Chapter 779: The First Ravener

When Alex returned with the others to Uldar’s Rise, there was no lack of Watchers present.

The area was secured, and a perimeter had been established, fortifying the gate. Watcher Hill was now there.

“They must've contacted Greymoor,” Theresa commented as they appeared among the warrior-wizards.

“Good to see all of you,” Watcher Hill said, walking to them. “Professor Jules, I must apologise. I imagine you’ve already been informed of the developments here?”

“Yes,” Jules sighed as she walked toward the portal.

Watcher Hill lowered her head. “Allowing this to happen is a blemish on our record. To say it was unacceptable is an understatement and we should've done better. It should never have been allowed to happen.”

“We're all doing our best, Watcher Hill,” Professor Jules continued. “Your Warriors laid down their lives to stop those items from being taken. No one can ask for any more than that.”

“Understood,” the Watcher commander said. “We've fortified the area, and  requested reinforcements from Generasi for both Greymoor and this area since it has been compromised.” She paused, looking at Alex. “Welcome back, by the way.”

“Thanks,” Alex said. “I just wish we were meeting under better circumstances.”

It was Watcher Hill who looked exhausted now. “I agree. These have been trying times for all of us.”

“We'll get through it,” Alex said in earnest. “The worst might be coming, I don't know, but we’ve survived a lot up to now, and I'm not planning on letting that change anytime soon.”

“We have some information to take a look at, Watcher Hill, I think you might want to come with us,” Professor Jules said. “It’s information from some found records of Uldar’s that Mr. Roth discovered. They should be helpful.”

The Watcher commander paused. “Alright. I'll inform my lieutenant as to where I’ll be, then I’ll be with you.”

“Perfect,” Alex said, then paused. “Actually, if everyone doesn’t mind heading upstairs without me, I have to teleport to Greymoor for a moment.”

“Is there something you have to do?” Theresa asked.

“Yeah, get some chairs,” he said. “Doesn't make sense for all of you to be sitting on the floor again.”

###

“I just want to warn everyone right now that Uldar is really long-winded,” Alex said as he sat in the god’s overstuffed chair. “The controls let me speed through some of his words, and I can reverse them in case we miss something, but a lot of this is just going to be sitting and letting him spew his story at us.”

“It will not be the first time I have sat through a stuffy lecture, so to speak,” Isolde said, looking quite relaxed beside Cedric. “It is not a problem for me.”

“It feels strange,” Merzhin said, his chair a little apart from the others. “This time last year, I would've been in complete ecstasy at the thought of hearing Uldar’s words. To see his image, would've made me faint from emotion. Now, though…I almost dread it.”

“Are you sure you wanna be here for this?” Alex asked him. “I mean, if you can't, you can't. We could just tell you what he said after we're done.”

The small man's eyes turned hard. “No. I think I need this, even if it will be like swallowing vile medicine.”

“Well, if you need to step out, just tell me,” Alex said, then looked to the others. The room was much fuller now. “Anyone have any questions?”

“Yeah,” Hart said. “If Uldar takes a long time, that's gonna be a problem: it’ll be rough on the soldiers and priests if we're gone for very long.”

Alex grinned at that. “I left Asmaldestre with them. Trust me, she may not be able to heal wounds and cast spells, but after a bit of time with her, the Ravener-spawn’ll be begging for all of you to come back.”

“Your army might be too,” Birger added.

“Fair enough,” Hart said. “Alright then, let's see what this blowhard has to say.”

With that, Alex reactivated the controls in the chair.

The images of Thameland all around the viewing room disappeared and Uldar’s image re-appeared—still looking sickly—as Alex advanced the journal to where they’d left off.

“By the Traveller!” Cedric swore. “So that's what he looked like…when he was livin’...”

“He looks awful,” Drestra said. “He almost looks dead.”

“That wound at his side looks bad, like it’s oozing a lot,” Hart said.

Merzhin choked back a low sob, but showed no sign of needing to leave the room.

“Alright, let's start again,” Alex started the recording.

Uldar ground his teeth, then touched his side. “…and I still would be—personally—were it not for that damned demon lord.” Suddenly, the god looked very weary. “I tire. I shall continue this later.”

Uldar disappeared, and Alex went to the next entry.

When the god reappeared on the windows before them, everyone—except Grimloch—gasped. He looked far worse than he had in his last entry. His skin was grey, his body much thinner, and the wound on his side had stained much of his robes, black.

He was shivering, and his eyes were haunted, the skin around them looked bruised.

When he spoke, his voice was weak.

“Living journal, entry eighty-five. It’s been some time since I've been able to continue this record to myself. The poison burns my body badly as of late, and my health diminishes far more than usual. I must speak to Aenflynn about more solutions…but my mind has been growing more foggy. Days that I am clear grow fleeting. Fortunately, the next cycle is near. The next link in the chain is forming.”

Theresa and Alex looked at each other, but said nothing. No one wanted the recording to stop.

“I had hoped to rest, but my mind turns on itself with bitterness. This journal has done much to keep me sane over the last…the last…I do not know how long I've been recording it now.” He looked disturbed at this. “But I must try. I must admit that my reluctance to record this entry is due to reliving the pain. The pain of my fall.”

He took a deep breath.

“I remember the day clearly at this moment. Aenflynn and I had been working together for some time, my people were growing in both knowledge and might, and I had just achieved a great victory over a terrible sea serpent that had plagued our coasts.” His lip twitched. “Those were good times. We celebrated often, then. Both Thameland and Och Tir Nog were in times of plenty. Yet our enemies plotted against us, and they would strike in a way that we had not anticipated.”

His face grew stern. “I have often wondered if things would have been different had I not spent the centuries I did helping Aenflynn directly. Not only was I sending children to him to swell his armies, but there were a great many battles where I personally led my honour guard at his side. Together, we were able to shatter the armies of his enemies. Unfortunately…”

His hands clenched into trembling fists. “Those enemies had noted my assistance in Aenflynn’s battles and had decided to take a two-pronged approach. With the help of an archwizard, they conjured a demon lord of poisons from one of the deepest pits of the hells. Even I cannot fathom the sheer amount of power they must have used to accomplish such a feat, nor do I have such an evil mind to comprehend the processes that were used to change the creature.”

His thin lips became a flat line. “What I do know about is the amount of chaos that resulted when they unleashed the beast upon my people. While they attacked Och Tir Nog with their armies, their mutant-demon slave attacked Thameland. The suffering that resulted was unimaginable. Already, the demon lord had been a creature of venoms and poisons, but the enemy fae had altered its form to enhance those properties. Wherever it went, our land was polluted. Mortals and beasts alike died from its venom; those that did not, were prey to the monsters it would shed from its form, just as a hound would shake off fleas.”

He snarled. “Naturally, I could not abide this. In the span of days, my people were reduced to a fraction of their number. So I challenged this demon single-handedly…this creature called—”

Alex and Theresa spoke the word at the same time as Uldar did.

“—The Ravener.”

The god continued. “We fought for thirty days without end. It was the most terrible yet wonderful battle I had ever fought. In many ways, the creature made me feel alive in ways I had long forgotten. I had no longer known the fear of having one's life on the line…the rush of victory snatched from the jaws of death. And victory I did achieve. In my hands, I broke the beast, smiting it to its ruin. Then—in the throes of wrath—I crossed into the fae wild and slew the armies besieging Och Tir Nog. The kingdoms around Aenflynn’s died in a span of days.”

Uldar’s expression grew sad then, and he touched the wound on his side. “But our victory came at a terrible cost. Though Aenflynn’s enemies were wiped out, much of his population had also been devastated. Decimated! Beyond decimated! Where he had once ruled a kingdom, now he had only a fraction of his people to rule. Enough to fill a village…perhaps a town.”

The god’s shoulders slumped. “And I would soon know that pain well myself. When I returned to the material world, I found that the monsters the Ravener had shed had gutted my kingdom. The civilization that I had worked for thousands of years to build, was all but destroyed. Peaceful people—isolated from the world outside—growing into the finest form of themselves, most were wiped away because of the machinations and poisonous nature of a few evil minds. Many of the sages amongst my people were lost. So much knowledge! So much artistry! So much inspiration!”

His voice swelled. “All gone! I had failed them. I had failed my people. And it was up to me to rebuild…but, of course, I failed to understand the true deviltry that had befallen me.”

He touched his wound again, his hand coming away wet. “In the last throes of the Ravener’s life, it had struck me with a poisonous tentacle that pierced my side, injecting me with its deepest, most deadliest of venoms. At the time, I had feared it little: I was well into my godhood, then, and knew of no poisons that could bring a god low. We can recover, and live beyond most traumas. Sickness cannot bring us low…we have no need to fear hunger and thirst.”

Uldar shook a finger at himself. “But this poison had putrefied in the body of a demon lord! A demon lord that had been enhanced through fae magics! Why did I not know that then? I would not have allowed it to fester.” He shook his head. “When I cure this, never again will I be so foolish. I stood, so very focused on rebuilding my kingdom with my people—reteaching them the knowledge they had lost—I hardly paid attention to the fact that all of my wounds from the battle had long healed by my inherent divine energies.”

He jammed a finger into his injury, wincing with pain. “All except this one, where the beast had stung me and tore me open! For a time, it seemed to be healing, just as the others had. I felt no need to treat it beyond using my divinity. I assumed that due to the wound’s severity, it would eventually heal, but would take time to do so. Instead, it festered. Most signs of it had faded from my skin, but within me, the poison was slowly rotting my insides like carrion. I had no warning, as I had no pain, until one day, my side ruptured, spewing out the black corruption within me. I called on my most powerful divinities, but nothing stopped the poisons.”

Uldar grimaced. “It was only then that I knew that if I did not seek outside aid, I would die. So I hid the wound from my people, and went to Aenflynn…the injury was beyond the skill of either him or his healers…especially since he too had suffered great losses in the war, and most of his sages had been killed. I knew that if I sought help from outside Thameland, every deity, fae lord, wizard or tyrant would see my realm as ripe for the taking. I also needed to not be seen as weak before my people. And so I made a costly decision.”

He clenched his teeth. “I retreated from the material world, coming to my sanctum where I could focus my divinity, continuing my ascension to higher realms of deific power. When I came more into my godhood, I thought that the poison would simply burn away. I ascended from what was once my home in the material world, trusting it to a secret order of the church. They would be the stewards of my material home, the only ones who knew from where I had ascended, and the ambassadors between myself and my people. They did not know that I was wounded…I had no reason to tell them: I had thought that healing the venom would only take the passing of a few moons…but that short amount of time, actually turned to years. Those years, to decades. Thanks to my growing understanding of my own essence—and different tonics that Aenflynn would bring me—my health stabilised. Meanwhile, both Och Tir Nog and Thameland were healing. The populations were growing—though more slowly in the fae kingdom. They began to rediscover knowledge that had been lost…though some things were forever forgotten. Yet, they prospered.”

He closed his eyes for a long moment. “I was happy. I thought that in peace, I would recover, and then rejoin my people. That was when my wound began to worsen. The poison coursed through my body, stealing my strength, and the rot spread further. At first, I did not know what was happening. I thought that perhaps I had underestimated the venom, or that some tonic my friend had given me had worsened it somehow. I wish to this day that it was that simple. If it were, my people would have suffered far less.”

The god swallowed, tears springing to his eyes. “I discovered that my body was able to fight the poison off less effectively, because my divinity was diminishing…less faith was coming to me from my people. By that point, I had been away from Thameland for centuries…and my children, who I had raised for thousands of years…had begun to forget me.”

Author's Note

Hello thirty-nine cool fools, almighty chosen, wise sages, and mighty champions! Thank you for your support!


Guess who's back? Back again? Exposition's back! Tell a friend! But yeah it's nice to tell some more of what happened in the past.

ALSO Fool 6 got to rank 40 yesterday! New record! It's nice to see the series spreading...like a virus.

Awesome stuff. :) Cya tomorrow!