Alex quickly erected a psionic barrier around himself and his comrades, his mind racing as the weight of their situation bore down on him. The Dream Guardian had retracted her protection in retaliation for his defiance, leaving his psionic shield as the only thing standing between his party and the horrific transformation into mind flayers. The barrier shimmered, a delicate weave of mental energy that flickered under the relentless assault from a monstrous mind that loomed over them like a cosmic giant.
He could feel it—a mind so vast and ravenous that it dwarfed even his considerable mental prowess. The pressure was immense, as if he were an ant trying to hold back the crushing weight of a mountain. The monstrous intellect battered against his barrier with ceaseless, brutal force, each psychic blow threatening to shatter the fragile shield. He could sense it, the moment of collapse drawing nearer, the command to transform ready to be unleashed upon the tadpoles lodged within his companions brains.
With desperation clawing at him, Alex sprouted more tendrils from his body, each one snaking out towards his companions. They burrowed into the brain of Gale, Astarion, Shadowheart, Lae'zel, and Karlach seeking to consumed the tadpoles. Wyll's tadpole already consumed . The pressure was overwhelming, the monstrous mind a relentless force of nature that seemed unstoppable. Just as the barrier was on the brink of collapse, his tendrils about to consume the tadpoles , everything changed.
Alex found himself atop a destroyed tower. The sky was a clear, endless blue, with the sun blazing high above, casting its warm light over the ruins. But Alex knew better—this was no ordinary place. "This is similar to the place the Dream Guardian made," he thought, his eyes narrowing as he scanned his surroundings. "A simulacrum."
A presence stirred behind him, and he turned to face it. Before him stood a young man, though he looked more like a boy. His hair was as dark as the night, cascading down to his chest in a silken wave. His gentle green eyes seemed to pierce into Alex’s very soul, their gaze unwavering. His skin had the rich, warm hue of polished bronze, and his long, pointed ears peeked through his flowing hair, adorned with earrings that shimmered and changed color like a rainbow. His robes were simple, yet elegant, a blend of white, black, and blue that seemed to shift and ripple like water in the sunlight.
"I've been waiting for you," the young man said, his voice soft but carrying an undeniable weight.
"Who are you?" Alex asked, his voice laced with suspicion. A cold thought crossed his mind: perhaps the Dream Guardian had been trying to stop him from saving his party. He tried to check his body, to assess his surroundings more thoroughly, but he simply couldn't.
"Do not be afraid," the young man reassured him, his tone calm and almost soothing. "Time is passing so slowly in the real world that it could be said that time has stopped."
The man gave a small, respectful bow before continuing, "My name is Karsus, the greatest and most powerful wizard who ever lived."
A surge of disbelief coursed through Alex. "You can't be," he replied, his voice firm as he recalled everything he knew about Karsus. "Karsus was never accepted as a petitioner by any god, nor did he go to the Fugue Plane when he died. Instead, his soul was bound to the Material Plane. Those with experience in pact magic could summon his vestige, where he appeared as a giant blood-red boulder, like the one found in the High Forest where his petrified form landed. Blood burbled up from the top of the stone, trickling down the side facing the summoner and pooling at the base. When he spoke, the pool fountained upwards, its height varying on the volume of his voice. Karsus granted the summoner a boost in magical ability, though he also imparted some of the arrogance he was renowned for. For some reason, this vestige had a strange enmity toward Amon."
The young man chuckled softly, a sad, knowing smile on his lips. "That is correct. That is the real me—broken, destroyed, fractured beyond repair. I am merely a shadow, a construct made in the last moment of the real Karsus’s existence."
"Then what do you want from me?" Alex asked, his voice hardening. There had to be a reason for this encounter.
Karsus clapped his hands, and the world around them warped, the tower vanishing beneath their feet as they were suspended in mid-air. The sky darkened, turning pitch black, like tar, with patches of blood-red sky peeking through the gloom. The sun was eclipsed, casting a sickly, crimson light over the scene.
Alex looked down, his breath catching in his throat as he took in the horrific sight below.
“What the fuck is this?” The words slipped out before he could stop them, raw and unfiltered.
Below them stretched a sprawling landscape of living flesh—cities built from organic matter, pulsating and throbbing like a cancerous growth that had consumed the world. Organic skyscrapers reached up towards the dark sky, their twisted forms obscured by the ominous clouds above. Chains of flesh-bound slaves, representing every race imaginable, marched in endless lines, tending to the grotesque structures. Ilithids, the mind flayers, moved among them, their monstrous forms floating through the air with an eerie grace. Nautiloid ships drifted overhead, like predatory birds circling a carcass.
“What is this? What are you showing me?” Alex demanded, his voice shaking with a mixture of horror and disbelief.
“This is the future,” Karsus replied, his voice heavy with sorrow and gravitas. He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in, allowing Alex to fully absorb the nightmare unfolding below.
“This is the fate that awaits Faerûn .” Karsus continued, his tone grave. “A world where all life is subjugated, twisted, and enslaved to the will of these abominations. A future where hope is a distant memory, and freedom is nothing but a forgotten dream.”
Karsus's voice lingered in the air, heavy with the weight of destiny. "At least, it was until you appeared," he continued, his gaze piercing through Alex as if looking directly into his soul. "You are the key to stopping this future. You are the savior of this world."
The words struck Alex like a bolt of lightning, the enormity of the claim sending a shiver down his spine. Him? The savior of this world? Doubt gnawed at him, but there was no mistaking the conviction in Karsus's voice. The ancient wizard clapped his hands, and the world around them shifted once more, the grotesque vision of the future fading as they found themselves back atop the ruined tower. The sun still burned in the sky, a stark contrast to the dark, apocalyptic landscape they had just witnessed.
A pair of ornate chairs materialized before them, their surfaces engraved with intricate patterns of swirling arcane symbols. Karsus gestured for Alex to sit, and despite the turmoil in his mind, Alex complied, sinking into the surprisingly comfortable chair. Karsus followed suit, his demeanor calm and composed, as if they were merely discussing the weather rather than the fate of the world.
"Make yourself comfortable," Karsus said with a slight smile, "for I am about to tell you a little piece of history."
Alex leaned forward, his eyes fixed on Karsus, every word from the wizard’s mouth now carrying an undeniable weight.
Karsus began his tale, his voice steady and resonant. "Shouldering the responsibility of preserving his civilization, Karsus—the original me—spent years creating a spell, Karsus's Avatar, a spell so powerful it could steal the essence of a deity and transfer it to the archwizard who cast it. He believed, with the power of a god, he could destroy the Phaerimm and unite his people, saving the empire of Netheril from certain destruction."
Alex listened intently, as Karsus recounted the tragic tale. "But Karsus made a grave mistake," the wizard continued, his voice tinged with regret. "He chose Mystryl, the goddess of magic, as his target. He believed her power was the most potent, the most fitting for his purposes. But what he did not realize was that Mystryl’s role was to regulate the flow of magic across the world, a responsibility that no mortal, no matter how powerful, could ever hope to fulfill."
The story unfolded like a nightmare, vivid and terrible. "When Karsus cast his spell, he briefly achieved apotheosis, gaining powers over all magic. But in doing so, he destabilized the Weave, causing magic to surge uncontrollably across the world. Mystryl, with the last of her strength, sacrificed herself to sever Karsus’s link to the Weave, causing all magic to fail. The flying cities of Netheril plummeted from the skies, crashing to the earth in a cataclysm that annihilated an entire civilization. And as Karsus fell, his body turning to stone, the last thing he saw was the destruction he had wrought—his people, his empire, reduced to rubble because of his hubris. This disaster came to be known as Karsus's Folly."
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
A story of unimaginable loss, of a man who sought to save his people but instead brought about their doom. Karsus’s expression darkened, his eyes reflecting the depth of his remorse. "This is Karsus’s story, but there is a small part, something that not even the gods know."
Alex’s eyes and ears were trained on Karsus.
"In the last moment before his annihilation," Karsus continued, "he used every ounce of magic left in the world to cast one final spell. He sought to see the future of his world, to understand the full consequences of his actions. And then he saw it—the same apocalyptic vision I showed you, a world consumed by the illithids, where hope had died and darkness reigned."
Karsus paused, the weight of the revelation pressing down on Alex. "Frantically, he searched for a way to stop this fate. In that moment of desperation, he cast a divination spell—a spell to search for someone, or something, that could prevent this apocalypse." Karsus's gaze locked onto Alex, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "And he saw you."
The words echoing in Alex mind. Karsus had seen him—across time, across dimensions, in a moment of utter desperation. The ancient wizard had seen him as the key to preventing the end of the world.
Karsus continued, his tone urgent now. "Knowing he had found the answer, Karsus sealed away a piece of the wild Weave, a fragment of magic beyond comprehension, inside one of his tomes. He cast it away, hoping that in time, it would find its way to the one destined to wield it. And now, that piece of the Weave has finally found you, Alex."
Alex opened his mouth to speak, to ask the countless questions that swirled in his mind, but before he could utter a word, the world around him began to shatter. The simulacrum of Karsus froze mid-sentence, his form breaking apart like glass, the sound of cracking echoing in the empty air. Everything fragmented, the tower, the sky, the chairs—all of it splintering into a thousand pieces before vanishing into the void.
Reality rushed back in a torrent, and Alex found himself back under the obsidian dome. The monstrous mind was still pressing against his barrier, which now flickered and frayed at the edges, ready to collapse. But there was no time for hesitation. Alex acted.
With a surge of determination, he consumed the tadpoles, just as the barrier fell.
He placed a trembling hand over his chest, where he felt the presence of the orb that had once been nestled within Gale’s chest. Now, it resided within him, a blazing sphere of raw magic, infused with the fragment of the Weave that Karsus had entrusted to him across time.
The overwhelming power of the orb within his chest began to surge. The fragment of the wild Weave, nestled deep inside him, stirred with a ravenous hunger—a hunger that sought to consume, to absorb, to wield the very essence of magic itself.
"Fuck," Alex muttered under his breath, urgency lacing his voice as he quickly retracted the obsidian dome. With a flick of his wrist, he cast Dimension Door. Tendrils slithered around his companions, lifting their limp bodies into the air as if they were mere puppets.
In a flash, Alex hurled himself through the shimmering portal, emerging onto the weathered stone bridge that led to the Last Light Inn. The island loomed ahead.
He sprinted across the bridge, every step echoing like a death knell. His face flicked to his companions that were still unconsciousness and gently placed them on the ground.
As he stood over them, a pair of raven-black wings erupted from his back. Feathers as dark as the void unfurled, and with a single powerful beat, he took to the skies. The wind roared around him but it was nothing compared to the cacophony inside his mind—the orb, that fragment of the wild Weave, was awakening, and it demanded more.
Alex landed with a thud, the stone beneath him splintering under the force of his descent. Agony ripped through him as his chest suddenly tore open, the plates parting like fragile parchment. The orb, pulsing with energy, was fully exposed, its surface a swirling maelstrom of chaotic magic.
"Ahhh!" Alex gasped, the pain nearly bringing him to his knees. The cursed mist that had long surrounded the place surged forward, drawn to the orb like iron filings to a magnet. A vortex formed around him, a spiraling storm of darkness that threatened to consume everything in its path.
He could feel it—the shadow Weave, a twisted and corrupted version of the Weave created by Shar herself, was being inexorably drawn into the orb. It was ravenous, an insatiable void that devoured the shadow Weave with reckless abandon. The power was overwhelming, almost too much to bear, but Alex held firm, he rose from the ground, suspended by the orb’s unnatural hunger. His body already adapting .
The vortex of darkness grew, pulling in more and more of the shadow Weave. Alex’s vision blurred, the world around him dimming as the orb fed, the sensation of power intoxicating and terrifying all at once. His body was the eye of the storm, and he knew that if he faltered now, there would be nothing left of him but a husk.
Back at the inn, panic spread like wildfire as the mist, which had once hung ominously at the edges of the dome, now rushed past it, homing in on Alex’s location with malevolent intent.
"Halsin, do you have any idea what is happening?" Jaheira’s voice cut through the tension, sharp and commanding, but there was an edge of desperation to it.
Halsin didn’t respond immediately. His eyes were wide, pupils dilated as he stared at the unfolding disaster outside. The druid’s usually calm demeanor had crumbled, replaced by something akin to awe or fear. "The Oak Father protects us," Halsin murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, as if even speaking too loudly might hasten their doom.
"The dome is cracking!" Isobel’s shout echoed across the inn, her voice trembling as the first pieces of the magical barrier began to flake away, leaving the inn’s occupants exposed to the malevolent forces outside.
"Everyone, to arms!" Jaheira ordered, her voice steady but urgent. The Harpers snapped to attention, weapons drawn, their eyes darting between the crumbling dome and the swirling darkness beyond. There was no question in their minds—they would fight, but deep down, they feared it might not be enough.
Meanwhile, on a balcony , at the Moonrise Towers, Radja stood with her hand clenching the stone balustrade, her knuckles white. She stared in disbelief at the vortex of darkness that had erupted in the center of the town. The air hummed with raw power, and she could feel the magical energy within her slowly being siphoned away, drawn towards that horrifying storm.
"What in Myrkul’s name is happening?" she murmured, eyes wide with shock and fear.
"Maybe it’s Lord Ketheric’s doing?" one of the adepts beside her suggested, voice quavering as they watched the scene unfold.
Radja shook her head, her expression grim. "No… no, that thing has nothing to do with him," she replied, her voice hollow. The power that was gathering in that vortex was beyond anything she had ever encountered—ancient, primal, and utterly devoid of mercy. The air itself seemed to tremble as the orb drew in the shadow Weave, the very fabric of reality warping around it. She had no idea what it was , but she knew one thing for certain—whatever it was, it was terrifying beyond measure.
Alex’s body floated, suspended in the eye of the storm as the orb absorbed the last vestiges of the shadow Weave. The vortex began to slow, the swirling tendrils of darkness gradually dissipating as the orb fed, sated. The pain in his chest dulled, replaced by an eerie calm that spread through his entire being.
The orb pulsed one last time, and Alex gasped as the energy surged through him, his body trembling from the raw power that now coursed through his veins. The ravenous hunger of the fragment had been quelled .
Alex’s body gently descended to the ground. As his feet touched the earth, the unnatural quiet that had settled over the land began to lift. The air, once thick with the oppressive weight of the mist, felt lighter—almost breathable again.
For the first time in a century, the sky cleared, and golden rays of sunlight pierced through the fading remnants of darkness. The light touched everything—the stone roads that had long been shrouded in shadow, withered trees that had forgotten the warmth of day, and the once-dormant forest now beginning to stir with life. The land, which had been bathed in gloom for so long, seemed to sigh in relief as the sun finally reclaimed its dominion over the land.
Alex stood still, his gaze fixed on the horizon as the light spread across the landscape, washing away the nightmares that had clung to it for generations. He felt a profound stillness in the air, a reverent hush as if the entire world was holding its breath, waiting to see what would come next.
Slowly, he lowered his eyes to his chest. Where moments ago there had been an open wound, revealing the terrible power of the orb, now there was only his armor, seamlessly mended as if it had never been torn. The orb’s presence was concealed once more, hidden beneath layers of flesh , but its influence was impossible to ignore. It pulsed faintly beneath his skin, a silent reminder of the power it held—the power he now wielded.
But it wasn’t just power. The orb had changed him. He could feel it in every fiber of his being, a thrumming energy that connected him to something far greater than himself. The wild Weave and the shadow Weave, now swirled within him together with the rest of the energies nested inside his body. Their chaotic energies balanced in a fragile harmony that only he could barely maintain.
Now, in this fleeting moment of peace, he allowed himself to feel the warmth of the sun, to let it sink into his bones. It was a reminder that even in the darkest times, light could return. And with that light came hope—a hope that, perhaps, he could finally tip the scales in favor of life, of freedom, of everything worth fighting for.
He took a deep breath, the air filled with the scent of earth and growing things, and looked toward the horizon. The battle was far from over, but he knew he could face whatever came next.