The purple light faded as the spell ended and the body hit the hard, stone floor. Idon, Mayor Thornvale’s messenger, lay crumpled on the ground, his eyes wide open in shock. Above him towered a beast of a man. Almost as wide as he was tall, the hulking figure sighed, wondering what had become of his life. Almost reflexively he touched the horn that grew out of his head, as he had done countless times in the last few days, and flinched.

Decisions. Choices. As Eli Ashford stood over the dead body of the messenger he had just killed with his new magic, he again wondered if he’d made the right one. He could feel the power coursing through his veins, right down to his bones. The power to do so much, accomplish so much, but also the power to do wrong. The power to do terrible things. Things like killing an innocent messenger who was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“He overheard us,” came a cool, chilling voice from behind the throne that sat on a raised platform towards the back of the room. “You had no other choice, Master.”

Eli turned, and frowned. It was the slick-tongued, raven-haired elf-mage who had led him to make the choices he had, speaking his sly words from the shadows. Eldryn always spoke softly, as if he had your best interests at heart, but Eli could sense the undertones of acidic mal-intent.

“Yeah,” said Eli, in a low tone. “Seems like there was another way we could have dealt with him…” he said, trailing off as a voice sounded in his head. No! The messenger knew what we were after in Umbra’s Veil. He HAD to die!

He put a hand up to his head. The voice had come again. The same voice that told him to kill the messenger to begin with, even though every fiber of his being was begging him not to enact such a terrible deed. When the voice first appeared, on that first night when it told him to command the dark mage Eldryn to blast his friend Faro into oblivion, he had thought it was the same dark mage who was casting voices into his mind. But the next day Eldryn had accompanied Jarl the Wolverine into the woods to give him instruction on his mission, and the voices continued to haunt him, even with the dark presence of the elf far away. Wherever it was coming from was inside Eli, and he wasn’t sure how to rid himself of it.

“Absolutely not,” said Eldryn, conferring with the strange voice in Eli’s head. “He heard us discussing the next phase. He absolutely had to be killed. I mean, I can bring him back if you wish?” Eldyn asked, smiling slyly.

Eli grimaced. The dark elf dabbled in necromancy. Eli had found this out on that first night. After he had killed Cosimir and took his place, a traitor in his midst was revealed to him as a rat, a literal rat-man made from the twisted dark magic that overtook them all. Eli’s inner voice had ordered him to kill the rat, and Eli obeyed. After Faro was dealt with, Eldryn had approached the traitor, Renn, and risen him from the dead. The man was no longer Renn, disciple of Eli and traitor. He was now Renn the obedient, loyal rat.

“No, I think we’re all good with that,” said Eli, a chill running down his spine. “What we really need to focus on is getting messages out to the forces we have throughout Evania. I may be strong as an ox now, but I cannot take on the armies of the people all by myself.” It was true. Eli had been a big hulk of a man before, being a large, burly blacksmith from the depths of the Incarta mines, but once the magical transformation took hold, his muscles bulged with animalistic strength. Not only was he large still, but now he was stronger than any person he had ever encountered. “If we’re to restore Evania to its former glory and restore the above-ground kingdoms, we will need to make sure supply lines are secure and resources are divided where properly needed.”

Eldryn paused as if collecting his thoughts. “You know what that means, Master. As I’ve said before, we have to raise more Shadruul. The dark humans simply won’t suffice, and Cosimir was only able to raise the one small batch of Shadruul that we sent with the dwarf down the mountain.”

Eli shuddered at the thought of the rock monsters they had sent down the mountain with Jarl in search of his friend, Faro. They had received a crow from the dwarf turned Wolverine that he had failed to kill Faro, but had plans to trap him at Umbra’s Veil as he completed his other mission.

“I know you’ve sent my other disciples into the mountain villages to gather the people for the sacrifice, but I cannot…” Eli’s eye began to twitch. His head cocked slightly to the side. The voice. The voice was back. No! They are necessary sacrifice! Build the army!

To Eli’s surprise, he had said this last line of thought out loud. Eldryn just gave him a small, sly smile. “I agree, Master. We must build the army and secure Evania, no matter the cost.” The mage spoke while leaning on the high throne, giving an air as if he owned the place. He just stood there smirking in his black cloak, one hand holding his scepter that Eli assumed enhanced his magical abilities, the other hand gently stroking a black onyx gem at the top.

After a long, almost menacing pause, Eldryn tossed his scepter from one had to the other and strolled down the five steps below the high throne to be on the same level with Eli. “You know…” he said slowly, with a long pause on the end, “…the army could use a solid leader. One who has experienced leading before. Someone of much… tenure…”

The dark elf turned to look behind Eli, and the new High King closed his eyes, knowing exactly what he was referring to. Behind Eli on a raised dais lay the crumpled body of an old man. He wore a gray flowing robe that draped over the side of the dais, much like his long silver, flowing hair. No one had bothered to fix him up much since Eli had pierced him with a spear, and crimson stained his flowing robes. The blood still appeared bright red and fresh. Eldryn had cast a preservation spell over Cosimir and laid him on the Dais of Dead Kings. Eli felt that the tyrant didn’t deserve such honor, but Eldryn had convinced him that it helped his image as a more compassionate ruler flourish once word got out that he showed respect to the previous regime.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“You can’t possibly be thinking about bringing him back,” Eli snorted. “Not after everything he’s done to this land. Everything that we now have to work to rebuild.” He turned to look at the site of Cosimir laying on the slab, the same exact way he had looked when placed there a few days prior. “He’s a tyrant. A menace.”

“He’s a skilled military leader,” said Eldryn, coolly. “Even after the Scourge the sent everyone underground, he still quashed countless rebellions from the Dungeon Lords. It wasn’t until you came along that they all got organized. And honestly you only defeated him with my help!”

Eli knew that to be true, but the voice inside his head began to spark with rage. Eli could feel his eye twitching again as he held his head to steady himself. He wasn’t sure what part of the dark magic this cursed voice was, but he knew that he had to find a way to rid himself of it so he could think straight and make the best decisions for his new rule. As it was, the voice seemed to be taking over his mind, and he couldn’t help but wonder what dark demon or spirit Eldryn had placed in him during the transformation.

“Yes. And I’m still wondering if listening to you was the right thing,” Eli said dryly.

“You’re still alive, Master. Count your blessings,” said the Dark Elf. “And with the Virmorphia magic you now possess, along with your touch of Solana, you can raise an army the likes of which Cosimir could only dream of! You are the chosen one, and restoring this land to it’s former glory is your calling. It is your dominion to rule. I just gave you the power to not have to die for it.”

Eli sighed. “Solana had chosen me to lead the rebellion, not Evania. I was meant to set the people free, not become this beast with dark magic.”

Eldryn’s face fell flat as he stroked his black goatee. “Now, now, young king,” he said, his voice dripping with fake concern. “If not you, then who? I am hardly a grand ruler in my current state, and the Dungeon Kingdoms would hear nothing of me being in charge. Not after all I’ve done. But you are their champion, and even in your… unusual state, they will follow you, Master. Especially if you are helping them to build back what was taken from them.”

This was answered with a snort from Eli. “Yeah, my current state. You failed to mention any of this would happen to me in the process of killing the most evil man in Evania,” he said drying, gesturing a thumb over at the fallen Cosimir on the dais.

“Virmorphia magic is most unpredictable, Master,” Eldryn said. “While I had planned for it to turn your disciples into animals that you could rule, and expose your… rat problem…I had no idea that you would turn beast as well.” He paused and examined the onyx gem on his scepter again. “Although it seems a small price to pay to become ruler of the great Evania,” he said, gesturing out the open-air window and out to the grand landscape of Evania below them.

Eli looked out into the expanse. The mountainside had been cut out and left open for the ruler of Evania to be able to look out almost a hundred miles upon their kingdom. A vast mountain range, and flat grasslands in the distance. Eli had spent much of his time since the transformation taking in the view, and wondering if he had done the right thing. One thing he knew that was absolutely wrong though, was allowing Eldryn to get what he wanted when it came to the old emperor.

“Even so, we cannot bring him back. Even if you think you can control him, elf, I feel as though the dark magic will consume him again. I don’t want any chance that he gets his own faculties back about him and tries to rule from the undead,” said Eli, knowing he still didn’t understand the dark magic that had consumed Cosimir, the same magic that now consumed him. “But this new army, though. You think we need to go to such lengths? I’m not even sure what’s involved, but it sounds like we’d be hurting a lot of innocent people.”

Eldryn sighed. He looked annoyed that his new master had some morals bubbling near the surface. “You said it yourself, Master. We need to be able to secure the supply lines, or there will be all-out war between the kingdoms. Once they know their champion is in charge, they will want to pop back up to the surface and restore their former glory. There will be nothing stopping one kingdom from waging war on another to rebuild their lives above ground.” The dark elf took a step forward and looked down at his former master. “Cosimir barely had any good in him, so he was unable to raise more than a small pack of Shadruul. He had to turn his magic to driving regular humans insane, torturing them until they turned dark and did his bidding.”

“The dark humans,” said Eli nodding. “But they won’t answer to me?”

“They’ve been set free from Cosimir’s magic, Master,” Eldryn said. “I cannot say as to whether we will still have enough hold to get them to do what we need. Shadruul on the other hand are beasts of the earth. If you combine the persuasion of dark magic with the life force and elements of light magic and nature, you get a beast that is completely obedient, and a mighty force.”

Eli thought about it. He didn’t like the idea of sacrificing the people of the mountains for the greater good of the rest of Evania. There had to be another way. But there isn’t. It was that voice again. The people of the mountains are savages. Humble tribes that didn’t want to conform to the rest of the kingdoms. They live in the mountains like animals.

Shaking his head, Eli found the voice speaking for him out loud again. “Yes, whatever it takes to secure the new Evania.”

Eldryn shook his head, pleased. “Glad you agree, Master. And we should also bring Cosimir back to life. He will be completely loyal to us. The undead have no choice but to be loyal to the necromancer who brought them back. They act upon my will.”

Eli wasn’t sure if he was more afraid of Cosimir regaining self-direction, or of him being completely at the will of the dark elf. He couldn’t let either option happen. With the flick of his wrist, his new magic produced a dark black fireball in his palm, a look of determination on his face.

Eldryn slowly glanced down at the fire in Eli’s hand. “What do you think you’re doing with that?” he said, his always-calm voice not breaking it’s cool stride.

What are you doing? Echoed the voice in Eli’s head. Don’t do anything foolish.

“He cannot come back. He’s done enough damage to Evania,” said Eli, determined to shake the voice and burn Cosimir the Eternal beyond magical revival. He hoped beyond hope that dark magic would prevent dark magic from reanimating the old emperor.

“He can control the Shadruul and lead the army,” said Eldryn, uncharacteristic haste in his voice now.

Eli paused, the flame flickering in his hand, but not burning him. This magic was weird. Unnatural. Just like raising people back from the dead. He lifted his hand high.

“Don’t!” Eldryn yelled, the first time Eli had heard him raise his voice barely above a whisper. The fire flew from Eli’s hand to the dais, and Cosimir the Eternal’s body erupted in black flames.

Eldryn stared in shock at what his new Master had just done. At the same time the voice was yelling in Eli’s head, deafeningly loud. So loud the Eli winced from how high the scream was coming from within his head.

Fool! Don’t burn me!