Mekiell — the once Archmage of Ayolk — sat upon his thrown at the top of a lonely and unnatural mountain.
From its peak, only empty, desolate wasteland could be seen. If someone wanted to waste their time, they could study the dust storms raging over the land and the ground they concealed.
They would find the remnants of rivers and lakes, though no sign of water or plant life, let alone animals, could be seen, as those were long since scoured from sight. But if one looked really close, they would see the remnants of structures.
The last remaining stones of pillars and obelisks that once scraped the sky and walls that could hold back oceans. If someone dug into the grime-covered bedrock, they might find the divots that were all that remained of basements. The basements of buildings that would have been the palaces of emperors on lesser worlds.
Remnants of the grandeur of old were few and far between on the plains, but one could find them if they looked, though they would hardly know it.
On the mountain's top, a mountain that had grown so large that to walk up its side at the casual pace of a mortal would take a year and a day, but would kill any mortal long before they ever came close to reaching its summit, were the last remnants of the city that ruled all that stood below. A palace that decided the fates of countless worlds hidden amongst the stars.
The summit had isolated, warn-down pillars that barely stood against the testament of time. A few small piles of stone marred the flat expanse, denoting where walls once stood. On the few occasions that a gust of wind dared to disturb the serenity of the peak, it stirred up the layer of dust covering ornate flagstones inlaid with gold, silver, and precious gems long hidden.
The only spot in all that destruction that was whole, that had a semblance of the majesty of old, was a scarred man sitting on a jade throne placed in the center of it all.
Seven gems formed a half circle above where Mekiell rested his head on the throne. The gems were placed at the edges of a carving of a sun, with seven twisting lines radiating outward from a single mass.
Each gem was a different type and color, glowing with a slight but steady inner light. All but the eighth gem.
Without warning, what looked like a rock in the center of the gems changed from a dull white to completely clear. There was no color to the light. In fact, it was almost as if everything around it lost color as it started shining.
The man resting on the chair moved for the first time in what could be considered an Age.
His finger twitched.
Slight as the movement was, it should have sent a cascade of dust tumbling from where it was long stacked upon his body. For he had been sitting on the thrown long enough to be a noticeable mark on a geological timescale. But his pale and unblemished skin looked as clean as if he had just bathed and had never spent a whole day working under the Origin in his life.
The null-light of the stone grew brighter, then started pulsing.
A slow sigh escaped the man's mouth before his eyes popped open with a snap.
His eyes were empty for a few moments, as if there was no longer a soul in his body. After long seconds passed, a spark entered them.
With a groan, he popped his neck and rolled his shoulders before giving a world-weary sigh. "I had hoped," rasped the voice of a desert wind chafing over the sands. "to never wake again."
The jade throne pulsed with rainbow light before stopping. A semi-transparent multicolored sphere smaller than a fist lifted from the crown of the chair.
It darted to the side and formed into a figure that appeared to Mekiell's right side in a deep bow. "I am sorry, Archmage." Said the figure, her words like the whispering of the wind. "But fate has offered us one last chance. Or at the least, a potential reprieve from destruction."
Mekiell closed his eyes, and the world around him darkened as the weight of time pressed down on him. Then he blew out a breath that swept the mountaintop clean. “…Tell me of this last… opportunity, Azera." He caressed the word 'opportunity' as he spoke of a lover who had scorned him so often that the name had become one of the vilest curses to me. As he spoke, she straightened to face him.
Azera was beautiful. No one looking upon her could say she was less, but it was a beauty beyond mortal comprehension. Or that of a natural disaster.
Azera's hair was a deep emerald, but instead of hair, it was thin vines. Her skin was a dark brown, like rich soil, and with blue veins like rivers running along her skin. She was wearing a simple sundress of liquid shadows falling just below her knees while being surrounded by a yellow halo as her dress and hair danced in a non-existent wind. But her eyes were like standing above twin volcanos and watching the lava in their basins boil.
Originally, she was little more than a spirit construct that helped him control and amplify his power. But now? After untold years where she wielded his power and became the very personification of those elements, he was no longer sure what she was.
"The Seeds have returned," Azera said, excitement filling her voice.
When was she able to become excited? And what were the Seeds again? Mekiell thought to himself, but his memories were clouded. Everything was so distant and blurred together that picking out any single memory was nearly impossible. But…
Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.
"Ahh." Mekiell gasped as the memory surfaced. It was back at the beginning of his living hell. "I thought the colony ships were destroyed?"
"We assumed they were." Azera's voice was gentle and slow as she spoke, "but all we knew for certain was that the dimensional links between them and their power sources were cut. It is unlikely, but some of the ships could have survived the unguided transition from subspace. And depending on where they dropped out, they could have traveled quite the distance in the void between stars on their own. So long as they were willing to make… sacrifices, it is possible they made it to habitable worlds. The odds were so unlikely that we wrote them off as lost before we had to seal off the space around Hellious and strip the mana from the rest of the galaxy."
Mekiell was nodding along with her words as the memories returned to him, but when she said the last part, panic flared up inside him, and he asked, "Did the seal break?"
"No, Mekiell," Azera said reassuringly, "The Seal did not break. But there is no denying my spiritual readings. They are the descendants of the Seed Ships. How they got here, I cannot say. But I can guess why."
"Oh?" Mekiell asked, prompting her. He felt something other than bone-deep weariness for the first time since he awoke.
"Their star ships are engaged with the Voktu Swarm trapped in the dimensional pocket around us. It appears they have almost exterminated them, though they are having trouble killing the last ones due to how space is warped. In recent centuries I have noticed a fraying of the sub-dimensional pocket. The Voktu must have creeped out, making a nuisance of themselves, and were tracked back here." Azera explained.
"Sounds reasonable, though I fail to understand how they traveled here without mana. But they are here, and the rest doesn't matter…" Mekiell sighed heavily and braced himself for the bad news. "How many are up there?"
"I cannot be confident, as part of the reason for the fraying of the sub-dimension around Hellious was that the Voktu were able to expand the dimensional pocket far beyond its original limits. I am only able to scan the inner portion, but if my senses are right, there are tens of thousands of starships on the low side, the largest of which are holding tens of thousands of crew members."
Mekiell stared at something beyond the sky, unwilling to process the information for long seconds. Finally, he whispered so softly that it was no louder than the pattering of a mouse, "So, we still have a chance."
"A small one," Azera agreed. Whether she read his mind, as she was bonded to his soul, or could pick up such soft sounds was anyone's guess. "This will be the last, though. One way or another, The Seal will break soon."
"We knew it wouldn't last forever." Mekiell sighed, shoulders dropping slightly as his head sank forward. "I tried to reverse my folly and pay the cost of my hubris, but all I could do was slow the inevitable. Even now, I doubt we will get much more than time."
"As you once said, Mekiell," Azera said with a fond smile, "Give me enough time, and I'll make the galaxy kneel."
Mekiell flinched at the quote, "The arrogance of youth." he said, trying to wave off the comment.
"But you did it. And you conquered the neighboring galaxies and built your own dimension."
"And then I went so deep into the Void, digging for another reality, that I found the Corruption." Mekiell spat, his voice filled with self-scorn.
"It would have found us eventually," Soothed Azera. "That is, after all, its purpose. Continuously expanding to new resources to feed its masters. At least this way, you were able to discover the threat and seal it off, buying us time to devise a proper plan."
"It's little comfort." He said, looking out over the dead plain around the mountain, remembering the city that once stretched to the horizon. "As this desolation is where my decisions brought us."
"That is true." Azera agreed, "But there is still time for something to change. And my logic is sound. Sometimes, that is all one can ask for.."
Mekiell glanced up at Azera in surprise, saying, "When did you learn—" Then he shook his head, throwing off the thought, "It doesn't matter. Out of all I have done, you might be my greatest creation. You have grown far beyond what I had thought possible."
For an instant, she looked bashful, like a child who had received a compliment and didn't know how to handle it. Then her face twisted with remorse, "Only because I am feeding off your powers. As your body wains… I grow. Nothing more than a leech."
"Or a decomposing tree giving way and feeding the newest sprout. I do not blame you for what has been done to me. For what I have done." Mekiell said, reaching out to Azera, trying to comfort her. She grabbed his hand with hers and held it tight, and he felt her skin, which was surprisingly soft and warm.
Mekiell smiled fondly at her for long seconds, then looked past the blue sky above. "Maybe there is one crazy bastard up there willing to dream of the impossible and make it a reality." He said, "Well, we can only hope. How will you do it?"
Azera stood back up and regained her poise as she spoke confidently, "I will collapse the sub-dimension around this world and make it a one-way shell. Everything inside will be sucked in, but nothing will be able to leave. It shouldn't be a problem with them able to deal with the Voktu."
Mekiell nodded and asked, "The cost? And are you sure your senses aren't being manipulated?"
Azera paused, looking pained as she spoke, "I am as sure as I can be. And the mana you must channel will take multiple millennia off your life. You won't die immediately, but it will cut it down to centuries, and some of the Restrictions will be broken or lessened."
"I thought as much," Mekiell said, then turned and gave Azera a warm smile, "Well, you better get to it before our conscripts decide to leave."
"As you wish, Father." At her words, the throne burst with multicolored light. The mountain rang like a bell seven times, sending out shock waves and dust storms from different portions of its base until it traveled all the way around. Then the eighth time, the entire mountain shook.
With each of the peels, a different section of the mountain exploded outward as the long-dormant mana pathways built into the mountain amplifier started flowing. Red, brown, yellow, blue, green, gold, and black light flooded the sides of the mountain. A moment after them, the clear null-light started pooling around the edge of the mountain's peak.
Mekiell's body had gone rigid as the flood of power rolled through him, and his eyes and mouth were sending out a rainbow light that pierced the clouds overhead, blowing them away. When he spoke, his words shook the earth and collapsed a few of the more precarious pillars from the raw power they contained, "I HAVE CONTROL."
Without waiting a moment longer, Azera started pulling on the gathered power forming it into a spell, then sent it flying into the sky in a beam that covered the entire top of the mountain.
The energy struck the barrier surrounding their world and started reshaping the dimensional pocket. Everyone and thing within the area it contained was pulled down to Hellious to fight in what could only be an eternal war.
One that the inhabitants of this dimension had been losing since the moment it started.