to Corsara.  
She nodded in recognition, she really had no idea who this man was, for the 
shear number of times she visited the libraries in Garacin, she had begun to 
forget which people worked where.  
She descended into the deepest part of the central library, several floors 
underground where the oldest books were kept.  
Since her encounter with Aeon, Corsara had become obsessed with the being she 
had met only for a few short hours.  
During her research into the history of the herald on Recanai, she discovered 
that in all his time in the realm, he had often appeared to protect her 
ancestors.  
In the end, she decided to look at the oldest records kept intact in the 
basements of the central library.  
It was here that she sat, reading, as Garacin fell.  
The librarian sat behind his desk with a cup of water sitting next to the scone 
he had left over from lunch, ideal for a mid afternoon snack, he thought.  
He started to read a few reports on the current state of affairs in his 
hometown, a small village a few miles from Garacin.  
His heart really wasn’t in it because the summer sun was pouring through the 
grand windows at the far end of the library and it was getting rather hot, as he 
leaned to grasp his water, he felt a slight rumble under his chair.  
This was followed moments later by another tremor, louder than the first.  
Each vibration was followed by another of greater intensity seconds later.  
The water in the cup rippled as the librarian walked to the windows as a mighty 
shadow blocked out the last sunlight Garacin would see.  

The guard assembled within minutes of the cry of invaders.  
A ring of 50 Sect was seen two miles from the Garacin city gates, and there they 
stopped.  
They needed to go no further as the creature that Sekrik summoned from the 
middle of his circle of followers was more than enough to eliminate any threat.  
The city guard stood no chance as a 500 metre tall black dragon stepped over the 
city walls as though they did not exist, unfurled it’s wings to blot out 
Garacin’s sun, and breathed fire from it’s mouth to sear the city and all those 
running from danger in the streets.  

Corsara was oblivious to the danger as she sat reading, often turning Aeon’s gem 
over in her fingers while she read.  
Masonry fell as the dragon placed a mighty claw on the central library, crushing 
it underfoot.  
The ceiling collapsed and a surprised Corsara had the reflexes to dive away to 
the cover of a nearby book shelf.  
What was once the central library crashed down to obliterate where Corsara sat.  
Broken and scared, the Chief Instructor cowered under the bookshelf, buried 
alive under tons of stone.  
Her last thought before everything went dark was that she had lost her gem.  

She was found there days later by a rescue party, led by a man in a purple 
cloak, holding an ornate metal staff.  

The rescue party from Trad, the second largest city of the Holy Kingdom arrived 
in the remains of Garacin just as night fell on the second day after the 
devastation.  
They wandered the decimated streets all night searching for survivors.  
The first sign of life they found was the old man in the cloak.  
Not one member of the rescue party could believe that the man, who claimed to be 
a beggar, survived without harm, but was grateful none-the-less for the help he 
gave them.  
The beggar had a knack for unearthing those who still lived, and when morning 
broke, the old man declared that it was not likely that they would find any more 
people alive.  
The survivors were loaded up onto a carriage pulled by four great cart horses, 
and escorted back to Trad by three horsemen and a messenger.  
The old man remained to help the last few members of the search party clear the 
town of the deceased.  
“I have to know if my granddaughter was amongst the dead.“ he told the captain 
who led the mission.  
The party slept for a few hours before resuming their mission.  
The progression through the city was slow until they neared the central library.  
The beggar went off on his own towards the ruins before them.  
The party cried out that the rubble would not be safe, but he either did not 
hear or ignored their plea.  
The soldiers followed the old man, and stood by his side as he turned aside 
debris with unnatural strength to discover the young woman buried under tons of 
stone.  
They took him back to the encampment they had set up, where the old man said 
simply “I’ve found her.” before leaving her to the medic brought from Trad.  

For the next week, under the attentive gaze of the medic, she was slowly nursed 
back to health, but she would not regain consciousness.  
Also a mystery to the Tradians was that the beggar could not be found no matter 
how hard they searched.  
After the second week, the Tradians got news from home and the rest of the Holy 
Kingdom when the carriage of survivors returned with a further four carriages 
for company.  
The survivors told stories of how after the Sect ruined Garacin, they moved on 
to Trad, then Alteg, and finally Puderan, each time destroying the cities with 
the black dragon, and in turn destroying any threat of retaliation.  
With each passing day, more and more refugees arrived in the growing settlement, 
and each convoy brought tales of a cloaked man saving them and their families.  
A month later, the beggar returned carrying nothing save the staff he left with 
and a small vial of green liquid.  
He entered the tent of the sleeping beauty, whom had still not seen the light of 
day, and asked not to be disturbed.  
Two hours later a revived Corsara walked from her resting place, followed by her 
cloaked saviour.  
Together, they walked off into the forest to the west of the encampment, not to 
return until nightfall.  
That night the beggar addressed the gathering, who listened attentively to the 
man many believed to have been blessed by Janju’s hand to have been able to save 
so many of them.  
“Could I have your attention, please?” asked the man with a voice that was weak 
with age, “It has come to my attention that we have lost much over the last 
months.  We have lost our friends, our family and our homes.  Some of us, have 
been luckier than others.”  
Several members of the crowd started whispering as the old man glanced at his 
young companion, who still stood by his side.  
The beggar continued, “I SAY NO MORE!”  
The crowd cheered, all their hardship forgotten as the words flowed from the 
mouth of the charismatic old stranger.  
“I say that we put an end to the threat that has caused us so much pain.  I say 
that we strike back against Sekrik, the man who rules the Sect with a bloody 
hand.  The blood he uses comes from our loved ones, and it shall be his 
downfall.  He believes that he has crushed you underfoot and that you will never 
be heard from again.  Ladies and gentlemen, LET US PROVE HIM WRONG!”  
Another almighty cheer went up as the old man turned over the proceedings to 
Captain Weston, the unofficial leader of the assembly, who proceeded to organise 
the assault on the Sect.  
The old man retired to his tent, followed by Corsara.  
“Are you happy now? I’ve organised the assault on the Sect you wanted.” 
questioned Aeon when they were away from the ears of the rabble.  
“Why did you come?” demanded Corsara.  
“I thought I answered that when we spoke this afternoon.” replied Aeon, taking 
off his cloak and regaining the youthful, bald form which he favoured.  
“No, Aeon, you didn’t.  You told me what happened to the Kingdom, and I told you 
what happened to me, and we agreed that something would have to be done about 
the Sect, and that was it.  Why did you come back for ME?”  
“The crystal smashed, and I came to find you.  I thought you were a goner, but I 
got to you in time.  I won’t lie to you, if you had been killed, I don’t know 
what I would have done, but fortunately you weren’t...” the herald trailed off, 
trying to change the subject.  
“When do we leave to get Sekrik?”  
“We don’t.”  
“Huh?”  
“We’re not going Corsara.  I can’t go, I mean, everyone here knows me as the old 
beggar, and he doesn’t have the power to do a thing, and I won’t put you at 
risk.  If you never listen to a word I say again, listen to me when I say you’re 
too important to die.  I’ll be back in three days.  I’ve some business to attend 
to elsewhere...”  
Aeon stood up and picked up his staff, Corsara got to her feet and leaned 
towards the herald.  
“Hurry back.” she whispered, before giving him a gentle kiss on his right cheek.  
Corsara saw a small smile form on the lips of Aeon as he faded from Recanai.  
She walked from his tent, closing the flap behind her.  
When she arrived back in her own tent, she finally spoke.  
“I know you mean well, but I’m the best warrior these people have.  Weston knows 
I was the military school’s chief instructor.  I’m going.” she said defiantly, 
in a whisper as an afterthought, she added “Forgive me, Aeon...”  

The next morning, the army of 500 soldiers, the last of the Holy Kingdom of 
Janju were assembled, and under the command of Captain Weston and Corsara 
Reeven, set out towards the Citadel of the Sect.  
They travelled day and night over the next two days, and finally, as night 
settled on the third day, they saw the Citadel as they turned round a bend on 
the mountain pass through which they travelled.  
They decided to set up camp for the night and begin the siege as dawn broke the 
next morning.  
They did not get the opportunity.  
Corsara woke to the sound of screaming.  
She hurriedly dressed, grabbed a silver short sword from under her makeshift bed 
and scrambled out of the cave in which she and a few of the other female 
soldiers made home for the night.  
As she emerged, she was shocked by the scene around her.  
Chaos and confusion filled the air as the army frantically tried to rescue their 
comrades from under the claws of the gargantuan beast that was crushing their 
last hope.  
Corsara had been told by Garacin’s survivors and Aeon of the great black dragon 
which had destroyed her home, and she had no doubts in her mind that this was 
the same creature.  
She went through a kaleidoscope of emotions in a split second, from fear to 
despair to hope and finally defiance.  
She gripped the handle of her blade and charged for the beast’s left claw.  
She buried the blade deep into the dragon’s ankle before it flicked her away 
into the mountainside beside them.  
She struggled to rise to a sitting position in time to see the dragon turn 
towards her, take aim and inhale, ready to breathe burning hot flame and end her 
life.  
“Aeon...  I’m sorry...” she gasped as the beast exhaled.  
The rock and stone around her vaporised as the napalm touched it.  
All trace of the army of the Holy Kingdom was gone as the dragon’s rage spilled 
out across the mountain.  
The flame stopped as the dragon finally needed to recharge.  
The beast surveyed the land, seared smooth.  
It’s tiny mind couldn’t comprehend how the small human in white that scratched 
it’s leg still sat on the stone.  
Corsara was also in disbelief that she survived.  
She wondered for a moment if she had a guardian angel.  
She realised it was true when she looked up to see a silver figure, framed by a 
billowing purple cape hovering in the sky 50 metres from her.  
“Can’t you keep out of trouble for five minutes?” the herald joked.  
He suddenly turned to face the eyes of an enraged beast and ascended to the 
creature’s eye level.  
“I’ll thank you not to hurt my friend.” bellowed Aeon.  
With one deft movement, he outstretched his right hand, Corsara looked on as the 
dragon choked and gasped for air as the herald showed his irritation, choking 
the beast with a thought.  
Within moments, the mythical horror keeled over, finally stopped.  
Aeon descended to land next to Corsara, and he outstretched his hand to help her 
up.  
“I’m sorry Aeon.” cried Corsara, close to tears.  
“I know.” Aeon replied coolly.  
“Aren’t you going to go nuts and be angry with me?”  
“When this is finished, yeah.” the herald smiled, “But you were right.  While 
you’ve been leading your countrymen to slaughter, I’ve been doing some checking, 
and you were right.  This Sekrik of yours needs to be stopped, and I can’t think 
of a better time or place to finish it.  Are you with me?”  
Corsara nodded weakly.  
“Okay.  We’ll go with your plan to attack at sunrise.  Until then, lets get you 
cleaned up.”  
Holding his young charge in his arms, Aeon again faded from Recanai.  

Sekrik watched the mountainside drama unfold from a balcony near the top of his 
citadel.  
Now the citadel was truly his, for he had seized the last seat of power of his 
people.  
Using the dark magic that he harnessed in the catacombs under his city, he 
managed to obtain true control over his empire.  
His generals were five times as efficient after zombification.  
At the same time, harnessing the dark magic had taken a terrible toll on his 
body.  
His luxurious black hair had become grey and wiry, and his muscular frame was 
now thin and frail through months of neglect.  
In his decayed form, Sekrik saw only glory.  
“Will the wonders of my power never cease?” he gloated to the walking corpse 
that served him as waiter as he saw the flames spill over the mountain.  
He turned from the window, gave the ‘waiter’ his goblet to clean and started 
down the circular stone staircase that he had built to lead directly to the 
deepest part of his caves.  
Unaware that in harnessing his unholy powers, he had lost all grip of his 
sanity, Sekrik descended lower and started making notes to himself aloud.  
“Tonight is the full moon.  Using the extra celestial power I should be able to 
use the channelling power of my caves to generate a portal to wherever I’ve been 
summoning my creatures from.  There, they will respect my supreme power and 
serve me!”  
He laughed a maniacal laugh that, had there been any living soul within a mile, 
would have chilled their blood.  
Sekrik descended and started his preparations to cast the spell which would 
breach the boundary between realms.  

To be continued...  

Back to Part 1
Part 3
Back to the Realms Tales
Back to the Dream Archive