The Summoned
Banishment
The Dark Plane: Outer Naogon
Asa's mouth gaped widely as he walked through
the streets of Naogon. The city was huge. On all scales, it
was simply tremendous. It seemed that his journeys were taking him
from larger places to even larger ones. Darren's keep in the light
plane had been large, but it was nowhere near as enormous as the area he
now found himself in. Of course, that was because Darren's keep would
naturally have to be defended against invaders. Looking around himself,
Asa felt a pit form in his stomach. Naogon had no such defenses,
for the very fact that it didn't need them. Norax's rule was
absolute - apparently not even the Light guard had threatened this town.
Asa turned to Seeker and whispered, "Are we safe here?"
Seeker nodded. "More than safe, boy.
This town holds two hundred and fifty thousand people in it. Which
makes us nearly impossible to locate."
Asa hadn't heard the last part of the wizard's statement.
"Two hundred and fifty thousand people?" his mind was staggering.
His home town barely numbered two hundred! And that was a large town,
for the outerlands! How could 250,000 people live in such a place,
with the Dark Plane being the barren place it seemed?
"There aren't many other cities of this size, you
realize." Seeker said, seemingly reading Asa's thoughts. "This
is by far the largest, though Genaburg and Kensai are considerable as well.
But other than these cities, very little indeed lives in the Dark Plane.
Food for the cities is shipped from the outer reaches of the realm, and
there is very little space left. Life does not thrive in this plane.
It hasn't, ever since the taint of Nathekiorion spread over this land."
Seeker shook his head sadly.
"Who's Nathekiorion?" Asa dared to inquire.
He was rewarded with a look of confusion from Seeker.
"You're really not a very apt student of history, are you?"
Asa shook his head. "I'm young, remember?
I might have had a chance to learn such things, had not other events happened."
he sounded a little more angry than he was, but he was beginning to get
tired of everyone pointing out his ignorance.
"Yes, of course." Seeker said, a slight smile
on his face. "I do forget sometimes. Forgive me. I will
tell you of Nathekiorion, but not right now." the wizard was looking
about through the crowd of people, apparently searching for something.
A moment later he found it, and guided the young summoner along his path.
"First, however, there is the matter of locating
a resting place for the evening." the wizard was leading Asa toward
a small brick structure with a sign that read "Sandler's Inn" dangling
on a post nearby. Similar buildings lined the streets, and Asa wondered
that the wizard could tell them apart. Before the young summoner
could reply, he was whisked into the building along with his guardian.
An overweight man looked up from behind a counter
at the two of them, his eyes glazed with a mixture of boredom and suspicion.
"What do the two of ye want?" he demanded, standing up and squinting to
get a better look. As he did so, his eyes widened in surprise.
"Why, it's daft old Peterson! Who've ye dragged in with ye this time,
eh?"
Seeker's eyebrows shot up. "This is th' son
of Endrick, he is!" the wizard gestured expansively at Asa, who just stood
there and tried to act natural. Moving closer and whispering to the
innkeeper, the wizard added "But he's deaf, ye see. Has been, ever
since the day 'e was born. He can't read lips either." Seeker
shook his head. "It's a shame, it is, but there's naught that one
can do."
"Aye, isn't that the truth..." the innkeeper
seemed to pause for reflection, then spoke again. "Your usual room,
I take it?"
Seeker nodded. "That'll be fine." he
turned to Asa, and gestured with his hands. Asa, who didn't understand
a word of sign language - if that was even what the elderly man was doing
- nodded his understanding. Seeker turned to his right, and went
to one of a myriad of identical doorways, opening it up. Asa followed,
wondering exactly what was happening.
Seeker sat down on one of the beds in the room and
stretched his limbs, unencumbering himself of the minimal traveling supplies
he had bothered to take with him. Asa sat down opposite the wizard,
and merely watched him.
"What are you looking for?" Seeker inquired,
after a few moments.
"Anything. Any sign that you're the great
magic worker that legend dictates. Any explanation as to why you
keep changing personalities. Anything!" Asa was beginning to
feel exasperated again. His patience was continually running short.
It wasn't Seeker's fault, really. It was this entire situation.
Seeker smiled - it seemed impossible to make the
man angry at anything, at least while he was himself. "I can give
you some answers. I am a magic user, but probably not your idea of
one. You may have met my apprentice, Paul?" when Asa's nod
indicated that he had, the wizard continued. "You could tell he was
a user of magic immediately. The robes, the nearby potions, the thousand
and one displays of power. He's young. He does these things
to show off. Don't tell him I said that, of course. It isn't
really fair to say that, but that's partially the reason he is so 'vocal',
so to speak, in his magic. I'm not young. I've spent my time
using flashy magic. Now, I'm content to be more subtle. Perhaps
it's just old age. Perhaps more."
Asa nodded. The logic seemed sensible enough.
He voiced another concern. "But what about these... alternate personas
you assume?"
"It is difficult to explain fully... suffice it
to say, that each person I expose to a persona, yourself and some others
excepted, truly believes that I am that person. More importantly,
they believe that I am nobody else but that person. If one of Norax's
men came to the innkeeper out there, showed him a drawing of me, and told
him that they were after a man who answered to the name of Janus - he would
say he had never seen the person, and honestly believe it. That is
the reason."
"Oh." Asa felt slightly embarrassed about
doubting Seeker's motives, but the old man always seemed to have so much...
fun... when he was acting like someone else. He let the thought leave
his mind.
Seeker sighed and closed his eyes, apparently resting
for a moment. "It's good to be back indoors, in a comfortable room
again." Asa could more than sympathize, and he leaned back against
the wall, looking at the light streaming in through the window. It
was midday, and the sun had somehow penetrated the almost perpetual cloud
cover that the Dark Plane was famous for.
Seeker spoke up again once more, and Asa came to
the realization that he had nearly nodded off. "I believe I had a
story to share with you... about Nathekiorion."
Asa nodded.
"Very well...."
The Summoner's Plane: East Fringe Stronghold,
740 years before
"My name is Nathekiorion." his voice
rang out loudly, carrying down to the multitudes that thronged below him
outside the stronghold walls. "I am descended of Eraniosia, who is
of Greneleath. My blood-line can be traced to the Progenitor himself."
"Long live the spirit of Rokad! May his death
be avenged with the souls of his enemies!" the chant of a thousand demons
replied.
Nathekiorion continued. "Over seven hundred
years before, our Progenitor and his Enemies were destroyed, as they brought
the nexus into being."
"The fury of the Nexus knows no bounds." the ritual
chant was sung by the audience once more.
"In the time before that, our kind were banished
from the lands that were rightfully theirs. Long have we attempted
to regain these lands, and long have the followers of Telan denied us that
access."
"The Enemy is vigilant."
The elder demon was beginning to get annoyed at
the ritual chanting, but he didn't allow it to show. Instead, he
continued. "The followers of Telan have been receiving aid from those
who live in the plane of Xanek."
Silence greeted the announcement, and Nathekiorion
smiled inwardly. There wasn't a chant for that sort of news.
"It is so. Were it not for the souls in the
Dark Plane, we would have dominated our enemies completely." he paused
to savor the reaction of the demons below. They weren't so sure of
themselves now, and that was a good thing. None would be likely to
challenge his authority.
"I have devised a strategy." he said quietly.
His voice carried over the throng nonetheless. "Tomorrow, we shall
gather at the Nexus. I myself will lead us through. But we
shall not bring our terror to the light plane this time. No, my brethren.
The souls that fall to us shall be those that follow the shade of Xanek."
"The souls of the enemy shall be ours!" the crowd
screamed. A few moments later they dispersed, some gravitating westward
toward the Nexus, eager for the battle to come. The rest vanished
into the mists that had spawned them. Nathekiorion turned and re-entered
the stronghold, considering his decision. All of the demons below
were loyal to him, he knew. Most would appear tomorrow. And
if things went as they had in the past, most would not survive.
Except, things would not go as they had in the past.
Things would be very, very different. He smiled to himself, navigating
the lightless corridors of his building expertly. He was an expert
user of magic, having overcome the rather significant handicap of being
a demon. Of course, all demons had access to magic. They were
born of magic - the forbidden magic that the Progenitor had given to them
all. Nathekiorion hadn't been alive then, but he - as well as all
other sane demons - had been told of it. That sort of power, of course,
had not been understandable to most then. And so it had stripped
away their sanity, their reason, and their very humanity. The next
generation of demons, however, had no knowledge of this power that had
so warped their predecessors. And by the time he had been born, the
Higher Path magic had been lost to his kind. Ironic, he thought,
that the very power that had created them now was beyond their grasp.
Nathekiorion corrected himself. The power
had
been beyond their grasp. No longer.
The elder demon entered a room that shone with a
pale light, furnished by a single candle. He ignored it, and walked
to the pedestal at the far end. Resting upon it was a thick book,
closed, with the words "Upon the creation of our peoples" inscribed.
It was said to have been penned by the Progenitor himself - though there
were a few excerpts that told of times after the creation of the Nexus.
Nathekiorion didn't care. All he cared about was the fact that it
detailed the times before the Progenitor's rise to power, including the
discovery of the Higher Path magic. And Nathekiorion had dedicated
years of his life to studying it.
And now it would be his.
Nathekiorion spread his arms widely, closing his
eyes and beginning to concentrate. He silently mouthed words that
he had memorized, passages that would serve to focus his memory.
And in his mind, he saw it - the power that had been taken away from his
people. Using his words to shield himself, he dove into it.
Raw power coursed around him, and his shielding
shattered under its fury. The Higher Path magic invaded his body,
trying to tear him apart. He was already a demon, so the power could
not inflict that upon him. But it could rob him of his mind.
Might he emerge from this no more than an empty shell? An animal
no better than those he had spoken to just minutes before? Slavering
for death and the horror of dying souls? He gathered his strength
in an attempt to resist. No! He would not let this happen to
himself. Slowly, the currents of the magic began to bend, moving
to his will. It was close, so close....
The elder demon's eyes sprung open. Looking
around, he slowly got to his feet. He must have passed out.... he
turned his gaze and saw, to his dismay, that there was no longer a book
on the pedestal. Instead, there was a pile of ash, scattered a bit
by a small breeze. Nathekiorion shook his head. Had he failed
somehow? He had been doing everything right.... He closed his
eyes, and he could once more see the power that he had rediscovered, waiting
for him. Opening his eyes, he knew.
The higher path magic was his.
Back - Home - Next
Hosted by Geocities.