The End of One World…

All will rise or all will fall
Six will arise to heed the call
Together they stand, divided they die
Six will come to answer the cry
One as six and six as One
Unlimited power, bound by none…
----The Essences of Concord, a prophecy

Ash took a step back, one hand clasping his rune-engraved staff, the other around his arm in the attempt to cover his wound. Flesh blood soaked the Mage’s blue robes, staining them red. Before him was Prince Ramth Sethiop, his comrade, friend, and the leader of their party. In his right hand he held a giant dark obsidian blade, 3 and 1/2 feet long and 6 inches across at the broadest point. The blade was wet with blood, Ash’s blood.

The ancestral Sethipian Blade that was normally welded by the Prince had found itself in the center of a young cleric’s chest, her fair face contorted in pain and surprise, white gown painted red by her blood. Next to her was the headless body of an Elf druid, blood still flowing out of the neck. Several feet away laid an Elf ranger, her bow broken and arm missing. Her remaining arm clutched a battle axe, whose owner laid a broken mess at the bottom of the mountain, debunking all claims that it was impossible to break the bones of a Dwarf.

“You’re going to make this difficult, aren’t you Ash?”

Ramth’s voice was calm, like the eye of a storm. He took a step forward, his boot kicking up soot, blade swinging menacingly. His face betrayed no emotion, just perfect calm and peace. That peace frightened Ash, chilled his very soul. As Ramth stepped forward, Ash stepped back, tightening his grip on his staff. The ground shook as the volcano slowly grew more active; Cerfuli of the Chaos and Despair was reawakening, the Demon’s own sword held by the descendant of those who had ended his reign of terror in the first place.

The name of the weapon had long been forgotten but even the most inept mage could tell its powers did not come from this world. Ash could see, even feel, the dark aura flowing out of the blade. Where the sword had cut him, Ash could feel the same darkness, his other senses numbing and despair and hopeless filled his spirit. More alarming, however, was that the same evil air surrounding the blade was also being produced by Ramth.

“It would have been best if you had died by a single cut, my friend,” Ramth said as if he was speaking about the weather. Ash was not so calm.

“What have done? Cerfuli will arise any moment! The Essences---“

“Are here.”

Ramth lifted his left hand, clutching to five pieces of string, four of which were, until recently, worn around the necks of his companions. Attached to each of the strings was a bright crystal, each of a different color: red, magenta, yellow, blue, and green. The sixth and final crystal dangled from Ash’s neck.

Ash held the staff with both hands, his wound no longer his greatest concern. He knew Ramth was wearing enchanted armor, given to him as a gift from his father the king. No simple fire ball or lightning bolt would harm him. A more powerful spell like Firestorm or Frostbite could work but such spells required time and concentration. Ash needed to stall.

Ramth saw Ash’s change in stance and let a sad smile creep up his face.

“Ramth, answer me: why are you doing this?”

“Is that a last request?” Ramth asked, mockingly. Ash remained silent. Ramth let out a sigh.

“Simple: power.”

“Care to elaborate?”

Ramth broke into a dark and heavy laugh. “Why? Confused are we.”

“If you’re looking power, you already have it. As son of the king---“

“I am just one of five, two of which are ahead of me in succession.” Bitterness filled Ramth voice. Ash almost lost concentration in surprise. Though Ramth always spoke of wanting to take the throne, he never had held any anger toward his older brothers.

“I fail to see how killing all of us fixes your problem.”

“It appears I do need to do some explaining,” Ramth said with a sigh. “Very well; I will take the Essences and the Dark One’s own weapon and destroy Cerfuli. With Cerfuli’s blade, I will gain control over his armies of darkness. With Cerfuli’s blade, the Essences of Concord, and legions of Demons, none will stop me. Not Elves, not the Dwarves, and certainly not the king of Man. The Alliance will fall and the era of Ramth Sethiop will begin.”

“I still fail to see how killing all of us plays into your plans.”

“Collateral.”

“Excuse me?”

“I doubt any of you would follow my plans, despite our time together. You would have tried to stop me and would have succeeded. You had to be removed.”

“That’s it? We’ve been on this journey for over a year! You’ve known Dorian and I since we were children! You confessed to Matilda when you were sixteen! And you throw that all away simply because we’re threats to your mad plan?”

“Yes.”

Ash struggled to hold his concentration but his anger was making it difficult. “We’ve been together all are lives! We and Dorian were practically brothers! For God sake, Matilda loved you! Even the Elves were willing to die for the rest of us, for you! Didn’t any of our adventure together mean anything to you?”

“No.”

“For God sake, let go of that cursed blade! It’s clouding your judgment!”

“My mind has never been clearer,” Ramth snarled, his face contorting with emotion for the first time. “For the first time in my life, I can do what I want, what I’ve dreamed.” A twist smile grew across his face. “Perhaps it is your judgment that is clouded. Has the death of the lover you could never win unhinged you?”

Ash snapped. With a mighty roar he swung his staff, summoning a sea of flames and directing them at the fallen prince. The flames surrounded Ramth, obstructing Ash’s sight. The mage kept the spell on even as he felt his reserves leave him. When Ash finally released the spell, smoke and ash filled the air.

“For…Matil...da,’ coughed Ash between pants. He leaned on his staff as he struggled to collect his breath.

The smoke prevented him from seeing the dark blade strike.

Ash blinked once then coughed up blood. The blade went through his stomach, his robes providing little protection. Ramth stood before him, as calm as ever, his armor burnt and blackened but without any sign of bodily harm. With a stretched arm, Ramth extended out to the limp body of his former friend.

“It is done,” Ramth said softly as he reached for the purple crystal that dangled from Ash’s neck, only to hiss in surprise.

Ash’s hand seized the crystal, his eyes burning fiery white. The crystal turned a similar color as did the others, which burned against Ramth grip. In surprise and pain, Ramth dropped the Essences, which began to float and revolve around Ash, his face filled with rage. With his free hand, Ash grab Ramth’s collar and for the first time, Ramth was afraid.

“Long live the King.”

A flash blinded the prince, who fell back, losing his hold on Cerfuli’s sword. When his sight had returned, Ramth could not find Ash, Cerfuli’s blade, or the Essences. All had vanished. The prince fell to his knees, roaring in frustrating. A mightier roar answered from the top of the mountain as the volcano became fully active.

The Dark One, Cerfuli of Chaos and Despair, had awoken.