Just in case it isn't obvious...the Vine is my life :P

Powers

Immortality: Aztek has lived for an incomprehensible amount of time because although he can die through certain means, every time he dies, his master simply creates a new Aztek with all the memories and skills of his predecessors.

Shapeshifting: Aztek has the power to assume the form of any living being he has proven dominance over, in one of two realms: the battlefield or the bedroom...and with their form he also gains their knowledge and memories and if they are still alive, this also includes his ability to sense wherever they are at any given time.

Chapter One: Lya

Deep in the woodlands of an unknown time and place, dawn was breaking and the first rays of sunlight began to banish the darkness from the forests, bringing about a new day. Woodland creatures of all sorts emerged from their dwelling places to start fighting for their own survival, each in their own way. Yet not every creature that inhabited these tress awoke with the Sun, one individual, shaded by the foliage of the tree they lived in, was undisturbed by the brightness, instead she embraced the darkness.

In a tall tree, too grand for any beast or mortal man to scale there was a platform, a study platform made of wood that lacked any walls, it was absent of any barriers to keep one from plummeting to their doom. On it lay the form of a beautiful young woman, though some might still mistakenly refer to her a girl because of her youthful appearance. Wrapped in naught but a single, thin blanket this girl had somehow endured the cold of night without suffering any ill effects.

She lay quite peacefully in the tree, she had always been one with nature and for that reason, even though her humble abode would not be appreciated by many, to her it was paradise. Her soft breathing could faintly be heard if one were to lean in close but otherwise she was utterly silent. She had derived many skills from living life in these forests, some might even classify her as superhuman. But she wasn’t human, not anymore, this fact was reinforced by The Mark, the one that had been imprinted onto the flesh of her back, the upper right portion to be exact.

The Mark was the combination of three symbols, the first was a skull, signifying that she no longer had a life that was her own, it was now in the possession of Him and him alone. The second item passed over the skull diagonally, it was a scythe, symbolizing  her newfound profession, she collected souls for her master. The third item made another diagonal forming an ‘X’ with the scyhte, it was a chain and it means that just like The Mark would never fade, she would never be able to escape Death, for all eternity she would be his, that is unless he granted her the Final Peace, but that was unlikely.

At that moment, The Mark began to glow, it was time, her master was calling…the silence in the woods was shattered as a bloodcurdling scream was released and heard for miles around, centering around that tree. She was screaming, The Mark was glowing and sending an agonizing sensation throughout her body, it had disrupted her rest with unimaginable pain. She quickly threw off the blanket, exposing her naked body, as she swiftly got to her feet the pain began to subside thanks to the mystic incantation she muttered over and over again.

Using another spell she conjured up herself a stunningly beautiful maroon corset that fit the curves of her body perfectly and reached a little past her waist where it became a long, loose-fitting navy black skirt that was easily swayed by the gentle breeze. Her reddish hair was long and though she had it tied up at the back of her head it still fell past her shoulders, also moving with the wind. Vaguely visible through the strands of hair were her most coveted feature, her ears that were pointed at the top, her “elven ears”.

Now that she seemed comfortable that she was presentable a slight frown appeared on her face, though she loved her father so much she wished she had not taken The Oath, just for him, now all she wanted was to be free of Him but she couldn’t because of what her love for her father had caused her to do. Finally, she responded to The Call and with her left hand she brushed her fingers across The Mark and everything happened instantaneously. The glowing ceased, the pain stopped and before her appeared a doorway filled with pitch blackness.

With one final glance around the platform to see if she had forgotten anything she noticed a blade embedded in the wood between her feet and bent over, clasping her fingers over its hilt and ripping it from the wood. The blade had a bluish tinge to it, as if it was a vessel for a mass of mystical energy, she thrust the knife into he corset, the tight fit keeping her blade immobile and hidden. So it was that the barefoot young woman took a step into the darkness with her right foot, her left soon following into the shadow…neither were ever to set foot on that much beloved platform again, Lya had just taken the step that would change her life forever.

Chapter Two: Bane and the Dimension of Shadows

In a lost dimension, a world of blinding white, there was shadow, shadows swirled throughout this white, entwining themselves, for they were alive. They moved at the will of their master and so he fashioned a dark and might throne from the shadow, a throne in which the eight foot tall, broad-shouldered musclebound god now rested in. Few had ever seen his face for he kept it concealed with the cloak of shadows that shielded his body from being seen by mere mortals. However, only the foolish wanted to see what was beyond the cloak, for it was said that those who did would die.

In his left hand, a scythe hung limply while in his right he held a short length of chain, He was the one who held captive all of the naked, pitiful bodies that shook in his presence, they were his Heralds, the Heralds of Death. At his right sat his First Herald, the almighty Aztek whose name was feared across the earth, throughout the ages. At his left sat his Bride, whose beauty was legend and at her side was his Prophet…a man dutifully bound to serve Him. And at the foot of the master’s throne knelt an aging man who shook with fear and yet at the same time rage as this nightmare brought his fury down upon him with his terror-instilling, bellowing voice. “Amun, you worthless sack of flesh! Where is your daughter!? I sent out The Call and yet still she is not here! You know very well what disobedience entails…”

Amun begged, though with a firm voice, “Please, Almighty Bane, do not harm her, she is still young, she does not know.” However, his bravery would lead to him saying some words that sealed his fate… “If you dare touch her I will do everything in my power to make sure you fall!” Amun continued to press his master, both asking and threatening him to forgive his daughter but knowing full well she would receive none and he would pay for his words.

Bane rose to his feet and outstretched his left arm, the scythe now gripped tightly in his hand, “You insolent fool, she will escape unharmed for her crime but not because I am merciful. Nay, you are responsible for her and for that reason, YOU shall suffer.” At that moment the shadows came up and pulled the scythe from his grasp as he had ordered them to and then they formed beings that each grabbed Bane’s pitiful servant, dragging him to where he was restrained, his naked back bared to his merciless master.

Amidst the group of about half a dozen unclothed men and women that all “served” Bane, Lya suddenly appeared, dressed in her beautiful garb, another crime the naïve girl had committed without realizing it. She knew not what her “fellows” were looking at and so strained for a better view of it only to behold a sight that brought a sick feeling to her stomach.

A giant, shadowy monster was brutally whipping her father, with a chain, and though the chain ripped flesh from bone and caused blood to pour unceasingly from her loving father’s body, that was not the reason he screamed out. It was those times when the chain passed through her father’s body, those times his physical body was left undamaged but the screams of agony proved it hurt the most of all, it was as if his soul was being ripped apart.

Lya was utterly petrified and did naught but stare at the mangled body of her father, heard his bones snap, watched the blood pour, felt his pain but then…then he went still…the silence was deafening. Bane saw his job was done and nonchalantly turned, focusing his gaze on Lya. “Ah, so you finally decided to join us, well I guess then I should let you know”, he directed her gaze at the motionless body, “That is what happened to your father because he tried to protect you.”

Lya gasped, this was her fault, was her father dead because of her? This began to sink in, and she felt a deep pain in her chest from what she had done. Bane then addressed the hurting Lya again, “Do not worry, he is not dead, however, he won’t be able to protect you from my anger now. You have desecrated this place with your attire, now you shall suffer a fate worse than death!”

With that the massive entity turned to his Prophet, “Balazar, do what you wish with the girl, just make sure she knows the consequences for disobeying my laws.” With that said, Bane turned his back on Lya, The Prophet created some shadow minions to grab Lya and drag her over to him, and though she did her best to fight them she could do nothing as they slowly sapped her of her strength.

Finally they dropped her at Balazar’s feet and he picked her up by a single arm, and she hung limply at his side, she had lost all her willpower to fight, with a cruel smile he created a wall of shadows all around the two, and when it vanished seconds later, the two were gone.

Bane turned to the rest of his cowering servants, his pitiless smile hidden, “Now…for your mission.”

Chapter Three: Lya Is Punished

In a dark, dank, underground dungeon like that told of in medieval legends a shadow began to ooze from where the mortar should have been holding the stone bricks together. Pouring down the walls, the shadow eventually reached the floor and heading to the center of the cell, it eventually ended up all pooling to form a circle of darkness. Then, as if right on cue, two forms rose up from the Shadow Portal, the dominant figure was a young man bearing many a battle scar. Crumpled at his feet was a broken girl, her once gorgeous body now had several wounds decorating it and her beautiful gown was ripped and torn in numerous places.

The man, Balazar, reached down and placing his palm under her chin he gripped her jaw firmly with his fingers and jerked her neck up so that she was now forced to look deep into his eyes, his eyes that were dark as pitch. What she saw made her want to scream out but she could not, and after what seemed like an eternity, he let go of her and she fell heavily to the dampened stone at his feet. “Get up! You don’t even know yet why you are being punished do you?” She heard his words but the pain made her unable to respond.

“You see child, in the presence of our master you shall hide NOTHING, not your physical self, nor your soul. He may have granted you powers but next to him you are still nothing and so shall you always be, forget it and I cannot help you.” At that moment, Lya summoned all of her strength, supporting her upper body with her arms so she could look up at his face and it was then that her dangerously curious mind got the best of her, “But then, why are you wearing that cloak, shouldn’t you be naked too.”

Should his eyes have had any emotion, they would have flared up at that moment as Balazar brought the back of his hand down hard, striking Lya’s cheek and knocking her to the ground. “You dare question me? Do that again and you shall pay with more than your physical being but just so you know, The Master, His Bride, His Prophet, which would be myself.” Then he began to mutter, “and of course that fool Aztek…” raising his voice, he spoke firmly, acting as if hadn’t muttered a word, “…are permitted to wear these shadow cloaks as they proclaim our rank, our superiority!”

Lya lay on the floor in a heap, the words sinking in deeper than ever Balazar anticipated, Lya wept, realizing that her life was at an end, yet even so she wouldn’t even be able to embrace the sweetness of death, not unless her master allowed it, and for that reason she continued to mourn her own position. Lya wept for that reason but she also wept for the fact that her mistakes would likely lead to her father’s murder and now she was being brutally beaten for those same mistakes, by this “man”, this Prophet of Death, where had her innocence gone.

Yet what he did next surprised her, his feet rose from the ground until he was hovering over the Shadow Portal and he spoke to her, “Now, to go out and perform some work for my Lord, I must go and complete my appointed task.” but before he could vanished she questioned him again.

“Does this mean I can go free?” at these words Balazar burst into cruel laughter, “Far from it lass, nay, I may be going but my servant, Grishnakh, still wants to have his fun with you.” The black-haired man flashed a wicked smile, pulled his hood over his head and then descended into the Portal, vanishing with it in a flash of darkness.

Lya found herself overcome with emotions, fear, sadness, pain, grief, confusion and so she thought out loud, believing herself to be alone, “Grishnakh? Who is Grishnakh?”


At that moment, a bestial man emerged from the shadowy corner of the room that was opposite where Lya was. “I am Grishnakh!” The man, if he could be called a man, was hideous, he stood taller than six feet and must have been more than four feet wide, all of that bulk was muscle, he was truly a monster. His smile brought horrifying images to Lya’s mind, “Don’t worry, I just want to play with you.” As he walked towards her, the image of The Mark on the left side of his chest burned in her mind, he was trapped, just like her, but somehow…he was finding pleasure in his life of servitude.

After that, there is a period of nothingness in Lya’s memory as she has dutifully repressed it but it can be assumed that the images are not for the feint of heart, but that day was not the end for Lya, not at all, for fate had something more in store for her.

Chapter Four: The Nighthunter

The pain Balazar felt as he emerged from the Portal into the night sky caused him to grimace, at one point the feeling had been unbearable but centuries of experience made traveling through rifts in the space-time continuum commonplace. Balazar hovered for a few seconds and then slowly descended, lightly landing on a brilliantly lighted sign. A sign that read, “Welcome to the Fabulous Las Vegas.”

Balazar laughed to himself, Vegas never failed, not only did it always provide him with the souls his Master desired, it is where he had found three of the Almighty Bane’s Heralds, one of them had been in the gutter and the other two had been desperate for gambling money, all of them easy prey. But tonight he had not come here to find more servants, he was here to once again prove his loyalty and formidable power to his Master by easily succeeding at finishing yet another task.

The Prophet of Death than made certain his cloak kept him concealed and taking advantage of his youthful body he performed a series of acrobatic maneuvers until he rested his feet on the earth. Scanning the area to make sure he wasn’t noticed, Balazar faded into the shadows, until he became a shadow himself, allowing for the travel of lengthy distances in the blink of an eye, and so he did travel.
In a dark alley, Balazar watched as a lone man walked nervously into the alley, why he was foolish enough to enter the alley did not matter to Balazar, he was focused on something else. He watched as two men were beating another to death, he would have to hurry, the man’s life force was dissipating quickly. So in an instant, the shadowed Balazar stood directly behind one of the muggers and he plunged his hand into the man’s back, grasped his heart and tore it out.

The mugger collapsed on the ground dead before he could even react. The Prophet of Death dropped the still-beating heart onto the alley floor, the accomplice and dying man both looked at Balazar in terror and one of them whispered in fear, “It’s the…” The voice was interrupted by a gasp as all three souls began to leave the men’s bodies, drifting towards Balazar’s bottomless eyes, “…the Nighthunter.”

The Prophet then turned to see that man who had stumbled in the alley earlier, he was shooting up and completely focused as he injected the drugs from the syringe into his blood vessels. The Nighthunter smiled and startled the addict as he materialzed before him. Balazar spoke as he stole the man’s soul, “Don’t worry, this world won’t miss you.” Right after that Balazar felt as if today was his lucky night as another man came into the alley, a hooker on each arm, however, none of the three ever got to experience that night of pleasure they had hoped for…

Balazar felt like he was overflowing with power, as now, seven souls inhabited his body but he knew the feeling could not last, the souls weren’t for him, they were for his Master. So, Balazar placed seven golden coins on the pavement in front of himself and in a massive expulsion of power, the seven souls were banished from their host’s body, each into its own gold coin. Balazar then pcoked each one of the coins and was gone, leaving behind a blacked out Sin City.

Aztek relaxed in his dark and foreboding throne of shadow, he knew Bane was up to something, likely something to dispose of his First Herald, as usual but Aztek did not care. He knew he had the power to defeat his Master, he just knew that Bane still had his uses at the moment and Aztek may still need him alive for a while, for he was the only thing holding this ragtag group of servants together.
Watching closely, Aztek witnessed Bane summon the shadows to bring to him one of the mystical items that were his by right, as the personification of Death, some of these items included the chain and scythe that rarely left his side. But those were not what he was having brought to him, rather he was handed a goblet by his shadows, the Dark Chalice. This was the most mysterious of all the items Bane possessed as it was the only one with a purpose that Aztek could not discern.

The first to approach Bane was none other than his Prophet, Balazar, the man had a dark history intertwined with Aztek, all that was known to the majority of those in this dimension was that the two were now bitter rivals, both fighting for the favor of their master. So it was that Aztek found himself unsurprised as Balazar dropped seven golden coins into the cup, flashing a smile at Aztek, hoping to further enrage him. Aztek was completely clueless to what was the purpose of the coins but as he watched the procession of men and women each placing a single coin in the cup he figured this was the mission they had been sent out for.

Yet Aztek was intrigued as even though seven others besides Balazar had been given the mission, only six came forward…and then he saw her. She stood alone, trying to hide in the shadows, keep out of sight, the look of her told Aztek immediately that she was much too gentle, too timid for the work she was supposed to do as a servant of Death, and right now she was likely fearing the Dark Master’s wrath. That was when a feeling that was foreign to Aztek swept over him, he knew not what is was but knowing Bane would notice her failure he used his gift to teleport a coin from inside the Dark Chalice into the woman’s hand.

None of the others noticed what he had done, for nobody would have ever expected it, not even Bane, but she looked down in surprise at the coin that materialized in her hand and a slight smile appeared on her lips, she would not need to be punished…for not having it in her to steal someone’s soul. As she rushed to quickly place the coin in the goblet Aztek felt in disarray to see her happiness. Had he done this? The thought disturbed him but within a few seconds he regained his composure underneath the hood of his cloak and returned to his cold and uncaring self.

With that Bane turned to Aztek and barked out an order, “Fetch the fools from the chambers of torture, I think it is time that my servants gather.” Aztek nodded and vanished, not knowing Bane was simply getting rid of him so he could go about his own sinister plans.

Chapter Five: Lya's Savior

Aztek continued his descent down the spiraling stone steps, he could have effortlessly teleported himself into Balazar’s torture chamber but he preferred to take the long route today, to think about what had just happened. What had happened? He did not know, he had felt something for that woman and shown her mercy, he had known of mercy before but today had been the first time he had ever shown such a trait and it made him afraid, another new feeling. Was her too becoming weak? He couldn’t be, he was invincible, he was the source of all fear, the sadistic slaughterer, he was Aztek the Almighty, and he was going to prove it, prove his power, his strength…through aggression, yes like most men he saw aggression as the key to proving himself.

Lost in thought, Aztek barely noticed as he took one final step down and began his walk along the dark corridor that led to the Prophet of Death’s chamber of despair. The corridor was lined with hundreds of cells, Aztek occasionally glanced through the bars into them but all he saw were the skeletal remains of those who had been punished by Bane, and forgotten, the ones who died slowly for a period of centuries.  Their flesh rotted and they suffered extreme pains but all of them were lucky enough to eventually find peace. Aztek walked for quite some time and as he began to get within close proximity of Balazar’s room, which was marked by the iron door that hid what went on inside, Aztek heard something.

Shackled in his cell, Amun had given up all hope, he was to be forgotten, just like the rest had been. The man felt nothing but contempt for himself, it was he who had dragged his daughter into this, her and her mother, they weren’t meant to live a life like this, they were too caring, too loving to make a living stealing souls. Amun now lay, exhausted, on the floor of his cell, he had tried to break the chains all night long, to save his daughter, her screams still echoed in his ears. The things they were doing to her, he didn’t even dare to imagine, all that mattered was it was his fault. His tears, sweat and blood covered his body, he had fought long and hard but to no avail. He could do nothing…but then, then he heard it, footsteps and with a new feeling of hope he shouted out, “Free me, I shall serve my master diligently should I be freed!”

Turning to look inside the cell from which the voice came, Aztek stopped and stared at the man, in an instant he recalled the fool being whipped by Bane, for the crimes his daughter had committed. Aztek saw the man as weak and pitiful but thought, perhaps, being alone had toughened him up, to be a real servant of Bane. So, the Bringer of Death looked down at the fool and without allowing emotion to guide his judgment he decided to let Bane worry about him. So, without a word he created an open doorway into the master’s throne room, then liquefied the metal bars with a touch of his hand, and then he telekinetically obliterated the fetters that had held Amun. Finally, Aztek turned from the shocked man and after making a gesture to the doorway he continued his walk to his own door, without even realizing Amun was not entering the portal but rather as watching Aztek, quite closely in fact.

A scream was then heard through the soundproof iron door, a final scream that came from the throat of the one Aztek had been to fetch. The fact that Aztek could hear her screams proved not only his power but how horrifyingly painful or terrible her punishment was. However, Aztek felt no guilt about it all, because he in fact had made countless men and women scream as he would slay them. What was one more scream to him? Yet even then, he hid not wish to see Grishnakh in all his “glory” and so he angrily bellowed, “You are finished with her Grishnakh! Let alone the girl and flee!”

Within a few seconds Aztek stood at the iron door and with his right hand he tore the entire door off its hinges and tossed it aimlessly, he was now prepared to prove his mightiness to all who should stand in his way. Grishnakh stared at Aztek in horror and for a moment he was frozen in fear. Grishnakh knew that Aztek would kill him if he did not leave right then but he was stupid and felt he didn’t deserve to be pushed around so he stopped directly in front of Aztek, blocking his path through use of his massive body, even Aztek’s strength did not match up to his own.

“Aztek try threatening me again and I will have your entrails!” Everything went silent for a few moment but if one could see inside Aztek’s hood they would see a smile that haunts the dreams of both the pure and the wicked. Without another word Aztek raised his left arm so that it hovered over Grishnakh’s Mark and with a great thrust his flattened palm pushed itself into the beast. Yet this hand was not ordinary, no, it was the Hand of Death, a shadowy hand that possessed a touch that brought unceasing pain to its victim. So it was that Grishnakh screamed aloud and collapsed to the floor. Shadows snaked along his body, filling his blood vessels, his eyes, his heart but then Aztek did the unexpected…he stopped the pain. He then spoke to Grishnakh, “I will come to collect in time…but for now you still are of use to me.” With that he teleported the bestial man to Bane’s throne room and turned his gaze to the girl.

She lay naked on the floor and looked as if she had been bathed in bodily fluids, predominantly blood, she seemed to have passed out from exhaustion. Aztek noticed she bore a resemblance to the woman he had rescued from Bane’s wrath and suddenly, that feeling swept over again. He stood there unmoving for some time, he had to fight it, he was becoming weak but then an idea came to him. He entered the girl’s mind, seeking out where she had come from, he saw any wondrous things in her mind, but was most intrigued by a dark door he found that could not be opened. However, he found the information he desired in time and so departed from her mind, once again inhabiting his own body. With a waving of his hand he opened a doorway to a distant woodland and looking down at the child he reached out and grabbed her upper arm with his shadow hand, withholding the poison from harming her, or so he thought. Then he entered the doorway, hauling the girl with him, none too gently, finally he set her down on the earth floor and returned to the cell, closing the doorway behind him, making sure no one would ever know the identity of Lya’s savior.

Aztek now reentered the corridor heading for the doorway he had not yet closed and standing by it he saw the prisoners he had released. “Fool! I told you to go immediately!” The man did not flinch and held his gaze steady, “What…where is my daughter?” Aztek was now standing at the doorway and was not about to slow down so he shoved Amun through the door and answered flatly, “She is dead.”

Chapter Six: The Duel of Death

Arriving in Bane’s throne room Aztek thought nothing of his surroundings, having no idea an event of extreme importance to his own fate had occurred only moments ago. No, instead his eyes focused on a mourning father, the fool had no right to cry, he had no understanding of what loss was.  After a short walk Aztek finally stood by his throne and so took his seat, finding an unexpected scene playing out before his eyes. The prisoner he had freed now seemed to be comforting the woman, the one who had been haunting his thoughts, conclusions would have been assumed in Aztek’s mind if not for the fact that he regained control over his mind and blocked out all emotions. Rather, he now looked at the golden ring that rested on the middle finger of his right hand, letting his mind drift into thought he began to think of the upcoming feat he would have to perform that would bring about triumph, triumph or agony.

Bane watched Aztek as he returned to his throne, there was something different about the strange man but Bane decided it did not matter, it would only make killing the weak-minded child all the easier. The energy coursing through his body was unimaginable, the thirteen souls he had absorbed made him feel like he did in his prime, invincible, when the time came Aztek would die. Bane that knew that it wouldn’t be long before He arrived, the only being that Bane bowed to…would soon be here, in his realm. It had been ten thousand years since the last arrival of his master, as always, and Bane knew without a shadow of a doubt that it would be the same once again…he was never late, why should he be, time and space were at his command. That is why Bane had powered himself up, for he knew what was going to happen with the arrival of his master, the same thing that happened every ten thousand years, the Duel of Death.

At that moment utter silence fell upon the entire throne room, from the gods in their thrones to the mortals cowering before them, all was silent. This silence came to an end mere seconds later, when He came in a mist of the deepest red, the color of blood. He was dressed in a black top hat and suit, making it appear as if he had just stepped out of the Victorian Era wearing only the finest attire. He had the look of a noble about him, and all eyes were drawn to him as the red smoke slowly dispersed and faded away, leaving the magnificent being standing alone in the center of the throne room.

No one even knew who he was, well, almost no one, except for three individuals, three individuals knew of his identity yet four of them had seen him before. He looked around at those surrounding himself and raised his hands in a grand manner as he focused his sight on Bane, “Ah, we meet again Alexander, I suppose you know what it is, do you not?”

Bane locked eyes with the visitor and though he was angered at the use of his former name he did not say this, he knew his place. “Indeed I do, its time for the same that happens every ten thousand years in this realm, the Duel of Death.” The man smiled at these words and spoke up again, “So you have not forgotten, I sure hoped you wouldn’t as this shall be your forty-third and well, if you wouldn’t be able to know what was coming by now I might have to kill you myself for your ignorance.” Another wicked smile flashed and the man continued, “Who is your challenger this time?”

Aztek’s mind was quickly processing all the information it could from this conversation and though he did not truly understand the concept of this Duel of Death he assumed it was a fight to the death and whoever won would become…the very personification of death, which was exactly what Bane was at the moment. So when he heard the mysterious man’s final question he immediately got to his feet, “I am his challenger!” He could sense the shock in both his master and this man who seemed to be even greater than his master but knew not why they should be surprised.

Bane remained shocked, he had planned on challenging the weakest of his servants and now his strongest had instead come forward proclaiming his intent to strike Bane down this day. Yet the primordial god that stood before them seemed pleased with this challenge and a smile once again was clearly visible on his face, a smile that was anything but innocent.

He looked directly into Aztek’s eyes, “Than I guess you should prepare yourself boy, this duel shall decide your future, everything in your life has been building up to this moment.” Aztek had no idea what this man was talking about, in fact, the truth was Aztek could not even remember his life before his time as a servant of Bane so he just assumed this was the normal tag-line used for Bane’s opponents. Aztek then watched as He gave a slight nod to Balazar and Bane, and then took his place in Bane’s mighty throne, forcing both Bane and Aztek to now stand side by side, their mightiness meant nothing now.

Balazar had now moved to the center of the pantheon and began uttering a mystical incantation as he walked in some sort of pattern along the shadowy floor. Everywhere that he stepped, shadow dispersed and whenever he should raise a foot blinding brilliance shot up into the void. What was happening Aztek knew not, he had no idea that this was a seal Balazar was creating, an enchanted seal. Balazar finished his spell with a mighty display of the magicks he possessed, and then walked over to stand at the foot of the throne which now seated the one above all. By now the light no longer streaked up towards the skies, though it still illuminated the shadows in precise formations and so Aztek and Bane entered the seal. Aztek turned to his master, embarrassed of his own failure to grasp the situation, and whispered, “What happens next?”

Surprisingly Bane smiled as he gave Aztek his response, “Do you not know? We shall fight to the death and this seal will keep us trapped…the only way it can be broken is if one of us takes the life of the other.” Smiling wickedly he finished, “The champion is proclaimed Death and given powers beyond those of mortal comprehension…of course you don’t have to worry about that part, it won’t matter to you where your going.”

Once again, Aztek processed this information in silence but he decided to speak up this time once again and questioned his master, “And who did you defeat, Alexander…to take your place as Death?”

Bane smiled at Aztek as he tore off his shadowy cloak, exposing the body of none other than…a mere mortal man. Aztek was taken aback at this but listened as Bane spoke to him, “You have no idea who I am do you? I am the conqueror of the world, the great Alexander himself. I was chosen personally by the gods to become Death and so was granted their mighty powers with which I overtook the earth. In time however, I learned of my true purpose and so I killed Reaper, the Death at the time, inside of this very seal. So it was that forty-three thousand years ago I was renamed Bane and given more power than any man has ever possessed.” At that moment, Bane withdrew his mighty battlesword, a blade of legend that was several feet in length and only the strongest could lift, he raised it and his face hardened, he was ready for battle and Aztek realized at that moment that this man was created solely for this purpose…what chance did Aztek have?

Outside of the seal, Balazar stood next to the seated Bride of Death and the Lord of Chaos…he and the god had watched this event unfold many times before but to the Bride all of this was new so she spoke her questions aloud, “Why can’t I see what’s going on in there?” She gestured to the giant dome of swirling shadows as Balazar turned to look into the eyes of the woman and coldly he answered her question, “That is because, my Mistress, there is no longer anything in that spot, it is void. They are no longer a part of this existence and the only way they may return to this world is by taking the life of the other.”

At hearing this the Mistress kept her composure, outwardly at least, as inside she was terrified at this. It truly began to sink in, she realized what must happen, today she was either going to lose the person she loved more than any other being in this world…or she was going to lose her husband. She turned to look up at the Lord of Chaos and glared at him as she angrily spoke unto him, “You will pay for your sins one day…” she spat upon his face, “…father.”

Bane looked down at his pitiful apprentice who know lay flat on his back, a look of disappointment was clearly visible in Bane’s eyes, “I thought I had trained you well, I thought I taught you to know when you’d already lost.” Raising his might sword over his head, Alexander brought it down with tremendous amounts of strength, yet the blade never beheaded Aztek as it was meant to. No, it was stayed by a shadow that took the blow for Aztek, a living shadow, it was Aztek’s Hand of Death. Its fingers clasped themselves around the blade and though it was sharpened to slice through any material and was now pressing against the palm of Aztek’s hand, not a single scratch appeared. The Hand took control of Aztek and tore the blade from Bane’s grasp, tossing it aside as Aztek now got to his feet.

Aztek began to feel confident once again, as if now he had all the cards, however he had no idea that Bane knew more about him and his shadow hand than even he did, “Aztek you fool, you still do not even know the origins of your Hand of Death, you have no idea what is capable of.” He grinned, “But do not worry, I shall teach you.” At that moment, Bane’s entire right arm became shadow and he raised it up, slowly closing his fingers. Aztek began to feel then that he was being strangled by fingers that were slowly taking his life. At first he knew not what it was but then as Bane’s fingers relaxed and the sensation disappeared leaving Aztek on his knees it became clear…Bane’s hand…it was able to effect things without even touching them, could his perhaps do the same?

Between gasps for air Aztek spoke, “Master, you always were too cocky, you never thought that your student would one day use everything you taught him to destroy you.” Bane still didn’t get it…didn’t see he had lost so he asked Aztek, “And what do you mean by that?” Aztek smiled, “This…” raising his shadow hand he lifted Bane off the ground without even laying a finger on him, “…is what I mean.” Bane began to struggle as he was slowly asphyxiated while hovering several feet above the shadows Aztek’s feet rested upon. “Why…why are you doing this? I can restore your life…if I win.”

Smiling, the Dark Lord reached up and touched Bane’s bared midriff with his Hand of Death and laughed, “My lust for power got the best of me Master, just like it once did you.” Aztek’s eyes were now black as pitch as he turned around and walked…heading for the thrones that he could not see. Behind him Bane now screamed as he convulsed, the shadows spreading across his body, overwhelming him, “please…” he begged. Soon the shadows overtook the former god’s entire body, boring into his eyes, filling his nostrils, his lungs, it wasn’t king before his screams were silenced and he went still. At that moment the shadow dome crumbled and shattered, revealing to the eyes of Chaos and the Heralds of Death one single being…that being was none other than Aztek…the Son of Chaos.

Chapter Seven: Origins

In the beginning, the beginning of time, nay, the beginning before time, there was nothing…or at least almost nothing for in fact there were two things, two beings…light and shadow. Though nameless at the time, eventually He would be named Death and she would be called The Mother, and so for the purpose of this narration that is what we shall refer to them as…

The Mother was a being of sheer brilliance, her beauty so dazzling that He could not even be in its presence and as such he often found himself hiding in the corners, unable to feel her warmth. Yet still, he craved her, craved to intertwine with her, to satisfy the carnal desires for pleasure that were deep rooted in his soul. And so, so it was that Death, that Death took advantage of Her kindness, of her gentleness, that he finally took control, took what he felt was due him.

And that, that is where out story takes one step closer, one step closer to the origin of a man whose mysterious past is known to so few. For it was then that The Mother truly took on the role for which she is named, defiled by the shadow she may have been but pure she still is. So, when she gave birth to twins she blessed them, unfolding the cosmos before the eyes of her children, making the universe for her cherished young ones to enjoy. These children however, unlike their parents, were not nameless, rather they spoke their own names wherever they set foot for their names could work wonders. She was called Serenity and his name was Christopher, but you may know him by another name…

Christopher and Serenity loved one another, with such passion that has been unmatched throughout the ages, the universe was their’s to control, their’s to enjoy and so for eons they danced amongst the stars, for ages they kissed within the soft glow of their mother’s presence. She wanted her children to be happy forever and so for her beloved she fashioned an orb, on which they could live, making many others so that they would not grow bored. And then she condensed herself to form a great orb that would warm her children, an orb that would one day become known as the Sun.

On the surface of this empty orb, devoid of life as it was, Serenity would dance and vegetation would grow wherever her melodious voice would be heard. Christopher would watch her from afar and with his call would come creatures to inhabit the places his sister’s joy did create. Christopher pursued his sister across the earth for six days and nights…but on the seventh, she gave into her exhaustion and lay down upon a grassy knoll and drifted into a sleep. That was how Christopher did find her, sleeping peacefully in the swaying grasses and when he saw her beauty he lay down beside her, gently awaking her, she awoke to see her charming brother’s face and softly smiled at him, and the two made love…true love, the first true love.

From this union came a life, the life of a beautiful child, a child birthed painlessly to a loving mother and father, for they not only loved one another but they loved their daughter, and their daughter was love. Yet her birth brought some attention to this orb in the expanse of darkness, some unwanted attention, for her grandfather had come for a visit, to meet his son…That night, the darkest evil of all time was born, through a father’s teachings a son was transformed and on that day Christopher died…and Chaos was born.

And when dawn broke over the horizon and Serenity’s eyes fluttered open, she found that for the first time since “The Seventh Day”  she was not sleeping next to the man she cherished, he was gone, and he had taken the baby with him. Serenity wept, wept for days, weeks, months and from her tears rivers were formed, seas were created and ocean beds were filled, she had lost all she held dear and knew not why.

Yet she was not alone, for in the shadows, an unseen presence watched her but did nothing to end her pain, his love for her had been tainted, becoming perverted by the evil of his father. Now his goal was no longer to win his sister’s affections but to raise his daughter in the ways of darkness. He tormented her, beat her, forced her to do the most despicable of deeds but still he was angered for she would not be corrupted, for she was the essence of love, a pure love that evil could not destroy, or at least that’s what legend said. This routine continued for about fifteen years until finally Chaos became fed up with his daughter’s defiance and made the decision that she needed to be taught a lesson, by watching helplessly as the one person she loved most would be tormented.

That night she was forced to watch in terror as Chaos ravaged her mother, brutally beating her for what would have been days, had time not been standing still. She tried to scream as she watched but could not…and then he did it…Chaos raped his innocent sister, ultimately destroying the love that had once been so pure. Serenity cried out for help, but there were none…none that came, her Mother was being held back by the shadows of the night and her daughter was spellbound to simply watch…but Serenity did not know that, she thought she was being forsaken and so…she gave up, she stopped fighting her brother, all hope having left her.
However, eventually that night of wickedness did end but not without consequences, for that unholy union had done the unexpected, Serenity found herself to be with child. When Chaos learned of this he found new hope for his quest, his quest to create a servant of the darkness, so he left his daughter to be with her mother…and then faded back into the shadows, to wait, await the birth of his son.

For those nine months Serenity and her daughter toiled as they walked the mountain passes, seeking refuge, hoping they could escape him…but the effort was in vain. Finally, on one stormy night Serenity knew it was time and guided by her daughter she entered a mountain cave where she lay down. But there was no rest for her, no, not this time, instead she screamed out in agony, suffering extreme doses of pain, but she would not give up living, not yet, she couldn’t give up on her son… So, for twelve days and nights she went without rest, thinking that perhaps, perhaps she was not meant to give birth…and then she slipped into unconsciousness, and from the darkness emerged Chaos, who at that moment put an end to his spell that had been keeping Serenity in pain and now arrived to orchestrate his son’s birth.

Standing over his sister as she birthed their child he kept their other child at bay with his magicks and then revealed his true intentions as he began to speak, creating a curse for his soon-to-be-born son…

If you touch him, you will die
The air shall be filled with your screams and your cries,
To the realm of shadow, condemned you shall be,
Friend or foe, all must pay the fee,
Whether now or in time, death shall come,
So do not think that you can run,
For if your run you’ll burst in flame,
From the guilt of all your shame

A wicked smile was seen on his face as he turned to his daughter and then vanished in a swirl of shadows. She screamed out, she could not let…let her father do to her brother what he had done to her and so she rushed over to her mother who was beginning to revive from the trance she had been put in. Then it was that she put to use some of the knowledge her father had given her and she spoke her own spell, a spell that spoke of love.

Yet should ye receive his dark kiss,
Ye shalt find eternal bliss,
Then the curse itself shall break,
And a destiny of his own my brother shalt make

Seconds later, the Son of Chaos was born and cradled in the arms of his mother, but giving birth to him had taken a toll on her and she died that night but not before she spoke her last words to him, “Stay strong my son, you will do great things one day…” the curse began to bring even more weariness to her already exhausted body and she began gasping for breath. But just before she passed on to oblivion she whispered with her one least breath, “…Aztek.”

That was the first death, Aztek was the first murderer but his elder sister refused to allow a cruse to stop her from caring for him and so she became his caretaker, she nursed him as a babe, raised him as a boy and taught him to live on his own as a man. She was the one who kept a hope alive in this accursed being for she loved him dearly and was always ready to protect him from the evils of their father. By the time Aztek was fifteen years of age however, his father became bored, how could his son feel rejected and turn to the darkness if the only person besides himself that lived on earth was the person who represented love itself. So it was that Chaos formed a new race of creatures, a special race, one that reflected his own sinful nature, and he called them man.

Man was a very advanced race and so it was not long before they multiplied to inhabit even the farthest reaches of the globe, Aztek watched this all unfold over the course of what we would call millenia, a period of time that did nothing to age either of the Children of Chaos. So it was that the two of them sought to mingle with these “peoples” that were so alike to them. Yet no matter what city, village or encampment they entered they were banished, for Aztek’s curse would kill all those who came in contact with him. This caused him to become a depressed and angry young man, and though his sister tried to shelter him from this pain it became unbearable to put up with this new Aztek…even  for her, and she left him.

That is when Lord Chaos saw his chance, his chance to set his son down the path that he was destined to follow, the one his father had laid out for him, a path of misery but more importantly a path that led to Death, who ironically, despite his name, is the being that can be credited for the creation of life. Death…the title of the one whose duty it was to make certain that souls entered oblivion, the task had been left to Chaos after his father departed from the throne but instead his son had devised a way to pick out a champion to take on this role in his stead, it was called the Duel of Death.

His first champion had been Grim, formerly the god of battle known as Leonidas he had become Death after the throne was empty and with his three hundred he dominated the realm outside of our world’s time and space for more than three billion years. Yet then, Grim’s reign had come to an end when one of the most brilliant minds of all time defeated him in battle and so became Death, or Dark as he was more often called. However, even a genius has weaknesses and so an ordinary man, a stranger, a nobody in fact challenged the titan to the Duel of Death and found himself victorious…he is the one known as Reaper. But Chaos became tired of constantly having new champions arise and so created the perfect champion, Bane. Bane thought himself invincible and he was, until Chaos decided it was time for him to once again have his line rule the earth, and without a second thought he had Bane killed…Lord Chaos felt no remorse for his sins.

But let us not get ahead of ourselves, how did Aztek meet the one who become his master you ask? Well, in fact they met as enemies…centuries ago on this earth. At the time of their meeting Aztek stood alone in a valley, bodies littering the blood-soaked dirt that surrounded him. He had been fighting for several hours now, wearing naught but the blood of the fallen. It was a bloodlusting Aztek versus an army of thousands, but they were mortal and he was not, so they fell to his blade like wheat to the scythe. However, the fools kept coming and so he kept slaughtering them, embracing his curse he had begun a habit of slaying anyone who stood in his way, it had become a pleasure to take the lives of the innocent…

So Aztek fought on, slaying thousands more who came to try their hand at him, but who could a mere mortal best a god, what Aztek didn’t know is…he wasn’t the only god in that war, but he learned that truth when He came. The man was a beast, and with his size easily dwarfed the six foot tall Aztek, he wielded a battlesword, the likes of which Aztek had never seen before, and he used it well. During the course of their one-on-one fight this man easily made a fool out of Aztek, and after he grew bored of their fight he simply severed Aztek’s left arm from his shoulder…leaving the young god in shock. Yet his father, sent him a psychic impulse, a sudden overpowering will to serve with this man before him. So there, in a pool of blood and entrails, Aztek knelt before Bane and made a pact with his Master, rising up a Herald of Death, the Mark of Bane burned onto his back.

From that point on Aztek became Bane’s most trusted servant, as well as his most feared and in time his lost limb was replaced as he slept, by the now-legendary Hand of Death. He once foolishly saw it as a blessing as he believed it allowed him to control his curse but it did not, that was simply his childish dream. All that touched him WOULD suffer the consequences…their faces now flashed in his mind…Balazar, Amun, Grishnakh, the young girl whose life he had saved, his beloved sister and then it sunk in…what had he done?

Aztek’s eyes snapped open, less than a second had passed in this realm but an eternity had just played out in Aztek’s mind and now, now he knew who he truly was…he IS Death.

Chapter Eight: Fathers and Sons

As a son’s eyes locked with those of his father, more words were spoken in the silence than could ever have been if said aloud. However, Lord Chaos broke this silence with his voice that had manipulated more beings than were alive within the cosmos at this time, for he had been manipulating all within the universe for eons upon eons. “So, mother told you the histories, I guess I’m going to have to teach her to stay out of my business.” A wicked grin materialized on the god’s face but vanished just as quickly and a face expressing a false shock took its place, “Kill me you say? That’s a pity, I never thought I’d have to worry about a threat on my life from my own son.” Aztek was astonished, his father had known his thoughts as they formed, what was he capable of? He received his answer seconds later when his father’s voice interrupted his thoughts even though his lips did not move, “…a lot more than you will ever know.”

Balazar stood next to the Lord Chaos, rage hidden within his cowl, the fact that this foolish boy had bested Death, it was shameful, especially since Balazar deserved the title more than Aztek ever would. Almost instantaneously after such thoughts passed through his mind, Balazar felt a rush of strength and energy overwhelming him and he began gasping for air. Soon collapsing to his knees, he thought he was going to die but then…it stopped…and Balazar began to inhale and exhale rapidly, a voice now audible to him, “Until my son is ready, Balazar shall rule over you.” At first Balazar was astonished, he was Death? But soon he realized this was not freely his, he was now indebted to Him, just as all the others before him had been.

A voice rang in his head, nearly deafening him, but the words were not spoken, rather they were emitted, “I granted you this power but if you do not want me to take it back you must follow my commands whenever I give them to ye…dare to disobey me and you will beg for death.” Figuring out the antics of Chaos rather quickly, Balazar thought his response instead of vocalizing it. “What is it you want with me master?” He looked up at Lord Chaos who was talking his son but at the same time speaking to Balazar, “I have a simple mission for you, one I am certain you will find pleasurable. I need you to sentence one of your servants to the evils of your chamber, for reasons I need not share.”

Balazar took this in stride and responded once again, “Which one my Lord?” The question was answered with only a single word as Balazar found himself unwillingly turning his head to gaze upon the delicate woman who always hid in the back of the huddled group of servants, “Her.” Balazar nodded, he knew not the woman’s name but he had always believed her to be inadequate, hopefully she would die, just like the girl Grishnakh had dealt with. Then, without warning, the Throne of Death became vacant and the lounging god was gone, he had done what he had came for and so left the same way he had arrived, in a cloud of red.

As soon as Aztek saw his father vanish, he became even more outraged, the coward was avoiding confrontation but in this his father would fail, for Aztek would not rest, or so he told himself in the beginning, until Chaos was defeated. So, for months Aztek remained in solitude, no longer in the safety of the shadows, he was risking exposure...all for vengeance. But after a few hundred days of ceaseless labor, he decided he would rest, for the exhaustion was overwhelming and so he, like his mother had done ages ago, went to find peace in a mountain cave. Unbeknownst to him however, it was the same cave he had been born in, the same cave his mother died in, but unlike her, he did find rest in this cave, in fact he fell into a deep sleep, a sleep filled with visions. These visions revealed every secret hidden from man, countless lies were laid bare but of all these things he did learn, he only remembers a single message, the last message. This message was given to him by someone who came to him in his dreams, someone he would never have expected to see, someone who knew him just as well, if not better, than he did...for it was the one person who had ever cared for him, his sister.

"Brother, I know of your quest, to kill our father, and though I fear for you, I support the thought behind it all and so after much debate within myself I have decided to tell you the whereabouts of Chaos for without my help you shall never find it. For spells have made it hidden from those who have not been granted the Sight, with the Sight you shall be able to sense it at all times as it does travel across the globe quite often and often spontaneously." Aztek looked up at his sister, truly grateful for everything, "But what? What is this thing I will be sensing?" She smiled back at him as she slowly began to fade, "Why it is my birthplace, a garden, a garden called Eden." Aztek moved forward to embrace her, asking her one last question, "Dear sister...what is your name?" But he grasped nothing but air for she was gone before he had even finished asking his question.

Aztek suddenly jerked into the waking world, but there was no light, no light to be seen, perhaps he had not slept as long as he thought, so, getting to his feet rather clumsily he felt along the cave wall until he stood in the entrance. He felt a light breeze upon his face, but still only saw darkness, had the moon and stars been put out for the night he wondered...but then, a warming sensation began to emerge on his face, he could feel the heat of the sun slowly warming his body...but then, if the sun was in the sky, why was all he could see shadow...and then, for one of the few times the emotion was known to Aztek, he was afraid, for such a disability, an impairment had always been foreign to him, sure he had lost a limb...but that did not matter, blindness however would destroy him, and his quest.

Yet what he did not realize is what had happened was a blessing rather than a curse for what he had received was the Sight. The Sight was a strange magic as it cloaks its user’s eyes in shadows, allowing them to see nothing except for what it is they seek and so as Aztek swiveled his head around, there it was. Leagues away, yet to him seen as if it was in broad daylight…was the beautiful garden known as Paradise.

So Aztek began his final journey to bring an end to his father’s realm, however, he never found himself fast enough to get to the garden before it would Travel, and so he trekked still for many months, without the shadows he was weak, but one day, something happened to Aztek as he came near to Eden, as if confirming that he had finally made it. A sinister voice spoke out to him, “So at last you have come to arrive at my the gateway to my son’s realm, he said you should be tested before ye could enter but I do not need to test you…” Aztek struggled to move, to escape the grasp of this unseen foe, “I can feel the darkness in your heart, I know of your intent.” The voice seemed even more devious than that of Chaos, “But you won’t even be able to put on a good show for me unless I enhance your Sight.” As if on cue, Aztek sensed some sort of change in his eyesight but he knew not what had been done for all still seemed to be shadow, but the voice answered this as Death loosened its hold on Aztek. “Now you shall see not only what you desire but the location of all beings whom you have harmed shall forever be known to you.” And so, the manifestation of darkness left, leaving behind a confused man with a new gift, a gift meant to hinder rather than aid.

After readjusting to his new Sight, Aztek couldn’t wait to see his father’s face, before he got his vengeance but once again he was stopped while heading to the gate by a voice. However, unlike the first voice, this one was beautiful and full of cheer, a voice that brought peace within his soul. At first he assumed it to belong to The Mother but she dismissed that assumption rather quickly, “Hello stranger, you probably cannot see me but I am the Gatekeeper and I will only let you pass if you do something for me.” The girl who if seen by Aztek would appear to be ten years old, was wearing many brilliant and vibrant colors. She sat atop the wall in which the gate had been built, her legs dangling above Aztek’s head.

“What is your command, m’ Lady?” Aztek asked as politely as he could, for he did not want to anger the only one who could grant him entrance to his father’s realm. The girl grinned as she leaped down twenty feet to land lightly on the ground directly at the left of Aztek, “I want you to play a game with me…” Aztek was a little surprised at this, that his father would protect his realm with this little girl and her games, their must be something more sinister behind it all. “…I want you to shoot this golden apple using the silver bow that I now hold in my hands, do that and I will grant you entrance.” Considering the fact that he could not see the bow, nor apple, or even her for that matter, he began to dread the task set before him. Still he would not give up and he took the bow as she set it in his hands along with three silver arrows. The girl then took off running, apple in hand and she yelled, “I hold the apple, shoot an arrow that pierces its flesh and the gate shall be opened.” Eagerly Aztek readied the bow and fired in the direction of her voice, for even if he did fell the girl, the apple would be his so no matter what he hit, he would win.

The Gatekeeper ran, laughing as she ran through the colorful forests until something happened and she cried out as she felt a jolt throughout her body, there was no pain but she looked down at her chest and saw the arrowhead protruding from her body, where her heart should have been. So she clasped her fingers around it and tore the arrow out of herself, laughing as her tissues healed rapidly, “Nice shot mister but the apple is in my hand, not my ribcage.” She turned and began skipping towards the cloaked figure, “Here, how about I stand still and you just concentrate, take your time, you only have two arrows left.” With that she became deathly silent and Aztek, completely unaware of all that had just taken place, fitted his second arrow to the string and pulled back. Hearing a muffled giggling he aimed for the direction of the sound once again and this time aimed at where he guessed her hand would be.

The girl watched the arrow fly through the air, headed directly for the apple in fact, but just before the two came into contact she casually moved her hand and instead of entering the apple, the arrow sunk deeply into the trunk of the tree behind her. The Gatekeeper scolded him, “You must concentrate, don’t be so hasty, your hurrying has wittled you down to your final arrow. If you don’t make it count, the gate shall forever be closed to you.” These words hit Aztek hard, if he were to misuse his last arrow, then…all he had fought for would be for naught and tyranny of his father would continue for all eternity.  And so, with the third arrow pulled back as far as the bow would allow, Aztek focused, staring at the blackness but wishing with all his soul that he could see the apple. As if on command, a golden orb slowly materialized within the darkness, the apple! A feeling of pride swept over Aztek as he let go of the bowstring and watched as the apple became transfixed on the final arrow.

The little girl smiled joyously and rushed Aztek, jumping on him and hugging his waist, “Thank you kind sir, you have finally freed me!” Her arms tightened around him as tears began to wet her cheeks, “I hope I can see you again one day.” she smiled, “but I shall keep my promise and open the gateway for you but don’t bother looking for your father, he’s just inside the gate…waiting for you.” Her smile faded, but she would not break her promise, even if it meant leading her savior to his doom. So she wove a web of magicks, an intricate spell that even the masters of sorcery could not fathom and with it she opened to Aztek, the Garden of Eden. Aztek could not see the girl but still he spoke to her as he entered Paradise, “Thanks, and don’t worry, one day, we shall meet again.” She smiled at these comforting words and with one last giggle of excitement she was gone and the gate closed behind Aztek.

“My son, I have been expecting you.” Chaos spoke as if all was right in the world, “Enough with the formalities, I have come to kill you and I intend to do so now!” Drawing his own formidable blade Aztek could envision his father clearly standing before him and watched as the deviant immortal seemed almost hurt by the comment. “Must you always be so aggressive? I was going to give you a gift before we should fight you know, a look into the lives of all those you tried to help in this world, so you could know how much your loved.” Aztek was taken aback by this but in his moment of weakness he agreed and Chaos fashioned a portal in which anyone he desired to be, would be seen, and Aztek watched in horror as he saw how much of a curse he truly was.

The girl he had saved from Grisnakh was screaming in agony in her loneliness, in her sickness that was overtaking her, chained in one of the prison cells in the realm of shadow, how she got there he didn’t ask, he just watched in terror to see what would be coming next. He watched as the woman he had saved from Bane’s wrath was now being brutally flogged under Balazar’s watchful eye, also his fault he was certain, but how anyone ever found out about what he had done for her, how could they…Chaos!  Aztek shouted at his father, “What kind of twisted game is this?” Chaos answered, “I’m just showing you what you are, how much you are plaguing this world, that is all. You know that girl you just “rescued” from her duties, she is now living in a world where practicers of magick are hated and slaughtered, she has you to thank for that. Do you understand now? You do not deserve to draw breath and though I wished to use you further I see you are hopeless. So it was that me and your sister decided it was time for you to die.” Noticing Aztek’s shocked expression he grinned, “Oh, you didn’t know about your sister? The only reason she helped you was so that I could kill you, you’ve hurt her and now she wants you dead. So I must break it to you, if the very essence of  love can want you dead, you might as well just give up, no need to fight me, I’ll grant you peace.”

Aztek was now filled with emotion as his head hung low and he feel to his knees he was filled with rage, with depression, all this, it couldn’t be true, he couldn’t believe it, the suffering of the three was not his fault, nor did his sister hate him, it was just his father’s lies, his father trying to make him weak, because he feared the power within his son…but as he thought about it, he knew that every word his father spoke to him was true.Aztek was a monster, he began to dwell on this and during this moment of feeling utterly worthless that Aztek believed his purpose was revealed to him. If the only thing he was good at doing was bringing suffering, why not grant it to those he deemed worthy of it. So with a hard face, Aztek rose to his feet and looked deep into his father’s eyes., eyes filled with fear. “Stop, my son….” a gasp cut him off, for he felt a sensation that left his speechless as Aztek’s hand entered his stomach and then left it soon after, the entrails of his father in hand. It seemed that at the hands of Aztek, even gods were but mere mortals.

Chapter Nine: Seven Rings of Shadow

Part 1: The Seventh Gate

Aztek looked skyward, miles into the oblivion, but it seemed that the wall of shadow had no visible ending and that it went on forever. But the wall did not drive fear into his heart or discourage him, for he knew the true reason it had been erected, these fortifications were simply something for Balazar to hide behind. He believed that his magicks and servants would be able to protect him but Aztek knew better, all they would do is delay his justice, nothing more. Aztek had spent many months preparing for what was to come, training for the task now before him, for he knew the trials he would face. Balazar had fashioned his own Seven Rings of Hades, impassible shadow walls except for the iron door placed in each one, a door guarded by the servants of Balazar, who were dutifully bound to slay any who dared to enter. Although Aztek intended to harm as few of these Guardians as possible, he was quite ready to slay them as well, anything to achieve right. Staring at the shadowy expanse before himself Aztek grimly spoke, “It looks like at last we shall meet again Death.”

Amun knelt down at his post, he was the sole Guardian of the Seventh Gate, he was not proud of the title, nor did he want it for he despised the duties it entailed, yet still he simply gritted his teeth and did whatever his “master” demanded, for he knew disobedience would mean death for him…and without him to protect her, it would mean Grace suffering unimaginable evils. Even now she was constantly being punished by Balazar a pattern that had begun ever since the disappearance of Aztek. Balazar would often order for Grace to be flogged and then beaten every night only to be chained to the door Amun guarded during the day. The pain she went through was barely livable and often she would fall into unconsciousness and Amun would be at her side, tending to her wounds and trying to free her from her chains but it was all to no avail. Even now she hung from the chains by her shackled wrists, her unconscious suspended body weight causing further strain on her hands. Blood stained her ragged, white clothing but her skin had been washed by Amun who now left his beloved to rest, if it could be called that.

Looking out into the void Amun was forced to temporarily abandon caring for Grace for he could see a figure approaching and he knew if any were to get by him, it was she that would pay for it. Withdrawing his two enchanted scimitars, Amun stared coldly into the distance at the traveler, normally murder was against his way, but he was willing to do anything if it meant protecting the mother of his child. Or at least he thought he was willing to do anything, that was until he recognized the traveler, for it was none other than the man tht had rescued both he and his daughter from Bane’s wrath…Aztek. Amun shouted out as the god approached, “Aztek! I am indebted to you but still I must warn you, you cannot come this way, try to enter and I will be forced to end your life!”

Aztek smiled at these words as he continued to walk and he withdrew his own mighty blade, the shadow sword. “Kill me? Perhaps you are more foolish than  thought, I marked you as a reasonable man, but don’t fret, just because I respect you doesn’t mean I’ll show you mercy. For you see, your missing the big picture in all this, you fight for those you love, but I fight for the benefit of all.” As these words escaped his lips, Aztek vanished, becoming one with the shadow and in a fraction of a second he reformed next to Amun and brought down his heavy blade. Yet things were not in Aztek’s favor for Amun himself was an expert swordsman and swiftly raised both his blades to block Aztek’s sword. To some it may have seemed the much larger sword would break the twin scimitars yet it was not to be for it seemed Amun’s sheer willpower allowed him to survive for the moment, holding back the Blade of the Shadow Slayer.

However, this mere show of the power he held within himself filled Amun with even more confidence as he began to gain the upper hand in the duel, leading to him eventually using his tactical skill to wrest the shadow blade from Aztek’s hands. Amun was now weary but he showed no sign of it as he looked deep into Aztek’s cowl. “This is your last chance…” When Aztek said nothing in response Amun sighed, “than I’m sorry but your life is forfeit.” Amun twisted his body to the right, his feet rooted firmly and then, in a split second he spun back into his former position, causing the blade in his hand to bore deep into Aztek’s chest. Letting go of the scimitar, he left it burrowed in the man who gasped as he stumbled back a few steps.

Aztek felt the cold steel of the enchanted scimitar cut through his flesh, his bone, his lungs, but all he did was smile…raising his left hand he pulled down his cowl so Amun could see his face. “These emotions, these emotions you feel…do you not it is these emotions that give me strength?” Amun was confused, what was going on? No! They were just a dying man’s last words, nothing more, but then…then he felt it, his anger, his pain, his weakness, all of it was being pulled from within him and being absorbed by…Aztek! Aztek smiled as his foe came to see the inevitable. The Son of Chaos than clasped both his shadowy and human fingers around the hilt of the scimitar and he pulled it out from himself. “So now you get it, don’t you? I am here to take the world’s pain, not give it…unfortunately it is too late for you, the only way I can grant you peace…” he twirled the bloodied blade in his shadowy hand and swung it quite forcefully at a horizontal angle, just above Amun’s shoulders. Aztek watched grimly as the noble man’s severed head fell to the ground just before his body collapsed as well.

Placing the crimson scimitar at the man’s side Aztek knelt down by the body and whispered, “You may not be proud of the deeds you did in life but know that you shall be remembered as a man who found the greatest honor in death.” With these words he touched the body and rose again as it turned to dust, only to kneel at the door and look sadly into the face of the woman he had once risked himself to protect. Sliding his mortal fingers under her chin he raised her head so it was facing his, though her eyes were closed. “I wish I could grant you the final peace as well, an end to all this…but alas, I cannot, for your spirit makes me weak.” Smiling, a smile of bliss, he moved forward and softly kissed her cheek, than he set her head down on her chest once again and grasped the chains that held her to the iron door, supporting her body with his mortal hand as the chains became dust so she would not fall.

Than he took his hands and gently placed them where one would upon a newborn babe and cradling her in his arms he walked…the world shifting around them until it became the fruitful paradise that was his realm. Setting her down at the base of the mighty tree in the center of the garden he placed his fingers to her forehead and…manipulated her memories, stealing the painful ones to add to his own strength, leaving her with nothing but joyful memories of the many beings she had met in her lifetime, but predominantly he left them focused on  Amun, the man who had given his life for hers.

Part 2: The Sixth Gate

Seemingly oblivious to the shifting reality all around himself, Aztek approached the solid iron door that stood directly in his path and with merely a brush of his fingertips turned it to naught but powder. Yet what was on the other side was the last thing he ever expected to see...for in his line of sight stood the Guardians of the Sixth Gate, two young women they were, locked in an embrace. The taller of the two he did recognize, for she was the red-haired daughter of the wood, silently he watched as she gracefully planted a kiss on the cheek of the other girl. The girl smiled bashfully, but not as a young lover, rather as one would smile after their hero just congratulated them, a smile of admiration and joy.

Aztek interrupted this tender moment with a forced laugh, "So this is what Death puts between himself and his enemies? Perhaps he is more of a fool than I ever thought." These insulting words caused both women to turn their heads to him but it was the younger who spoke. "Don't let what you've seen deceive you...she and I have both been proclaimed mighty warriors time and time again, for our foes fall before us like wheat before the scythe." Aztek knew these words to simply be said to instill fear into him and indeed for a moment the monster fear reared its ugly head within Aztek, but not because of the words but because he sensed something within this girl, two combating forces of power, a power so great he had never encountered anything like it before.

In a swift, smooth motion, the black-haired young woman pulled the hood of her cloak over her head...but not before Aztek's eyes looked into hers, her piercing green eyes, her most distinguishing feature. "That speech of yours would surely have made me tremble except for one little thing," he scoffed, "I am DESTINED to become Death...so I have already won!" Raising his Shadow Hand, palm facing the girls, he peered deeply into the black abyss that was her hidden facial features, "Besides...she has my Mark, the Curse fills her veins..." Aztek said as he pointed his finger at the green-clad woodland goddess, and at that point he realized that he had lost control, this was not him, he could never harm her, it seemed a subconscious self had taken control and was ready to destroy these two without regret.

The girl garbed in the hooded cloak turned to her companion and cried out, "Lya!" However, she could only watch as the red-haired woman collapsed to her knees, her strength forcefully drained from her body. Lya's face contorted as the immeasurable agony tore through her body, her eyes becoming black, shadowy tendrils spilling out of the orifices about her head. Still, with her last gasp of air she whispered, "I love you Alexandra..." Than she screamed, a terrible scream, slowly being dematerialized she was for her end had come it seemed. Only one, only one knew the whereabouts of where she was being sentenced, and he had no intent of ever releasing her...though admittedly for quite the opposite reasons that a witness to this event would assume.

"Now for you." Aztek looked at Alexandra, with the intent of sapping her of all her rage, all her pain, all the emotions brought about by what he had just done but he found he could not. For he was not strong enough, he could not tame the darkness that thrived within her soul, nor could he taint the equally powerful light that fought for dominance within her. Alexandra looked back at him, a smile slowly forming on her lips, the Master of Shadows had met his match. "For me? Ha! You voice expresses a confidence that is not there. Normally I would have mercy on you but what you did to my sister warrants eternal damnation."

Her feet slowly lifted off the solid shadows upon which the two had stood and her hood fell to he shoulders as a conjured wind whipped her hair across her face. Aztek was dumbfounded and silently looked on as the girl began to release the mighty powers dwelling deep within herself, and in a flash of light, a premonition of sorts came to Aztek, possibly a side effect of this energy release, and in that moment he knew who the victor would be. "Alexandra, your spirit greatly intrigues me, I should like to feel the power you possess, but of course I want to be able to keep it in check..." His black eyes once again locked with her green-irised eyes, speaking volumes and than, he walked. Fear swept across Alexandra's face as the words sunk in, she had lost control, she had failed Lya...she had failed herself, she had let the shadows take over.

Aztek commenced his journey, unhindered by the levitating being high above his head, they would meet again but now they both had other agendas.

Part 3: The Fifth Gate

Cassandra gently pressed her lips to his, blissfulness overtaking her mind, body, and soul, ecstacy washing over her. These feelings of delight grew stronger as he mirrored her show of affection, their lips now locked in ssion. Fell victim to love's seductive kiss the two had, there was no escape from its grasp now or so she hoped but wherever there is hope, there is someone to break them. Little had she known that someone would arrive to interrupt their precious moment, none other than the destroyer of hopes himself.

"I'm beginning to sense a pattern here, it seems as if my sister has changed this world, made you all weak. Now it is ruled by love rather than hate..." His face became stone as he continued, whether speaking to himself or to them was unknown but it did not matter, for either way it betrayed his thoughts, his beliefs. "But no amount of love shall forgive Death of his sins, forgiveness is for the weak, judgment shall be his reward instead."

The lovers swiftly turned to identify the source of the voice and the man whispered under his breath, "Aztek..." Cassandra looked at him quizzically but before she could even speak, the figure interrupted yet again. "Do not fret children, continue your romance, I'm not here to disturb you, in truth I'm simply here to pass through the door which your leaning upon, I do not want to involve you however, for this war is not yours..." His voice suddenly dropped in pitch, menacing the two now with the foreboding it brought about, "Although, should you choose to get involved, I will not hesitate to remove both of you from the equation, by any means necessary."

Cassandra caught on, at least somewhat and almost instantaneously stepped away from the door, not out of fear but simply put, because she had no true allegiance to Balazar. But her lover remained steadfast at his post, for reasons unknown to her at the time. "Ah, so it comes down to this again, Aztek. Too bad this time things will be different, I won't allow you to leave this place alive."

Aztek responded, his face devoid of emotion, his voice monotone, "I hope that's a promise because I have no wish to defeat you when your not even trying. You have no idea how much I have grown in power since we last fought, the crowd knows your name because you are always thinking about ther approval but it is I that they should be in awe of, for I shall bring the world to its knees and you will bow before me Legend."

Predicting the end to their time of sharing words with one another, Legend began to guess the next moves of his opponent, coming up with a counter to each one. But hearing Aztek’s words, his claims, brought out an anger in Legend, replacing rationality with rage. This was his downfall. Rushing at Aztek before the opportune moment had arrived, Legend ruined all chance of success he had. Fumbling with the hilt of his blade as he ran, tugging at it in the hopes he could remove the blade from its sheath, but to no avail, anger was his curse.

When he looked back up Aztek was gone and before he could even think to react, the Master of Shadows solidified inches from where Legend was, his shadow hand raised and ready to grab the man. In a mere second the scene changed completely, from Legend running at Aztek, to Aztek holding him several feet off the ground by his neck, utilizing his curse in a way that was slowly decomposing the flesh upon Legend’s, causing the Guardian to cry out. “I was hoping for more of a challenge from you old friend, this is rather disappointing but I suppose I shouldn’t have expected much from a pitiful fool like yourself.” He smiled sadistically, “But as a consellation prize at least I get to hear your screams, your agony is music to my ears.”

Legend struggled, flailing and kicking as he was suspended in the air, the flesh from his face literally falling to the ground, leaving behind a grotesque hideously scarred appearance, but that shouldn't matter, Aztek was intent on ending his life, he just wanted to do it the slow, fun way. But a shout interrupted his pleasure and he dropped Legend to the ground, turning to see the speaker, who ironically was ordering him to do what he had just done. "Put him down you monster! I swear I will kill you unless you leave this place now!" Aztek looked at her face, looking into her and what he saw was a sweet and gentle spirit, and so he simply laughed, "I've seen what your man can do, just stay out of this unless you want to end up permanently disfigured like him."

Her eyes flared, a fire of passionate anger akakening deep within her and she ran at Aztek, diving down just before she reached him so she could roll by him and recover her lover's blade, something she was exceptionally skilled with. Before Aztek could prepare himself she rushed him, forcing him back as he had no weapon to block with, he thought she was simply trying to push him away from her Legend but when she would not relent he realized he would actually have to fight her, and knew not what to do. This was one of those times, one of them, when being cold to others was extremely difficult, could he allow himself to harm her?

When she noticed he was not putting up a fight she shouted in her rage as she shredded his cloak with her blade, tearing flesh, drawing blood and she grew even angrier, "Afraid to fight back?" Pushing him backwards, she continued to mock him, knowing this match was hers. Aztek actually became lost at that moment, lost in what to do as he kept backing away from the fierce warrior woman, thoughts racing through his mind, what to do? "You want through that door so badly, than you'll have to defeat me!" She shouted and unintentionally aided the confused Aztek, reminding him in which direction the door was...behind himself! "Actually, I think you just defeated yourself..." he grinned and then turned and made a dash for it, catching her off guard and leaving her standing, dumbounded, he had passed through the door and he knew she could not follow, she had a loved one to attend to, things were finally going his way he thought and then he looked up and gasped.

Part 4: The Fourth Gate

The black-haired goddess of seduction smiled, almost flirtatiously, as she bent down to pull up her leather pants, the pants served but a single purpose, not comfort of course but rather to accent her already beautifully curvaceous body. Having brought her pants up to her waist she began to fiddle with the silver clasp, not that it was needed. The pants were already enough of a snug fit that them wrapping around her ankles was unlikely, but still…she loved the belt and it never hurt to like the way you looked, this thought made her grin, two fang-like incisors clearly visible thanks to their contrast with the blood-red lips.

Now standing upright Lilith turned her head to look over he shoulder and almost broke into laughter, the innocence of Jak often amused her. She had taken the boy in as her own after, after the darkness overtook his mind, and cared for him but she could not change his honor no matter how often she told him she was proud to show off her body, still he would always give her privacy. She wanted to call out to him, to make him turn just to show he needn’t feel awkward but she respected his wishes and let him be.

Turning to face forward once again and resume dressing herself, Lilith stood in naught but her footwear, leather pants and red lace brassiere. Despite all her beaming and seductiveness in what she was doing it was doubtful she would be pleased to find she had an onlooker in the shadows, mouth agape, so Aztek decided to remain in them, at least till she was done…then he could perhaps seduce her himself…and then kill her of course.

Aztek smirked as he watched her put on her crimson blouse, he knew of why she wore crimson for he had heard the tales of Lilith, a woman with supernatural talent and a blood fetish, on Earth she had been called a vampire but she denied any of the rumors for she did not believe in them…she saw herself as naught but a fallen angel that had been condemned to live amongst mortals…no one knew the truth.

Lilith finally finished buttoning up her blouse, leaving it a little open near the neck of course to show some skin and then she simpered as she looked up, her eyes locked with Aztek’s, “You going to come out any time soon?”

Aztek just stood there silently for a moment, wondering how she had seen him, it seemed her pheromones were making him prone to making slip-ups, but no matter, his mission could wait, he would enjoy the company of this fine, young damsel, well actually based upon the looks of her he highly doubted she was a maiden of any sort, but it made her seem all the sexier if he pretended she was. “I am honored to have had your beauty grace my eyes mistress.” He said as he stepped forward, bowing his head slightly to her and cracking a smile.

She laughed as she replied, “I’m sure it was…but…unfortunately you won’t be getting any more fun with me tonight, I know why you’re here and I can’t allow myself to look weak where my companions have failed. Placing her hand upon his chest she slid it gracefully across his body as she spoke, her silver tongue at work so that even when she did threaten Aztek with death he found himself in a place of utter bliss.

Mockingly frowning he looked at her, “That’s too bad, I was really hoping we could both enjoy ourselves, forget about all the lives we’ve taken…but I should have expected you to be difficult.” In mid-sentence a shadow dagger fashioned itself in his hand and he raised it, to stab her would be most people’s guess if the saw it, but to him it was merely foreplay, he knew she lusted for feelings of pleasure as he himself did, it could not be denied.

Yet it seemed not all were as understanding of this as Aztek seemed to be, for as he raised the blade a young child seemed to materialize before Aztek, also garbed in a cloak of shadow, hooded and with eyes of red glaring through the cowl. “Leave my sister alone you vile monster!!” He shouted out as he used his own powers to disintegrate the dagger Aztek had held. Lilith turned around swiftly to see Jak, and she gasped, he was losing control…what had she done.

Aztek of course was naïve to this relationship and thought the small child pathetic, “Leave us now boy…or you will truly anger me and I will be forced to dispose of you.” But Jak was resilient in his standing and began pulling in the shadows, his power levels rising exponentially…however, Aztek was the Master of Shadows and he merely grimaced as he turned the very darkness the boy was absorbing against him and with a scream of pain Jak fell to the ground, his body disintegrating… “SISTER!! PLEASE…HELP ME!!” Lilith could not even move in her shock and simply watched, not knowing what to do but tears fell from her eyes as she heard her brother’s last words… “I love you…” and then he was nothing, nothing but a memory.

Lilith was screaming inside, it seemed her love for feelings of delight had blinded her to what was going on, made her slow to act, she had failed him, failed the one who had trusted her to always be there. Collapsing to her knees she cried out and then simply began to weep…after what seemed to be hours for the now turned-off Aztek he heard Lilith whisper, “I love you too hun.”

Than he watched, devoid of emotion as she turned to him, her eyes criss-crossed with blood-filled veins…”And so I shall avenge you brother!” She lunged at Aztek from her crouching position, the strength in her legs providing enough force to slam him into the shadowed wall behind him, a blow that would have instantly killed a mere man. But she was not done with him, violently she tore out the knife that had been tucked in the strap of her bra, the cold steel sliding across her back, drawing blood, ripping her blouse, but she felt no pain, only rage.

Repeatedly she thrust the blade into Aztek, his face, his chest, his limbs, but predominantly his eyes as she screamed, “Never again shall you look upon me but you will remember what you did see for I will be the last thing you ever know!” Embedding the weapon in his heart she then stepped back, hair in disarray, blood sprayed over herself, but unexhausted.

For several minutes she just watched Aztek, she had heard of his habit of resurrecting from the dead but it seemed to be nothing more than a myth she told herself after the wait and her seeing no sign of life. So she turned, and began walking, to be alone, to grieve over her loss, to feel the pain she had caused Jak but she was startled as she heard a voice behind her, a sinister voice dripping with the essence of death… “That all you got?”

Lilith turned to look at an unhooded Aztek, into his eyes of blackness and gasped, a shadowy stake thrust into her midsection, protruding from her back. “Pathetic…” Aztek spat upon Lilith’s face as she lost all muscle control and crashed to the floor, blood pouring from her orifices as if it had been her very life source.

Aztek simply walked on, the truth of Lilith did not concern him, the fate Balazar would suffer was his sole purpose…

Part 5: The Third Gate

Aztek strode confidently now, his perfect memory matching the faces of the Guardians with the Heralds he had known of the past, allowing him to figure out which two were remaining, two individuals he need not fear, merely Grishnakh the biggest, literally, idiot Aztek had ever encountered and a busty, blonde girl…nothing to worry about.

Smiling as he walked through the iron door, Aztek saw that his guesses were indeed correct and to make matters even more convenient it seemed the two were busy, paying Aztek no heed as he walked on, the fool Grishnakh was trying to win the beautiful woman over, why he hadn’t just taken her for himself Aztek did not know, nor did he care, though the pleas fell upon his ears even though he tried to block them out. “Tara, please, just one night? I’ll do whatever you ask, just please do this for me!” The buffoon was now on his knees, though still he had to look down at her, the man was a beast, both in body and mind.

Knowing he could have gotten through the gate without any more distractions he sighed as his inner pride awoke and he forced himself to stop, just so he could mock Grishnakh one more time. “HEY DUMBASS! SHE OBVIOUSLY DETESTS YOU, AT LEAST PRETEND TO HAVE SOME DIGNITY!” When Grishnakh turned, within an instant his eyes focused on Aztek, blackening with rage and he instinctively rushed the much smaller man.

Aztek sighed, “You have a death wish Grishnakh? Do you not remember you are infected with my curse? You cannot touch me.” Motionless he stood, as if awaiting the mighty juggernaut to collapse in screams of agony. Nothing happened. Well, not what Aztek was expecting that is, for Grishnakh continued to run, shadows becoming visible in his veins, filling his bloodstream, killing him, but not a sign of this pain showed on his face, just rage, the monster’s wrath was feeding him, nothing else mattered, not pain, nothing.

Aztek’s eyes suddenly filled with fear as Grishnakh continued his charge and smashed into the Master of Shadows sending the two crashing into the shadow barrier in which the iron door was set. Bones snapped, blood came forth in spurts, and Grishnakh was just getting started…grasping Aztek’s right arm, Grishnakh angrily ripped at it, tearing off the entire appendage from its joint. “YOU ARE, NOTHING!!!” Grishnakh spat in the face of the Son of Chaos as he bellowed his anger and Aztek fought hard to retain his composure, his false confidence.

Aztek’s mind was utterly overwhelmed with the feeling of having his arm torn off of his body and he screamed and swore inside his head but his face wore nothing but a grimace and a few beads of sweat. This angered Grishnakh even further and he began to pulverize The Dark One with his clenched fists. Calling out the monster made things even worse for the hopeless Aztek, “Tara! I have prepared for you a gift!”

In a split second the busty blonde took to the air and flew at superhuman speeds at the two, alighting softly upon her feet right next to Grishnakh, her eyes locked on the broken body that had been full of life and confidence and pride not too long ago. Aztek croaked, “What is she going to do? Give me a little entertainment before you try and finish me off?”

A harsh laughter than erupted from the throat of the monster, “You are a fool Aztek, you truly are, what you have done has brought along consequences even I would fear, Tara’s rage.” Slowly, fearfully, Aztek twisted his neck to look at the young woman and he wanted to cry out, her hair now began to change, from blonde to the color of pitch. Her eyes, they filled with an uncontainable fury and she lunged at Aztek, beating the defeated god, one punch at a time, each hit bringing about a spray of blood and a shattering of bone.

After what felt like an eternity to the immortal, Tara backed off, exhausted panting clearly heard as she held back, her anger was dissipating, stamina fading, weariness settling in. Lying on his back at their feet, his neck propped up on the wall he could look at their faces, his eyes barely able to focus. A half smile grew on his face, “I cannot save you from what is about to happen…I have no control over it…its just a defense mechanism of sorts…so, I apologize.” He grinned, broken, bloodied teeth seen clearly and then he was gone, everything was gone, Aztek had burst, energy spilling out from him that death could not contain, and all…was gone.

Part Six: The Second Gate

Tiny golden orbs of energy slowly began to condense in the atmosphere, merging with one another to form a steadily growing orb of much larger proportions, the orb was undoubtedly alive though how a sentient orb came to be she could not guess, but for some reason she had a distinct feeling that she knew the being now forming before her, like she had perhaps interacted with it in her youth?

The Daughter of Chaos sat on her beautifully carved throne, sure it was dark as pitch and made of the essence of her grandfather, Death, but nonetheless it spoke of grace and beauty, of power and dominance, no matter who ruled this realm, it was quite clear that they were wrapped around the finger of this woman, her father's uncanny ability to manipulate all those around him had not been wasted on his children, nay, it had proven to be quite a useful skill, one that she enjoyed taking advantage of.

Normally she would have chosen to call some lesser servant to take care of this orb, get rid of it and leave her to her peaceful relaxation and thought-processing but as she felt out for their minds with her own, she found not a single one of them could be summoned, some were deceased, some were missing, some in extreme states of pain or stress, some were in disarray, and then it dawned on her, this orb, this orb before her had once been the form of the one who had taken out all the Guardians, the one that was obviously plotting to take her out next.

Probing the thing's inner being, she sought out to reveal its identity, to learn its weakness, to dismantle it, to bring the determined indivdual to their knees but she could not find anything. It had power rivaling her own, how was that possible, she was the child of a god! Outraged and yet afraid she began to probe deeper, pour out more of her power and than she knew...it was too late. The orb began drawing in the powers she poured into it, she was feeding it and it began to swell and change shape and color, from gold it went to the black of the darkest midnight. Slowly it began to take on the form of an unclothed man, every part of his being was black yet still defined, every muscle, every feature clearly visible to the naked eye.

Death's Widow gasped and violently whispered, "Aztek?! How is this possible?! You cannot do this, it is forbidden!" Her brother's face was devoid of emotion, not a single sign that he had even heard her words or cared what they were...he had gone rogue, his mission was all that mattered, familial ties, laws of old, they meant nothing to him, simply vengeance.

"Stop now brother! You must not go any further! I swear I will slay you unless you cease your action NOW!" Truthfully it was a bluff, she was working hard to conceal her trembling, she knew she could not stop her brother but perhaps her cries would snap him out of what he was doing, perhaps her fake innocence and false sense of wanting what was best for everyone would help the delusional brother of her's see his young sister that had so often cared for him, rather than the one that had betrayed him to their father, in her hopes to have him slaughtered. Normally she wouldn't have minded he see her for what she was, but at this moment, she knew, there was no way she could stand against him.

Her fears were soon realized as Aztek came to stand within arm's length of his sister, a fact he further proved by reaching out with his own right arm and clasping the fingers of his hand around her throat as he began to lift her off the ground with ease, her legs flailing wildly, sure she could escape his grasp, but why bother...he would simply use more of his power and the pain she would suffer would be worse, perhaps he would make her death quick and painless. Deep down inside she had given up but still, she mocked hope and bade the man who was one of her own blood, "Brother...we can settle this...no one needs to die...don't let yourself become...your...father."

Aztek's consciousness began to return, his humanity once again becoming a part of himself, but as he looked up into his sister's face, the hate in his eyes did not grow dull, rather it intensified, now he remembered who she was, what she had done, and he felt an urge to snap her neck, to slaughter her right there, but the words sunk in, taking a toll on him, his father, how could he let himself become the one he had sworn to defy...his grip loosened, his fingers opened and the red-haired woman collapsed in a heap at his feet.

Stepping over her, Aztek did not look back but he let his words embed themselves in her mind, "One day, we WILL settle this, my dear Magdala...and on that day, only one of us shall leave with their life."

Part 7: The Throne Room

Balazar lounged in his shadowy throne, draped over it, so still one might almost think him dead. Of course, that person would have to be ignoring the fact that the very walls surrounding him, everything in this realm that had form, was being held together with his mind…when he died, it wouldn’t be a secret. His eyes were locked on the wall before him, there was no iron door as there was within the other walls, no one was to penetrate into the Chamber of Death without him allowing it, but of course it’s rather difficult to stop the very Master of Shadows from getting through a wall of shadow. At least Balazar refused to give up. Point for him.

Staring with dead eyes Death focused all his energies on the wall, but it was to no avail… Watch was all that he could do as the wall seemed to suddenly give birth to a man, the very manifestation of this plane, a man with but a single purpose, to bring Balazar to his knees. Yet Death still managed to not let his fear show. Point number two. “Aztek…” He was silenced by a raised hand, “No. No pleading, no begging, no negotiations, you are going to die this day, the least you can do is die with what’s left of your honor still intact.”It was evident something was troubling Aztek, guilt that he meant to justify with the death of the man before him. The fact that he had slaughtered and destroyed so many innocents, all because of this one man, it was horrific, and ironically for that reason, for Balazar there would be no second chances.

Of course Balazar was praying to Death that he would not need any second chances, but of course there is little wisdom in praying to a deity that your foe has bested, too bad for Balazar that fear clouds the mind, giving it false hopes, giving it power. A wicked smile, hiding his apprehensiveness, spread across the man’s face as he unleashed a psionic strike of epic proportions.

Aztek stumbled back a few steps from the sheer strength of the hit, his face contorted by the agony, but he was undamaged, his willpower was his strength, and it could not be stopped, not by one as pathetic as Balazar that is, only one who relied upon themselves would even stand a chance, relying upon the environment, on weapons, these were routes to failure. Aztek's deadened eyes stared into the very depths of Balazar's being, scouring his soul, uncovering his fears, making him weak. "Is that all you have got for me...Death." The last word was spoken in mockery, for both of them knew who was superior, who was Death, who was going to be victorious.

"I guess I might as well just kill you now, end your humiliation, but than again, I don't owe you any favors, its fun to watch you squirm." Balazar glared at the oncoming monster and in a last ditch effort channeled all of his mystical energies through the conduit that was his item but it proved futile. Merely batting it away with a small wall of shadow Aztek looked about ready to bury his face in his palm, "Fool...you do realize this is the realm of shadows, not magic, shadows hold all the power in this realm, why have you not learned to wield them as I? Afraid to play with something possessing a life of its own?" Swiftly he shot out a shadow dagger at Balazar, embedding itself in his throat, the man fell to his knees, now at the base of his throne, at Aztek's feet.

Still scrambling to his hands and knees Balazar refused to give up and pulled the dagger from his throat. A third and final point. He fled from Aztek's wrath, blood filling his lungs, choking him causing Aztek to sigh, "I gave you the chance to die with your dignity and this is what I get? Pathetic." He spat out the last word and then disappeared, riding the shadows until he reformed before Balazar whose own speed, his cowardice is what caused his gut to have Aztek's outstretched arm pass through it, his entrails now held in Aztek's fingers, drenched in blood, while Aztek's arm was the only thing supporting his body, he had been drained of life, it was over.

Shaking his head the Master of Shadows vanished, not even staying to watch as the walls slowly disintegrated, as the Realm was left leaderless, not taking the throne that was his by right, for that was not what he had come here for, what he had come here for was done and he planned on never returning to the Realm of Shadows again, but plans change, and many years later he would regret being so haste in his leaving...for Balazar may have died that day...but he had been a master of both magic and death...more powerful than Aztek could have ever known, a secret he had kept well hidden, for who would expect a coward of being mighty?

Chapter 10: League of Assassins

Magdala sat stiffly in her ornate throne, scarlet lips, deep red hair, ruby form-fitting dress that didn’t even reach mid-thigh. She looked like she was ready to seduce a multitude of men but in fact that was the farthest thought from her mind. It was actually her attire of godhood, as the goddess of love she had taken it to the next level and became the sexual desire of both men and women alike. Today however, she had only two things on her mind…the first was figuring out what she had in store for her brother; the second was to stop her own trembling that came over her whenever she recalled her last reunion with him.

Feeling a disturbance in the shadow dome she had erected to hide herself from the recovering Heralds, she began to sense one of them felt it their privilege to interrupt her solitude. Furiously she looked up, but the one standing before her was Legend, a fellow trickster and deceiver, a kindred heart, he was closer than family, and for that reason her rage faded, he could stay as long as he wanted. She smiled at him but he did not return the gesture, half the flesh from his face was gone, his perfect complexion tarnished. “I can heal you, you know.”

“Yes…” he glared, not at her though his eyes were locked on her, no he was glaring through her, as if at some invisible manifestation of everything he hated was standing before his eyes. “…I do know. The scars however, are left to remind myself that me and Aztek have a score to settle. I swear that I will destroy all he has and ever loved, than…I’ll kill him.” Confident he was in himself, not just in the fact that he thought he could best a god, but the fact that he did not except his Mistress to be angry, when she in fact was one of the things Aztek had loved.

The truth was she did not fear him, and the two felt an unspoken pact would grant her life, how long that would last, could only be guessed. The two were than interrupted as a black-haired Cassandra rushed into the sphere as well, to stand behind her man, she looked slightly hurt that Legend did not even greet her, the two had always been about romance, but rage can blind a man to what he truly desires. Still, Cassandra tried to hide her sadness and bowed gracefully before Magdala, kneeling at the foot of the throne and kissing the back of her hand.

“No need for formalities my dear Cassandra, we are all family here.” As if on cue, a pool of blood next to the Seat of Magdala that had previously gone unnoticed began to bubble and boil violently. Emerging from this pool, slowly, as if being raised up out of it like it was a hole in the floor, the naked form of the buxom and beautiful Lilith appeared. Once she was fully formed, the blood was gone, it had once again become flesh, Lilith than approached the foot of the throne.

Draping herself over Magdala, she locked lips with her, sharing a passionate kiss with her beloved. Unashamed in the presence of the two behind them, seeing as she knew they lusted for her as well, and she liked to make them suffer in this way. At last, after what seemed to be several minutes of kissing, Lilith returned to stand by her lover, the two smiling mischievously with one another. Yet Lilith had some sense of respect for her companions and as to avoid giving any more temptations she stepped behind the throne, soon emerging with a matching red leather brassiere and pants, which actually managed to make her even more tantalizing.

Magdala spoke again, telepathically to all within the realm of shadow, “Now…who else survived.” Within seconds a giant of a man and a curvaceous beauty entered as one and spoke in unison, “We did your majesty.” The man continued as she went silent, “I am Grishnakh and this is Tara, we are all that’s left but we are powerful and would love to join you in your…quest…to end this miserable Aztek.” Silence soon fell over the “chamber” as each and every individual’s mind began to fill with sinister thoughts and plans for vengeance, they all shared a common goal, ending the Master of Shadows.

The lack of sound ended sooner than later when a voice drifted into their minds, echoing in their heads. It came from an unknown place, seemingly all around them, “It is solely because of me that any of you draw breath, in fact all of you owe me your lives and I demand payment…luckily for you, you’re going to enjoy the task that will redeem you of this and by performing it you will have paid off your debt to me.”

Everyone was now startled and began looking around, left and right, up and down for the source of this voice but it was Magdala that spoke for them, the only one who did not make herself look a fool in trying to locate the voice. “Who speaks? What is it that you want?” The voice responded, “I am Death and I want the head of Aztek upon a platter served to me. Of course, you fools may not be capable of this; so as to ensure success I am granting you an accomplice. One of the most deadly assassins in the universe, she was granted many gifts by her lover Lord Chaos and she has agreed to help you vanquish his slayer.”

Slowly a female form began to take shape as shadows fell from her body, some still snaked along it though, keeping themselves in the forms of tattoos. Long and colorful hair hung past her shoulders, her clothes leaving little to the imagination, but her eyes hidden from view. “Call me, Lady Tlseyo…”

Far away from the shadow in a place called Paradise, two tormented souls bonded, brought together by sadness, bringing about joy. Yet in an instant, his face faded to death, all life draining from it in a second, solemn he remained. She studied this unexpected expression curiously, as he kept avoiding looking her in the eyes. Shamefully he turned away from her but at last he summoned up the courage to speak, “Lya…I am so sorry…I never meant to taint you with my curse...but I had to bring you here…for your own safety…and everyone else’s.”

Sadness and pain filled her own eyes as she placed an open palm on each side of his head and forced him to look her in the eyes. Than pulling his head down, she kissed his forehead and whispered, “You know I forgave you already brother, I love you, and your wrongs mean nothing to me.” Aztek remained silent, thoughts filling his mind, overwhelming him until he spoke, “I love you too…” He embraced her, but before she could say another word he had vanished, vaporized it would seem, but she knew he was simply trying to get away from everyone for a moment and sighed. Turning around she began to trek through Paradise, but the truth was, all alone in Paradise does not make it a pleasing place at all, perhaps she would go talk with mother, though Grace had not been too friendly as of late, seeking solitude, hating everyone that came near her, crying constantly. On second thought, Lya would just sit in the trees…besides she had always loved nature.

Chapter Eleven: A Whole New World

“Get away from her!” screamed the furious Grace as she held her daughter close to her chest. The youthful Lya was barely conscious, with blood saturating her clothing, drenching her hair, tarnishing her beautiful complexion. Grace fell back, her shouting was draining her of her strength, leaving her slumped against a mighty tree, sitting on the dark soil, cradling her child, protecting her, from a monster.

Standing before her though was the last monster you’d ever suspect, a trembling young man with tears streaming down his face but that misconception of him being innocent changed when you noticed the blood dripping from his open palms, Lya’s blood. “No! No…it was an accident, I swear! I never meant…” his voice began to lose its strength, his fear taking control and making him weak. “…I never meant to hurt her. I couldn’t hurt her” Grace was deaf to his cries, her anger with him had begun long ago and would not fade, but still Aztek had refused to stop seeking her mercies. Now he did though, instead he spoke to Lya, unaware if she could even hear him, “Lya...I will heal you one day, you won’t die, I promise. I’ll do whatever it takes because I…” He was cut off as Grace bellowed one last time, “Leave!”

A defeated look passed over his face but he turned and fled, running non-stop for hours, not daring to rest, not until he reached the Gateway. After almost half a day of endless running, ironically seeing as he could have teleported had he been thinking clearly, Aztek collapsed in a heap. He was in a clearing devoid of any plant life, it simply contained blackened dirt and a stone doorway filled with a bluish screen of sorts, a door to another time and place, the Gateway. Normally he would have bent the power of it to his own will, to take it to his desired location but now he just needed to escape Paradise and all common sense had departed him, so he summoned all the strength he had and with a spurt of energy dashed into it, letting the power overwhelm him and make him its toy.

Silence fell over Paradise, deafening silence…than the trees surrounding the clearing stirred and Magdala stepped out of them. “Okay girls, you know what to do.” Lady Tlseyo and Tara strode out of the vegetation, so that that each of them stood at the side of their mistress. The Lady turned to Magdala, curtly nodded, and then rushed into the Gateway; Tara flying closely behind, within mere seconds the doorway crumbled…stones turning to dust.

Hands then emerged from the dark woods, sliding between the lowered arms of the beautiful goddess, wrapping around her waist as Lilith emerged from the forest. Magdala smiled, turned her head to the side so that she could look into the eyes of the face resting upon her shoulder. The two kissed, a light brush of lips, but were interrupted by a gruff voice, “She’s waking. We need to return now.” The kiss broke and Lilith shot an angry glare into the woods but said nothing as Magdala pulled out of her grasp.

The Mistress sighed as she waved her hands, causing a shadowy portal to materialize, a portal to the shadow realm, “Go.” Legend came out behind her first, Grace slung over his shoulder, Grishnakh followed closely behind, Lya hanging almost lifelessly, tucked under his arm. After the four of them walked into the portal, Lilith followed as did Magdala, closing it behind her and leaving Paradise truly empty…for the first time since the Days of Serenity, no evil was tainting it.

Aztek awoke in the blazing heat of a sandy desert, the fiery sun shining down upon him and waking him, but as he began to stir he noticed something was amiss. His hands and feet were manacled and chained to an immovable post. Honestly, Aztek could most likely have escaped with ease but for the moment he was bored, and besides if he stayed he might find out where he was and who his captors were. So the cocky and foolish god once again drifted into a sleep, for hours he slept until the dead of night came and he was awoken again, but this time not by a shining star but a swift kick in the ribs.

His eyes snapped open and settled upon a man that must have been eight or even nine feet tall, Aztek never had been good at estimating height. “Get up”, Aztek did. The booming voice still echoed in his head but Aztek was unthreatened by it, and with a little shake of his wrists, the chains that had bound him turned to dust. “I hope those didn’t cost you too much.” The man laughed, a deep laugh, “Not at all, for you are worth far more to us than mere chains, victims of time.” If Aztek was surprised at anything the man had just said, his face did not show it, “Now walk.” Again the Master of Shadows obeyed without question.

Walking past perhaps half a dozen tents, Aztek soon figured out he was being led to a circle of fire, around which sat a handful of hooded beings. Six of them sat around the flames, but there was a seventh throne, an empty one. A quick glance made it obvious that it had been built for the man walking closely behind Aztek. That same man now lifted Aztek off the ground by his cloak and tossed him into circle, then took his seat. Scrambling to his feet, the Lost One now whirled around, looking at each of the individuals, trying to get comfortable with his surroundings. At last his eyes locked on one man…and he found himself paralyzed…this must be their leader, “I apologize about the circumstances, O Elder One, but when we found you simply lying in the desert and realized what you are…we thought it to your benefit that we take you.”

Aztek opened his mouth to interrupt but he could not get a word in before the voice continued, “You see, we are The Immortals and many of us are ancient of days but Malchior claims that your age surpasses even my own, now how is that possible?” The Son of Chaos did not know what to say but felt remaining silent for a while was probably the best idea he had at the moment but when none of them spoke, he at last answered. “I was born five hundred years ago and the village sorcerer cursed me, condemning me to walk this earth for ten times that which a normal man would.” Everything went silent as he closed and than a few chuckles could be heard all around but not from the leader, he simply watched Aztek, as if trying to bore through his skull into the very recesses of his mind.

“Either you severely underestimate us which would be foolish of you or Malchior guessed your age incorrectly which is highly unlikely, so I will simply assume you are the fool. Four of our number have lived beyond five hundred years, in fact, the man who brought you to this circle has lived for thousands, and yet you think we would find five hundred years ancient? I am almost ashamed someone of your years would be so naïve. I am The Elder, I have been walking this earth since the Age of the First Man and yet my sorcerer believes you are older…now I ask you again, how is this possible?”

Aztek understood that the time for games was over but he needed to pretend he was unafraid and so simply shrugged, “My past is of no importance, you need not know who I am. With the ages all of you possess, I doubt you know of one another’s pasts, and I expect to be treated likewise.” A man with a raspy voice was the one who responded, “That is where you are wrong, we hide nothing from each other, if we are going to spend eternity together, why have secrets?” Aztek felt himself still unable to turn but he answered grimly, “Because eternity isn’t as long as you think, and you’ll find trust is every man’s downfall.”

“Enough.” The Elder interrupted Aztek, sending some sort of energy through his body that caused intense pain though not enough for Aztek to cry out and reveal to the others what was happening. “Stranger…tell us your name?” There was a short silence as the Aztek caught his breath, “The Lost One.”

Aztek knew his answer did not please The Elder, but he also knew The Elder did not wish to make a scene in front of his loyal followers, smart man. “Very well, Lost One. Tonight you shall rest, and tomorrow you shall journey with us, to the Palace of the Pharaoh.” Aztek did not protest, instead he smiled, “As you wish…Master.” He said it almost mockingly and for it he had to suffer the consequences, a power swept over him and all went black.

The next morning Aztek slowly opened his eyes and found that he was undressed and laying on his back in a small tent, just large enough for one person. Dressing himself was a strenuous task and he could only put on what he had been given, a white toga. At last he finished and opened the flap of the tent, crawling out into the desert; he began to walk around, investigating the area, to see who was all out and about. The first person he came to meet was the man almost twice his size. “We leave in an hour…be ready.” The man then continued on his way, without another word.

The next man Aztek came across was not hiding himself, although his appearance was rather startling, the man had striking blue eyes -that drew the Master of Shadows in as if by mystical ability- and long white hair that flowed past his shoulders. Upon his body he wore a metal breastplate, light but strong, an armor made long before its time, these things became clear to Aztek however when he learned this was Malchior, the three hundred year old sorcerer. Three hundred years did not make the man very talkative though and Aztek decided to leave him to his musings. The silence did not last long however, when two more came out from their tents, a young boy appearing to be maybe sixteen and an individual who remained hooded, all parts of his body lost in the folds of his shroud. The boy claimed to be Ra and for two hundred years he had been frozen in his youthful form. The hooded one was the man with the raspy voice from last night, not very social at all; the only thing Aztek got from him was his name, Hassan.

After the two went on their way, Aztek realized there were only two more he had not met personally, apart from the Master, but it wouldn’t be long till he saw them uncloaked, a lot sooner than he would have liked. A scream startled him, echoing from within the largest of the tents, and within seconds he had dashed through the flap to help but what met his eyes was far from what he expected and caused him to run out even faster than he had run in. The scream of course had not been one of terror, but of ecstasy, yes, Aztek never spoke of the time he first saw Lilith and Serafina uncloaked, or perhaps I should say unclothed.

Within a few hours Aztek had managed to put all that into the back of his mind as he stood alone in front of the Palace of the Pharaoh. He was not in awe of the finery, the work of art or architectural magnificence, stuff like this was an everyday thing to him, he had lived for millennia, seen it all, what was one more palace or one more pyramid? It was because of all this that Aztek was quickly becoming impatient, the Immortals had told him they had an audience with the Pharaoh but that he must wait outside, so he did without complaint, but this was taking too long…he yearned to know what was going on, so he decided to do just that.

Merging with the shadows he slid silently into the palace, through hallways until at last he entered the royal chamber, sliding under the doors and into a darkened corner where he could visualize all that was going on, what he saw horrified him. Sidu, the giant of a man that had awoken Aztek yesterday now stood tall, with his well-muscled arm upraised, and in his grasp was the neck of a beautiful young woman, the daughter of the Pharaoh. The Pharaoh himself was being threatened and knew no way out of it; the Immortals had come here with only the worst intentions in mind. Normally Aztek would have just ignored this display and moved on…but the Princess caught his eye, he could not leave her.

“Stop!” His voice bellowed, echoing throughout the chamber, “Step away from them…or I’ll kill you.” Everyone froze, but they did not seem to be caught off-guard at all, in fact they almost seemed like they had been expecting this, perhaps they had. The first to react to all of it was the young and swift Ra who, in less than a second, wrapped himself in shadows and traveled behind Aztek, reconstituting himself once again and leaping out of the darkness. But the Lost One remained calm and almost with ease side-stepped letting Ra crash to the floor…the boy would soon recover…had Aztek not already been prepared, as tentacles of shadows grabbed his legs and began dragging him into his own element, kicking and screaming. “Anyone else?”

The answer to the question however was common sense, why should immortals fear death, there was nothing Aztek could do them that would scare them, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t make them suffer for their crimes. At first he was surprised when it seemed no one was going to make an attack, but than his eyes caught Malchior, the sorcerer. The man’s lips were moving silently, but quickly, uttering curses and spells of all sorts Aztek was almost certain, especially since the man’s eyes were clouding over as he went into his mystical trance. So Aztek’s hand slid under his shirt, and with as it came out he gave a swift flick of the wrist and Malchior’s hand went to his throat, a sharp blade appearing to have grown from it. As he fell to his knees, he began to cough up blood, his spell broken, and he fell to the floor, his eyes never returning from their misted state.

The fight was not over though as yet another mystical member of the band began to use their magicks, for while Aztek had been distracted with fighting the others, Serafina had been taking off her clothing, not for seduction or pleasure but for power. Now she stood completely nude and began to convulse as her skin began to ripple and change, scales growing to cover her entire body as her legs began to merge, becoming a tail, her eyes becoming those of a snake’s. Starting to slither over towards Aztek, poison dripping from her fangs, he was not afraid, sure she was the first of her kind that the Lost One had ever encountered, but he bet she would also be the last as he created a mighty shadow sword from nothing and with one fell swoop, sliced through her midriff, leaving her body to fall on the stone in two pieces, twitching weakly as it struggled in the final throes of death.

A scream tore itself from Lilith’s throat as her face contorted in horror, “You bastard! You fucking bastard!” Sprinting towards him, she was not even a threat but still she threw herself at Aztek’s body, but with a swipe, his arm crashed into her midriff, sending her flying. It was then and only then that he recognized her, and remembered he had once taken a loved one from her. Everyone was still for a few moments, until Lilith began to slide along the stone floor, exhausted and she crawled over to the upper body of her lover, cradling her in her arms, weeping, whispering to herself. “She wasn’t truly immortal…not in her serpent form…”

No one heard her words, not that it mattered, they had all known, except for Aztek, he still thought she would heal, that little lacking of knowledge would come to bite him in the ass one day. “Hassan! Sidu! Deal with him…” The Elder’s voice was harsh and quick, he was obviously growing tired of Aztek, or was he growing tired of having living followers? Meh, no matter, Aztek dealt with both the giant of a man and the cloaked sack of flesh as they flew towards him, Hassan was sliced to shreds with a shadow net and Sidu fell from the sky in a lifeless heap, taken out by a backfired psychic assault.

The Elder began to laugh at that moment, bodies littering the floor, the Pharaoh and his daughter long forgotten but still cowering in fear, keeping sure to stay away from the shadows and Lilith sobbing by her deceased lover, only Aztek seemed to be free from the emotional roller coaster. “I know I’m going to regret asking such a stupid question of you, but what’s so funny?”

Regaining his composure The Elder smiled, “I had my doubts about you, but you’ve confirmed yourself to me, now I and my surviving, worthless servants must prepare but we will meet again Aztek.” With that the man gave a final toothy grin and vanished, not into the thin air, but into the ground, as if it opened up just for him and closed itself after he was gone; it did the same with his servants seconds later, well, what was left of them.

Concealing his surprise, the Lost One returned his attention to the king and his daughter who were now lying prostrate on the floor, bowing to him, they were shaking, the girl was even sobbing, the fear they had of him was strong but he tried his best to calm them. “Rise to your feet. I am not here to rule over you, but to serve you.”

The girl rose first, doing so rapidly, as if afraid that being slow to obey his orders would result in punishment. “Do not be afraid. I do not wish to harm any of you, I came to save you.” The Pharaoh gulped as he finally looked up and responded, “But, you are a god, what could you possibly want with us impersonators than to slay us?” Aztek thought to himself that this was one clever man, at least he knew he was not a god himself, it would get him places.

“I may be a god…but you need not concern yourself with the details, just accept that I am also your servant…” Aztek spoke as he approached The Pharaoh; he stood a head taller than the king but kneeled before him, his shadow sword laying flat on his opened palms. “Take my sword as acknowledgment of my servitude.” The Pharaoh was shocked but he did not protest, taking the heavy blade, he could barely support the weight but still he managed to keep a regal appearance about himself.

“I accept your gift, but I will not be indebted to you…I give to you my own gift.” The Pharaoh then took his daughter’s hand and placed it in Aztek’s. “My daughter and no, you cannot refuse, for it would be an insult to me. Now our blood shall be one and neither of us will be indebted to the other.” Aztek was reluctant and began to open his mouth in protest but he settled on the truth that he had already touched her, there was nothing that could be done but accept what had been done.

Clasping her hand with his own, he looked up, into her dazzling eyes, “You’re sure I do not owe you? Do you not agree that your daughter is worth far more than my service could ever be?” The king scoffed, and a hurt look passed over his daughter’s face but she suppressed it, “Are you kidding, I’ve got hundreds of others, you can have this one.”

Aztek was sincerely shocked at those words, so much so that he couldn’t respond and simply remained silent, stepping off to the side, no longer holding the Princess’ hand. How could a father think so little of their daughter? As he pondered this, the Pharaoh spoke with other individuals that had now entered his chamber, probably berating them about poor security or something else equally unimportant. Surprisingly the Pharaoh turned his attentions to the Shadow Master and motioned him over.

“Lord Aztek, meet the head of my Palace Guard, Amun.” He now displayed a tall, massive man, with muscles bulging from every part of his body and long golden hair. What nationality the man was Aztek did not ever dare guess, but one thing that struck him was the man’s soft eyes, he wasn’t a hardened warrior, he just looked the part. Aztek made no comment on this but gave a slight nod to man, ignoring his outstretched hand purposefully.

The Pharaoh made no sign of caring about their interaction and continued, “He will serve under you from now on, as will two more of my mightiest servants whom he shall bring you to. I have decided to take up your offer as being my servant and as such you will command my lesser servants, now go Amun, and show Lord Aztek what his duties are.” Aztek almost wanted to laugh, the Pharaoh’s cockiness was growing almost exponentially but no matter, Aztek had chosen this servitude and he would be sure to enjoy it. “Your wish is my command, my Pharaoh.” With that Aztek and Amun both bowed to their king and exited his chamber, leaving it empty except for the Pharaoh and his daughter.

Aztek followed silently behind the guard, never speaking or even attempting to interact with the man, Aztek had no interest in being given servants but he also had no good enough explanation to turn them down and didn’t want to bother with all those matters so he decided he would accept them, that didn’t mean he was happy about it. Finally Amun turned and entered a doorway without even looking in Aztek’s direction, smart man.

As the Lord of Darkness stepped over the threshold he felt a wave of mysticism sweep over himself and was forced to gasp as he caught his breath. “What is this sorcery?” he demanded Amun to answer. “It is only Ishtar, the Pharaoh’s Grand Vizier,” he waved to the balding, wizened old man that sat on the floor, legs crossed. Aztek turned to Ishtar and shouted, “Lower your spells or I will be forced to eliminate you now! I require no sign of attack in my presence.” The man seemed oblivious to Aztek, just looking down at an open volume also on the floor.

“He will not respond to you, for he cannot speak…nor see, but I’m sure he will comply with your wishes.” The guard seemed almost unsure about that, but Aztek did not have to wait long for the magicks to fade away, for the time at least. The Master of Shadows was growing impatient, “Now what of the third, where is he?”

“I’m not a he silly!” The voice startled Aztek and he swiftly turned around to watch the speaker as she stepped out of the shadows, how had he not sensed her, he still couldn’t sense her, what was she? He began to study her, from her charming smile, to the Eye of Horus painted on her own eye, from her obviously non-Egyptian skin, to her black attire, from the ankh hanging around her neck to the feeling of mystery that surrounded her. “Who are you?” he said at last.

“None of your business”, she smiled as she stuck her tongue out of him. Once again Aztek found himself astounded, how was such a childish individual one of Egypt’s mightiest? He was about to lose control and unleash his rage upon her when Amun interrupted, touching Aztek’s arm as if to pull him back and then whispering into his ear. “She is The Sorceress, we know her by no other name and she refuses to tell us any other. Although she often asks childish her magicks are great and not even we can comprehend them, the Pharaoh seems reluctant to trust her but there is nothing we can do, she could overthrow this kingdom if she desired.” Aztek decided not to turn on Amun with his boiling anger and instead kept his composure enough to nod. The Shadow Man than turned upon the three and began to walk out into the hallway, having the last word, “I am now your master, obey me and things will be easier for you, otherwise I make no promises,” and with that he was gone.

Stepping into his appointed bedchamber Aztek instantly lost a lot of tension, peace at last, no more annoyances today. Falling to his knees, he just knelt there, in the middle of his room, releasing all the pent up emotions, false and real alike, thinking he was alone. His screams tore through the chamber, but then he heard it and he stopped. A silent whimpering, a moaning, a wail of suffering and in that moment, fear formed on his face as he turned to identify the source.

There, lying on the floor of his chamber, in a pool of blood, was his forgotten bride, almost unidentifiable with her face smeared with red and her finery now in tatters. Tears mixed with the blood on her face, and Aztek just stared for a moment in shock, he hadn’t even thought of her once and now here she was, on the floor of his chamber, her fate in his hands.

Slowly, almost reluctantly he crawled to her side but he could not bear to look in her face so horrific was it to him. Instead he looked up and what he saw next was far more horrifying, on the wall, written in her blood were these words, “I know who you are Son of Chaos. Your touch is the only medicine that will save her. So shall it also kill her.”

As the words sunk in, a scream of agony ripped from his throat, he didn’t bother to even consider who could have done this to her, what burned in his mind was the painful truth that his presence had brought this suffering upon the beautiful young woman lying at his feet. She had done nothing wrong but be in the wrong place at the wrong time, ironic wasn’t it, seeing as it was truthfully he who did not belong in this place or time…

“Fuck!” He smashed his fist into the bloodstained wall, his knuckles shattering from the force, the pain was overwhelming but he ignored it, it was nothing next to the pain inside of himself. Finally, he drew in a deep breath, doing his best to calm himself and think things through but there was no time, her own breathing had stopped. So on an impulse, he pulled up the sleeve of his right arm and placed his palm of death upon her chest, over a massive wound that left her heart visible and he let all his barriers of control collapse, his power rushing out in a mighty wave.

It poured into her frail body, causing her to convulse as she lay unconscious on the floor, and although the process involved pain than any mortal could ever intake, it was healing her, mending bones, knitting flesh, granting strength as well as a darkness, a darkness that would live with her for all eternity.

After she was healed, Aztek collapsed, his strength temporarily drained away, leaving him vulnerable, but he didn’t care…all he could think about was the fact that he had tainted yet another innocent with his poison. Struggling to get up onto his hands and knees, at last he looked at her perfect visage and for a moment felt at peace. Than her eyes fluttered open, and a bottomless blackness met Aztek’s eyes for a split second, than they returned to her green irises, but it was too late, Aztek had seen…

Rising to his feet, he completely forgot her as he looked down at his hands, the blood, the death they had brought and he stumbled back a few steps. Amara rose, looking at him strangely, and asked, “What happened?” He was deaf to her words and only kept backing up until the backs of his legs hit a stone window ledge and he tripped over it, falling, falling out the window down to his fate…

Chapter 12: A Lover's Embrace

Journal Entry: Our Wedding Day

Funny, don’t you think, that I will have to always remember this day as our wedding day, one of the worst days of my life. Actually, looking back it IS the worst day of my life, of course I’m only seventeen years old, I’ve got a lot more life to live and hopefully I won’t always loathe the memories of today. Oops, getting off topic, I do this way too often, than again it’s weird enough that I write this as if to someone else when I’m the only one who will ever read it. Now for the actual recap of today’s strange events so that I might be able to look back on them years to come.

Today I met my husband, well my ex-husband I guess you could say, you see things went sour after I realized I was a pawn in the plans of a much greater evil than I could ever imagine…well, the basic breakdown of things is, one of the Dark Ones took me and left me for dead in the chamber of our newly appointed god, who is by the way the one I was given to as a bride.

Well, believe it or not, he saved my life, only to die soon after, falling out of a window, I guess it means I won’t have to worry about being the bride of a god, though was he really a god if he could die? Good question. Anyways, I’m off to bed. Is a pity I never got to get to know him better, he seemed like an interesting man, weird, but in a good way.

-Amara

Aztek set the writings down on the wooden desk next to the door of the bedchamber and looked across the room to the massive bed in which Amara now lay, graced in naught but a diaphanous robe. Aztek averted his eyes almost instantly, his wife or not, he still felt wrong looking at her in such a way, he hadn’t even known her a day, besides she was only seventeen, innocent, naïve enough to believe him dead, Aztek was the last person she needed in her life.

But he had touched her, unwillingly but it was a touch nonetheless and now if anything should happen to her, anything at all, it would his fault, as such it was now his duty to watch over her. So, without waking her, he went down to the stone floor beside the bed, lay there and drifted into a sleep as not to disturb her.

Since that day, ten years had now passed; Aztek’s life had changed drastically. For one thing he had become The Pharaoh of Egypt after the death of his wife’s father, and was now ten years after his first encounter with them, fighting a war against the Immortals. For another he had found himself madly in love with Amara but unable to admit it to her. Rather he would deny her own love towards himself and tell her as a god he could not feel love, she saw through his lies but never pressed him. Sure she was extremely wild and adventurous and would make him cross some of his lines every so, but there was one thing she had never been able to press upon him, something with repercussions unknown to both of them, something she planned to finally have with him tonight on the tenth anniversary of their “fake” marriage, intimacy.

Elsewhere in Egypt, in the desert sands, a portal suddenly grew, several feet off the ground, and from it tumbled out too busty, and beautiful young ladies, well they looked young anyways, truth be told one of them was damn near older than time itself, but that’s irrelevant at the present.

Anyways, the two of them now lay prostrate in the sands, the elder one was scantily clad in red strips of cloth that were now in disarray, leaving many of the tattoos that snaked across her body exposed to the desert sun. While the other woman, with hair of blond, and a figure many woman would kill for lay with her face buried in the burning sand, exhausted after what had just occurred.

She simply lay there when suddenly she felt a foot kick into the side of her gut and she looked up shouting, “Hey bitch! I’m getting…” but it hadn’t been her mistress who kicked her, nay, she looked up, about seven or eight feet into the eyes of a pale-skinned man with a very unfriendly look upon his face.

Her jaw dropped and she just stared, fearing what was to come but the man’s anger seemed to subside as he stared at her, well at her bosom actually, but she didn’t know that. “I’m sorry, sir, I thought you were someone else.”

Tara clumsily got to her feet and began to dust herself off with her hands and eventually helped the Lady of Chaos get up as well. When the two of them found themselves to be presentable they finally looked around, the Lady said nothing, but Tara swore under her breath, for behind the tall man were some of the darkest looking creatures that should ever inhabit the planet, were they even human?

But from their ranks stepped out a rather short man, or at least she assumed he was a man, you couldn’t tell with his heavy cloak and his voice was deep, much more so than you’d expect with his size, “Welcome ladies, we’ve been expecting you.”

“The Immortals have brought their war to Egypt my Lord, and we can wait no longer, we must strike now!” A man with a reddish-orange lengthy beard and long, unkempt hair of the same color slammed his closed fist on the stone table, causing several of the golden, wine-filled goblets to shake.

“Be at ease my Soldier, you shall have your fight, but we cannot merely rush into the fray without risking ourselves, we must plan this out.” Aztek tried to calm the man, Aztek never really liked the guy, but Amun, Aztek’s general, had appointed him as his second, and Aztek would not argue with a man he had entrusted his nation’s armed forces to.

The Soldier did not seem pleased with the answer but he eased back in his chair and simply held the silence, an unexpected response. Amun than interceded, “My King, I believe he is right in this, we must go, tonight, or fear losing the lives of your people. The Elder has made it very clear that if you do not give in to his demands within three days he will close his fist, and right now that fist envelops Egypt.”

Aztek began rubbing his temples, he was frustrated, he had never asked to be a god, but at least in that position he wasn’t directly responsible for the livelihood of mortals, but now as a King, he was, and he couldn’t just abandon these duties. What to do? Finally he turned to look at the only woman seated at the table, “And what do you think, Isis?”

“You know I don’t like war, silly. But we must do what needs to be done, and with that in mind, they are right, you and I both know it.” She frowned at him and he exhaled loudly in response. Turning back to Amun he spoke, “Order the troops to head off under the command of your second, Ishtar and Isis shall accompany him. They will strike at The Elder’s forces before he knows they are coming,” at saying this he shared an unspoken conversation with Isis through a glance. “As for you my trusted General, gather the Elites…and leave as soon as you are ready, you must make sure The Elder does not escape, he is your target. The others will tend to his forces.” With that he gave a nod, rose to his feet and departed from the chambers, he trusted everyone to figure out their roles and take care of them accordingly. He had other things to attend to…

Not even an hour later, in another area of the castle, Amun walked alone down a lightless hallway, off to his chambers. He suddenly whipped around when a sound like metal dropping on stone filled his ears but he didn’t even have time to do anything after that, for he turned right into a flying dagger. The cold steel sheathed itself into his chest, burrowing into his flesh up to the hilt.

He collapsed to his knees and from the shadows emerged three seductively dressed young ladies, but it seemed their attire was not needed to get rid of this one; they did it the fun way instead. The leader of three, her skin covered in tattoos turned to the blonde buxom one and said, “Take him to The Elder as was ordered. As for you and I Lilith,” she said, now speaking to the other, “we’ve got a much more pleasurable task.” A grin grew upon her visage as all three once again faded into the darkness.

Out in the deserts of Egypt, the Immortals and their hordes were sleeping in the dead of night, in the center of their encampment the true Immortals rested, but the place was surrounded by countless guards, why they should worry about assassins if they believed themselves immortal was a question on everyone with half a brain’s minds, thankfully for them, their army was full of dimwits, able-bodied in war, but dim-witted nonetheless.

So it was that Aztek’s forces found it very easy to reach the perimeter undetected, Isis had used her shadow-teleporting to mass transport thousands of armed soldiers across Egypt, just on this side of enemy lines. She never appreciated warfare but knew it necessary and also knew her gifts were needed if Aztek was to be successful, so with a frown on her face she motioned her hand and Egypt’s army rushed past her…their goal…kill every man, woman and child in the encampment, sleeping or awake…no one would get out alive.

In his bedchambers Aztek lounged in a chair near the bed, he had yet to spend a single night in those sheets, but the chair had already become comfortable, ten years of habit can make anything feel comfortable. His eyelids began to droop as they grew weary when he shook himself awake as the door to the chamber opened and in stepped Amara, a maidservant at each side, wearing a dazzling white cloak that wrapped itself around her entire body.

That’s when she gave the two women clad in diaphanous robes a nod and they slipped out of the room, leaving behind only Aztek and Amara. He had a feeling he wouldn’t like where this was going by the mischievous grin on his bride’s face but he said nothing, only watched. Finally her hands went up to the jewel-encrusted clip that held her robe closed and dropped it, her robe soon followed.

Sliding off of her body, Aztek found himself stunned, whether she was wearing anything underneath or not was debatable, although a silk blouse still draped over her shoulders which was hardly less than diaphanous. At that moment, the King of Egypt couldn’t even move…couldn’t think and as she approached him with a walk that would leave the hardest of men weak with lust, he knew she had won.

Bending over him, she lightly kissed his lips, then pulled him to his feet with a victorious grin, pushing him onto the bed she laughed, “You are SOOOO going to regret not doing this ten years ago.”

Chapter 13: Broken

Lazily opening his well-rested eyes, Aztek found himself staring up at the brick ceiling and perhaps for the first time in his life, he knew what it felt like to be truly happy, to be content. So there he lay for some time, not moving, or making a sound, not wanting to wake his amazing wife from her peaceful sleep.

They had just shared the greatest night of their lives, he didn't want to truly admit it was over, not yet. At that moment, Aztek began to develop an urge to look at her, to just gaze at her delicate and beautiful visage. Turning on to his side he looked at the spot where she had laid when she fell asleep but what met his eyes caused him to simply stare in shock, he didn't know how to react.

Amara wasn't there, where she was isn't what shocked the King of Egypt, no, it was what now took her place in his bed. The sheets were drenched in red, he could feel it now, death had come to this place. In horror he leaped to his feet and looked around frantically, seeing just much blood was lost. It had been splattered over the floor, the walls, in fact there was more blood than one would expect to find in a human body.

Aztek began clutching his head as he fell to his knees, his mind was racing and he didn't know what to do. He tried to make a sound but it got caught in his throat, instead creating a feeble noise that proved just how scared he was, how lost he had become. Crawling on his hands and knees he returned to the edge of the bed, placing his head in the pool of blood where his wife's body had been and just sobbed...

This continued on for quite some time, though time is rarely relevant in circumstances like this for those participating in it feel like its been an eternity. Whether it was from lack of oxygen, sheer shock, something else or a combination of these Aztek finally faded into unconsciousness. Hours later he awoke, but nothing had changed, other than the fact that the blood had dried on both the bed and his body, he now had back pain thanks to the position he had passed out and it struck him. Where was the body?

How could he have been so stupid? What, what if she had still been alive when he had awoke somewhere out there...what if he could have saved her? Fuck. He couldn't think that. No. But what could he think? Could he convince himself that she was still alive, or that there was no way he could have saved her?

Scrambling out of his bed, wearing nothing but a loose pair of white pants that barely passed his knees, he dashed to the door, still a little off-balance but determined enough to keep from falling. His hand grasped the door handle and he pulled, spilling himself out into the hallway.

He began hurrying, stumbling, down the corridor until he once again lay in a heap on the floor. He couldn't do this, he simply could not take a step further. Raising up his tear-stained face at least enough to look ahead and see if anyone saw their King in such a disheveled pile.

What met his eyes rather was much more horrifying, clutching her bare legs to her naked body, a young girl, nay a young woman, cried. Scars covered her frail body, open wounds covering them, blood dried on her while still more flowed. Upon a second look he realized that even her tears were blood.

Crawling over to her, he whispered, "Are you alright?" A stupid question, he knew, but asking stupid questions is human nature for no one wants to accept the truth in such a situation. However, this time he didn't have a denial to back up his will to just walk away, because she didn't answer, he wasn't even sure she had noticed him.

So once again he spoke, this time placing his hand on her, "Can you hear me?" The girl looked up at him, her eyes blackened but still bleeding red...she spoke weakly, "She is lost to you, but do not despair...you must regain vengeance upon those who dared harm her...they now fight your subjects in the Sands of the Sahara...you must...avenge her." Than she went limp and not another word passed her lips...leaving Aztek in a very troubling situation.

Elsewhere, in that place the girls had spoken of with her dying breath, an encampment had become an inferno for war had been waged. Bronze clashed upon bronze as warriors flooded the area, slaughtering all before them. The upper hand was not there's however, both sides had already lost extensive numbers, but not because of the length of the battle but the fact that paritcipating in this war were beings far more than human, and they had to put in little effort to kill a mere mortal.

But that is one of humanity's greatest flaws in motion, thousands upon thousands of men threw their lives away because they fought without fear, believing that fighting for the gods would bless them. Little did they know the gods paid them no heed, nor the fact that they are no blessings in Hades.

Nay, the true war had nothing to do with these charging soldiers, and only they were unaware of this...even now Aztek's generals fought The Elder's, a clash of powers so magnificent, man could only look at it with awe. Yet no one looked...no one wanted to come face to face with the realization that such beings walked among them, rather they fought, and died, for those same beings.

Meanwhile, out of sight of the warring combatants, in The Elder's unsigned tent, a ceremony was taking place. Tlyeso and Lilith watched as their Master took the body of Amun now placed on an altar and from it made a new man. Using his necromancy, The Elder stole Amun's soul from the Dimension of Shadows, tainted it and once again placed it inside his revitalized corpse.

"Now, arise, Amun, servant of Death!" Its eyes snapped open, though remained glazed over, "Now, finish off the armies." The Elder grinned, and without much delay his newly-crafted servant exited the tent...only minutes later he returned..."It is done."

"Excellent. Let us go see what is left standing, shall we?" With that he glanced over to the two seemingly invisible women in the corner of the tent and they came to him, each standing at one side as he opened the tent flap and stepped out into the open. The sight that caught all of their eyes would have shocked most but they took it in stride, minus Lilith who hurled all over the sand. The carnage was inhumane, none had been left alive...not even the generals could be seen standing...though The Elder had a feeling they were not a part of the body count.

A flash of black light suddenly spread across all of their lines of vision and when it had faded away before them stood a very outraged Aztek. This time both women seemed taken aback but still The Elder was nonchalant about it all, "Ah, right on time."

"YOU! It was you! You killed her!" Aztek pointed his finger directly at The Elder, his voice cracking as if he was about to suffer another breakdown, but the only reply he got was, "Perhaps."

"I will make you pay! All of you! You filthy creatures of darkness shall burn for your crimes!" Aztek was slowly beginning to sound live a raving lunatic, but he was a powerful raving lunatic, the worst kind of crazy.

The Elder grinned, he seemed truly amused, "Look whose talking, my son. You are the epitome of darkness, you are its host." At these words Aztek was left in shock..."Father? But, no, I killed you...no..."

A laugh burst forth from the short man's throat as he began to rapidly grow in stature until he stood above seven feet tall though from this distance he could still manage to look Aztek in the eyes without bending his neck down. "You do kill me, one day, my informant tells me...but not before I become the most powerful being in existence."

Aztek fell to his knees in exhaustion, he was confused, lost, what was happening? How could this be? "Bane..." Who was his informant, who knew of Bane's death that would yearn for Aztek's destruction, who had orchestrated this all?

"Let me answer that question for you," the seductive Tlyeso spoke as she walked towards the fallen King, but he did not look up to her, he simply stared into oblivion. "His name is quite familiar to you I should hope...he used to call himself...Balazar..."

Now she stood within an arm's reach of the Son of Chaos, but she wasn't planning on reaching him with her arm. Sounds began to fill the air, first the whirring of something traveling swiftly through the air, than the soft sound of a blade being sheathed in flesh and finally...a small grunt from an impaled man.

"Goodbye, Aztek, it was a pleasure killing you." Shadows began to than swirl around her body, tracing themselves along her intricate tattoos until she was bathed in darkness, "Come." Lilith ran to her at this call, and in a flash similar to Aztek's entrance, they were now gone, vanished leaving behind only a grinning Bane, a silent Amun and a dying Aztek.

Bane now strode over to Aztek and kneeled in front of him, "Too bad she doesn't know the real plan, eh? But don't let that worry you, your going to be just fine." Bane clasped his massive hand around the hilt of the blade embedded in Aztek heart and ripped it free, the sounds of bone grating upon steel blasted the ears.

"Now go Aztek, have your revenge...he killed your wife..." A shadowy portal began to form behind Bane as he whispered his damning message. Aztek finally looked up, forcing Bane to stare deep into the abyss of death, the pools of suffering that were Aztek's eyes and Balazar's fate...

"You die first." Power ripped through Aztek's flesh, as he became a human atomic bomb, overwhelming power pouring out unceasingly, destroying all life for miles...including a group who had been headed to the palace to tell their King they had defeated The Elder's immortals and that the war would soon be over...but the man standing at point-blank range was unharmed and scoffed, "I hope that has a better effect on your enemy, or you won't stand a chance."

With that said, he picked up the barely conscious, deeply wounded and now unclothed Aztek and hurled him into the portal. Turning back to Amun he smiled, "Well we best get cleaned up, a man is coming to meet us with a job proposal, turns out the position of Death now has a vacancy..."

Chapter 14: The Darkest Day

Death.

As Aztek's eyes slowly opened they were met with an unpenetrable darkness, one even Aztek could not control but he immediatley knew why for he had encountered this pure darkness before, it was his grandfather, the primordial god of darkness...Death.

As Aztek began to fully regain consciousness he became aware of the fact his senses had all been confounded and his memories blurred, and to make matters worse there was nothing he could do to stop it. Aztek may have been powerful, but this essence around him was the source of his power...he didn't stand a chance.

Whispers swirled in his mind, "My son...you have slain my son...and now you must take his place...life cannot function without chaos...you must take up the mantle of the one you hate most...everything hangs in the balance..." These words rang in Aztek's mind, he tried to block them out but the attempt proved useless. These words and similar phrases continued to pour into Aztek's mind, filling him up with the sickness of Death and he couldn't take it.

Clutching his head, he tried to hide himself, getting into the fetal position, our naked, weakened, dying hero found he had reached his breaking point...and he gave in...although he died a hundred times, it was this time that he embraced...true death...the death that had destroyed his father so many eons ago...the death that had birthed Chaos and would now birth some new horror...

A scream filled that place right then, but the source of it has never been confirmed...for there were three individuals right there, right then...all with reason to vent out their pain. The darkness than began to recede, as if Death was weakening, and perhaps he was for a new body now walked through the tendrils of shadow. And this one didn't fear it.

With snow white skin, and dressed in black...the youthful woman had an essence of peace about her, but her face was far from joyful. The Eye of Horus decorated her right eye, but now it was no longer the distinguishing feature on her face, rather it was a single tear that rested on her cheek, trailing from that eye...as she looked down at Aztek's broken body.

Coming to her knees, she put her arms around Aztek's bleeding body and placed a single kiss upon his forehead. Then she set him back down gently and rose to her feet, the shadows had dispersed around her but now they reformed themselves, this time into the form of a man who stood almost a head taller than she. Standing less than a foot directly behind her, he reached over her shoulder, and traced his finger along her cheek, wiping the tear away.

"No need to shed any tears, my beloved, you have come too late, just as you did with our son..."

In the Realm of Shadows things had changed since Aztek last destroyed its fortifications and left it in ruins. Many years had past since he left it in decay, a decade in mortal time, but with the shifting time-lines between our world and their's it may very well have been centuries.

The use of unscalable walls was no longer part of regular day-to-day activites, with the Destroyer out of the picture, a mighty palace had been erected, and not with shadow but with painstaking labor of the damned...it was decorated with gold and other precious metals, jewels everywhere. It was every mortal's dream, but the one to whom it belonged cared nothing for riches, it was simply his way of showing his servants just how powerful he truly was. Humbleness had never been a strong point.

Now the palace did have one barrier, a seamless wall that surrounded the palace, but it was mostly for show, anyone could step through it if they were of the dead. But in between this wall and the palace there was a courtyard, the place Death's servants spent most of their time and at this moment in time two of them were training. Honing their skills.

Snap! The sound echoed in the courtyard as a splinted bo staff spun through the air. The man over whom it had been broken was breathing heavily on his hands and knees, trying to catch his breath. Wearing nothing but a loose-fitting pair of pants held up by a sash, the man found little protection between the bare skin of his upper body and his opponent's weapon of choice. As such, welts, cuts and bruises adorned his back and chest, scars both past and present.

In raising his head he exposed a face none would ever expect to see on a warrior such as he, for his face displayed what appeared to be not a battle scar, but a horrific disfigurement. Half his face was utterly perfect minus a few small scars, but the other side of his face appeared to have been completely melted off like the horrors of your nightmares. Even so, when he locked eyes with his sparring partner he smiled at her, "You've gotten better." A smile of mischief crossed her own face as she laughed, "Well, I have a certain legend to thank for that, now don't I."

"Ooooooh yeah..." The shuddering speech of a deep-voiced male interrupted their moment. The curtain doorway of a makeshift hut divided him from the two, the only courtesy he showed them, for the sounds coming from within were hardly masked at all. An awkard silence fell upon the lovers, broken only at random intervals by the moaning from inside the hut. After what seemed like an eternity, things seemed to settle down and the curtain was swept aside.

Stepping out from behind it was a scantily-clad true mistress of seduction who smiled at the couple, then wiped the blood from her mouth with the back of her hand and walked away without a word. Shortly after, a man -wearing naught but a cloth around his nether regions- so tall and wide that he could only be called a giant followed her out. Of course, he didn't wipe the blood off himself, it was too plentiful, and it covered the majority of his unclothed body...they tried not to think about where else it might be. He grinned at them, "The bed's free, and from the look of you two, I don't think you'll need to worry about washing it first."

His comment made, he turned and headed for his private quarters, disgusting though they may be, but was stopped in his tracks when a heavily-tattooed lady formed from a red mist in the center of the courtyard. "Grishnakh! Lilith! Cassandra! Legend! To arms, now! He has returned!"

Atop the palace, alone, a young woman watched as Tlyseyo appeared in the courtyard and began frantically shouting at the others. Of course she had nothing to worry about, they wouldn't bother her, they feared her, fools though they were, avoiding her was one smart thing they managed to do. Her long black hair was pulled along by the gentle breeze, and that breeze whispered to her. It spoke of his coming, for he was seeking vengeance, but Alexandra knew something the other didn't...things were not as they seemed.

"Fuck!" Magdala swore loudly, "Why has he returned?! Tlseyo was supposed to take care of him once and for all. If he decimated us with ease last time, how do you think he can't repeat the same outcome again?" Balazar, to whom she was yelling of course, simply looked at the ornate thrones, his back to Magdala and the entrance to the Hall of Death. "You'll see," was all he said, nothing more.

Time passed in that chamber of the wicked, but it wasn't long before an uproar could be heard outside. Both Balazar and Magdala sat unmoving in their seats of powers, not even flinching as the wooden door before them burst open and the intoxicating power of the almighty spilled inside, filling the chamber accompanied by his voice, "At last we shall finish this."

Aztek's vision began to haze with blackness but one thing was clearly visible in his line of sight, Balazar. "You! You bastard! You sent your dogs...to kill her! She had nothing to do with this, you fucker!" As he shouted Aztek went for the Black Sorcerer, not running but going with the determination of a juggernaut. It was only then that either of his enemies acknowledged his presence as Magdala dashed into his path and put out her hand as if to stop him. "Brother, please! Don't let the hate consume you!"

His pace never slowing, Aztek raised his hand and brought it down upon her with such force that her body flew across the room and smashed into the stone wall more than one hundred feet from where she had been standing. "Stay out of the way bitch! Just be thankful I didn't come here for your life!" Her body had now slumped into a crumpled heap on the floor but he didn't seem to pay it any heed, she was not why he had come to that place.

Balazar simply watched these events unfold but made no comment or sign of caring. "Come on wizard! Summon a spell! Try and stop me!" When no response came Aztek's rage seemed to heighten and he mounted the steps to where Balazar now sat and picked the man up by his throat. "Have it your way, worm!" This time you won't be coming back!" Though Balazar now kicked his legs and tried to loosen Aztek's grip on his neck, not a sound escaped his throat.

Aztek seemed to only become further infuriated by the absence of pleading and so increased the punishment. Dropping the once mighty lord to his knees, Aztek brought back his fist and with all his strength punched Balazar in the face...ignorant of the pleeing eyes within that face. Blow after blow landed, each one driven home with the thought that this man had taken his beloved from him. The furious attack never seemed to slow or tire until a booming voice burst forth in Aztek's head, causing him to falter and stumble to his own knees, "Enough!"

"Can you not see she's already dead?" Aztek thought he knew the voice but he had other things to worry about right now, "She?" The strangled question vocalized as Aztek's anger vanished and an emptiness came to fill him. "What? You didn't think someone as fair as a grace could be a man did you?" The mocking voice relished in Aztek's misery as the Son of Chaos looked back down at what had been Balazar only moment before. Now, in place of that body lay another, the woman who had known Aztek was only capable of destruction.

Her blood had splattered all over the cloak that had helped disguise her, the marble floor that existed merely for show and the hands that had brought about her death, but her face remained whole and untouched. An illusion provided by the sorcerer of course, for in truth her face was hardly recognizable anymore, but the sight of such a delicate visage had its desired effect as Aztek screamed, "No! What have you done, Balazar!"

The voice returned, "Me? I reunited you with your family, I let you live. It's not my fault chose to kill those I returned to you. And to think, that foolish girl actually  believed in you." The words were followed by an echoing laughter that slowly faded away as Aztek looked up at the crumpled body lying against the far wall. The damaged body began to change before Aztek's eyes as the sister who had killed him became the sister who had taught him the joys of life, Lya.

Too weak to stand, Aztek scrambled over to the body on all fours until at last he sat with his back to the wall, her body cradled in his arms, and he wept. In that moment, the essence of Death was expelled from the Son of Chaos, for love was its opposing force and in its presence, he had no power. Now all that remained was a grieving man clutching the body of yet another love lost, it seemed his curse rang true yet again. Tears filled the eyes of this broken man as he rocked back and forth until another voice came unto him.

"Sleep, my son...it is over now..."

to be continued...