The Unifier Part 2

Vast clouds of blowing sand obscured the horizon, looming large against the backdrop of a bloodred sky. I strode forward hunched, chin tucked into my chest as I struggled to put one foot in front of the other. The wind screamed as it whipped past, racing directly at me and tugging at the ends of my cloak as they snapped along behind. My iron foot sank deep into the unstable dunes of this grand southern desert, and with every step I had to pry it free from layers of sand that rushed in to cover it.

This was where Foebreaker and Earth-Eater had made their lair following the death of the Demonlord. Some reports even indicated that they’d ventured out here even before his untimely demise. Whatever the truth of the matter, the two generals were notoriously self interested, a fact that I hoped would make recruiting them to my cause a simple matter. Nevertheless, finding them to begin with was proving to be quite the endeavor. I was running out of time.

It had taken me four days to reach my current bearing, and the journey had been far from easy. The wasteland where the generals had slipped into their silent exile was seemingly boundless, devoid of anything except rolling dunes and raging storms. Nothing, it seemed, could withstand the raging wind and constant storms of driving sand, not even man, who elsewhere seemed so determined to insert himself into every nook and cranny of the natural world. There was, too, a strange sense of energy that dwelled deep within the sands of this forsaken corner of the continent, the faintest tug at the tides of the Gift that lapped within my being.

Lightning crackled in the dark clouds ahead, which raced across the sky on wings of blackened fury, their shadows cast long over the sand. I raised my hands to shield my face as the storm engulfed me. Whispers resounded in my ears as I slowly trudged forward, voices of another time and another world, memories of history long past and futures not yet been written. Earth-Eater was dreaming.

I stumbled as I reached the top of a tall dune, my iron foot caught and I toppled forward, sliding down the bank as my body slid deeper into the sand. I pushed myself back up, only to be met by the storm and the sand that piled in around me, threatening to bury me beneath the ground. My hands clawed at the ever changing surface, desperately reaching out for any kind of purchase in a landscape defined by its impermanence. Tremors grew within the depths of the earth just as the visions in my mind flashed in vivid detail. A pillar of saltstone in the crimson sands. A vast room adorned with the spiraling horns of countless prophets and warlords and kings. A throne, as black as night, grander than any in this realm or any other that captured the radiance of purple starlight within its chiseled confines.

I screamed and sand rushed into my mouth. It filled my throat and nose, hot and choking. I coughed and retched as I clawed my way, hand by hand back to the surface. Sand ran off me like the rushing waters of the river Uian over the rocks of Sorrow’s Delta as it met the bay. I staggered to my feet, turning into the wind and roaring with all the fury that burned within my chest. I straightened, pushed my chest forward, and for a long moment I stood against the storm, my eyes narrowed to slits against the raging torrent of sand and dust that assailed me with the force of a hurricane.

Suddenly, the wind stopped and the air deadened. I stumbled forward, feet sinking deep in the layers of newly deposited sand. The images in my mind faded and the ground ceased its trembling. Trickles of sand drifted slowly from the heavens, lightly dusting my head and shoulders as my breaths heaved ragged and loud in the newly still air. It was morning, and it occurred to me that I did not know how long I had spent battling the driving wind and sand. Only one thing was certain, I was not dead yet, and all the magics of that ancient and terrible serpent had not succeeded in burying my passion.

A figure appeared at the edge of my vision, a lone black silhouette under a perfect blue sky. Foebreaker’s form was that of a weary traveller garbed only in simple brown robes. A featureless mask of polished silver obscured his face, reflecting mine as he approached and confronted me. My own eyes, sunken, tired and milky white, looked back at me with bitter realization.

“Another aspirant seeks the Blood Throne.” His voice was as smooth and featureless as his mask, which bore no scratches or scars from the sands of the desert. Foebreaker stopped mere inches from me. He stood slightly taller than I, though thinner in the arms and chest, with a sort of wiry strength that had overcome dozens who’d underestimated him. I would not make the same mistake.

“I’ve come with an offer.” I replied, throat still dry from the sand. My voice came out rough and hoarse, and broke apart in my throat as I spoke.

A scornful chuckle escaped from beneath Foebreaker’s mask.

“You come with a demand.” He replied sourly. “Earth-Eater has shown me what you seek. I have seen in his dreams the folly of your endeavors. You will never sit atop the Blood Throne, no matter how many of the Uplifted call you Demonlord.”

“You don’t need to support my claim.” I replied, “But this fight–”

“Will be your ruin.” Ripples of ecstasy formed within Foebreaker’s soothing tone, “This Demonslayer has tipped the scales of cosmic balance. The last Demonlord could not stand up to his power, and you are a lesser being than he.”

“Earth-Eater’s dreams are but unseen paths in a dark forest.” I said, “There yet remains a chance to return home.”

“Of that I do not doubt.” Foebreaker replied, “But should you prevail in that miniscule chance, what then? Only one of the blood of Moelan can sit the throne, and you are but a common creature brought high by fame and circumstance. The Demonrealm will never accept your rule, just as the Gift never accepted your bastard daughter. To think, the name of Emphialeyne was soiled because of your lust.” His fists clenched in anger.

“You dare?” I spat. Had I the strength, I would have drawn forth my sword, but my body was still weak from the ferocity of the storm and the lingering exhaustion from the strain of Skythrasher’s Uplifting. The most I could manage was a shaky step forward.

“She was my kin long before she ever glimpsed you.” Foebreaker replied, “By rights of the True Descendants, our blood was to be kept unspoilt.”

“To hell with blood.” I said, “Outside of my veins, it has no use to me. My titles have been won by deed alone, same as the love of your sister. You dishonor her in death with your words, and you dishonor yourself in life by refusing the summons of your Demonlord. I summon you to my aid in my hour of need, as you have sworn to do by your grace of the Gift. You will heed my call, or you will be destroyed.”

“You hold no power here.” Foebreaker responded, “You are broken and weak, defeated by the weakling races of this realm. You lost your foot and your honor when you accepted defeat at the hands of the Demonslayer. There is no law among our people that states that I must heed the call of a Demonlord who cannot stand in solidarity.”

A great tremor took hold in the ground. I struggled to keep my balance as the earth jolted and a massive chasm yawned open just behind Foebreaker. From its depths rose a gargantuan maw bearing row upon row of spiraling, needlelike teeth. The great pale monstrosity extended from the chasm, reaching a height of two hundred feet before it bent down, a singular, cyclopean eye opening from within the depths of its cavernous interior to gaze down at me with amber curiosity.

‘ILOEMNUM’ said he, Earth-Eater, child of Irontooth.

“You cannot think–” Foebreaker began.

‘ILOEMNUM’ Earth-Eater repeated. His words never spoke aloud, for his maw was too vast and ungainly to perform such dignified sounds. Instead, his voices resounded in our heads by way of the Gift, crying in the agonizing cacophony of a thousand tones.

“Not you.” Foebreaker cried, his voice taking on a desperate edge. The silver mask turned back towards the worm. “He cannot be! You have shown me dreams of his failure, of our ruin! He does not possess the blood of Moelan!”

‘ILOEMNUM NAR ASTE DALKAR’ Earth-Eater boomed. His words brokered no argument. ‘ILOEMNUM EMARST ILO’

I grimaced. Earth-Eater’s words bespoke terrible prophecy. He seemed to believe demonkind’s days neared their end. It was said only the Unifier could save the Demonrealm from the end of days, and for a reason that eluded me in that moment, the massive earth serpent looked to me as he spoke the words of that ancient predication.

The Unifier comes at the end of days. The Unifier returns home.