Night of Terrors - Part 04

In the twisted mindscape of dreams, he breathed again. Here in the wonderland of the inbetween, none could escape his terror. Enough time had passed and with his possession of the young mage Severos Aven, he knew the world had gone on without him. Though the young mage knew of his name, he saw it was old and nearly forgotten. He hated that. He hated all of them for daring to let slip the one thing that kept them awake at night. Yet, he grew content with the notion of starting over. The fresh new fear of an old nightmare upon the people, making them pray for a death that escaped them as they delved deeper into ever maddening circles of torment... Galathus felt warmth kindle in his vile bones to lick his heart.

Yes, a new Dark Age to quell the Light! he thought to himself.

His thoughts were interrupted by the two.

Annoyance flooded him in a fit; how dare they interrupt his thoughts! Perhaps it was by THEIR magic that he was here. Though, any other prison than his own phylactery was beyond better. But their talking of religion and spells devised from the divine only angered him, being reminded of the Inquisition.

He would tolerate no such talking in his presence. Perhaps he would start here. Yes, the feeling of life was anathema to his eyes and he would make it pay.

He gathered him in a cloak of inky blackness and green hellfire. His strides took him straight to them as they tried to break the dreamscape. Even now, he felt a drawing unlike any he had felt to the one called Ursa. It made him pause for a moment, but only just a moment. No matter, he thought. Their willingness to be the first to be mine will be remembered as I twist their flesh!

With that being his thought, he stepped into full view, relishing in the look of despair and wary glances as he closed. "You talk and try to break this enchantment," he spoke . "You tell of your life and faith willingly to one who would manipulate every faucet of your being. Yet, you speak of darkness? Your ignorance is refreshing but unforgivable. Give not your faith to Her, but unto me. For I am the god you will love in fear and despair! Now... bow to me," he finished, gesturing with his left hand to Ursa and Orla.

Ursa did not even need to think about what to do next, the spell she needed already committed to memory.

"Dea divinae manus!"

He laughed as he felt her faith pour into the spell. His own power raised to meet him with no flourishes of hands but the razor edge of his malice and will. The spell wrapped around him tightly. The Fade was not divine nor arcane but beyond the realm of Life and Death. With one pulse of the hellish power, he swatted aside the spell, watching it shatter with a glee in his lifeless eyes. Even though she had faith, the ease of which he had broken the spell told him enough that her faith was not absolute. There was something deep inside that gnawed at her. What was it? Fear? Hubris?

"You dare…" The Lich spoke aloud not in anger but mirth and interest now.

"I dare…" Ursa acknowledged.

The Lich motioned motioned with his own hand drawing upon his magic, a hellish green ball of flame writhing into existence. Spell complete, he tossed it in her direction.

"Frange ut in Cantatio! " Ursa sounded quickly dispelling the flaming sphere before it struck her.

The Lich laughed than, not in rage or even anger but mirth and amusement. A full and powerful laugh that shook the very room with the Lich's amusement.

"Well done… " He offered in a softer voice. "Well done indeed! Yet, I sense something within you... Some small, darkness within your heart of hearts... You hide something you do not wish to see yourself. Shall I reveal it for you?"

Ursa was suddenly confused. "I don't understand?"

"Oh, but it is so very simple child. You seem so intent upon saving this Fair Maiden." The Lich waved his hand dramatic fashion until the Lich nearly laughed at his own words. "I find myself amused to no end by the very idea of letting you try … and fail. And for what? To save this conniving priest? What, pray tell, would Fernoia, goddess of chaos personified, give unto you for this deed?"

Kelmoran could feel his evil filling the dream now. It was if someone had pierced the wards of the Mortith once more. Yes, there was no doubt that the bindings had weakened. By what, he did not know. However, it was not enough. "Ah... It appears a new hunt must be had... And your little secret, Ursa Blacksong, will be mine.

"Hunt?" Both spoke aloud, still clearly confused.

"Hmmm, you will see soon enough," was the lich's only taunting response.

The Lich spoke words at such a speed and foreignness that Ursa had no time to think of a counter spell before the world blurred.

Here, mixed with the Weave of magic the hellfires of the Fade bound into tight and unyielding cords of the spell, nightmarish dark generals reaching outward towards Ursa.

His mind was sharp, but he could hear the Aeran words mixed with others in her spell. It was a pale facsimile of the true Aeran language. His spell would be the first lesson he would give her.

" No!" Orla sounded her hand reaching out suddenly grasping her companions hand in the moments before the spell took full effect and than in an instant both were gone.

Much to his surprise, the banishment had worked upon her. No, upon them both it seemed.

It was than an unfamiliar pain struck at him. It was curious in that it happened. And with that pain, he felt his power grow weaker; Kelmoran felt his body fade to nothing but a specter of what he was just moments ago. Something was missing now. It was as if he had forgotten something important.

But wait, there was still the promise of the hunt, and once more a sense of dread purpose filled him and laughter cold and cruel escaped his hollow chest.

Joint post by - D2wintr, Rosmary, Thaen93, LaserSexPanther ...

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