Ernodal nodded softly to himself as he completed a final circuit of the room while counting the ring of spears. Satisfied that everything was ready he paused to lay his palm on the crude granite block at the head of the circle.
“Don’t go getting a big head. This isn’t all about you.
Oh I know what you’ll say. Poor Ernie, gone nuts without me. It’s been one week and he’s already talking to himself in a fucking playhouse.
But it’s like I told you when we walked to Vicetina. Family is important to mortals. So is memory. This should be marked properly.”
He grinned.
“Clink wouldn’t like me spending money on a bigger memorial. But this will do for now.”
Returning to the centre of the room he turned to address the granite block.
“Once upon a time there was a king who lost his kingdom. When the usurper had secured the throne his first action was to move against those who had placed him there. His former general fled across reality to Vaul, where he took refuge among the elves to lick his wounds and plot. An elf named Chirolan was chosen to be the instrument of his revenge. So Chirolan became the first elven Navigator.”
Ernodal moved to the spear closest to the crude throne.
“Chirolan was manipulated into the path of the fallen king, who unwittingly recruited him to help reclaim his throne. They failed.”
Ernodal slammed his open palm onto the speartip. Winching with pain he dragging his hand along the edge of the spear, tearing the wound wider until the flowing blood reached the haft. As the flesh warped and knitted back together he clumsily removed a candle from a satchel at his side. With a whispered word the candle flared to life.
“Chirolan fell in the Abyss. May his spirit find peace.”
Gently he set the candle onto the bloody spear head, warm light reflecting off dark blood and cold metal. He paused for a moment before moving onto the next point in the circle.
“Before he died Chirolan had a daughter named Gadiron. She became the second Navigator. She too fell on the path to the throne.”
Ernodal opened the edge of this hand on the second spear, lit a second candle.
“Gadrion fell in the Abyss. May her spirit find peace.”
Again he paused for a moment before moving along the circle. By the time he reached the eighteenth spear the room was bright with candles and heavy with the smell of blood.
“Fionnleth was the eighteenth Navigator, and my father. He fell in the Abyss. May his spirit find peace.”
Ernodal paused here for a long time, remembering his father’s slack face and empty eyes. Then he moved back to the centre of the circle of spears and lowered himself to the floor.
“And with my father dead, I became the nineteenth Navigator. I walked the path to the Throne. And there…
*****
Ernodal fell to his knees, blood hissing as it poured from his ruined chest onto the burning rock. The smell made him gag and he lifted his tearstained face to watch his death approach. The Sovereign barrelled forwards but suddenly Camelot was between them, duelling with the enormous demon while calmly explaining how swords were superior to claws. As if to illustrate his point he parried a slash from an enormous claw and flowed into a riposte which took a chunk out of the demon’s forearm. Ernodal screamed as the same cut opened on his forearm.
It was hopeless. He had hoped that his stolen power would be stronger close to the source but instead it was slipping away. Whenever he tried to draw on his magic his ears filled with a chorus that made it impossible to focus.
…Ernodal…
…Navigator…
…Beware…
The Sovereign backhanded Camelot across the throne room and turned his dead gaze back to Ernodal. He tried to focus on a spell but the voices intensified into screams.
Ernodal, beware the Navigator!
The warning in Ernodal’s head were drowned out by an ear-splitting roar as Clink dropped out of the sky and crashed into the Sovereign like an angry comet. Ernodal’s ribs cracked as talons tore into the demon lord. The magic he was weaving whipped free and something awful formed inside his skull. The new presence spread like a flood of bile, crushing Ernodal’s psyche as it seized and remade his body. Organs and bones burst through his skin, flexing and thrashing as he was twisted to suit a new purpose. He tried to scream, but what burst from his throat was a roar of triumph…
*****
Ernodal opened his eyes in the circle of spears. The flagstones beneath him glowed with a twisting lattice of light. His blood throbbed in his ears. Something was watching him from behind his eyes, preparing to tear him apart from the inside. He choked down the fear.
“I remember what we did. What you thought…”
*****
The Usurper sent a blast of disintegrating force towards him but he was already moving, whip coiling out to lash around his enemies’ neck. Reality flickered and he was behind his target. Bracing his feet he pulled the whip taut, snarling with savage joy as the line of lightening bit into the Usurper’s neck and dragged him down onto the spear. As the speartip burst through the false kings’ chest he yanked the whip backwards so he could speak directly into his ear.
𝔑𝔬𝔴 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔡𝔦𝔢 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔣𝔦𝔫𝔞𝔩 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢 𝔏𝔲𝔠𝔦𝔉𝔲𝔤𝔢 ℜ𝔬𝔣𝔬𝔠𝔞𝔩𝔢.
The death scream of the Sovereign shook the foundations of the Abyss. As his foe dissolved he reached out along the Winding Path, drinking in a rush of possibilities that even his fractal mind couldn’t fully comprehend. The throne stood empty before him and when he ascended nothing would be beyond his reach. His triumphant gaze swept the throne room, focusing on the pitiful thing that had once been Demogorgon. The maggot was dumbfounded, still trying to understand what had just happened. Had he honestly believed that all this was his doing?
The mortals mewled as he turned his gaze on each of them, dismissing them with a glance. They were of no consequence. This one was time looped, that one might someday craft a genocide… they were nothing he had not seen before and would not see again. One was already starting to rot… but a node of possibilities was forming around the corpse.
“Camelot isn’t moving”.
He paused at the whisper in his head, explored the node further to see the potential futures it promised. The mortal whose meat he wore was still aware. That was impossible.
Unless a mortal had been bred for generations to conceal and carry one of the Neverborn.
Unless the one who wore his flesh had been weakened by centuries of hiding away from the Abyss.
If the mortal had sufficient motivation to wrest back control…
“Why isn’t anyone helping him?”
Unable to believe what was happening, he spread his wings as the work of centuries started to slip out of his grasp. It was the Navigator who took to the air. It was Ernodal who landed and ran towards Camelot.
*****
Ernodal opened his eyes. The room had disappeared and the ring of spears floated in a field of darkness.
“Curiosity. Not rage. Not disappointment. You could have taken the throne but you stopped to explore a possibility just because it was something you’d never seen. You’d rather see one new sight than rule the Abyss.”
The darkness exploded into light and violence. The spaces between the spears became a kalioscope of portals, each opening onto a battlefield or torture chamber around the Abyss.
An army of Chort tore each other apart on a field of crystal.
Stone ships crashed together in a sea of acid.
Men screamed as they fell through an endless sky with skeletal crows tearing at their flesh.
Green flames enveloped a huddle of blue creatures with too many arms.
A wave of alien anger washed over Ernodal as he felt something probe his mind to find his fears.
“If I die you’ve got nowhere to hide. Tarnik isn’t in a forgiving mood.”
The scenes faded into darkness. Ernodal rose and paced the circle, trying to shake off the emotions that coursed through him from somewhere else.
“What’s done is done, so enough of the tantrums. The throne is beyond your reach. You betrayed Tarnik, Lucifuge betrayed you. I was dragged into the middle. Now he’s dead, my family is gone and we’re stuck with each other.
You know what’s coming to Vaul from the moon. I’m going to try and stop it. You keep me and my friends alive and I’ll do what whatever I can to plead your case to Tarnik. At least give you time to plan your next move.”
The darkness faded and Ernodal was back in the room. The spear had disappeared and the entire structure was buckled and twisted. He rapped the cracked walls with his knuckles and a portion of the masonry crumbled to dust.
“I’ll take that as a yes then. We’ll talk again soon. Though I may need a bigger room next time I try to talk to myself.”
He grinned. Clink would have to find the money somehow.