 A weak mind cannot survive the depths of the Eternal Void. Absent of touch, sight, taste, smell, and sound, the day runs into night and night into day. Surrounded in an infinite darkness, black as the most complete night, chaotic souls wander, trying desperately to remember or even to dream of a past existence. The fury of the Black One bears them down, as they struggle for some stimulus for their senses, or some release from the intense nothingness they have been presented with in return for their service to the dark dragon. But there is no release, and there is nothing to remember. It is hopeless to dream in a place where hope was drowned long ago. And so the Void echoes with an endless silent scream, that no ears will ever hear.
There was one soul, however, that remembered who he had been, and knew why he had come to this place of darkness. He went back to the dream that had haunted him all of his life. Closing his eyes he focused on the nightmares that had showed him the paths to take to reach his goals, and he began to feel a hot wind blowing around him. A light pierced the shadows, and the true vision of the Void opened before him. Far away, he could hear thunder rumble, as he opened his eyes to the desolation that was so alien, and yet, all too familiar.
Around him, as always, were the ruins of an ancient city. Columns of black obsidian and white marble jutted from the ground, broken and sharpened edges gleamed cruelly in the dim light. The sky all around him was a fiery reddish hue, highlighted with streaks of orange and gold. Giant stars shone with a green light, as constellations unknown to him watched from the heavens. Ahead lay a dirt path, in the midst of the silver and bronze bricked streets, now tarnished with rust and time. The path, as in his dreams, lead up the length of a hill to a broken monolithic structure, carved from obsidian. And before him, on the dirt path stood the same dirty-faced young boy with flowing black hair.
The boy extended his hand and Raistlin walked with him to the steps of the temple at the peak of the hill. There, the same ruined ebony doors greeted him. They looked as though they had been destroyed by a great blast of flame, the silver runes upon them blackened with soot. The boy released Raistlin’s hand and walked to the top of the black marble staircase, streaked with veins of an unknown red rock. With a thunder rivaling the storm brewing above, the doors of the temple slammed shut. Soot crumbled from the silver runes, which began to shine with a pale silver light, and the ebony wood of the doors returned to its sturdy, unmarred condition. Then the boy turned to Raistlin, with an evil glint in his eyes, and he began to change.
His skin grew dark, until it matched the color of the obsidian rock beneath his feet. Raistlin watched as the boy sprouted a pair of wings and then proceeded to grow in size until he had transmogrified into a giant black dragon. Realization struck the mage, as an evil, mocking, laughter ripped through the silent world. Everything he had done; every word he had spoken, and every action he had taken was all under the influence of his god, the Black One who now towered above him.
A surge of energy slammed into Raistlin’s body, and he struggled to keep his feet. The Black One, looking down upon him, laughed again. Raistlin felt his magic returning to his body and looked up at his god with malevolence in his eyes. Then an eerie, and grating voice hissed in his mind.
“You want to kill me, dear Raistlin? I know that you do… but now you are not strong enough… No, not yet. But one day you will be. Until then you will serve… as you always have. You understand this? Yes, I see that you do… I give you leave to return… you have passed your test, young student… You had grown lazy in your power… you have redeemed yourself by following it here… It is returned to you.”
The great black dragon’s head swung down level with Raistlin; his great black eyes shining with the depth of their darkness looked into the mage’s eyes.
“You will return and be my voice, and my right hand… You understand? You will spread your evil hand across the world, and like a virus chaos will spread… You will do this because I give you this power… My Chaos Knight… My Champion… My Paladin. Your cause is my cause, Raistlin. Don’t you see? Your quest for power… that which you have destroyed… that which you have created… all things in your wake result in Chaos.”
Raistlin’s eyes dropped from the gaze of his god. He was angered at the realization that he was a pawn. Behind the dragon, the temple doors opened to reveal an altar. On this same altar he had seen the black gate that lead him to create the Empire of Armageddon and the gallows that showed him the way to regain his magic. All planned and envisioned for him by the Black One. He knew it was here that his path back to Sosaria would reveal itself when the ritual was completed.
Walking forward and into the inner sanctum of the temple the doors slammed shut behind him. The Black One’s laughter echoed around him, reverberating through the stones of the foundation. Raistlin had been played by his god… it would not happen again.
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From Dupree:
It seems like just yesterday that this Council held its first meeting, so it is with great pleasure that I announce the 30th Meeting of the High Council of Britannia, certainly a milestone to be proud of! I want to thank all of the Councilors past and present, and other officers and people who have served on the Council, and most importantly, I want to thank the people of Britannia, who have shown great support for this Council, and who continue to come forth to work with us to form a better Britannia.
Hail Readers!
Uh-oh, there's that rant icon! Fret not, its not Basil.. its me, Nick.. here in a futile effort to affect the future.