Demon Lord IV: Lord of Shadows

By T C Southwell

A captive goddess, a doomed domain and a young dark god who must save the light... Even with his spirit father, Kayos, to guide him, Bane struggles to deny the dark power’s corrupting influence. A tar’merin may stray from the light if his heart is weak, and the darkness will try to seduce him. In order to retain his sanity and fight for the light, Bane must become the Lord of Shadows...

• Language: English
• Publisher: T C Southwell
• Release date: Dec 29, 2010
• ISBN: 9781458198570

T C Southwell

T. C. Southwell was born in Sri Lanka and moved to the Seychelles when she was a baby. She spent her formative years exploring the islands – mostly alone. Naturally, her imagination flourished and she developed a keen love of other worlds. The family travelled through Europe and Africa and, after the death of her father, settled in South Africa.T. C. Southwell has written over thirty fantasy and science fiction novels, as well as five screenplays. Her hobbies include motorcycling, horse riding and art, and she is now a full-time writer.

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Demon Lord IV

Lord of Shadows

T C Southwell

Published by T C Southwell at Smashwords

Copyright © 2011 by T C Southwell

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book 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 recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Chapter One – God Sight

Chapter Two – Mage Prince

Chapter Three – Fate

Chapter Four – Havoc

Chapter Five – Sanctuary

Chapter Six – Necromancer

Chapter Seven – The Seventh Ward

Chapter Eight – Trap

Chapter Nine – Fire Dance

Chapter Ten – Darkness Falls

Chapter Eleven – Dark Goddess

Chapter Twelve – Lord of Shadows

Chapter Thirteen – The Curse

Chapter Fourteen – Rebirth

Chapter Fifteen – Vengeance

Chapter Sixteen – Dark Temple

Prologue

The Demon Lord travels through the God Realm with Kayos, Mirra, Grem and Mithran to free Lyriasharin’s enslaved daughter, Ashynaria. They come upon a dying blue mage who begs Bane to save her goddess from the dark god who ravages her domain. Bane agrees only to free the goddess, but then she persuades him to cast Vorkon down. Drayshina’s domain is dying, the great cities protected by walls of blue fire, but it is only a matter of time before the dark power consumes the land.

When she falls into the dark god’s trap, Bane tries to save her, and is injured in the battle with Vorkon that follows. Queen Kyan agrees to help him create seven blue wards to trap Vorkon below, and assigns her most powerful mages, foremost of whom is her cowardly husband, Prince Tygon. He must create the seventh ward while Bane protects him and the other mages. Then Bane will have to face Vorkon again and cast him down so the wards can be activated and trap the dark god in the Underworld forever.

Chapter One

God Sight

Bane leant back as the carriage rattled along the rough road outside the City of Avadorn, already a pillar of blue fire in the distance. Prince Tygon and the Blue Council’s senior mage, Shrea, were as taciturn as Bashir had been loquacious, but he found that less annoying. The fiery rain had forced them to raise the carriage’s roof, but the dimness outside the city was more pleasing to Bane than the sunlight had been. Judging by their bilious expressions, the dark power in the air made the blue mages queasy. It had been present in the city as well, seeping up from the ground, but in far lesser quantities than it was here, for the sunlight held it at bay. He closed his eyes, then sat up with a jerk, opening them again.

Prince Tygon looked concerned. What is wrong, My Lord?

Nothing. Bane leant back and closed his eyes again. Within the blackness of his mind, two pale lights hovered where Tygon and Shrea sat, one tinged with red and the other with yellow. He opened his eyes, finding that the yellow-tinged one was Tygon. So the phenomenon in the village had not been a fleeting aberration brought on by his need; he could now see people’s souls. Curious, he closed his eyes again and studied the dozen closely-packed lights in the wagon behind them.

Several were yellow, one was blue, another was green and four were pink, while the rest were a mixture of two or more colours; except for one. Bane frowned. One was almost invisible, because it was dull red, hidden by the brightness of the others. One of the soldiers in the wagon was a worshipper of evil. He opened his eyes, wondering if he should tell Tygon or deal with it himself, but the uproar it would cause might jeopardise the mission. The new power was disturbing, and he wondered why Kayos had touched him when they had first met, to establish whether or not he was tar’merin, when he could see souls so easily.

Setting the issue aside, he decided that enough time had passed since they had left the city, and became invisible. The blue mages swapped a worried glance, as if unsure of whether or not he was still with them. He resisted the dark power’s urging to amuse himself at their expense, and settled back to wait. The carriage rattled on, raising clouds of ash, and Tygon drew out a silken handkerchief to mop his brow. He studied the grey smear on it with a grimace of distaste, then tucked the cloth back into his pocket. The Prince’s cowardice irritated Bane, especially since he would be forced to work with the man.

Bane waited for the surge of dark power that would herald the arrival of the black mages. As the little convoy entered a belt of dead forest, however, six black-clad men leapt out from behind the trees, taking him by surprise. The warlocks wasted no time on taunting as the previous ones had done, having prepared themselves and recovered from their Move. Two of them flung bolts of shadow at the blue mages while the other four created shields. Tygon gave a girlish scream and threw up his arms, forming a shimmering blue shield, and Shrea gripped his arm, raising her own.

Bane gestured, and a black wall shot up from the ground, consuming the bolts of darkness. The carriage stopped and the soldiers in the wagons boiled from them en mass, pointing their silver tubes at the black mages. Beams of brilliant blue light shot from the weapons, struck the warlocks’ shields and mantled them in coruscating blue fire, eating away at the black. One mage staggered back, his shield consumed, and the soldiers concentrated their fire on him, making him scream and collapse. The others swung their shields to protect him, foiling the soldiers.

Bane wondered if the soldiers would triumph and how long it would take, but decided that if they did prevail, the mages would flee to save themselves. The first two flung another barrage of black bolts at the blue mages, which Bane’s shield consumed as easily as the first. Soon they would realise that their attack was futile, and Move, but for the moment the presence of his shield confused them, not knowing its source.

Bane raised an arm and pointed at the nearest black mage, unleashing a searing stream of shadow. The warlock’s shield held for only a moment, then he fell screaming as his skin blackened and smoke rose from his hair. The others gaped at their fallen comrade, and two tried to flee, withdrawing their shields to power their Move. Bane flicked his hand at them in the instant before they did, and they leapt into the air with agonised shrieks. One exploded with a thud, splattering his companions with blood and gore. The other fell writhing, his insides cooked.

The remaining three drew together, joining their shields into a more powerful, combined one. As long as they held it, none of them could Move. Bane became visible and stepped down from the carriage, signalling to the soldiers, who stopped firing. Bane stopped in front of the warlocks and gripped the edge of the black shield. The mages eyed him, their faces grim with the knowledge that they were doomed. They were middle-aged, in the prime of life, their features sculpted to handsomeness by the dark power. Curious, Bane closed his eyes. All three had dull red souls, and the three on the ground were now empty cadavers.

A shriek from the carriage made Bane open his eyes and look around. Shrea had shed her shield and tried to soothe Tygon, who cringed, his eyes screwed shut. When she touched him, he shuddered and shrieked.

This is the man you would serve, dark god? one of the black mages asked.

Bane faced him. I serve no one.

What do you hope to achieve?

I will free this domain.

The mage’s cold grey eyes flicked over him. You are mortal. Vorkon will kill you and destroy your soul unless you join him.

I will not. Nor will he kill me. We have already met.

This was a trap.

Yes.

The mage nodded. So you intend to kill us.

Of course.

We cannot fight you. We will surrender.

Bane smiled. No.

We will cast out our power.

No.

We will repent, become blue mages.

Bane shook his head. You are evil.

Perhaps the Consort should decide.

I have already decided.

Another shriek from the carriage was followed by a slap. Shrea muttered fierce words, and Tygon’s shield winked out. The dishevelled Prince Consort uncurled and raised his head, surveying his audience as he made an effort to pull himself together. He ran a hand through his hair and tugged at his tunic, then stepped from the carriage with all the poise he could muster. The soldiers were ranged behind him, their silver weapons lowered, and Bane closed his eyes briefly, locating the evil one amongst them. Shrea half-dragged Tygon over to Bane.

Do I have to watch this? Tygon mumbled.

Better if you do not, Bane replied with a scathing look.

Tygon nodded and started to turn away.

One of the warlocks cried, Mercy, Prince Consort!

Releasing his portion of the shield, he dropped to his knees. At the same moment, the other two drew in the shield’s power and the soldier raised his weapon, pointing it at Tygon. Bane spun, sent Tygon sprawling with a push and unleashed a lash of dark fire at the soldier. The man leapt into the air with a strangled cough, but Bane was already swinging back to face the mages.

Two tried to Move, gesturing to aid their concentration. One faded, and Bane struck at him first. All movement around him became torpid, and he realised that he had taken hold of time again, but he did not know how. The dark fire struck the fading mage, and his cry echoed back as he vanished, certainly dead before he reached his destination. The second died before he could attempt to Move, and the third flung up his hands and formed a shield, which slowed Bane’s power for a few moments, then the last warlock expired with a howl.

The Demon Lord lowered his hands, finding everyone frozen in place, and wondered if he had somehow stopped time, and, if so, how he could start it again. Then Tygon slumped in a dead faint, and the tableau shattered as people rushed to his side. Bane gave a snort of disgust, glancing at the soldier he had killed. A comrade knelt beside the body, staring at Bane, his expression horrified and angry. Bane approached him, and the soldier stood up, hefting his weapon.

Why did you kill him?

He was a worshipper of evil. He was aiming his weapon at the Consort.

The soldier eyed him. I don’t believe you. He was a good man.

Bane spread his hands and smiled. So shoot me. His soul belonged to Vorkon. Worshippers of the dark are good liars.

So are dark gods.

True. But if I am lying, why did I bother to kill him? I had enough to do at the time.

I don’t know.

Ignorance is bliss. Bane considered the silver tube the man held. I am curious about your weapons. How much damage can they do?

A lot.

They did not seem too effective against the mages.

They had shields.

Bane nodded. And against a normal man?

He would die instantly, with a hole through him.

Indeed? How interesting. Bane held up his hand. Shoot me.

The soldier gaped. What?

Shoot me. In the hand. I want to see.

You have shields too.

I am not using any. That would be pointless, would it not?

I can’t.

Bane tilted his head. Why not? You do know how to use it, do you not?

Of course. But without orders, I would be in trouble.

I am giving you an order. Do you see anyone here who outranks me?

The soldier shook his head. No, My Lord, but if you were hurt...

I will take it as a learning experience.

You would be angry, and strike me down.

Bane smiled. If you do not obey, I will just make you do it.

You can do that?

Of course.

The soldier glanced around for support, but his companions looked away and the officers stood blank-faced. Shrea, who knelt beside Tygon, grimaced. The soldier gulped and raised the weapon, pointed it at Bane’s hand and retreated a few steps. Bane closed the gap and pressed his hand to the end of the silver tube.

Shoot.

My Lord, at that range...

Just do it.

The soldier hesitated, then screwed up his face, turned his head aside and activated his weapon. Brilliant blue light flared at the end of the tube, and a sharp pain lanced through Bane’s hand. The dark power beneath his skin deflected the blue fire, and it shot back into the weapon, which melted. The soldier dropped it with a yelp, and Bane hissed and snatched his hand back, shaking it. The man spat on his reddened palms, trying to cool them, and Bane inspected the slight red mark on his palm.

Ouch.

The soldier said, I’m sorry, My Lord.

Bane frowned. Interesting.

One of the officers observed, He was only doing as you wished, My Lord.

I know. Bane cast him an irritated look. Perhaps you should tend to him, not pick on me.

Yes, My Lord. The officer took a canteen from his belt and poured water over the soldier’s hands. Bane strode back to the carriage, gesturing to the comatose Prince Consort.

Put him in the carriage. We must return to the city.

When the soldiers had remounted the wagons, the little cavalcade headed back to Avadorn.

Kayos sipped his ambrosia and chuckled, gazing into the Eye, which followed the three vehicles along the road. Syrin, who watched over his shoulder, returned to the bed and sat down, smiling. Mirra stood on the other side of the Grey God, and Mithran and Grem peered over her shoulders.

Kayos waved his cup at the Eye. He is a child. He still experiments, like a baby testing the end of a pin with a finger. His power fascinates him, and he plays with it. And he is curious about you, little angel. Beware he does not decide to toy with you, to see how you react. The Grey God shook his head. So much power in the hands of one so young.

You fear him? Syrin enquired.

Kayos considered, a little sad. Anyone who does not, be he mortal or god, is a fool.

But you are far more powerful than him, Lord.

He snorted. It is not a matter of how much power we have, but what kind, silly child. I have the power to create all this. He gestured expansively. But he has the power to destroy it. Who do you think is more dangerous?

You could kill him.

His mortal body, yes. But once he rose as a true god... He shook his head again and sipped his ambrosia. Dark gods have ever plagued and destroyed us, all but the Seven. Fortunately they destroy each other far more often, so as many as rise from dark realms, others are destroyed, keeping the balance.

Has a light god never been able to kill one of the dark ones?

"No one has ever been able to wield the white power in a destructive manner, although many have tried, including myself. Some have created mortals and channelled it through them, but always at the cost of the mortal’s life. But Vayter did destroy a dark god once, many aeons ago. They met in the God Realm, and the dark god came upon Vayter so suddenly he could not flee, so he cast up his shields and hid within them. The dark god hammered at his shields for many years, and Vayter, growing bored, put himself into a deep slumber.

"In his slumber, he dreamt, and, unknown to him, there was a realm seed within the sphere of his influence. It was buried in solid rock, trapped there when its domain collapsed. In his dreams, Vayter created a domain of unimaginable horrors, where all the laws were broken, and the realm seed bloomed, following his dream. When the realm gate appeared, the dark god, intrigued, entered it. The horrors within must have been truly terrible, and when the dark god tried to escape, he found that the realm gate had vanished and the domain was collapsing.

It did not disintegrate and free him. It closed like a mighty fist. A god cannot pass through a domain’s boundary. It contains powerful wards much like those the blue mages will create between Lightworld and Darkworld in this domain, except far more powerful. The dark god was trapped, and so was the Oracle. When the domain crushed the Oracle it unleashed its power, and the dark god was destroyed. Kayos shrugged. At least, that is what I heard. I have not seen Vayter for ages.

Amazing, Syrin murmured.

Kayos grunted, watching the three vehicles enter the city.

Bane stepped down from the carriage before it stopped moving, impatient. Tygon tottered after him, pasty faced and downcast, Shrea at his side. Bane stopped within the hall and turned to the Prince Consort.

I want Bashir and Kimera brought here, and bring me a map of this domain.

Tygon gave the order to a hovering officer, and then motioned towards a door in the side of the hall. There are maps in here, My Lord.

Bane followed the blue mages into a room furnished with a polished wooden table surrounded by ten high-backed chairs. A vast map hung on the far wall, covered with the snaking lines of borders and rivers.

There must be seven wards, Bane said as he studied it. The first one should be here. He pointed to a place at the top.

Tygon frowned at the spot. The Rathgarian Wastelands. A terrible place, My Lord. Icy tundra swept by cold winds.

Four more must be arranged in a pentagram, thus. Bane sketched the shape with a finger, ignoring the sour Prince. And two in the centre, linked with the others, like so.

Shrea picked up a writing implement and marked the points Bane had indicated, then joined them with lines, forming a giant, pentagonal shape with lines running to the two central points within it.

Bane nodded. Yes.

Tygon scrutinised the markings. That puts the second ward in the Millaran Mountains and the third in the city of Ishkarad. That is in Vandin, and they are not our friends. A blue mage there would be in grave danger. They abhor magic.

They are at Vorkon’s mercy too, and plagued by demons as you are now.

Even so -

It must be created there, whether they like it or not.

Tygon wilted under Bane’s cold gaze. Yes, My Lord. But the Rathgarian Wastelands is many hundreds of leagues to the north. It will take months to get there.

You will not be walking.

Even on horseback -

I will take you.

Tygon looked like he wanted to run. Yes, My Lord.

Look. Shrea indicated a spot on the map. The seventh ward will be right here in Avadorn.

That is actually the first ward, but will be created last, Bane said. The seventh is the one that you will create, Tygon.

The Consort appeared puzzled. But that will be the first.

They are named in the order of their power, not of their creation. The most powerful is the seventh.

This one could be a problem, Shrea said, studying the location of the second ward. It is in the middle of a river.

It does not have to be exact.

Then the third ward does not have to be in Ishkarad? Tygon asked.

Moving a ward location to avoid a river is one thing, but for a bunch of people? Bane shook his head. That ward, which is actually the fifth, will be in Ishkarad.

My Lord, they are atheists. They will stone the mage to death.

I will not let them.

Of course, My Lord.

Bane shot Tygon an impatient look, irritated by the man’s subservience. Shrea distracted him, deliberately, he suspected.

Will you be taking all four of us to our destinations, My Lord?

Obviously.

Then I will be going to the Millaran Mountains and Bashir to Ishkarad. Kimera will go to... She peered at the map. …Rith Forest.

What is your mastery?

Links, My Lord.

And Bashir and Kimera?

Illusions and runes.

Bane nodded and turned to Tygon. You have made your preparations?

He hesitated. I did not know where I was going.

Then you had better find some warm clothes. I will Move Kimera first, then Bashir and Shrea.

Prince Tygon headed for the door, where he almost bumped into Bashir, who bowed