Chapter 3: Treacherous Power

Thogmar is finally challenged by the Order. It does not end well for him...or for them.

CHAPTER 3: TREACHEROUS POWER

The role and position of the Hierophant is to sit neutrally in all affairs, to judge righteously based upon the old moral code and not that of the gods, and to preserve the Perdu Arcana from tainting. The Hierophant and his Order shall pledge no allegiance to any particular god, but to serve them all insomuch as power is not added upon power.

-The collected journals of Waylor San Tribadon

 

     A rush of commotion broke out amongst the Order again. They mumbled back and forth; none could believe what they had heard. A grin surfaced on Thogmar’s ivory face with the incessant chattering: chaos. He had them where he wanted. With smug surety, he sheathed his sword.

     The Hierophant raised his bony arm in the air, fingers spread out in a span. His face bore a look of disgust as if he wanted this horrid day to end. The rest of the Order settled down upon seeing the Hierophant’s calm gesture for silence. Sitting up in his lush chair, Arimus glared down at Thogmar who stood unmoving under the baleful gaze.

Hours seemed to pass in the silence.

     “You have not only brought our anger down upon you,” the Hierophant announced seconds later, “but you have now brought the wrath of the gods down upon you. You may have the power to challenge our authority, surely, but I don’t think you have the power to even challenge one of the gods.”

      He paused to consider what to say next. Then fear settled in his eyes; a fear that even Thogmar had never seen in the Hierophant’s eyes before.

“If you challenge a god, we are all dead. The Final Theomachy will come, and Regent will be plunged into war.”

     Thogmar bowed his head with sorrow. The Order of Waylor, the ones he thought understood the threat the gods had brought to their world, did not even understand the dire circumstance they had plunged into.

     “Surely you can recollect the records of Regent before the incarnation of the gods. There was continual peace and unity amongst all. Now there is bickering and senseless holy wars. Over what? Whose side to fight on? Why must we fight the gods’ wars? If they need us to fight for them, then maybe they are not as powerful as all hold them to be.”

      This time the subtle gasps and whispers amplified into shouts and ranting.

     “Blasphemy!” Galvarium shouted.

     “Your tirades started as mere amusement,” the Hierophant said. “But, I’ve heard enough.”

     A sneer streaked across Arimus’ cracked face, and before Thogmar expected anything more, a wavering shadow, twice the size of Thogmar, streaked from out of the air before him. The ethereal force crashed into him, sending him sailing down through the corridor of columns, crushing him against the far doors with such force that the old, dried stucco from the ceiling fell to the floor like snow. A few in the order gasped in shock at the grizzly spectacle.

     With a hiss, the Hierophant glided down off the dais as a lithe youth. He shifted in an instant and with sorcerous blades of pure energy streaking out of his skeletal fingers, stood before the coughing Kalgathian.

     “You will not defy me before this Order!” Arimus shouted with seething anger. “I have ruled and lived long enough to command your respect!” He hunched up, appearing as a leathery serpent prepared to attack.

     “Yes, you have lived long and age wears on you well,” Thogmar said with pity in his voice. “Fear not, for I will challenge you no further. If you do not have the power to destroy me then I will take my leave now. Others wiser will listen.”

     He picked himself up from the floor, brushing the flakes of white from off his robes, and turned to face the doors.

     “You will be dead!” The Hierophant roared. He crossed his hands together, spreading his malicious digits and thrust them apart, causing sparks of pure energy to crackle and echo off the walls. He inhaled deeply, summoning all his strength, and spoke an arcane word of long ago. Throwing his hands toward the retreating Kalgathian, the ten shards of energy streaked from his fingers. All but one harmlessly deflected off Thogmar’s sorcerous barrier. The power and will behind the Hierophant’s sorcery caused the final shard to break through Thogmar’s defenses.

     The mighty sorcerer fell, bleeding.

     The Hierophant leaped on him, electricity arcing between his fingers. “I will not be defied!” he snarled and drove the shards of energy for Thogmar’s head.

     Sweating with fear, Thogmar reached for the Empyrium with his thoughts, igniting his own sorcerous energy that coursed around him and in the same moment, blew a breath of air, knocking Arimus off as a feather in a gale.

     The force sent the Hierophant spinning along the floor back toward the council. Wincing, Thogmar stood; the blood flowed freely from the wound in his back. He had no time to think about it. With a lightning step, he stood over the Hierophant.

Thogmar noticed Troas absent from his position. He had anticipated that and with a word and a gesture had the Blade bearing down on him immobilized.

     Looking up, he eyed the council wearily. Galvarium grinned behind the arcing lightning whining around his form, and with malevolent delight ordered the conclave to destroy Thogmar, knowing that it was difficult for one, but combined they could wield more power than any force on Regent. With his armor compromised, Thogmar knew he did not stand a chance of survival against the Order united.

     Thogmar drew his sword and in less than a heartbeat positioned himself behind the Hierophant who was regaining his feet. Clasping a left hand over Arimus’ mouth and holding the sword across his stomach, Thogmar demanded his freedom for the life of the Hierophant. The surge of energy continued to build, pulsing greater than what sparked around the two sorcerers. Wielders of the Perdu Arcana had such accuracy that it eliminated the hostage option, and Thogmar knew it.

     The Reds clamored down the corridor of pillars, swords at the ready and steel arms reaching out to grab him. He had to act and act fast.

     “I have the Word of Doom on my lips,” Thogmar shouted above the humming surge of energy, cringing back the piercing pain in his back. It would soon be his undoing.

     If he could only keep his sorcerous energy flowing through him, they would believe his bluff of the Word of Doom, for none but a sorcerer wielding the Perdu Arcana could conjure it forth, if it actually did exist.

    “I know it,” Thogmar shouted, trying to conceal his nervous guilt. “You all know of my past research into the Nax Arcana. The Word of Doom is real, as the gods are real, I assure you. All I need to do is breathe it, and not only Arimus but all of you close enough will be banished to the Nocturne. If I am to die this day, so shall you.”

     The buzzing of power radiating from the Order died down, and the once mighty Hierophant’s eyes bulged with panic from Thogmar’s words. The Reds stopped in their tracks, ashen with fear. A few even took a few weary steps back.

     Arimus broke his head out of the handhold over his mouth, cocked it toward Thogmar’s ear, and whispered, “If you think you have proven anything this day, you are misled. You will not leave this room ali . . .”

     To Thogmar’s shock, Arimus gasped in pain. “Murder!” the Hierophant hollered. “Treacherous fiend!”

     Thogmar glanced down and almost gave into his revolting stomach. Arimus’ gold robes blackened with blood flowing from his abdomen. Gasps undulated through the chamber like a wave, flooding Thogmar’s ears. He fell to the ground with the Hierophant, shooting confused glances at his sword now stained with the blood gushing out of Arimus’ stomach wound. He never moved, not enough to cause this wound. Something was amiss.

     Feeling the rush of power surge through the air again, Thogmar knew he was doomed. Jumping up, he thrust his arms in the air and with a word, a portal dropped out of them. He stepped into the void and turned back.

      Hatred filled his soul, for the image still haunted his mind’s eye as the portal closed and sealed him in darkness--the sight of Galvarium grinning as if he had gained the world, and not lost the leader of it.