Xilor entered the hidden, vacant room. The voice had goaded him into returning, foretelling his impending doom. Of all the atrocities he committed along his path to a better future, for the good of Ermaeyth, his doom was to be beaten by some wretch? The notion was ludicrous. The brazen and bizarre thought managed to elicit a laugh from Xilor, but the more he thought about the unlikelihood, the more it galled him. If the voice foretold of Judas destroying him, Xilor would worry. Judas had nearly defeated him before. But a child? Prodigy or not, she was untrained. Power was nothing without proper training.
Xilor stepped through the door and closed it quietly behind him. He crossed over to the one article in the room, a cabinet. It had been a long time since he opened the bureau, but he was still inside. He opened the doors, and a cubical mirror-like object sat undisturbed but mired in dust. With a few strokes of his fingers, he wiped the motes of dust away. The object did not reflect his image. Instead, it reflected the face of his old master. Though he could have killed him, he placed him in this prison, his eternal prison.
“I have returned, as you knew I would,” Xilor whispered softly.
The image turned to face him. “What do you want, to see me this time as I prattle on about your fate some more? Fine, you are doomed! Or did you come to gloat about your latest accomplishment again, to cheat death?” the former master said. “There is no cheating the Lord of the Underworld; eventually, you will find that out.”
“You thought it impossible. What a small mind you possess,” Xilor sneered. He paused, cocking his head to the side. “I believe the Lord of the Underworld and I reached an understanding.”
“You haven’t cheated death, only escaped its clutches. There won’t be a second evasion,” the other snorted.
“I did not escape death. You cannot cheat what you are,” Xilor preened.
“That is something you never seem to understand. You cannot change who you are; it is your destiny. Destiny will have its way.”
“I am not trying to change who I am, but becoming what I’m supposed to be.”
“An abomination?” Hadius countered. “All things will be corrected in the end, whether you succeed or not. That is the way of the Time Wardens. Your stupidity will awaken them!”
“You have always been a fool! No wonder I destroyed you when I had the chance! Time Wardens?” he scoffed. “Who can fathom what kind of path I would have taken under your prolonged tutelage. I would be a weak coward, a servant or slave. You were an incompetent old man then, and you fear motivates you now, coward.”
“Fear drives everyone!” Hadius Lacove spat back.
“I fear nothing!”
Hadius was silent for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet, controlled. “Then, you are a bigger fool than I imagined. Those with power can be broken. That is why you sought a solution to mortality.”
The words echoed in Xilor’s ears. It was a drumming, pounding sensation. Everything seemed to stop. Nothing mattered.
Could he possibly know? the thought twisted in Xilor’s mind.
“How would you know of this?” asked Xilor, barely above a whisper.
“I’ve seen it,” Hadius responded. “I never told you I only saw the future and not the past. I chose to let you believe what you wanted.”
“Obviously,” said Xilor, finding confidence, “you can’t tell that well, considering you are here now where I placed you.”
“You’re right. I cannot see precisely, only possibilities.”
“Possibilities?” Xilor peculiarly asked.
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“Yes, the future is not set, nor will it ever be set. When gazing into the future, you can change events just by seeing them. Like a pebble dropped into a pond, the water is still water; nothing changed except the movement, and only just. The prospective unfolding of time and events cannot dictate free will. Free will gives each being the ability to decide, act, or simply not to act at all. An unavoidable and unbeatable pattern.”
“I am tired of your riddles,” Xilor mumbled, rubbing his temples.
“Everything you do will be countered.” Hadius stopped, almost like in mid-sentence.
“Tell me more.”
“It is better for one’s destiny to unfold,” the cube advised.
“Riddles? Lies? Nothing but deceit? Tell me or I swear to make your memory a lot more painful and meaningless.”
“Do not forget that lies and deceit are your way as well.” Hadius sighed heavily. “Knowing what may come, you will strive to change it or make it happen. What may come is set or denied by your inquiry.”
“Out with it!”
“There are five doors in which the future will let you wander through. The first one is your ultimate victory. The only opposition is the man who was your first oppressor, and he will bury you under his heel. Judas Lakayre will defeat you and put an infinite end to your life, one that you cannot escape.”
Xilor mulled over the proclamation. He knew better than to interrupt. Hadius was doing what he desired, telling him the possibilities, so he understood the odds of his gamble.
“The second door will yield to your heart’s desire. You shall be the emperor of the realms; everyone will answer fearfully at your feet, and you will discover lost magic. Immortality lies ahead. Through you, the Lord of the Underworld shall walk in the world of the Living.
“The third door is shrouded in shadow but through it, a tapestry of light guarded by a being of time and shadow, a Time Warden, and you will be destroyed. To glimpse the Time Warden is to glimpse death, but no gaze can pierce the shadowed cowl.
“The fourth door is strange. Nothing like this has ever transpired before, and nothing like this will ever transpire again. There is a magical being, a fallen angel of darkness and light who will crush you. This being is death for the death-bearer. You are the latter.”
This possibility intrigued Xilor more than the others. A fallen angel. He had never seen an archangel and didn’t think they existed, but if they did, he was sure he could overcome them when the time came.
“The fifth and final door reveals the angel and death united. Hand in hand, they conquer realms and worlds of realms in the arms of the cosmos. All bow to your relentless oppression, and civilizations will crumble against the might of the angel.” Hadius breathed in deep and sighed noisily. “What you do with this knowledge is up to you. I suggest, however, that you let Destiny play as she will and not force her hand.”
“I shall trust my intuitions about what to do next.”
“Then be prepared to accept the consequences.”
“Who is this fallen angel?”
“Why are you so interested?” queried Hadius.
“I have never heard of this angel. If ever confronted by him, I may offer him a choice and place beside me.”
“Interesting outlook, but I never said it was a he. You will never get or grasp the simple fact that not all power lies within man alone. You overlook what you do not understand.”
“A woman?” Contempt gushed through his sneering voice.
“Yes, a woman! She possesses the powers of both her parent’s lineage, something that has not happened in a long time. The powerful bend and fall if she so chooses. She was much like you for a while, unaware of her true potential.”
“Then I will make sure she finds out what it is. Who are her parents?” Xilor inquired.
“It’s of no consequence; she is a Wcic …”
A sudden knock came from the door. Xilor looked down at the cube in his palm, peering at him, trying to catch any deceit. In a whirl, he placed the cube back in the cabinet.
Who the hell found me? No one knows of this room!
After shutting the doors to the cabinet, he rushed over to the hatch and threw it open. Vlukus stood before him and bowed.
“The army is ready to march, and the xicx stand by awaiting your command, High One.”
“How did you find me here?” Xilor hissed.
“Since you created us, we can always feel where you are.”
That was a side effect he hadn’t foreseen.
Damn! “Never speak of this room to anyone.”
“Your will be done, High One.”
Xilor followed Vlukus through the winding corridors of Gryzlaud to the balcony overlooking the hold’s courtyard. A stirring of what Xilor could only call joy flowered within his chest. His army of goblins, the small, cruel, and twisted beings of different hues and shades marched under the cover of darkness, conjured by his power. For a long time had he yearned for the thundering sound of conquering footsteps.
Now, the Second Wizard’s War started in earnest.