From the fiery blazes of hell created by himself, Tallioth entered the battlefield just as the second serpent made its way to Elion and Randan. Whenever he became possessed by the spirit of Morgorath, Tallioth became a loose cannon. A bloodthirsty killer that wanted nothing more than to burn and destroy. He set his sights on the serpent coming straight for him, eager to be challenged in a fight.

  The snake tried to snatch Tallioth up in its jaws. Instead of slipping between the fangs and crawling back out through the ribs, the draconic brute grabbed onto the left upper fang – and stood his ground. Elion could have almost sworn he heard a yelping sound come from the snake as it realised that the small creature it had presumed insignificant had actually forced him to come to a complete stop. In the energy that radiated from this small figure, the snake actually recognised traces of a threat it had fought long ago. Naros, the Lady of Destruction, queen of Puros – once the elemental realm of fire – had used the very same blazing hellfire that now illuminated the scales of the Draconid that stood before it. With his reinforced claws, Tallioth pierced the base of the serpent’s fang and ripped it off.

  Taken aback, the serpent writhed in pain and fear. The line of Naros had killed it once already, and now the resurrection of her son had come to deal with its own resurrected form. Weakened and panicking, the snake turned around and started slithering in the direction of its other half. Reuniting into one whole would mean that it could only fight a single fight at once, but staying apart would undoubtedly lead to another death. Bones can be reshaped, even completely remodelled, but once shattered they become useless to anyone but the most powerful necromancer. Tanor was incredibly powerful indeed, but the title of most powerful did not belong to him – nor would it ever.

  As the snake slithered, Tallioth chased after it. He had grown in size, the magical energy of Morgorath coursing through his body and amplifying everything he had within him. Even without magic, the grass beneath his feet burned and the earth hardened. Elion and Randan, both exhausted, were now completely sidelined. Aerean had recovered and was now fighting her half of the snake, while Aly was off somewhere trying to find the necromancer.

  A mere hundred metres before the two halves of the serpent could be reunited, Tallioth caught up. He jumped up high into the air, where he prepared to scorch the entirety of the field with little regard to anyone’s safety. Aerean saw what was happening, and hastily flew over to Elion and Randan.

  With her talons she grabbed the both of them and flew past a few rows of houses to get deeper into the village. Behind them, they could hear Tallioth talking.

  There was a deeper reason to Tallioth’s muteness than a simple anatomical inability to talk. Tallioth could speak, but his voice was one of the only things that was fully captured by Morgorath’s presence. He could only speak with Morgorath’s voice, in the language of Puros. With the amount of magical power Morgorath carries, each word could accidentally turn into a destructive incantation – as the three hiding in one of the village homes could hear quite clearly.

  “Carne Xultz qhe Puros Hlirdm” the deep, guttural voice of Morgorath boomed across the field and the village. Now, none of the others could actually understand what he was saying – nor can it be perfectly translated – but it means something along the lines of “From the flesh of fire Puros shall be upon you”. Might not make a lot of sense, but then again it is a language developed by mindless bloodthirsty Daemons led by a madwoman. What more can you expect?

  Elion, Randan, and Aerean all braced themselves. Meanwhile, the serpent was too busy being glad it managed to reunite its halves just in time to notice the giant ball of bloodred fire forming above it. By the time it understood what was going, the fireball had hit its skull, and it was being turned to ash.

  It was at this point that Aly’s search was successful – great timing in my opinion, considering that stopping Morgorath would have been next to impossible. With the necromancer dead, the Tendril of the Abyss would lose power and Tallioth could turn back to normal.

  Aly found Tanor crouched over in one of the houses. He had branches growing from the top of his skull now, as well as roots trying desperately to reach the ground beneath him – squirming and writhing in search of soil. There was nothing left of his mind but seething hatred directed at the descendant of the man his possessor loathed with every fibre of her being. As Aly approached, her knife drawn and ready to execute this pathetic excuse of a mage, she heard him speak a few words. Prophetic words, whispered through him by the broken presence that had taken over his body.

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  The Gods of Old shall be no more

  When Dark Tendrils consume the Heavens

  And the Heir of Light and Dark rises

  To bring Balance upon the Worlds

  ???

  The source of Abyssal energy dealt with, Tallioth managed to cool down – literally – and regain control over his body. Aly met up with him and the others at the edge of the village, the body of Tanor dragging behind her.

  “That’s who caused all of this?” Randan asked.

  “It is.”

  “Do you know… what it is?” Aly nodded.

  “There are stories. Stories about the Lady of the Abyss and what happened to her after being struck down and tortured by Alen. They are not stories the Church likes to tell, considering it doesn’t paint their favourite deity in a very good light…” Aly subtly glared over at Elion to see if there was any reaction from him. He however, was way too oblivious and exhausted to interpret anything she was saying. The Abyssal influence on his mind and body had drained him, and so had the exorbitant use of his powers.

  “So what do the stories say?” Aerean interjected.

  Aly continued. “The stories tell of a broken deity, but a deity nonetheless. Gods usually control their powers, conceal them lest they lash out and destroy everything. With her mind broken, Litentia – the Lady of the Abyss – lost that control. Her power was still there, but now it lost all form and all concealment. The Abyss turned into an all-powerful mass of magical power that wanted nothing more than to consume and corrupt the other realms. Stories tell of the Tendrils of the Abyss – vegetation-like structures that are physical representations of Abyssal influence. This necromancer was infested by one of those, or so I think. He controlled it quite well though, I’ve heard of people being completely absorbed and nailed to the ground, embedded into a dark tree for the rest of their miserable existence.”

  Randan and Elion shared a look – now both very much aware of how little they had actually shared with Aly about their encounter with the very same thing at the farmhouse.

  “That doesn’t sound good,” Aerean said. “Is there anything else we should be worried about except for a mindless goddess that apparently doesn’t like Elion too much?”

  “Yes, before I killed him… I could swear that I heard him say something.” Aly hesitated to continue. “It was a prophecy, and it implied the fall of the gods. It also mentioned something… odd, about Elion.” She stopped talking.

  “Alrighty, I think odd things about people should be discussed a little more in private don’t ya think?” Randan said, noticing Aly’s reluctance to share any more information. He carefully nudged Aerean and Tallioth out of the conversation, as well as removing himself.

  “Come on guys, let’s go gather our supplies and prepare to get out of ‘ere,” he said as they walked back into the village – leaving Aly and Elion behind.

  “So, what is it that the necromancer said?” Elion asked.

  Aly took a deep breath to prepare herself, and then answered the question. “One line in the prophecy implied that you are a descendant of two divine lines. There was a mention of an ‘heir of light and dark’. Now we already know that you are the grandson of Artoris, making you the heir of dark. Could there be another divine line mixed into your heritage? Presumably… Alen’s line?”

  Elion took a while to think about it. He knew some things about his mother’s family, but he really didn’t know anything about his father’s ancestors. All he knew was that his dad didn’t talk to any of them anymore due to some dispute that happened years before he was born – the same dispute that got them to move to Hunter’s Rest.

  “It could be. I really don’t know. Are we sure the prophecy isn’t about two separate people? I could be the heir of dark, and whoever it was that took my parents could be the heir of light; is that an option?”

  “Maybe, but the prophecy did point to one heir specifically, not heirs. For now, I think we forget about it. I’m sure we can figure it out at some point. For now, I suggest we meet up with the others and get the hell out of this forsaken ghost town.” Elion agreed, and together they walked into the village one final time.

  They found the others back where they had left Tallioth tied up. The big friendly giant apologised profusely and repeatedly for losing control – twice – and begged for forgiveness from Elion. Naturally, there were no hard feelings. When it came to not being yourself under the influence of an Abyssal power, Elion had his own experiences. He knew none of the blame fell on his friend.

  Together, they gathered their supplies and continued on their way – heading further east until night fell upon them.