Demon Lord III - Grey God (28 page)

Bashir forced
a sickly smile. "Of course, My Lord, it is just that we find them
more formidable than demons, but you, naturally, would not. A blue
mage could fight a demon and exhaust it, send it below, but we
cannot prevail against a black mage."

"That is
because demons do not use the dark power as a weapon. They are
elementals, although they do contain dark power."

Bashir looked
intrigued. "But surely they are condemned spirits who have gathered
the power to make themselves demons?"

"No. Demons
have no souls. They are the children of the dark power, created by
it."

"How? The dark
power can only destroy."

"They are not
alive. The dark power cannot create a living thing, but it creates
demons the same way that whirlwinds and thunderstorms form in your
world. A pocket of dark power forms, becomes dense, then animate.
It gathers the element in which it finds itself, and a demon is
born. At first it is tiny, and it takes many hundreds of years for
it to become large and sentient, and a few more decades to learn
how to speak and use its power to form a human disguise."

Bashir looked
awestruck. "Thank you for explaining that, My Lord. If Kimera or I
survive this war, we will set this knowledge down for all to know
and wonder at. It will be noted that this was a gift from you."

Bane snorted.
"Do as you wish. It merely served to pass the time. But enough has
passed, I think."

The Demon Lord
made himself invisible, and Kimera moved closer to Bashir, slipping
her arm through his. "We should combine our power; we can form a
stronger shield that way."

He nodded,
patting her hand. "Yes, we should do that."

Bane watched
them cling together like lost children in a dark forest with a pack
of wolves howling close by. His explanation of how demons came to
be made him ponder the origins of the seven light gods who had
risen from the cosmic dust eons ago. They must have formed the same
way, only from light power instead of dark, and, since they had
formed in the inanimate matter that had existed then, they
contained all the elements, as all living things did.

That was
because the Grey Gods had created all living things, once Kayos had
set the matter into motion and created chaos. It must have taken
millennia for them to become sentient in the cold emptiness of the
Before Time, and eons more to become self-aware. What had they
looked like? Formless blobs of energy and matter, floating
aimlessly about, slowly gathering more matter and energy, growing
in stature and intellect? How had they chosen their shape and
size?

Had they
perfected it over the eons, forming that which they needed when
they found a need for it? Legs to walk when ground became
available, hands to touch when the urge took them, eyes to see and
a mouth to speak, when finally two had met. That seemed logical.
Kayos' memory started at the point when he had become self-aware,
so what had gone before would always remain a mystery.

Were they grey
because the matter from which they had formed was grey? He was
certain that they had no blood, but nor were their bodies pseudo
flesh like a dark god's shell. They were more like demons, but made
up of all four elements instead of only one. The same elements that
Ordur had separated out of the chaos, helped by the other five
gods. He decided to ask Kayos the next time they were not busy.

Bane sensed
the faint surge of dark power that heralded the arrival of the
warlocks, and turned. Five black-clad figures shimmered into being,
and doubled over as they retched from the aftermath of the Move.
They looked ill, as black mages always did, a penalty for using the
dark power. They wore well cut tunics and snug fitting trousers
much like the younger members of this society, but their gold
chains and jewelled rings revealed their vanity.

Two were old,
their handsome faces leathery and weather-beaten, their grey hair
tied back with leather thongs. All five possessed the refined
features that the dark power bestowed, nasty expressions of snide
gloating marring them as they straightened to face their quarry.
Two of the younger mages had sandy hair and brown eyes, and had
probably been downright ugly before they had taken up the dark
power. The third possessed sharp features and slanted green eyes in
a narrow visage framed by short, dark brown hair. Bane wandered
closer as one of the older warlocks sniggered and gestured at the
blue mages.

"What fools
you are," he sneered. "Just a few weeks ago we killed one of you
here, and yet you return."

"Like lambs to
the slaughter," the dark-haired youth jeered. "Or perhaps they
think themselves powerful enough to take us on, Ravid?"

Ravid spat.
"Then they must be senile, Daryn, or they want to die before their
world. Which is it, old man?"

Bashir put his
arm around Kimera's shoulders and held her close. "I would say that
you are about to find out."

Daryn laughed
and raised his hands, starting to Gather. It had no visible effect
on the shadows around him, but Bane sensed the dark power flowing
into him. These mages were more powerful than the ones he had met
in the Overworld, but were still puny. Their flesh could not
contain much dark power. It sickened them, and leaked out
constantly, since they did not have the ability to store it. They
had to Gather it each time they wished to use it, and the amounts
they were capable of using were small.

To him they
were pathetic, but to the blue mages they were deadly. Bane now
stood behind the two older mages, whom he had decided would be the
first to die, since they were sure to be the most powerful of the
five. All of them had started to Gather, muttering strange words
under their breath to aid their concentration. Bashir pulled Kimera
into his arms, and a shimmering blue shield sprang up around them.
Ravid laughed.

"That will not
do you much good, old man. Better start praying, although that will
do you even less good, since your pathetic goddess is our
slave."

Bane placed
his hands on the older warlocks' heads and sent twin surges of dark
power coursing into them, far more than their flesh could
withstand. They gave short, choked screams as their skin blackened
and crisped, then they exploded in a shower of guts and gore that
splattered their companions, their torn bodies collapsing onto the
bloody grass. The remaining warlocks turned to gape at the
eviscerated bodies of their former mentors, a look of stunned
disbelief on their faces.

The
dark-haired youth cursed and raised his hands to form a black
shield before him. The other two looked irresolute, then one
muttered some strange words and gestured. Bane sent a bolt of black
power at him before he Moved, and he leapt into the air with a
shriek as it struck him. He collapsed, curling into a writhing
ball, moaning with pain. The other mage followed Daryn's example
and made a shield, retreating towards the fire wall.

Bane became
visible, his cloak swirling around him, animated by the surge of
dark power he released, letting it flow from his hands in falls of
shadow. The warlocks' eyes widened in horror and dismay, and they
turned their shields towards him. A smile curled Bane's lips as the
colour drained from their pallid faces, the dark power within him
rejoicing at their fear.

"Do not bother
sending a prayer to Vorkon," he said. "He will not come. He has no
wish to face me again."

Daryn's mouth
worked before he could form words. "You are... you are a..."

"Dark god.
Yes, I know."

"Then why did
you...?" Daryn's eyes flicked to the two corpses.

"I dislike
black mages. They annoy me, always have. Besides, I am on their
side." He nodded at the blue mages.

"Why?" the
second black mage demanded.

Bane shrugged.
"I choose to be."

"You are going
to kill us," Daryn muttered, his breath coming in short gasps.

"Yes."

"Then why do
you toy with us?"

"You should
know the answer to that question, boy. The dark power enjoys it,
and therefore, so do I."

"Then you are
evil."

Bane smiled
again. "Worse than you, I suspect."

"I will fight
you."

The Demon Lord
laughed. "Good for you! A little entertainment will brighten my
day. So far it has been rather drab."

Bashir
released Kimera and stepped forward. "My Lord, they could be saved,
cleansed in the temple."

Bane shot him
a scathing glance. "They were going to kill you."

"That does not
mean we must act the same way. They are influenced by the dark
power. They are young, they can be reformed."

Daryn spat.
"Never, you doddering fool!"

Bane chuckled.
"This one thinks he can beat me. He has courage, I will give him
that." Daryn swelled with pride, and Bane's smile vanished. "And he
basks in my praise like a lizard in the sun. Pathetic."

The youth's
face hardened, hiding the pain that Bane's scathing words brought,
and his green eyes glinted. "You killed the older mages because you
thought them the most powerful, but you are wrong. I am the most
powerful, and I will not be so easy to kill."

"To me, it
will be like swatting a fly." Bane raised a hand, and the
sandy-haired mage cringed, but Daryn lifted his chin.

"Strike then.
I am not afraid to die."

Bashir raised
his hands. "He could become a blue mage."

"Never!" Daryn
snarled.

"Why would you
want one such as he?" Bane inquired.

"We need all
the help we can get."

"I will
reform," the sandy-haired youth cried, and Daryn swung on him, his
handsome features twisted in an ugly scowl.

"You coward!
Vorkon will rip out your heart and feed it to you."

"You see?"
Bashir spread his hands. "It is their fear of Vorkon that holds
them to the dark path."

Bane eyed the
young warlocks. "Perhaps, but they chose it."

"In
ignorance."

"No," Daryn
growled. "I wanted it."

Bane shook his
head. "They are corrupted, beyond your aid. Their souls belong to
Vorkon, and will be his playthings after they are dead."

"They can be
redeemed, as, I suspect, you once were. Once cleansed of the dark
power, our lady can reclaim their souls."

The
sandy-haired youth released his shield and fell to his knees. "I
will be cleansed! Spare me, I beg you!"

Daryn glared
at him. "Rigar, you spineless worm! Stand up and fight!"

"He is
willing." Bashir looked pleased.

Bane studied
the sandy-haired youth, sensing deception in his words. "He is
lying."

Rigar swung
and flung a bolt at Bashir. Bane gestured, and a black wall shot up
between them, absorbing the power before it could strike the blue
mage. Bashir stumbled back with a cry, raising his hands. He
tripped and sat down with a grunt, his expression a mixture of
chagrin, anger and fear. Kimera rushed to his side and helped him
up, brushing at his clothes until he stopped her with a meaningful
look. Bane frowned at Rigar, who cringed, and Daryn cast him a
half-apologetic, half-admiring look. Rigar climbed to his feet,
eyeing Bane.

"Enough of
this," Bane said. "I weary of it."

As he raised
his hands, Daryn growled and charged him, yanking a dagger from his
belt. Rigar flung himself sideways, clad himself in shields and
hurled a bolt at Kimera, who screamed and dropped. Bane flung twin
bolts with a languid gesture of his hands. One struck Rigar's
shields and sent him rolling with a scream, the other hit Daryn.
The young mage howled as the dark power engulfed him, his shields
unable to absorb it all, and it scorched his skin. He flung himself
at Bane, his dagger cutting the air where the Demon Lord had been
an instant before, but Bane was already out of reach.

Bashir leapt
to Kimera's aid, crouched over her and added his shields to hers,
forming a blue dome in which they sheltered. Daryn howled with rage
and pain, his skin reddening as Bane's power burnt through his
shields. He fell writhing, clawing at the air and biting his lips
as his skin blackened and crisped, his hair igniting in a fiery
halo. His shields collapsed, and he exploded with a sickening thud,
his screams cut off in mid-shriek, his blood spattering Bane.

Rigar
scrambled to his feet, released his shields, and tried to Move.
Bane directed a lash of shadow at him, and he collapsed with a
choked cry, writhed, then lay still. In the deathly hush that
followed, Bane turned to look at the blue mages huddled beneath
their shield. It vanished, and Bashir sat up, holding a trembling
Kimera close, her face hidden in his shoulder. The blue mage
glanced at the still groaning black mage who had tried to flee
earlier on.

"What about
him?"

Bane shrugged.
"He is dying."

Bashir averted
his eyes from the mutilated corpses of the other four and helped
Kimera to her feet, guided her to a seat and sat beside her, his
arm around her shoulders. His face was grey with shock as he looked
up at Bane.

"Could you
explain what happened? Why some died more quickly than others?"

"Why?"

"Just curious.
Kimera needs a moment to recover."

Bane glanced
at the bodies. "The first two were not expecting an attack, so I
was able to touch them, and they had no shields." He nodded at the
groaning mage. "That one tried to Move, and also had no shields,
but I did not use enough power to kill him outright. Daryn had
shields, so it took a little longer to kill him, and Rigar had to
drop his to Move. I could have killed Daryn quickly had I wished
it, but he was arrogant, and a slow death was his punishment."

Bashir nodded,
looking sick. "A horrible business. I had really hoped that they
could be saved, like you were. I am right, not so, My Lord?"