Champion of the Gods
Copyright© 2025 by QM
Chapter 53
Darras again turned to face the sceptre and took a deep breath before reaching out to grasp it. Energy flared through the object, and Darras gasped, then screamed in agony as it coursed through him, making his hand cauterise, and the air in his lungs seemingly feel like it was on fire. To Mirion, who was watching with concern, Darras’s whole body seemed wreathed in smoke and glowed redly with an internal light.
Collapsing to his knees, blinded, and in extreme pain, Darras reached out with his other hand to grip the sceptre even as his original grip fell away in carbonised chunks. Again, agony washed over Darras, and in the background, he heard a scream of anger and loss as whatever was contained within the sceptre fought desperately to survive the antithesis of magic that Darras represented.
Clinging on with grim determination, Darras, despite slowly feeling his senses dull at his extremities, felt the last of the energies in the sceptre dissipate until, with a mental howl, the First One’s soul departed the sceptre for final judgement by the Allfather. ‘Good, ’ was all Darras could think before consciousness fled his body and he collapsed onto the floor of the chamber.
‘Help him, Mirion, it’s safe to approach now, ’ Hallis requested.
Dropping her shield, Mirion went to Darras’s side, wincing at the damage the magical discharge had done. Still, Darras was still breathing, barely, so Mirion began the arduous task of dragging the mass of carbonised, cauterised flesh that remained of Darras up the stairs to the magic circle she’d prepared, wincing at every bump as parts of Darras’s body fell away in burnt-out chunks.
Once inside the circle, Mirion entreated Hallis to come and heal Darras, and the spiritual form of Hallis appeared, guiding Mirion’s healing powers to seal wounds and restore burned flesh, clearing Darras’s lungs and strengthening his circulatory system.
“I can do no more here, Mirion,” Hallis finally said. “Regrowth of his missing parts will need to take place in Erren’s demesne.”
“I ... I don’t think I’m strong enough to get him on the wagon,” Mirion confessed.
“Allow me,” Hallis smiled and stepped into Mirion before casting a spell through the Elf to make Darras’s body float upwards and onto the bed of the cart.
“Thank you, my goddess,” a thankful Mirion replied.
“Get the cart to the trade gateway, Klavin is waiting there and will deal with the ... treasures stored here while you bring Darras to me.”
“Of course,” Mirion nodded, mounting the wagon and setting a hard pace back to Timun despite the fall of night.
Fortunately. Mirion, being an Elf, meant that her night vision was superb, and she was able to guide the cart at speed to Timun and through the mostly deserted streets to the back of the gateway building, where Klavin was waiting.
“Well done, my friend,” Klavin greeted Mirion in gruff tones.
“Well, he’s alive, but not in good shape,” Mirion sighed.
“Yes, but this was expected,” Klavin nodded. “Just guide the cart in, and you’ll be taken to Gilmea’s demesne, where Hallis waits.”
“My thanks.”
“No problem, you pair did the hard work, I’ll take care of the rest here,” Klavin nodded as Mirion entered the gateway and Klavin unhitched the horses and led them away.
Rather than take the cart, which generally happened during a freight run, Erren grabbed both Darras and Mirion and brought them to her demesne, where Hallis took charge of Darras’s recovery and regrowth.
“Thank you for keeping him alive,” Erren said to Mirion as they went to the pools where the gods friendly to Erren were enjoying themselves.
“It was mostly Hallis,” Mirion replied. “It was all I could do to keep him breathing and his heart beating whilst dragging him up the stairs.”
“You did all that was expected,” Erren smiled. “Hence my gratitude.”
“Heard anything about the Dark Lord?”
“No, not yet, though I expect a visit from Serulon before too long,” Erren replied as they reached the pools, disrobed and settled with a sigh of pleasure into the hotter parts.
“Klavin will deal with the artefacts left behind,” Pelegard informed Erren. “Some of them are quite valuable and will help Timun to rebuild.”
“Yes, that was a terrible tragedy,” Sorella muttered. “Our brother allowed a mortal to be possessed and just let it loose on an unprepared town.”
“I doubt there are many more sceptres like that around,” Tsumi replied, “Though the Deadlands continue to surprise.”
“I have long-term plans for the place,” Doriel added. “Just need to rid it of all the magics and curses.”
“A couple of thousand years,” Pelegard chuckled. “There aren’t that many like Klavin who can deal with it.”
“Rustav being no help whatsoever,” Osruit chuckled.
“He did give me a heads up when the local Lord’s forces were annihilated,” Erren shrugged. “He hasn’t an agent of Darras’s class either.”
“Rustav has an agent?” Crannok queried.
“A magic user skilled in lightning magics,” Erren replied. “All flash and no bang ... so to speak.”
“Oh, you mean that clown Rustav uses to show off what a great god he is?” Doriel asked.
“Yes, he illuminates various temples with the power of Rustav on their feast days.”
“No wonder Rustav got in touch with you,” Doriel giggled.
“That’s twice now recently,” Erren replied. “Both times caused by artefacts from the Deadlands.”
“This one being a bit more serious,” Saltak nodded. “What with our brother’s direct involvement.”
“I suspect he’ll deny it was him and that there, some sort of powerful magic user running loose,” Erren sighed. “He’ll point to his agent Casal living quietly in Ssthastar.”
“Darras caused him some issues, though,” Saltak replied.
“More due to the limited room than anything else,” Erren pointed out. “He wouldn’t be able to beat any of us under normal circumstances.”
“Can he get better?” Pelegard asked.
“Oh yes, he improves every time we spar,” Erren nodded. “But, without magic, he has a major disadvantage.”
“Ah, yes,” Pelegard nodded. “The only advantage he has is that we need to see him to cast at him.”
“Even that won’t work against area effect,” Sorella replied. “Though that would be a dead giveaway if our brother tried that.”
Hallis finally appeared and slipped into the pools with a sigh. “He’s sleeping now,” she informed the group.
“Bad?” Saltak asked.
“Yes, the magic discharges from the soul trap burned him alive from his extremities inward,” Hallis grimaced. “They also blinded and deafened him, as well as burning his tongue to a crisp.”
“I felt it all,” Erren said quietly.
“He is quite the man,” Hallis smiled. “I’m envious.”
“Mirion is just as special in her own way,” Erren frowned.
“I meant from his physical prowess in your bedroom, dear sister,” Hallis chuckled. “Feeling it all is such a wicked innuendo.”
The gods roared in laughter as Erren blushed furiously. “Seriously, sister?”
“I’m the goddess of fertility,” Hallis laughed. “How else am I going to view things?”
“You know your Darras will be fine if Hallis can joke about things, sister,” Pelegard chuckled.
“He will be fine, though some work will be needed to ease his mental state,” Hallis nodded. “Still, I doubt what happened would stop him from doing the same thing again if necessary.”
“That’s true,” Doriel agreed. “Oh, she’s coming.”
The gods eyes tracked to the lawn where Serulon appeared.
“Be welcome, sister,” Erren greeted Serulon politely. “I take it he weaselled out of it?”
“Yes, nothing but denial and saying that the word of a mortal is not to be trusted,” Serulon sighed, making her clothes vanish, grabbing a goblet of wine and stepping into the pools. “Oh, this is a nice vintage.”
“Dad unable to do anything as yet?” Doriel asked.
“Not yet, though he’s now aware there’s an issue with a potential loophole.”
“If the dreamlands are being used, it’s very subtle,” Tsumi frowned. “I haven’t detected anything.”
“I suspect our avatars could cloak themselves,” Pelegard replied. “Not that I would know how even to begin learning how he did it.”
“He got the idea from Casal,” Erren explained. “But I don’t think he’s quite using the same method.”
“Is Darras recovered?” Serulon asked.
“He’s sleeping whilst I deal with the stress and trauma to his mind,” Erren replied.
“That was quite reckless of him, if effective.”
“The fight or the sceptre?” Sorella asked.
“Both, I suppose, though it’s the sceptre that did the damage.”
“True, we were all watching via Hallis, who was viewing through Mirion.”
“I believe our brother was somewhat disturbed at what Darras did to deal with the sceptre,” Serulon replied with a wry smile.
“It does mean that any plots of his involving mortals or magic are at risk due to the abilities of Darras,” Pelegard chuckled.
“It won’t stop him trying,” Erren frowned. “I just wish he’d stick to his remit rather than trying to force collapses and prevent growth.”
“He would say that he’s doing the same as you do when you set a narrative in motion,” Serulon shrugged.
“I’ve never had to possess anyone to change it as he did with those shadow scales,” Erren replied. “I’ve used Darras to aid certain people or groups, admittedly, though that’s all within the rules.”
“Yes, agents are allowed to do that,” Serulon nodded. “His use of the shadow scales, though unusual, wasn’t fully against the rules either.”
“He can’t use them anymore,” Sorella shrugged. “Thank goodness.”
“I’m surprised he hasn’t attempted to release the dragon,” Doriel mused.
“We’d just put it back,” Erren smiled. “Nor would I expect Casal to be cooperative over going back to Gresh.”
“No doubt he’ll try something,” Hallis replied.
“Yes, though at the moment, there are no real changes to the narrative,” Erren nodded. “Even Timun would not have changed the current path of Asul.”
“I suspected that was more of an experiment, or an attempt to get at Darras ... possibly both,” Doriel replied.
“Yes, killing Darras would inconvenience me for about twenty years,” Erren smiled thinly. “Though my work would carry on.”
The Dark Lord pondered options. His meeting with the Allfather and Serulon had tried his patience, though fortunately, they could not prove that he had been upon the world. Still, he’d need to be more circumspect, as once suspicions were raised, Serulon at least would be keeping a close eye out for any unusual changes to the narrative.
Still, there were plenty of opportunities to change the narrative through sub-optimal decisions, and if he was careful, he could influence those who would take them.
Darras awoke in the luxurious comfort of the bed he and Erren shared. That he was fully healed was no surprise; even the memories of it seemed distant, for which Darras was thankful. The smell of cooking caused Darras’s stomach to growl, and he swiftly made his way downstairs to where Erren was preparing a cooked breakfast.
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