NexLord: Black Chains

By Philip Blood

Black Chains is the second novel of the NexLord Trilogy. A young man has suddenly become a NexLord, without knowledge of what that means or the powers it conveys. Opposing him are all the evils of the world Dreadbeasts, Wraiths, evil cults, and dark prophecies. The epic adventure continues as the NexLord and his friends battle a world that has gone mad, where everyone seems to be their enemy.

The NexLord series is a traditional fantasy. The focus of this epic fantasy story are four young people who are caught up in a deadly struggle that started long ago. The magic system is based on emotion and deals with the power of group beliefs and self-fulfilling prophecy. The setting of the story is a unique planet where all normal human emotional tendencies are magnified. Humans are not alone there; four other intelligent races inhabit the lands. Prejudice runs rampant and wars based on racial hatred have plagued the lands for hundreds of years.

The emotions of hate and fear have coalesced into one place and continuously inhabit the body of a human, known as the Dreadmaster. This being continuously gathers and wields these evil powers. The ever-growing power exists independently of the human vessel it inhabits and when the body is destroyed it is only a matter of time until the power inhabits a new vessel.

To combat the Dreadmaster's power all free humans gathered to create Knights of the Realm, known as NexLords. The NexLords and their Bondsmen are the one counter to the Dreadmaster's power. But with the ending of the Final War, the last of the NexLords disappeared into the east after warning that the Dreadmaster's power was still out there. However, no one listened or believed.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Philip Blood
• Release date: May 14, 2010
• ISBN: 9781452375519

Philip Blood

Philip Blood is a published author currently living in the Los Angeles suburbs. He is an avid scuba diver, a voracious reader of sci-fi and fantasy, a tabletop gamer (from way back), and a computer game junkie with MMOs being the top of his list.Mr. Blood recently finished the third and final novel in his Zone series, this one called Brethren of the Ark and will soon publish book 9 in his urban fantasy series, The Archimage Wars: Warlok of Sheol. Book 1 through 8 are all available now with just one more to come to finish the series. Book 10 will be finished by the end of 2020. In addition, he works on creating Audio Plays for his novels, with five already available and more to come!He also recently went back to his very first fantasy epic series, Cathexis, and did a deep re-write, fixing may of the writing issues of a young author (he wrote it 30 years ago) while leaving the story intact. All four books have been re-written and are now available in ebooks or print versions.Finally, Mr. Blood has begun outlining a new, more traditional, fantasy epic, which he will start writing in 2021. The series is called, Kingdoms of Magic.

Book preview

Nexlord

Black Chains

Book Two

by

Philip F. Blood

SMASHWORDS EDITION

Version 3.3

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PUBLISHED BY:

Philip Blood on Smashwords

Nexlord: Black Chains

Copyright © 2010 by Philip Blood

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

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This book is dedicated to these wonderful people:

NexLord is about the bonds between friends and I have many to thank for their support and help. Todd Stewart Blood (who is represented in this novel) for the many real adventures we shared, it taught me what friends could achieve together. Ron DeRuyter, for following me down the rabbit hole, multiple times. Rhonda St. Laurent for being there for every word I’ve ever written. My father for telling me that I should become a writer (when I was twelve). My mother for telling me every day that I could do anything I wanted. And to my other friends for all their support, I wish I had room to name you all.

Finally, I could not have written this story without experiencing the fall to the darkest despair and how to return to the light. My wife, Marianne, was there to pull me back from the brink and taught me the meaning of unquestioning love.

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Introduction

Black Chains is the second book in the NexLord trilogy. All three books make up one story, so it is highly recommended that you read Dark Prophecies prior to starting Black Chains. Chapter One includes a recap of the first novel, but this is just a reminder and is not sufficient. If you have never read Dark Prophecies, reading this novel first will spoil the story, so please read the first book in the NexLord trilogy before starting Black Chains.

Nexlord: Black Chains

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Chapter One

"This vision was more of a dream than a prophecy, but I will enter it into these chronicles because it had the feeling of future truth. Each of the visions that have plagued me has been of death and doom, of darkness and blight; so, I am calling them the Prophecies of Doom. I don't know if it is right for me to name them, or if that is for someone else to do, but this is what I will call them, until such time as I see a brighter vision. If these are truly the future, then I have little hope, but perhaps I am wrong. But back to my dream… I was walking with a faceless man in a strange city. There was light about his head and he was marked on the chest by a black hand. As we walked shadowy human shapes leaped from alleys and windows, but I slew them all, like a living shield and the faceless man walked on.

-From the Prophecies of Doom.

Aerin was barely clinging to life when he regained consciousness in the hallowed Chamber of Stone. It was a strange awakening; his mind was in that half-state between consciousness and dreams as bits and pieces of his life replayed across the canvas of his mind. In a sense, he knew he was dreaming, yet it also seemed real. That part of him that remembered the present knew that Togroth creatures from out of the wastelands lay dead around the chamber, killed by his friends and companions, yet in his mind's eye he saw them in a vision of the past. The large vicious creatures grinned with black toothed blood lust as they once again murdered his parents, right before his eyes.

Yet as he remembered his mother's bright red blood staining her white dress, Aerin's mind shifted to another blood-stained girl. He knew she had been wounded a few minutes earlier while trying to protect his friend. Her name was Lor and she was here now lying next to him, half-dead. The deep sword wound in his chest was a duplicate of the slash in her chest. It was so strange; he remembered her lying there wounded, near death, until he used the Bonding power of a NexLord to save her, at the cost of sharing her wound. But his feverish mind knew he couldn't be right, he couldn't be a NexLord, that honor was prophesied for Gandarel, his friend. But as he had held Lor's hands, he'd seen the blood-stained chain marks of a NexLord on his own wrists. As his mind considered his wounded friend in the present, he suddenly saw her a few years younger. She was playing the part of a boy and leaping from roof to roof high above the streets of Strakhelm. It was Lor who taught him the ways and skills of traveling the High Road. His memories of the days running the rooftops with Lor brought back other youthful faces, to his feverish mind. He saw a red-headed urchin standing in Lor's shadow, yet emerging with his own unique personality as he became Aerin's friend. As he saw him Aerin knew him as Dono, the rascal, the beggar, the actor. In the back of his mind, he also knew Dono was near him now, looking after his two wounded friends. Katek was here also; he was the most recent addition to their group. He had been trained from birth to be a gladiator for the great tournaments throughout the human Kingdom. Katek's life had been ordered and simple, until the same warrior who led the attack that murdered Aerin's parents, also killed Katek's teacher and mentor, on the blood-soaked sands of the arena.

All of Aerin's young friends were here; all accept one, Gandarel Trelic. Aerin felt confusion, where was his friend? What had happened to Gandarel when he exited the wall of testing? What if Gandarel had never gotten out? Aerin thrashed in his sleep with the anguish of his thoughts. For Gandarel was the key, the one meant to be the center, the anchor of their group, the NexLord. He was the heir to the Seat of Stone, the second highest rank in the Kingdom of Men. It was for Gandarel that Aerin's father had brought his family on their ill-fated trip to Strakhelm, so he could chronicle the coming of the new NexLord into the world. Gandarel was also the reason the mysterious old woman, named Mara, had come to Strakhelm, for she followed the writings of the Prophecies of Gold and she had come to teach him the way of the Nexus.

But even with Mara's written prophecies to help her, it had all gone wrong. When they finally reached the Chamber of Stone, high in the Eigen Pass, of the Dragonback Mountains, Mara’s prophecies failed them, for the Dreadbeast called 'Death' had followed them. That ancient creation of the Dreadmaster had come to stop Gandarel from entering the Wall of Testing, in the Chamber of Stone. And though it did not physically stop Gandarel, it had complicated the outcome. Mara and her two non-human companions, Yearl the willowman and Tocor the quarian had gone to fight the Dreadmaster's minion, in order to buy Gandarel time to complete the test. Mara had warned him that this test was the most important thing in the world, for he was the NexLord foretold in both the ancient Prophecies of Gold and the even older, Dark Prophecies. The world had been without one of the powerful warriors of old for over three hundred years now, ever since the last great Nexlord, Ragol, had ridden off into the east, to destroy the Dreadmaster forever.

But Aerin remembered the fear on Gandarel's face as he stepped into the smooth stone to begin the test of the nexus. Aerin's heart had leaped out to him and though Mara had warned them that Gandarel had to face this test alone, Aerin had leaped to his friend's aid. It turned out to be a terrible mistake, for Aerin had been pulled into the Wall of Testing as well. Both young men had gone where only one was allowed.

Inside the test, they had found themselves facing the Dreadbeast Death, come to take one of the two boys from the place where only one was allowed. The Risen known as Death came for Gandarel, so Aerin did the only thing he could, he pulled Death over the cliff with him to save his friend.

But somehow, instead of being smashed at the base of the endless cliff, Aerin had come out of the wall, having completed the test and become a NexLord.

Aerin thought he heard Katek speaking to him and he couldn't remember the words that he had said, then he realized that Katek was repeating the words to him again. Wake up, Aerin! he insisted in a harsh whisper. Togroths are near and we have to get you out of here!

Aerin knew that Katek thought it was important, he just wasn't sure if this was in the past, present or future. He knew he had already beheld two visions of the future, one just before a battle on the east wall of Strakhelm, when the Togs had besieged the city and the second right after he Bonded to Lor and received this wound. But after a moment to reflect, Aerin decided it wouldn't really hurt to believe that Katek was real and not some memory of the past or some phantom of the future.

Aerin tried to speak, but had to wet his throat before words would come out. Kat, what do you need me to do?

I can't carry you and fight, can you walk?

Aerin considered it; You're kidding, right? But where moments before Aerin had felt as though he was clinging to a thread of life, he now felt slightly better. The searing agony of the wound in his chest had lessened to a dull throb.

Katek's voice was pained, I'm afraid of staying here any longer; it’s been two hours since... since you were wounded. Mara has not returned, nor has Yearl or Tocor. I've heard movement out in the dark. I... I don't think I can protect you if more Togs come.

Aerin heard the bravery it took for Katek to admit he couldn't fight the Togs without help. Alright, Kat, if it is important to you, I'll manage it somehow. What about Lor?

Lor spoke for herself. If you think you're any tougher than me, Aerin, you have a few things to learn!

Aerin winced, I hope I'm still having nightmares.

Funny, Lor muttered.

Come on, Katek said as he tried to help Aerin up by his upper arm.

Aerin let Katek pull him to his feet. Ow, he noted as the edges of his wound sent stabbing pain through his entire body.

Baby, Lor noted as Dono helped her to a tottering upright position.

Once they were on their feet, Katek picked up a torch and led the way, while Dono tried his best to help both his wounded friends.

This is your fault, Lor noted, leaning against Aerin as they followed Katek through the arched opening that led from the Chamber of Stone out into the vast entrance cavern.

My fault? Aerin asked.

If you hadn't demanded that I Bond myself to your greatness, for all eternity, I would be comfortably dead by now and you wouldn't be sporting a wound like mine on your chest.

Aerin saw her light joking for what it really was; in her own way, Lor was apologizing, she believed she was responsible for hurting her friend and putting him in danger.

Aerin squeezed her hand; I wouldn't trade this wound for all the health in the world.

Fool, Lor noted, with a sniff.

You know, noted Aerin, I'm actually feeling better now that we're up and moving.

Lor considered it for a moment, You're right, my head is starting to clear a little.

You're both crazy, it will be weeks before you get better, Dono noted, from between them. He had one arm around each of their waists and one of their arms draped over his shoulders.

And whose fault is that? Lor asked and then immediately regretted her words; it had been Dono she had leaped to save when the Tog had slashed her with his massive sword.

I'll make it up to you, Dono promised.

Yes, you will; I'll expect you to cook dinner for months to come, she said, to try and make light of her previous comment.

Whatever you want, Lor, Dono promised in a soft tone.

Katek led them into a passage that split off the side of the entrance cavern. The passage led them through numerous turns and twists while passing various caverns. Never once did they run into a living Togroth, but in more than one place they found slaughtered remains of the massive beasts.

Each time they came upon a pile of bodies, Aerin searched them with his eyes, praying he wouldn't see Gandarel, Mara, Yearl or Tocor. After what seemed an endless time, Katek called a halt and they all rested. Dono helped Lor and Aerin drink from a waterskin.

Katek gently undid Aerin's shirt to inspect his wound, fully expecting to find the deep cut reopened from all the activity. Instead, he found it sealed and fully scabbed over.

What is this? It isn't possible, he muttered and then he went to inspect Lor's wound.

Hey, keep your hands to yourself, she growled.

I want to see if you are healing as rapidly as Aerin, he explained.

Lor checked her own wound and found that she was healing just as rapidly.

Aerin recalled something Yearl had said when he had shown Aerin how to Bond Lor in order to save her life. Yearl said something about us healing faster now.

Katek nodded. I remember, though I thought little about it until now. Is this what it means to be a NexLord?

I don't know, Katek, but I'm going to have to learn. Aerin inspected the two golden chain marks that were indelibly engraved on his wrists; one was thicker than the other.

They spent a few hours sleeping while Dono and Katek took turns on watch. When Katek re-lit the torch with his tinderbox, Lor happened to look closely at her wrist.

Hey! Lor suddenly complained, I've got one of those chain marks on my wrists as well!

Aerin felt her dismay and went over to inspect Lor's marks and noted that there was a single circlet of connected chain links on each of her wrists, exactly the same as the new, smaller one, on his own wrists.

This really cuts, Lor complained, now I'm branded, like... like CATTLE!

Aerin shrugged, I'm sorry, next time you're dying I'll leave you be.

Damn straight, Lor answered, with her expression one of feigned disgust. Otherwise, I'll probably wake up with a ring through my nose, or something.

Maybe you should just dodge better next time, so we don't have to listen to you complain about your friends saving your life? Katek noted.

If I wasn't feeling like shit, you would be busy dodging about now, Lor responded.

Katek stood, Well if you are feeling good enough to bitch, I think you should be ready to move. There's only one problem.

Oh and what's that? Aerin asked, using the wall to get to his feet.

I'm completely lost.

Really? I think the exit is that way, Aerin said, pointing.

Katek gave him a puzzled look. How do you know?

Aerin shrugged, I must remember this room.

Right, Dono said, shaking his head, but moving in the direction Aerin had pointed.

I think you're just starting to lose it, Lor noted, but also followed Dono.

Aerin spread his arms apart with palms up, Hey, you become a NexLord and this is the respect you get?

After traveling through several different caverns and passages, they found themselves at the exit from the caves.

Well light my fire, he did know where he was going, Lor noted as they came out into the morning light.

They carefully looked around the boulders for signs of waiting Togs and then worked their way through and out to the path beyond. They were high up in the Dragonback Mountains, but instead of the pleasant meadow that they had passed through on their way in, the ground was covered with dead Togs. From their vantage point, they were looking down-slope and could see a large number of the dead beasts. They were in a fan pattern as if all of them had been scattering from a single point when they fell dead. There was a large circular area in the center that was free of Tog bodies. It was the strangest sight any of them had ever seen. Somewhere near seven hundred bodies all fallen dead while fleeing.

What in Gedin's name could do this? Dono wondered.

It's the Dreadmaster's work, Aerin decided.

They all nodded in agreement. There wasn't a mark on the dead Togs, but their faces were all frozen in a rictus of terror.

Dono rubbed his forehead in thought, But aren't these things under his control? Why would the Dreadmaster kill his own warriors?

No one had an answer for that question.

Well, these three were sure hacked up the normal way, Katek noted, pointing at three bodies nearby.

Perhaps these were done by Yearl or Tocor, protecting Mara, Aerin wondered.

Could be, it makes sense that she passed through here, she didn't seem to be in the caves anymore, Lor put in.

None of them mentioned the thought that they all shared, Mara might lay dead in some dark passage or chamber that they had missed.

That must be it, she left, following Gandarel. I'll bet he was captured by some of the Togs! Dono decided.

That's right! Mara said that Gandarel was what they came for, Aerin agreed.

She would follow them to the ends of the world if they took Gandarel, Lor added.

That's it then, she followed the Togs, Katek agreed.

They stood silent for a time, looking at the carnage.

Well, now what? Dono finally asked.

I don't know, Aerin answered.

They were all looking at him expectantly.

Aerin scowled at his friends. What? What? Now that I've got these damn marks on my wrist, I'm supposed to make all the decisions?

Well, I don't know what we're supposed to do, Dono noted.

Yearl said we should go to the capital, Katek remembered.

Aerin shook his head, No, if the Togs got Gandarel, they would go east, toward the wastelands. And if Mara gets him free, they will probably go to Strakhelm first, so that's where I think we should go. Besides, if we're wrong and Gandarel is free, he might be fleeing the Togs. If that is the case, he would head for the protection of his Guardsmen, in the Seat of Stone.

Lor grinned, Sure, WE'RE the ones forcing you to make the decisions.

Katek looked at Aerin for a moment, then smiled, Aye, Milord, we go to Strakhelm.

Milord? Aerin asked.

The other three grinned and started down the path, leaving Aerin standing.

MILORD? he asked again, this time to their backs.

Chapter Two

My dreams continue and tonight was no different. I saw a great throne room and I stood behind the throne. Before me was a three-headed man. A giant Tog was advancing on the throne with a large knife. I turned when I heard a low chuckle from my left and saw Gandarel's councilman, Enolive. He was watching and there was laughter in his eyes.

-From the Prophecies of Doom

With Aerin and Lor wounded, it took the entire day to reach the wagon parked down in the Eigen Pass. It was with great relief that they found the hidden wagon right where Tocor had left it, for night was falling and it was swiftly growing cold.

There were enough supplies left in the wagon to sustain them and even provision them, for their continued journey.

Huddled around the swiftly constructed fire, Katek took another look at Aerin's wound.

Cut me, this is ridiculous, he noted.

Aerin frowned at him, What's the problem?

You are healing too fast. I've seen many a wound and even when healing herbs are used and the person rests, it takes much longer for them to heal. Your scabs are starting to peel; scar tissue has already formed.

Really? That's good news!

Katek frowned, Of sorts, yes.

Lor was picking at the fire with a small stick and flicked a tiny glowing ember in Katek's direction. Katek would rather see us in pain and bleeding.

In some ways, I would. This smacks of magic; I don't really like magic. I'm not even sure I believe in it.

How can you dislike something you don't even believe in? Lor questioned, feeling a little mischievous.

Aerin felt Lor's mischievous mood and suddenly wondered at it. He remembered feeling other things from her during the day, but they had known each other so long, he had just assumed the feelings were his own, triggered by what she was saying. He had been interested in going to sleep, but he suddenly felt the need for amusement at Katek's expense. He decided that this new sensing needed testing and better understanding. He needed to confirm if it was true and find out if it only extended to Lor.

He thought of an experiment.

Lor, in the meantime, was waiting on Katek's answer, like a cat waiting for a mouse to move.

Katek scowled at Lor and answered her question. Maybe I just dislike the thought of people falling for tricks.

Ah, but then this couldn't 'smack' of magic unless you think this fast healing is some sort of trick? Perhaps Aerin and I have secretly been applying makeup over our wounds, which are bloody and festering underneath?

I didn't say that I just don't understand it and that makes it SEEM like magic.

I see, that means a lot of the world must seem like magic, to you, Lor noted.

Katek's scowl deepened, but before he could speak Aerin broke in, Lor, forgive me for this, but I wish your mother had been able to use this healing magic.

Aerin realized that his test was a bit cruel, but he wanted to make Lor experience something that only she would feel. Bringing up her recently departed mother would cause an emotional response in her, but not in Katek.

Lor looked away for a moment into the dark, remembering her loss. I wish it too, Aerin.

Aerin felt the pain as a new wound in his gut and knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he WAS feeling Lor's emotions.

Please, Lor, forgive me. I did not bring back the pain of your mother’s death for naught, Aerin explained.

What do you mean? Lor asked, her mind going off her mother at Aerin's statement, he felt the pain beginning to lessen.

Just a moment, Lor… Katek, please forgive me as well, but I must try one more thing.

I don't understand, Katek answered.

Do you miss Temmen, Katek? Aerin asked, bringing up his friend's mentor, who had been killed in the Arena.

What kind of question is that? Katek said, standing angrily. He was hurt with the pain of remembering his lost teacher and both hurt and angry that Aerin would infer that he might not care about it anymore.

Aerin felt Katek’s anger and hurt, but it was much weaker than Lor’s emotions. Again, I apologize. Let me explain, to both of you. I just tried an experiment, where I made you both emotional about something, at separate times. Lor, I strongly felt your pain, but I could just pick up Katek's pain and anger.

What? Lor demanded, confused.

Here, let's try one more experiment. Do you hate the man who murdered my parents and killed Temmen?

I'll help you hunt the bastard down, if that's what you are asking, Lor answered.

No, I mean, deep in your heart, do you hate him?

No, dislike maybe, because I know you hate him.

Aerin considered Phassic. He pictured the large muscular man, who sported the fake chain marks of a NexLord on his wrists. He thought back to the day he had led the Togroths in the attack on his parent’s wagon and murdered them in cold blood. He remembered and he hated the man.

Now do you hate him? Aerin asked his friend quietly.

The flames were reflecting off Lor's sober face and her eyes suddenly narrowed. You're right, I do hate the bastard. If I ever run into him I'm going to cut out his liver and feed it to stray dogs.

It's as I thought, we're sharing emotions, Lor, Aerin said softly.

The log in the fire popped, sending a small ember flying.

Excuse me? Lor said, puzzled by Aerin's statement.

I've been experimenting, when I talked about your mother, I felt your pain. When I talked to Katek of his teacher, I felt a little of his emotional response. A moment ago, I thought about Phassic, remembering what he had done and I hated him, the moment I felt that deep emotion you suddenly hated him as well. We're feeling each other’s emotions and we can pick up others as well.

Horse crap, Katek stated.

Because Katek declared it wrong, Lor was willing to consider it for a moment. I don't believe I actually hated that man until I felt your emotion, it is strange.

Not really, Lor, if you think about it, we are 'Bonded', that has to mean something. They talk of NexLord powers, perhaps the healing and this sensing of emotions are what they meant, Aerin proposed.

But what good is it? I mean, other than for upsetting each other?

What if you were in danger and I sensed your fear, I could come to help, Aerin noted.

More like it would be the other way around, Lor replied dryly.

Dono stared at them thoughtfully.

Katek reclined onto his blanket and pulled it over his body. Can you two sense this emotion? I'm annoyed. Can you guess why?

Lor grinned, Are we keeping you from your beauty sleep? I guess we should let you get some rest, you might scare us to death in the morning if you get any uglier.

Katek rolled over, putting his back to his three friends.

Gandarel Trelic sat on the throne in the Fortress of Fear. His dark eyes were sunk deep into his face as he contemplated his miserable life. In an all too brief time, he had fallen and become all that he once hated. He despised himself and all those that had brought him to such a state. Contemplating his horrid existence, his gaze was turned inward; he didn't even see the enormous throne room around him. It was made from massive blocks of red desert stone, its color stained bloody red by the flickering flames burning in round shallow pans, that stood high atop twisted metal poles, which ended on the floor in wide triangular bases.

Over and over again, Gandarel saw that moment of panic, when he had abandoned his closest friend and though Gandarel had tried to stop, he had tried too late. Aerin was dead, because of his cowardice. The pain and horror he felt as he relived this memory, was too much. Quickly, Gandarel pushed it down with the powerful hate that gathered around him, like a dark blanket. Gandarel hated everything. He hated his father for dying and leaving him to make decisions too weighty for a young boy. He hated his council for forcing him to go to the capital, with the Bluecoat soldiers, to take on the responsibilities of the Warlord. He hated the Regent for sending the Bluecoats to escort him back, like some prisoner, which was exactly what he had been, a prisoner to his duty. He hated his teacher, Mara, for forcing him to attempt the test to become a NexLord, for making him enter the Wall, in the Chamber of Stone, before he was ready. She had pressured him and pressured him with her precious prophecies. She never asked if he wanted to be the savior of the world. When he thought of the creatures around him, he found that he hated the Togs for attacking and killing Lor and he hated the Dreadbeasts for forcing Mara to leave and defend them when he needed her strength to enter the test. And more than anyone else, he hated himself for his cowardice.

I am damned, I have killed my friend, Gandarel repeated aloud, beginning the circle of dark thoughts in his mind, once again.

Beside the throne, his new teacher, Enolive, The Betrayer, stood vigilant and answered his words though they had not been meant for him.

You did not kill your friend; it was the woman, Mara, who forced you to enter the test, unprepared.

I killed him, but you are right, I am not alone in the blame. Mara should not have made me go in and you are to blame for what has happened as well, I hate you all. Gandarel’s voice was raw with emotion.

Betrayer stayed a step behind the throne, but answered the accusation. I did not force you to your role, I but gave you what you wished. Remember, Milord, it was I who told you not to enter the Wall. You were not ready and no one should have forced you to enter.

I still hate you, Gandarel stated, his eyes never wavering from where he stared into a flame.

Yes, Betrayer noted, almost gleefully, I feel it. Your hatred is pure and strong, Master. It will serve you well. But do you think that I forced you to make your choice?

Gandarel's voice shook with hatred as he spoke, You have made me what I have become. You encouraged me and showed me the way and gave me the power of the Dreadmaster! You invited these... others into my mind.

I admit I have shown you the way, for I serve the Dreadmaster with all that I am, but I did not force you, or make your choices for you. I only gave you what you wanted, revenge. The Togs you killed were soldiers in our army, but did I stop you from killing them? You wanted pain and death, you begged for it, you demanded it, so I gave you what you wanted. In the end, it was the power of your hatred and the channeling of the fear, that called the power of the Dreadmaster to you. Not only did I not, but I could not have done it. I am created from that power and have no control over it. Of all beings on this planet, we, the Risen, are the only ones you can trust, for we came from you. Without your hate, without your power, we are nothing. You are creator and master to us. We cannot covet your power, for we are your power.

You say that I created you, but I have only brought the Dragon into the world.

You are the Dreadmaster reborn; you are the Creator and the Destructor. There is no other. The Dragon is only the latest in your creations.

Why me? Why after all these years, did the power of the Dreadmaster have to come to me?

It came because you called it unto you. Logan was the first Dreadmaster, but to gain the power he had to enter the pool of fear and meld. Then, when his body was destroyed and the power of the Dreadmaster cast adrift, the man named Maugh sought the power. Yet, with all the hatred in the dark pit of his heart, he could not call the power. In order to become the second Dreadmaster he had to cross the wastelands and make his way to the sphere of power left where Logan's body had perished. But you, Gandarel Trelic, you called the Dreadmaster’s power over the vast distances of the world. You called it like no other being could, for you are the Dreadmaster foretold in Prophecy. You are the one that combined the channeling of the NexLord and the power of the Dreadmaster. No being can destroy you, so it is foreseen and written, even by your enemies.

I don't want it, Gandarel answered.

It isn't for you to decide anymore, it is done, there is no 'you' and 'it'. You are the Dreadmaster, forever; it is a part of you as you are a part of it. Do with the power as you choose.

Gandarel grew silent for a time and inside his mind, a new part of himself was arguing. It wasn't the kind of argument he was used to, nor one he understood. There were thoughts inside his mind that were not his. Or perhaps they were? He didn't know. It was all so confusing. Ever since he had destroyed the Togs at the entrance to the caves, he felt as if his mind was jammed with other minds and it confused him.

We must marshal the Togs and bring the West to its knees, he thought, yet Gandarel did not think it was his own thought, though it sounded in his mind as if it were. But there was a different 'flavor' to these thoughts, a subtle difference. Gandarel was starting to think of them as separate entities, though they were only thoughts. There was something emotionally different about these thoughts. In the past two days, he had identified two separate types of thoughts as being different from his own. He called them 'Fire' and 'Snake' as a way of differentiating the two thought patterns.

It was Fire who had just decided they should marshal the Togs for an attack.

But Snake had a different thought about an outright attack; his thought came in clear rebuttal to the thoughts of Fire: We must not forget what happened the last time we attacked the West head on. Lack of foresight cost us three hundred years!

At that moment, a group of Tog leaders entered the throne room. Their red eyes took in the scene; a human boy sat on The Throne That Was Never Occupied. A man stood a pace behind the throne, cloaked in the shadows.

Gibok, The Knife, high commander of the Tog, realized that what he had heard was true, a human boy pretended to the throne of the Dreadmaster and thought he could command the Tog. Gibok decided that this boy was sorely wrong.

I am Gibok, The Knife, I command the Tog. By what right do you dare sit upon this throne? he demanded.

He spoke in the Togroth tongue and Gandarel found that since Fire and Snake knew the language, so did he. Gandarel's soul was empty and his eyes mirrored that emptiness when he turned his gaze on the solid red orbs of the massive Tog who had spoken.

I AM the Dreadmaster, Gandarel stated. In his mind, he noted it had been Snake who put the words in his mouth.

You are only a boy who is about to die! I am the commander of the Tog and we bow to no false human!

Betrayer stepped forward and the light from two fires to either side of the throne cast shadows within the hood he had pulled up over his head. I am Betrayer and it is I who has brought the new Dreadmaster to his throne. Bow, maggot, before your soul is taken!

I do not follow the word of Betrayer! Pain is our master and he has not returned from the human border, so I am in command, Gibok pulled the wide blade dagger that had gotten him his name and pointed it toward the throne.

Betrayer chuckled dryly and backed up into the recess behind the throne. Come and meet your new master, Gibok.

Gibok hesitated a moment, but the other Tog commanders were watching him; if he backed down now they would know he was too weak to lead. Gibok advanced on the throne.

Gandarel's hatred for himself and all beings was a fire within him and when he stood from the throne and focused that hatred on the advancing Tog, it leaped from him like lightning to a pole. Gibok suddenly hated himself; he hated everything about himself. He thought of himself as the most worthless being on the planet, not worthy of a slave's spit. In complete disgust for the worthless creature that he was, he stopped and slit his own throat with such vehemence that he nearly decapitated himself. His body fell in a fountain of yellow blood at the base of the stairs to the Dreadmaster's throne.

In his mind, Gandarel heard Fire's thoughts and they came out of his mouth as words. I am your God and I am your Devil. Bow before me and beg that I take your life to spare you the fear and agony of living. I am the Dreadmaster and I have returned to my throne to bring down hatred and fear on the beings of this world. This time, when I am through, I will hold the heart of every being on the face of this planet in my hand and I will squeeze them for all eternity. Now, BEGONE! he screamed and the kneeling Tog commanders felt such fear that their bowels let loose and they crawled and scrambled to get out from under the eyes of the new Dreadmaster.

Chapter Three

"I saw a pack of dogs, snapping and fighting each other. Their master was the three-headed man and he ordered them to desist. One slinked off into the shadows and headed west; its evil eyes squinting with hatred while spittle dripped from its snarling maw. It was coming for someone and as it ran it shifted into the shape of a human.

- From the Prophecies of Doom

It took Aerin and his friends three weeks to return to Strakhelm. As they approached the West gate, Lor stopped and looked at the city. I want to say, ‘it's good to be home’, but something feels different.

Dono laughed, In six weeks?

No, really, Lor admonished, I think something has changed.

Katek nodded, Indeed, I believe you are right.

Lor grinned at Dono, See, Katek sees it too. What do you think it is, Katek?

You.

What?

Katek smiled, You have changed. Strakhelm is no longer the limits of your world. It is never the same, when you go back home, once you have left the nest.

That's a bunch of crap, Lor stated.

Katek shrugged, Have it your way.

Lor looked at the city and then abruptly started forward toward the gate, with a purposeful stride.

Aerin noted the strange looks they were getting from the citizens of Strakhelm as they walked through the streets. Then it dawned on him that ordinarily, you didn't see young people their age strutting through the streets, armed to the hilt. They were asking for trouble if they ran into the Guard.

Let's fade to the roofs, Aerin suggested, We're making a scene.

When they reached their old residence, via the rooftops, they found it occupied by new tenants; there was no sign of Mara.

Maybe there is something to what you said about not going back, Dono noted as they looked down on the courtyard where they had spent so many hours learning from Mara, Tocor, and Yearl. The practice sand had been removed and a planter put in its place. All signs of a training yard, for armed combat, were gone.

Now what? Lor asked of the group. Do we go to the Seat and see if Gandarel has returned?

No one had a quick answer, but they looked to Aerin. So far, he had been running the show since Mara had disappeared.

I think Lor is right, let's go see if Gandarel is at the Seat. If not, well, there is one more place I know where Mara always goes, we'll check that out next.

And if Mara isn't there? Katek asked.

Then we'll decide what we're going to do. We don't have enough rations, or money, to get to the capital, so the next thing we will have to do is figure out how to fix that problem.

Aerin led the way across the roofs until they neared the inner-city gate that led into the Seat of Stone. They decided that Aerin would leave his weapons on the roofs and go to the gate alone to inquire after Gandarel. He soon returned with news that the guard still believed that Gandarel was on his way to the capital with the Bluecoats. It seemed that none of the soldiers had made it back to the city alive.

Aerin felt a pang of guilt as he considered the farmers that they had liberated from the Togroths and hoped, somehow, that they had survived.

Now what? Dono asked.

Now we go to that other place where I know Mara would visit, Aerin explained.

Katek gave him a puzzled look. I don't know of any other dwelling where Mara stayed.

She didn't stay there, but a crazy man she always seemed to look out for, lives there if you can call it living, Aerin explained.

Alright, lead the way, but are you sure YOU aren't the crazy guy she was looking out for? Lor asked with a grin.

Aerin led the way to Netter Street and the rundown buildings, where the man Mara had called, 'Ricard', lived. They observed for a while from the roofs, but there was no sign of activity.

Aerin pointed at one of the openings to the broken-down buildings. He lives in there; I'm going to go see if he is still inside.

I'm going with you, we don't need someone bashing you in the back of the head, you've got little enough brains to lead with, Lor noted.

Thanks, I think, Aerin replied, starting his descent to the street level.

Lor beat him to the bottom easily. Horse's butt, she commented, remembering the first day she had shown Aerin the High Road above Strakhelm.

You're just full of compliments today, Aerin noted with a half-smile.

Lor felt his amusement and smiled back at her friend.

They both loosened their weapons in their sheaths as they entered the dim interior of the building. It was much as Aerin remembered it and he moved toward the corner where Ricard kept his nest of junk. It was still there, but there was no sign of the raggedy man.

This is where he lived, Aerin explained, pointing at the mess in the corner.

Nice, Lor said sarcastically, drawing out the word. So, this is how Mara's pals end up in the end.

Aerin didn't comment on Lor's words, he didn't understand why Mara took care to watch over this man and if she did, why she left him like this. It made no sense.

Well, let's go, Aerin said, Mara might have come by and picked him up already.

There was a furtive movement from one of the holes in the wall and Lor swept a sword out from her sheath.

Aerin thought he recognized the shape and held his hand up over his head to signal Lor to hold her position. This caused Aerin's long sleeve to fall below the wrist and the new golden chain marks of a NexLord became visible.

Out of the gloom, Ricard's dirt clad body scooted forward, until Aerin could see him clearly. Ricard's eyes were glued on Aerin's wrist.

There was a strange sound from deep in his throat as if he was trying