A Necromancer's Gift

[Daegan]

Thunder exploded overhead as the ravaging Undead seemed to shift there attention upwards. The raging storms that had swept across the lands for a weeks time threatened to return. Already bolts of lightning had claimed thousands of the Undead, causing them to go into a fury and sending there already crazed minds deeper into the bowels of insanity.

Azure lightning crackled across the dark storm clouds billowing over Tarthia, the Undead chattering with anxiety as another clap of thunder exploded overhead. Daegan lurked in the raging storm clouds, his form manifested into the storm through the power of the Arc of Lightning. His mind had relinquished itself to the erratic element, wishing only for it to carry out his will. The Arc of Shadows was only a source of fuel at this point, driving the storm onwards.

Savage battles broke up amongst the already chaotic ranks of the Undead, zombie turning on zombie as the terrifying noise of the impending thunderstorm raged above. Small bolts of azure lightning surged outwards to strike clusters of the infernal creatures, sending those fortunate enough not to be struck with the pure energy running. The large clusters of the Undead were breaking apart as the storm worked itself into the heart of the City.

Where the Mistress of the Undead dwelled.

A single bolt of azure lightning crashed down in the center of the courtyard outside the Keep Sitherack had called home. Daegan smirked as the bright light flashed away from him, a portion of the light seeming to stay in the white light that glowed around his body. The smirk seemed to grow, the Soul Fire erupting around Daegan’s form as it exploded in his eyes.

The Undead legions he had descended upon turned frantically to stare at the glowing Sage who only smirked back at them. The Soul Fire burned brightly around him as Daegan lifted his arms into the air, the small clearing the bolt of lightning had made around him exploding outwards with invisible energy. Harnessing the blackness within his very being, Daegan forced the nether energy outwards, amplifying it with the powers of the combined Arcs of Shadow and Lightning.

Bolts of the azure electricity continued to strike groups of Undead as Daegan forced his energy outwards. The rites of the ancient necromancers that had been passed down to him from his bastard father, the rites he performed over and over again in the City of Shadow to raise the Elite Shadow Army. The very essence of death that was as apart of Daegan as his own element.

Undead after Undead seemed to shudder and twitch as there eyes were overtaken by the same color that glowed around Daegan’s form. The ghastly flame that danced over the Necromancer, flickering with arcs of lightning and that wretched white light. The lurched forward only once, waves of terror soon taking them over as the fury of Daegan overtook them.

Daegan slashed his arms through the air, motioning for the Undead to rush off to surround the Keep that Deirdre had most likely returned to. He was covering his bases and biding his time, just in case his tactics with his Undead daughter would not work. At least he may have time to retreat if things went pear shaped.

Slowly, he moved towards the keep, forcing his energy through the Arc of Shadows to locate his daughter’s location. He may not be able to manifest in the Realm of Shadows, but he could use the power of the Arc of Shadows to see through it. He continued forward as the shadows crept through the Keep, slithering through the darkness to locate the creature of the Sage’s desire.

He moved up and into the Keep like a phantom, the Soul Fire dying down to burn only in his eyes as he entered the dark structure. The shadows slithered outwards from him as if he was some sort of strange octopus, tendrils of the murky substance not able to touch his form because of the glowing light around him. Lightning danced over his body with each step as he moved through the tower, searching out the wielder of the Arc of Death.

The shadows carried his words throughout the Tower. They carried his voice, his essence and his feelings of love. They stretched around the keep as he walked inside it, calling for his daughter. Begging for her to come see her estranged and psychotic father who so longed to see her.

“Deirdre… its Daddy. Let me see you one more time…”

[Sitherack's Soul]

The chaos that reigned in the city of Tarthia was escalated by the creeping of a black fog that surrounded the city from all sides and drifted inward. The fog was absolute, as in when it passed over an area nothing could be seen in where it engulfed. Mostly this caused confusion and disarray, but in the eastern part of the city there was much more than mere chaos. With the fog in the east came a stampede of undead, all charging towards the heart of the city as fast as they could run. At first it almost seemed they were attacking the center of the city, but it soon became clear that they were running from the fog and not towards the center of the city. Undead that were too slow could be seen running on the verge of the boiling wave of blackness, tendrils of ebony snaking out entwining them around limbs and body, pulling them back into the advancing blackness. No sound came from the fog, no screaming, no crunching of bones, not even the whisper of wind or breeze penetrated the absolute darkness.

At the head of the Advancing wave in the east strode the dark form of Sitherack. The Slight purple glow of the corrupted Arc of Light shimmered in his right hand, and caused the black armor he wore to pulse in time with the waves of power emanated from the weapon. His features were still shrouded in blackness, only two white glowing dots deep in the black helm showed his eyes peering out. Every step he took forward brought the black fog closer to the heart of the city. It stretched for miles behind him, and circled around the city entirely. It looked like some form of massive attack, but in truth it was simply the darkness that cloaked around him now, it was part of him, and thus did his bidding without thought or need for command.

His eyes scanned the city of festering undead as he searched out his former servant. She was the first on his list to end. Her life or lack there of could serve as an example to those who would trespass upon his rightful domain, and the Arc of Death would provide him a Soul Well from which to draw forth servant shades of darkness to do his bidding throughout the land. His eyes flickered disdainfully to the massive thunderstorm that rested over the city, whether it was his brother or some other fool wielding lightning, they would be no match for him, he was here to claim what way his, in his territory and was not going to falter in the face of more enemies than he had expected. He would take this fools head and stick it on a pike outside the Tarthian gate to serve as a final warning to those who trespassed upon his land in their arrogance.

Where bolts of Lightning struck into the fog, they simply stopped, the Light and energy eaten by the ravenous darkness, it stretched up of its own accord trying to feed on the storm, reaching out for more lightning to consume, the Arc of Light gave the darkness a hunger for all light, it would devour any it could find, and use it to reinforce its own strength, make it grow in ability and power. Undead scattered from his path, fleeing the darkness and his presence both, something about his form impeded the control of their mistress. There was something empty in the Sage of Darkness something that echoed inside the souls of the damned, they recognized him as something dangerous, and though already dead, they knew fear when it entered their very souls.

As he cleared the outer city He saw some Undead racing through their brethren, they bore the soul fire that was signature of the Sage of Shadows. That told Sitherack all he needed to know about who else was here in the City of Tarthia with him and his prey. An invisible smile played across his shrouded features in the darkness. This made it all the better, two for the price of one, and More Arcs to gain at that. The Sage of Darkness, the embodiment of darkness inside his soul quivered anxiously for him to move forward, to destroy everything in his path and bring a lasting darkness unto this world. But it knew that its instrument had needs, and those needs were about to be met.

He turned and made his way towards the inner city. Brainless undead monstrosities scattering out of his way, a few with Daegan's soul fire attempted to block his path, but he made no move to stop. They poised to leap upon him, but in the midst of the jump tendrils of darkness burst forth from the rolling fog behind him, purple light surged within the tendrils, barely breaking through the absolute darkness, and the skeletal warriors hung suspended in the air. Slowly their forms disintegrated, black ash raining down around Sitherack as he kept walking toward the courtyard.

Entering the courtyard area his eyes locked on Daegan just as he disappeared into the Keep. He smiled, of course Deirdre was what he was after, the man would have little or no way of knowing that Sitherack was also here hunting. The hunt was the same, only the prey had changed now. He rose his left hand palm up as he watched the keep thoughtfully. It was likely that Deirdre was inside, but not certain, she would be cautious now since their last battle, and with knowledge that she was under siege by one, if not two people of great power, she would be even more cautious. Still Daegan had experience over her and from the look of it two Arcs rather than just one. Though the curse he had imposed was obviously still in effect and limiting the use of Shadows.

There was an easy way to take care of this little problem however. In his left palm a tiny speck of pristine white light appeared no bigger than a pin head. It shined brightly, like a small star, hot and yellow, but then slowly began to expand, soon it was the size of a grapefruit, and burned with a cool red glow. He kept his eyes on it concentration unbroken, as it began to suddenly and rapidly collapse in on itself.

[Deirdre]

Deirdre watched the thunderstorm wreaking havoc across her city from what used to be sitheracks War Room at the top of the Citadel. It was the most secure place in Tarthia, protected by the defensive magical wardings of thousands of Magick Sedi, and guarded by her own specially imbued Sedian Elite Undead. Still as secure as her place was she felt fear at the approach of the storm. She was weakened from her recent fight with Sitherack, and her knowledge that he would be back only compounded the fear of this new invader. Still she would not relinquish the Arc of Death as long as she had the strength to grip its hilt.

Her eyes played over the scene below, she watched as Daegan took control of some of her lesser warriors and hissed in frustration. Still it wasn't worth the extra energy at this point to regain control of so few. Not while she was still recovering. She was about to turn away and issue orders when she froze staring in horror at the wave of blackness engulfing her city. Her unique vantage point from High up in the citadel gave her a perspective lacking to the two invaders. She could see both of them as they entered the city, both of them as they made their way, converging here on the citadel. What horrid luck had brought them both here, now on the same day at the same time.

She turned and surveyed the empty war room. This was the most heavily guarded area of the Citadel, yet she suddenly felt alone and vulnerable. She turned the Arc of Death downward and drove it into the ground, green necrotic energy surrounded the room, creating a barrier around it that would steal the life force from any who attempted to cross it. The Act of producing the warding caused dizziness and weakness in her. Her nude form sagged against the Arc of Death, clutching at it to remain upright.

It was her hope that Sitherack and Daegan would kill or weaken each other enough to allow her to escape. But if it came down to the worst, if she was destroyed she had a surprise waiting for the so called victor of this private little war. She would never be gotten rid of so easily.

[Daegan]

The Soul Fire in Daegan’s eyes flared as he came upon the entrance to the looming Citadel. His right hand snapped outwards as the sentries guarding the entranceway turned to face the glowing thing that moved towards them. Lightning exploded in the clouds above him as the Sage fed off the energy of the combined Arcs, the shadows of the city and that he created surging towards Daegan. They stopped just shy of the white light that glowed like an aura around him, as if being gathered. Like apples from a tree, the shadows surged through the city to converge before there Sage.

Daegan moved forward, his fingers clenching slightly, right arm still stretched out in front of him. Soul Fire burned brilliantly in his eyes as the Undead lurched to a halt, spinning around almost in unison and began to march towards the entranceway as Daegan did. The four Undead Elites that guarded the Citadel. As Daegan gained control of the Undead, in the pockets of the legions he had taken control of, random Undead began to frenzy. Within moments, twenty of the warriors had gone berserk.

Rage and fury erupted in the heart of Tarthia as Daegan’s Undead and those still under the control of the Arc of Death began to clash. But the Sage continued onwards, and soon he was at the massive door that stood as an imposing barrier between him and his daughter. Thunder exploded overhead as Daegan and the Elites entered the Citadel of Darkness, brilliant azure lightning flashing across the darkened sky.

Tiny bolts of azure lightning crackled around his body, dancing up and down his right arm in large streaks. As Daegan stepped foot inside the massive structure, his eyes flared once more with the Soul Fire as the four Elite Undead that stood at the other side of the entrance stopped in mid-attack. Once again Daegan forced his energy through the Arcs, amplifying the power of the nether energy. At least now he wasn’t so alone and vulnerable in the center of the City of Darkness in the Land of Eternal Night.

As Daegan and his small group of Undead moved deeper into front room of the Citadel, the shadows that had been gathering from the city rushed in as thunder once more exploded overhead. They surged in and around Daegan’ rushing deeper into the large structure as massive tendrils of the inky substance lurched up the sides of the Citadel.

The rest of the city began to unravel. Daegan’s control over the Undead outside of the fortress began to fail as the shadows wrapped around the outside of the structure. Bolts of azure lightning rained down from the skies as the Sage forced more energy through the Arc, pockets of the crazed creatures scattering as the electricity found its mark. One by one Undead fell, either to frenzy and attack by the Arc of Death’s Undead, or by a bolt of lightning from above. Anything to keep them occupied.

With the shadows lapping over the Citadel, Daegan and his Elites came upon the first level in the many tiered fortress. Daegan stopped as he watched and waited, sending two of the Elites forward in an attempt to ascend to the next level. He watched as they moved up the stairs and eventually disappeared onto the next floor. Breathing a sigh of relief the Elites and Daegan preceded onwards, thunder booming overhead.

At a painstakingly slow pace, Daegan and the Elites worked there was upwards through the winding passages of the Citadel. The shadows swirled and swarmed over the outside of the stronghold as the Sage progressed upwards. By the time they completely covered the Citadel, all of Daegan’s Undead outside were slaughtered. The will he had over the eight Elites that he walked with now surged and pulsed as Daegan focused the energy he had been expanding on controlling the legions outside into controlling those that were with him now.

Every floor that Daegan ascended too, an almost web-looking thing was left in his wake; tendrils of the shimmering shadows that served as a sort of cage, blocking entry. While they looked harmless enough, they served as Daegan’s own sort of ward, ripping whoever touched the element back to the entrance of the Citadel through the Shadow Realm. And with each web of shadow left behind, thunder and lightning erupted above the fortress, occasional bolts striking the Undead warriors below – the channeling of elements from the Arcs on Daegan’s forearm.

As the Sage and the Elites continued upwards – dispatching the lesser warriors as Daegan took control of any fresh Elites they came across – he began to force his voice through the shadows. The warriors left behind were not killed, merely stunned as the group worked its way upwards. The ravishing creatures soon found themselves back at the entrance of the Citadel, however, as they inevitably gave chase to the Sage and were ripped back to the shadow beacon Daegan had placed.

His voice pulsed through the shadows, echoing around the Citadel like some ghastly presence. Daegan was calling out to his daughter, to any last shred that remained of her that his arrival was that of peace. How he wanted to destroy Sitherack just as she did and how he still loved her. It was as if he was pleading with the Queen of the Undead. And, in some sort of way Daegan was pleading with his daughter. Hoping against hope that he could somehow reach her and that he wouldn’t have to engage her in combat.

The shadows outside the citadel wrapped and twisted around one another like greedy snakes devouring flesh, oozing over the dark fortress. The lightning arcing overhead only fed the swarming barrier of shadow. It seemed to shimmer in the azure flashes, like some metallic piece of murkiness flashing in just the right light. Much like the inside of the Citadel, the shadow coating acted as the webs of shadows. A large sphere of shadows hovered just outside the front of entrance to the Citadel, the beacon which those touching the outside of the fortress would be ripped too.

[Daegan]

Higher and higher the Sage climbed, guiding the Undead along with him as they showed him the way to the War Room, subduing the Wards of the Citadel enough for him to pass through them. And as they wound upwards towards the top of the fortress, Daegan continued to pulse his voice through the shadows, sending the same messages of peace and his willingness to unite with his daughter.

After what seemed an eternity, Daegan and his group of ten Elites had reached the top of the Citadel. The War Room of the heavily fortified stronghold within eyesight at last. His eyes flared brilliantly once more as the Elite guard outside the sealed door lurched forward, extending those under Daegan’s control to twelve. His mind raced as he forced more energy through the Arcs, the Undead he had gathered flickering and fading away as they too were sent to the shadow beacon below. He kept only one with him, one for him to open the final door with.

Before he did, however, he pushed his voice once more time through the shadows. He spoke of how he was alone at the top of the Citadel, how he had journeyed the entire way up here to help his daughter. To free her from Sitherack forever. Slowly, Daegan turned to face the doorway to the War Room, his heart beating rapidly. Out of the years and years of hardened warfare and combat, the Sage was slightly frightened. Even in the looming insanity that threatened to mask his wits, he feared what he may have to do.

Slowly, the Elite Undead lurched forward, and as the doors to the War Room cracked open, the creature faded from view. The last of the Elites was ripped back to the entrance of the Citadel and Daegan’s control over them faded. The energy that wasn’t being expelled burned quietly in his eyes now as he brought his gaze to meet that of his daughter’s. A soft smile flashed over his face for a brief second as Daegan took several steps forward.

Even still, he watched cautiously, waiting to see the reaction of his daughter and the twenty Elites that stood inside as her guard. He could see the glowing Arc of Death and feel the chill it gave off. He shuddered slightly as he took several more steps forward, reaching out to Deirdre with his left hand.

“Deirdre…”[/i]

[Sitherack's Soul]

Shadows began to swallow his Citadel but it did not bother Sitherack, The place had not been his home long enough for him to gather any kind of special attachment too, nor had this city, it was all new wrought forth from the wretched claws of undeath. His luminescent eyes played over the darkening structure, the sounds of the undead ravishing each other, and fleeing from the devouring darkness was a perfect backdrop for the carnage about to ensue. Until now the powers of this world had always judged themselves based on their prowess in combat, the power they could call to their side. Their Arcs, what they could muster and how strong they could become. But when you removed all consideration for side effects, dealt in absolutes everything became so much clearer.

”You fools, you forget, Arc's are indestructible, you however do not share that advantage.” The Sound of his voice echoed through the city, hollow sounding but immense, amplified by the Darkness surrounding them, it would shake the walls of the keep, and tremble the city.

The rapidly collapsing reddish sphere in his hand began to get brighter as he raised his hand high over his head, the power building in it was immense, even if it was very tiny in size. At the same time the Darkness began to cocoon around him, obscuring his form, only the brilliant light of the minuscule star in the palm of his hand shined through. Then for a brief second everything was silent, deadly silent, the calm before the storm so to speak. What came next was deafening. The supernova detonation was unlike anything witnessed on the face of Terra Centilina previously. It expanded in all directions ripping apart undead and shattering buildings as though they were made of sticks.

The Shockwave impacted the base floors of the Citadel, shattering most of the supports and collapsing several of the outer-walls The Citadel still stood but barely, it listed horridly to one side, and the creaking of the remaining supports was horrendously loud. The thing was about to collapse in on itself any moment. The Shockwave didn't stop there however it flashed outward, burning away the ground disintegrating undead in its path, and devastating the city to the point that only scorched earth remained. All this took place in less than a second, it seemed however to last an eternity, the shock-wave showed no sign of weakening it could very well have covered most of the continent, except for one thing.

Just as it reached the outskirts of the city it seemed to pause, straining to go further. But at the center of the blinding detonation was a tiny almost invisible black speck. A Black Hole the size of a pinprick. It began to collapse the detonation, taking the everything in the city of Tarthia with it. Buildings, undead, debris flew inward towards the speck, disintegrating as it came closer. Pieces breaking smaller and smaller till they could fit through the speck. The last of the shock-wave collapsed through the Black Hole, it pulled everything into it matter and energy, only the cocoon Sitherack rested in below it pure darkness utter and total emptiness, there really was nothing there for it to pull.

The walls and inner floors of the Citadel left from the detonation were ripped away by the implosion of the Black Hole. The entire ordeal lasted maybe a minute, but the devastation was ungodly. The Cocoon fell away from Sitherack and flooded outward in a blanketing Darkness that covered the blasted wasteland that had moments ago been the Capitol of the Land of Eternal Night. The only sound remaining was the rush of air to fill the voided space that had moments ago endured an implosion. Sitherack lowered his hand and surveyed the blasted disc of land silently searching for survivors, or more likely the Arcs that their wretched souls would have left behind.

[Deirdre]

Her father's words crossed her ears just as she was regaining her strength, well enough to stand anyway. The wounds she had suffered at the hands of her fight with Sitherack had weakened her greviously, and performing even simple tasks now weakened the Arc of Deaths grip upon her, and thus her very existence. The answer was simple. She could kill them all, turn on them and make the world her image of a death and perfection, all she needed was time, and she wasn't beyond a little play acting to buy that time.

Her eyes widened at Daegan as he stretched his arm out to her and she sank to her knees, in an act that was only partially feigned. Exhaustion had claimed her, but she still held a reserve. She opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by the booming of Sitherack's voice, a vague look of disgust mixed with fear crossed her face, the fear was mostly and act, for Daegan's benefit. She had heard the Sage of Darkness' tirades before and was not so easily impressed. A split second later though the shattering of the base of the Citadel turned the fake look of fear on Deirdres face into a real one. Terror painted her features as the entire structure listed to the side, and began to collapse.

She lost her footing, barely managing to hold onto the Arc of Death as she slid into the far wall and crashed against it, concentration broken and the green Death warding fading around the room. Had she been alive she would have lost consciousness from the blow that had most certainly fractured her skull. She was barely struggling to her feet when the implosion hit. She felt herself thrown into the opposite wall, which crumbled as she reached it. There was no pain, not for the undead, but there was fear. Outside all she saw was blackness as she was ripped away from the crumbling Citadel, arms flying in the air, reaching desperately for something to grab on to.

[Daegan]

Daegan’s legs threaten to buckle as he felt the shuddering of the Citadel. He lurched forward as the bottom portion of the fortress was ripped away and as the explosion ripped upwards through the Citadel, Daegan was thrown backwards. The shadows screamed at him as his glowing form was thrust backwards, his back smashing hard into the wall. He felt the blackness and the pain rush through his body, but the Sage fought against it. Daegan forced away the agony as he focused purely on his daughter.

Groaning, Daegan once more started forward towards his daughter, his steps quickly turning into long, running strides. By the time the green field of Necromantic energy, Daegan was diving through the doorway into the War Room, desperately trying to reach the Queen of the Undead before anymore harm came to her. Of course he realized she would not experience pain, but just witnessing her being tossed around like a rag-doll was almost too much to bare.

“DEIRDRE!”

Daegan screamed into the air, the shadows carrying his voice outwards like a sonic boom. He watched as his daughter was ripped from the crumbling Citadel and terror gripped his heart. Overhead the thunderstorm still raged, explosions rocking the heavens as thunder ripped from the clouds. Brilliant bolts of azure lightning streaked across the dark storm clouds as once more Daegan forced his will through his combined Arcs.

But it was too little avail. Even the massive storm clouds that were billowing above were being sucked into the darkness. Daegan began to feel a tug as he, too, began to be ripped towards the black hole, his body tingling with the power he was harnessing from the Arcs, the energy he was forcing into his being.

His form surged forward as he dove from the crumbling ruins of the Citadel, trying in desperation to reach his daughter before it was too late. Screaming out to her, Daegan’s words shifted from fear to that of sheer rage as the dark form of Sitherack became visible. Thunder boomed from the rapidly diminishing storm cloud and in a sort of last defiance boomed once last time before vanishing completely.

The shadows pulsed around Daegan, washing over him as they too rushed towards the devouring darkness. He could feel them rush by his skin at long last and in a brief moment of confusion flashed over the Sage’s face as he watched the infernal aura tear away from his body. Confusion turned to agony as the aura slowly left his body, like his very flesh was being flayed away.

Once again the blackness of unconsciousness threatened to overtake the Sage. The sudden rush from the shadows almost made him uneasy to the point of vomiting and the pain of the white light being torn away from him was only barely eased by his element. His entire body throbbed as though he’d been immersed in liquid fire. But still he fought on, his eyes cutting to Sitherack.

A smirk danced over the Sage’s face, his eyes mixed with insanity and hatred. The gaze only lasted a brief moment as a brief flash of azure drew Daegan’s head away. His entire right side shuddered as the combined Arcs of Shadow and Lightning shifted, the bracer bursting outward with energy as the two were separated.

Daegan’s screams of pain cut through the air and the chaos like a knife through butter as the shift in energy sent his body into shock. As the electricity was pulled from the blade of the Arc of Lightning, the humming sensation of the blade brought him back into thought and just as the Arc of Lightning seemed to be sucked dry; Daegan’s form seemed to vanish completely.

The Arc of Shadow clamored to the ground a split second after the Arc of Lightning, both of the fabled artifacts lying near the vortex of darkness. The shadows continued to rush into the black hole as the Arcs remained motionless, Daegan’s body lost to the chaos the city of Tarthia had been reduced too.

[Sitherack's Soul]

Sitherack sighed, almost feeling a pang of disappointment when seeing no one left to contest him for the three Arcs now present at his feet. He had come here for one Arc and would now leave with 5, Lasius would be no match for him now, no matter how many Arcs he had secured, not while he held Lightning and Light. The wenches Malkate and Lomes would fall before him too, and Darkness would eclipse the world. It brought him no pleasure, only the ultimate realization of the death of his brother would bring that, and he yearned towards it eagerly. Crouching amid a pool of Darkness he closed his hand around the Arc of Lightning, smiling at it, this was a prize indeed.

He glanced through the Darkness at the Arc's of Death and Shadows still at his feet. He held the Arcs of Lightning and Corrupted Light in either hand. His dilemma was that he simply didn't have enough hands. Laughter rang out across the wasteland that had once been Tarthia such a simple thing to pose a problem after all that had been overcome to obtain the weapons. Laughing he rose his hands over his head, the billowing Darkness Surging up to surround the Arc of Lightning and Corrupted Arc of Light, taking them away from him, and bringing them back to his temple.

With the loss of the Arc of Darkness which was fused into the Arc of Light the Darkness lessened drastically in the Tarthian wastes. It still covered his substance but was restricted now to a few hundred feet around him rather than miles in all directions. He knelt to retrieve the Arc of Death and the Arc of Shadows, gripping Death he felt the familiar surge of necrotic Energy filing him, the green glow however was absorbed immediately by the darkness that surrounded his form, it lent his white luminescent eyes a faint greenish tint however.

That however was not what caught his attention, his eyes went to the blade of Shadows. It was misty insubstantial as always, but he felt no surge of energy from it. He had held shadows only once in the past, he had a distaste for the weapon but he remembered the feel of it and this was wrong somehow. His eyes narrowed, becoming faintly green luminescent slits as he stared suspiciously at the weapon.

[Daegan]

With the touch from the Sage of Darkness, the shadows seemed to halt. In mid air, the mass of murky substance stopped suddenly, as a sort of confusion seemed to become apparent. For hundreds upon hundreds of years the shadows had answered to Daegan. And now, it was as if his very essence had left the earth. The insubstantial darkness seemed to pulsate with rage as Sitherack touched the Arc.

“Now you enter my Realm, Sage of Darkness.”

The voice was definitely that of Daegan’s, but the Sage was no where to be seen. Even the shadows he once controlled were absent of his presence. Perhaps some sort of hallucination, then. A corrupt image of Daegan as he would appear pleading for his last breaths. But Sitherack wasn’t dreaming, and the lack of energy he felt from the Arc of Shadows would soon become all too real.

A nauseating feeling would completely overtake Sitherack as he clutched the Arc of Shadows, ripping him essentially into a Realm that he had never walked. Laughter seemed to echo around the Sage of Darkness’ entire body, and in a split second it seemed as though Sitherack no longer held the Arc of Shadows.

“You should have trusted your instincts, Sitherack al’Sedi. Your darkness is nothing here.”[/b]

Daegan’s voice seemed to be spoke from underwater, his tone strange and seeming to pulse like some sort of heart beat. The shadows around Sitherack rippled and pulsed, making the barren gray landscape that stretched on for miles rise and fall like a breathing chest. Once more the Sage of Shadow’s voice boomed around the ears of Sitherack.

“It’s ironic, really. You wished to leave me alone in all of Terra Centilina and now it is you that is left utterly alone in MY world.”[/b]

Insane laughter erupted for what seemed to be miles in the Shadow Realm as Daegan’s will seemed to be everywhere. He was forcing his energy inward now, concentrating on the very shadows that were his very being to confuse Sitherack. To weave and create a grand illusion in the Sage of Darkness’ eyes.

The force of the shadows would begin to weigh heavily on Sitherack, the pressure growing by the second. They swirled around his figure, layer upon layer form across his body in an effort to crush the intruder. As time continued to pass outward, eternities seemed to tick by in the Shadow Realm, Daegan’s will circumventive to his need for vengeance. Once more his voice boomed around Sitherack.

“You wished to achieve Death by coming here, and now you must release it to be free.”[/b]

A pang of agony would impact Sitherack above the lungs. A slight jolt to remind what would appear on the outside to be the sleeping Sage that his apparent dreams were quick real. He was deep within the Shadow Realm now, and for once it was Daegan that showed his supremacy. The ultimate master of this strange place.

“Drop your artifacts and you may pass…”[/b]

The last words were like a hissing sound, striking out at Sitherack like some sort of vicious punch. They coddled around his form like the very shadows of the city, wrapping around his body as only a lover could. It was an act only to solidify the will of Daegan as the touch became increasingly strong, turning from a gentle caress to a strong grip and eventually a vice-like grip.

“Release the pain of Death!”[/b]

Once more Daegan’s words boomed from the shadows of the strange Realm, whipping around Sitherack’s ears like some fierce wind. The shadows struck the Sage of Darkness’ skin like tiny barbs, begging him to pay attention to them. To concede to there master and relinquish what Daegan desired.[/color]

[Sitherack's Soul]

The taunting words, the pain, the desolate barren shadowy landscape, it was all he needed to tell him that Daegan had survived the attack somehow. Wretched Sage of Shadows, like a cockroach could survive anything. The only thing that was optimistic about this situation at all was that he had drawn all energy for his previous attacks from the Arc of Darkness. He was fresh and energized still, and in a realm of the only element that was pretty much worthless against him. Still Daegan was the Sage of Shadows, he somehow possessed the Arc still despite the fact that Sitherack was holding it. Giving the man the upper hand by far.

The Pain was beginning to get intolerable. The Darkness of his Armor kept the shadows from actually touching his body, they dissolved upon contact with the darkness as it ate them, but it drained his energy, slowly but surely. And the weight of this world under Daegan's manipulation still caused him great discomfort. His eyes cut to the Arc of Shadows, useless weapon that it was to him and he hurled it into the distance. Pulling energy from the Arc of Death to reinforce the strength of his Soul he closed his eyes.

He felt stronger, but it was nothing compared to what he would have been able to channel in the real world, a place where death had meaning, not like this place. He focused the Darkness around his form, reinforcing his armor and the blackness within, it was enough to allow him to move around this aweful pale reflection of a world with little difficulty. Aside from the sapping of his strength that holding the Darkness was causing that is.

“You talk a lot Daegan, threaten, but you are a failure.” His voice was soft, a whisper really because he knew the Sage could hear everything he said in his forsaken realm. “You failed to protect your beloved Daughter, that zombie abomination Deirdre. I ripped her apart like paper for this Arc, and you will fail to take it from me now, regardless of what power you have here, your shadows are as impotent as you are.”

He tightened his grip on the Arc of death, its blade shimmering green with Necrotic Energy, imbuing itself to steal the soul of its victims, as Darken hunted through the Shadowy wastes. “If you want it so badly my shady friend come and take it from me.”

[Daegan]

Laughter echoed throughout the shadowy haze of the Realm. The landscape seemed much like that of Terra Centilina, but the ground was a deep teal color, the air about them thick and murky like the shadow of some giant structure. In essence, it was a replication of the Sedian world, only in pure shadow.

“I can talk indeed, Sage of Darkness.”

Tendrils of shadow whipped outwards from nothingness, as if manifesting into a tiny hand to smack Sitherack square in the face. The energy from the Realm seemed to pulse through Daegan as he wafted here and there in the shadows, observing his adversary. It had been far too long since the Sage had felt the gentle caress of his element, and longer still since he had existed within the nether Realm the shadows existed.

The murky substance would begin to weigh down upon Sitherack, as though he was sinking deeper and deeper underwater. The pressure would soon cause his ears to pop as a sort of crushing feeling started to become apparent. It was time for Daegan to exact some revenge of his own.

“You rip away my people with that infernal lizard… trying to leave me alone in this world… and in the wake of all things, my daughters ultimately become lost or insane because of YOUR actions…”

More tendrils of shadow seemed to jump from utter nothingness in an attempt to wrap around Sitherack. The dark substance would pulsate towards the Sage of Darkness, pooling around his feet in an attempt to snake upwards. Like savage, wild animals the shadows would jump towards Sitherack, desperately trying to wrap around his body. To touch his flesh and farther bring him into the hazy element.

The tendrils that would manage to reach Sitherack, those that would be able to touch raw flesh would feel like a red-hot piece of iron if only for a split second as the shadow and skin merged. Once more laughter exploded around the Sage of Darkness, pangs of insanity ever becoming more and more present in the cackling.

Visions of Daegan’s form flashed before Sitherack as though the Sage were walking forward and yet with each step Daegan’s form faded into the haze of shadows. Then after a few feet, his form would once more flash into view for a brief second, a few feet to the right or left of where the original image was. The flashes would seem maddening as laughter continued to erupt and echo from seemingly all around.

“And now you shall pay the dearest costs.”

With Daegan’s words, his image would flicker into view opposite of Sitherack, in the distance. Daegan grinned sinisterly as he thrust his two arms outward towards the Sage of Darkness, once more vanishing into the shadow. The pressure around Sitherack would intensify suddenly, as if the being forced deeper and deeper into the crushing deep waters of the ocean.

“My daughters reside in what you hold; Sage of Darkness, and soon that will be mine too.”

[Sitherack's Soul]

Darkness dissolved each tendril of shadow that lashed out at him, his narrow green luminescent eyes searching out his target waiting for the man to face him found nothing but shades and shadows, for that was all there truly was in this damned realm. As Daegan spoke to him he realized that the man was not going to step out and face him, that he would wait until his energy was gone wait until he couldn't fight back. It was a simple thing for Sitherack, cowardice, the man knew he could not take him in a straight fight so he resorted to these games. It burned inside his heart, and fueled anger that intensified his power.

Good thing too because the sudden crushing pressure required a substantial amount of his energy to fend off from his form. He was already beginning to feel his reserves being depleted. He shouldn't have this soon with the Arc of Death strengthening his Soul, but there was no real Darkness here in this realm, nothing more than he himself was the source of anyway. It made it all the more difficult, not being able to draw on his element and rather having to create it himself in defense against the shadows.

“You're controlling yourself better here Daegan, now that you feel victory is ensured.” His voice was strained with concentration, the Darkness around him surging eating any shadows within several hundred yards now The Arc of Death lost its faint glow, as darkness snaked over the bone blade and covered it completely as it did the Sage of Darkness. ”You're wretched Shadow realm is a comfort to you... You have been without the embrace... of your harlot shadows for too long Daegan they have blinded you in their enthusiasm to your real situation... overconfidence will be your undoing.” His voice was gasping now, pausing every few seconds to take a breath, it became obvious the strain he was under was from more than the mere defense against the assaults of the shadows.

He coughed, blood spraying from his mouth, as the strain of pulling energy more than his body could handle began to take its toll on him in the form of internal injuries to his body. He sank to his knees unable to remain upright any longer. Around him Darkness rolled cloaking him, like a small lake it rippled across its surface, enshrouding the Sage and the Arc. Not even the small green dots of his eyes were visible anymore.

”I took the shadows from your body before Daegan, and in your arrogance you bring me now to their home.” His voice was weak, hoarse with strain, his eyes were shut, and his chest barely rose and fell. ”You seek death, you stake more on it than you know Sage of Shadows”

The Darkness folded in on itself collapsing till it formed a tight sphere around Sitherack's body, not much bigger than the man himself, it rose into the air, straight up high into the so called sky of this blasted realm. ”I will yield to you what you so desperately seek, but at a price of my choosing. You see I don't have the energy to take this Arc with me. You're gamble in that aspect was a good bet. However you never should have brought the heart of Darkness into the home of Shadows”

The Sphere crackled with dark energy, drops of blood leaking from it falling far to the ground staining it below. It crackled once more and shattered. Shards of Darkness flashing out into the landscape. Razor sharp, the impacted the ground, everywhere one fell, Darkness began to spread, slowly but surely, corrupting the landscape. Untouchable by shadow, all devouring. It might take years, centuries even, but slowly foot by foot the realm of shadow was being consumed in Darkness.

On an island of shadow in the center of the expanding darkness a glimmer of bone flickered, the greenish necrotic energy faded as no hand touched it any longer. The Arc of Death lay driven into the ground halfway to its hilt like some sort of sad consolation prize. Of the Sage of Darkness there was no sign.

Hundreds of miles away, in the real world there was a brief surge of darkness in Sitherack's temple. His form appeared lacking the Dark armor which he had been seen in, in the middle of the air next to the pool of darkness, that currently held the corrupted Arc of Light and the Arc of Lightning. He fell to the ground with a crash, and lay there sprawled out coughing blood on the temple floor. His form was devastated, internal injuries consumed his body, he had forced his energy far beyond what he was safely capable of without the Arc. It was debatable whether he would recover without aid. He turned clawing at the ground and pulled himself to the edge of the pool of darkness, and with one final surge of strength hauled himself into it. As he sank through the obsidian depths unconciousness and dreams took him.

[Daegan]

Daegan’s form flickered and wavered like a plume of smoke. It drifted across the darkened landscape of the Shadow Realm, slightly see-through as he was still in a shadowed form. There was only the aqua ring around his eyes that was solid, everything else opaque against the haze of shadow. The Sage was not proud of himself, and knew full wealth his actions were far from that of the great warrior he claimed to be. Shame mixed with rage as he watched the Darkness manifest, his form flashing in and out of view as it slowly grew closer to Sitherack.

Although what appeared to be cowardice, the act of not facing the Sage of Darkness outright was more of a tactic than anything. The extended absence of the shadows affected Daegan much like the lack of Darkness was starting to take its toll on Sitherack. However, like the Temple of Darkness, this was the source of all shadow. The realm that existed both in the Ether and Astral. It was not as potent as the Darkness well, but Daegan’s strength was returning to him. The shadows were feeding him, pulsing around him as the rush of energy only fuelled the pressure Sitherack’s body was experiencing.

Daegan watched in delight as the scent of blood filled his incorporeal nostrils, the shadows carrying the scent to him like some sort of fierce wind. Glee quickly turned to terror, however, as Daegan realized what was happening. Each razor shard of darkness that struck the shadows felt as though they were ripping through the Sage of Shadows’ flesh. As if the tiny fractions of blackness were being shot focused on Daegan and not the Realm.

A fierce shriek – almost banshee like – ripped through the Realm as Sitherack vanished. Daegan’s form flickered and faded across the lands, observing the festering darkness begin to slowly spread outward. His eyes narrowed into slits as he watched like a shade, unable to halt the infernal darkness that Sitherack had brought here. Into Daegan’s home; his kingdom.

The rage was temporarily suspended as the ghastly form of Daegan flashed into a more substantial presence before the Arc of Death. He started at the bone blade, as if it was the answer to some ancient riddle that could never be solved. All he had done for such a simple weapon. Such chaos and consequences for the power over Death.

Hesitantly, Daegan reached out to touch the cool hilt of the blade, recoiling slightly as a bolt of green Necromantic energy leaped to his fingers. He felt the familiar touch of the grave, the coldness that stretched up his arm as the Sage took hold of the wretched blade. He could smell the stench of death; hear the screaming voices of the trapped souls bound to the Arc. Tightly Daegan closed his eyes, forgetting the awkwardness the Arc filled him with.

He was the last to posses the Arc of Death before the artifacts were scattered, and now he had regained the prize. The jewel the Sage appeared to forsake everything for. Daegan shuddered as he held the blade in his right hand, Arc of Shadows in his left. Tiny wisps of the green energy circled upwards around Daegan’s arm. An almost insane grin began to spread over his face as his eyes shot upwards towards the landscape, small points of darkness now visible.

Like being hit with a tornado, Daegan’s form seemed to scatter into the unseen winds. His body once more was ripped from the Shadow Realm to the lands of Tarthia. He sagged heavily, dropping to his knees from the sudden rush of the physical realm. Daegan dug the Arc of Death into the ground to hoist himself back into a standing position.

The devastation of Tarthia smacked Daegan like a fist from some unseen adversary. The ravaging Undead all seemed to pause and stop, looking at the new master. The one who now held the Arc of Death.

“May your Undeath be peaceful…”

Once again Daegan drove the Arc of Death into the ground, the bone blade biting into the darkened landscape. In reaction, the ground shuddered and like a single shockwave of flash of the eerie green light exploded outwards. It tore through the lands of Tarthia in a few seconds and as it did, Daegan once more collapsed onto his knees. A deep breath escaped his lips and wearily the Sage’s eyes slid halfway shut.

He looked like some sort of defeated, hellish knight, standing amongst the field of Undead that had been released from the Arc’s power. He leaned heavily against the nether weapon, the shadows lapping over his body. After a few moments Daegan’s eyes slid closed completely the Arc of Shadows now resting in his lap. In a kneeling position, still lightly gripping the Arc of Death, Daegan slipped into exhaustion’s embrace.

[Zinerva]

It took her almost half an hour to get over the shock of what lay before her. The massive shallow blasted crater that once was the immense city of Tarthia just would not register in her mind. Sitherack had told her that the Legions had been devoured by the undead, but she had not expected to find this when she arrived. She had come in search of survivors, remnants of the Dark Empire she had worked side by side with Sitherack to build. As much as she could remember of her life was now gone, scoured away with the blasted landscape before her. She stepped forward, forcing herself to take a step onto that dead cracked soil as she cautiously pulled the Darkness imbued blade from its sheathe. Her eyes found shattered bones, fragments of skeletons that had either been the remains of her comrades or those of the undead army that had devoured them. Either way nothing was out there now, no massive army, and certainly no survivors.

Except there was something, in the distance, she had to strain her eyes to see but it looked like the silhouette of a figure slumped over. She stopped herself from charging forward out of sheer excitement to see another person and watched cautiously from the distance. Likely whoever was remaining here was the cause of this destruction. Devastation on this scale likely left no one else alive. She Embraced the Darkness pulling it around her form like a cloak, it shielded her from eyes that didn't strain to see too closely here in the Land of Eternal night. She moved closer, tightening her grip on the Darkness Imbued blade in her hand.

There could have been survivors somewhere in this city before the catastrophe destroyed it. The lack of Undead made it seem that they too also may have been destroyed. She could make out Shadows swarming over the figure. That told her what she had feared. The Lord General of the Southern Sedian forces, slumped in the center of what used to be Tarthia but was now a crater, worn out from obvious exertion. Looks like the Sage of Shadows had succeeded in claiming a prize as well. The familiar green glow of the Arc of Death was shimmering there with him.

Anger and sorrow became one in her chest, the pain of it became unbearable. She pulled all the Darkness she could through the amplifying Armor and sword, it was substantial, and darkness rippled out from her, blacker than the night surrounding them, as she strode the last several hundred yards in his direction. No doubt he would kill her, but she was the las general of a proud empire, and the duty of the war fell squarely on her now.

Her form was slightly obscured by the darkness as it began to rush across the ground towards the fatigued form of Daegan, like tendrils of obsidian night reaching to rip him in all directions till pieces of him littered the unmarked graves of countless numbers of her comrades.