[Sedna]

Esclave

There can no longer be any doubt, except among blind fools such as Muszinger, that Aftial (Afti-el as she now styles herself) has fallen from God. Whether she entered this world pure and was corrupted by the evil herein, or whether she came here well-meaning to bring ruin and death to it, the end result is the same. My love, the bright lady of the morning, is now the dark ruler of a darkening land, swiftly ushering in twilight with her blood-stained hand. She appears now more brilliant and white than ever before, but her crown is a pile of skulls and she shimmers in daylight as one of the damned.

And what or our son? No-one can tell me where the child is held, and so I remain here, surrounded by my useless books and meaningless trinkets. I watch, while outside my window storm clouds gather on the Mountains of Madness. I sit, while the world rushes to its awful close.

Gawain

At night, the fortress at Iron Range seemed to cling to the sheer cliffs that hung above the Black Gorge. Small dark forms circled around a lonely light in the highest tower, the only sign there might be life. Around him, Gawain's men chattered and shivered in the cold air, but Gawain was warm.

"All right, listen up knights. We've been waiting for Wic and his part of the army for five..."

"Three, sir."

"Three days, and we will wait no longer. There's no reason to think Vanheim left anything other than a token defense here. The harbor is deserted. No doubt all those who could have slipped away over the waves, leaving on the weak and lame to fight the legendary knights of Marignon!"

His men gave a half-hearted cheer. It had been a long time since they had enjoyed a real fight. Too much patrolling wasn't good for knights.

They swept down the mountain at full gallop, glittering in the moonlight -- over the high narrow drawbridge, then into the deserted cobblestone streets of the fort. There was no sign of life except for the occasional bat. Gawain and his men dismounted and searched on foot. Indeed, everything was gone, even the laboratory had been burnt down. A faint smell of smoke from somewhere... Gawain followed his nose to the sea-ward courtyard, where a solitary red-robed figure stood staring out across the gorge to the twinkling lights of Vanheim beyond.

"Turn and fight like a man, dog!"

And the man turned, and as he did, Gawain's eyes snapped shut from the blinding light, and then he was engulfed in flames, but unburnt. When he could see again, he stared down at the charred Van on the ground just behind him. When he could hear again, he found that the red-robed man was laughing at him, and sipping calmly from a flask.

"Blood-sucker," Gawain murmured.

"Mmmm," said Wic, "Do you want some? Marvelously good for the stamina. Why, if you were in the habit of drinking blood you might have gotten here in time to have some fun with old Neinos there." He gestured to the still-smoking corpse.

Gawain caught the tossed flask, and a few red drops of liquid spilled out onto his freshly shined armor. He threw the container to the ground.

"Monster! Heretic!"

"Oh relax, it's just tomato juice. Now listen, have you sent Brother Gebuin to the Vans to make peace now that we've secured this place?"

"To the Vans? No, you told me to send him with peace messages to the crawling heretics."

"Yes, the... oh..."

"I sent him to the lizards."

For a moment, wrath clouded Wic's face, then it passed.

"My mistake, there are too many heretics. Ah well, the egg-suckers will be confused. Anyway, put this place in order, leave a guard and ride east as soon as you can. More wars, more glory await."

"My knights will o'ertake you in a week."

"Ah, but you forget your legends, Gawain." Wic jumped up onto the low wall, "Vampires can fly." Then he was gone.

Gawain ran to the edge and watched the dark spot falling, falling to the depths bellow. At the last minute Wic's cloak billowed and spread and he soared out over the water and away into the night.

Muszinger

Muszinger paused before the door to the room to compose himself. At least this would be easier than fighting the demon inside Polgrave had been. That force of darkness had withstood all manner of torture and prayer, finally quieting only in the face of Afti-el's power.

The door creaked open, and Muszinger passed into the pitch-black room, and stood a distance from the presence he felt in the other corner.

"God be with you."

"Bah."

"Am I wasting my time here again today?"

"No, I have news."

A long silence, broken at last by Muszinger, "And what, pray, is that news."

"They conspire against you. A house divided must fall."

"Marignon has never been stronger. We rule half the known world."

"And yet you do not see the plots."

Muszinger smiled in the dark. "I am head of the inquisition. I see plots within plots. This morning I tortured a druid to death trying to make him admit that he was in league with Pangaea to overthrow the Church. Which plots do you speak of?"

"The members of AYE, former allies."

"They plan to destroy us?"

"Aye."

Muszinger laughed out loud. "The fools have waited too longer. The LORD's servant grows more powerful as we near, so quickly, the end of all things. What have we to fear from mortal foes in these few short months before the LORD's return? Even if our surprise invasion were to falter..." he suddenly grew quiet.

"It will falter. The air will rise up against you."

Muszinger sighed. It was always like this; more riddles than answers. Alone, hours later, he tried to piece together what he knew about the conspiracy against him and his enemies' attack plans. Then he took out the attack plan he had produced for the lizard wars, Case Chartreuse. From another drawer he drew out Case Emerald, the attack on Man. With a small sigh, he drew more scrolls towards him and wrote names at the top: Case Maroon, Case Blue, Case Orchid (remembering the shifty look in the druid's eye that morning, he added a small scroll for Case Lime). Enemies everywhere... were there even enough armies in Marignon to actually attack everyone. Only the thought of Afti-el and her heavenly protection sustained his hand through the night, and only the sure knowledge that his heavy burdens would be eternally rewarded in just a few months enabled him to find sleep in the morning.

Foen

Shortly after the fall of Ermor a lizard passed by. He was blind and ancient, no doubt lost in the land of eternal night. He carried, he claimed, a suit of dragon chain-mail made entirely from scales shed by the dread dragon Cole. Afti-el heard this and came down from the citadel, killed the lizard, and donned the armor, which shone a brilliant red over her blinding glory.

The Archbishop of Marignon never recovered from his cowardice at the gate. Afti-el thrust upon his head a crown of black laurels found in the crypts, and then chained him upon the bridge before the soul gate, and commanded him to bring forth an army to spare his life. Twisting, crying, Marignon brought forth five great lions of shadow and flame. They burnt his body as they passed, and the form still hangs there limp and smoldering, but none will dare that place to find if he yet lives.

As for myself, I have wandered in dreams along forest paths lit by the last rays of the setting sun. I do not know what I seek, but my heart is ashen and my mouth is dust when I think of Afti-el. I know I shall never escape this prison, never walk softly beneath lilting leaves again. I seek, perhaps, some power of life, some force of nature to counter all this endless death. I have not found it yet, but ever I search. The seasons change around me. The leaves of this world color and fall. Winter comes soon.