Disclaimer- Do I own the Belgariad or Mallorean? No, now was that so hard? And in addition to that, I don't own Baldur's Gate, which is such a cool game…

A/N- Well I love the Eddings writing, and I like fanfiction. We need to spark up this section and get some more writers down here, so let's start an Eddings section revolution! Or not…

Children

It was nearly 12 years after the great and final confrontation between the twin destinies and the realignment of the universe. Chance was no in affect, the universe had corrected itself, and now things could change out of their endless cycles. Now- things could happen that couldn't be controlled or foretold, and someone had planned for that.

In Mallorea Emperor Zakath ruled with might tempered by knowledge and the compassion of his empress Cyradis. Eriond had found a group of disciples and was spreading his word through the land of the Angaraks. Slowly but surely, things were coming together. Except…

In the tall places of the mountains of Zamad it was winter, and it was cold. Frost, snow and ice laced the powerful peaks; the air was crisp and brought a certain brisk furious cold deep into the lungs. It was the cold of flushed cheeks and playing in the snow. It was the cold of a thousand years of solitude and great blizzards that could bury whole cities. Ancient pines crested the mountains, their branches heavy with new fallen snow. It was a harsh place where only the strongest could survive.

In the high mountains of Zamad there was a small village where a group of women lived with their children and a few old men. In a small village, in the high mountains of Zamad, dwelt the revenge of a god.

In Zamad, in a nameless village, lived a great and incredible power.

And it was not alone.

"Garion!" Ce'Nedra shouted imperiously, her petite form almost vibrating with anger. Garion winced at the thought of his redheaded little wife scouring the castle for him and ducked out through hall into her path. She stopped and then smoothed her gown with gentle fingers, calling down the flush of frustration infusing her cheeks.

"Where pray tell have you been Garion?" She asked in what seemed a sweet tone but Garion knew better. He might have been a slow learner but he did learn.

"I was out and about Ce'Nedra, nothing much…" He trailed off at her expression. "I was out subduing a- disturbance." He said simply and she shook her head.

"You don't go out just to handle over grown tavern fights Garion- what were you doing?" She asked snappily. Garion looked around anxiously and finally back at Ce'Nedra.

"Just trust me all right?" He said and she glared at him. Then, for a second he could have sworn her eyes twitched but he must have just been imagining it. He was wrong, Ce'Nedra had just realized why he must have been out so early without telling her, and she was absolutely delighted. Garion could be such a dear sometimes! She smiled then, that special smile that she knew made his knees go weak and feel light-headed.

"Come on Garion, let's go have a bath, I bet you haven't bathed yet have you?" she asked impishly and Belgarion, King of Riva, Irongrip's heir and the god slayer, blushed to the roots of his hair.

"Sure." He squeaked nervously and then sighed, what was it about that naughty twinkle in her eyes that made him revert to awkward adolescence again? Ce'Nedra just smiled some more and then gasped in surprise as Garion swept her up into his arms and smiled at her before carrying her to their bedchamber.

Sometime later Garion stood in the throne room waiting for Kail to present the day's business. He held the Orb in his hand, he'd taken it out of the sword, and enjoying the feeling of it in his hands and the sense of contentment it brought him. Beside him sat Geran, Ce'Nedra had decided that Geran should start learning what it really meant to be a king, although it would be some time before Garion stopped being king.

Maybe after a couple of centuries Ce'Nedra and I can retire to someplace nice and warm for a few decades and then come back and live in the vale with Aunt Pol and the family. Garion mused before Kail finally entered the room.

"Hail Belgarion!" He announced and then they set about the day's business. Garion wasn't big on ceremony, it was confusing and tiring. After he got through the first few merchant complaints and people wanting better this and less of that he was approached by a pleasant surprise.

A man limped slowly into the throne room, his hair white and his eyes a little wild until his face settled into a smile. Garion stared for second as his mind racked itself to find out who the man was and then as he looked at the man's clubfoot it came to him.

"Senji?" Garion asked and the old man smiled.

"I was wondering if you would remember me Belgarion." The old man chuckled. Garion grinned. "I'm not here for pleasure but if you wouldn't mind nabbing a drink later on…" The old alchemist and sorcerer trailed off meaningfully and then shook his head.

"Well anyways, I'm here to extend an invitation to the rulers of the various countries of this lovely little planet to attend the first world wide conference held by Emperor Zakath." Senji said and then grinned ruefully. "Things have certainly changed in these past few years, I'm the second disciple of Eriond." The old man said proudly and Garion smiled. Beside him Geran fidgeted and Senji looked at him.

"Oh, and you must be the son that Belgarion was chasing after when he met me." Senji said. Geran nodded, somehow just about everyone seemed to be someone his father had met while searching for him.

"How is Zakath, he hasn't written in a couple weeks." Asked Garion. Senji grinned.

"Emperor Zakath was in the middle of a ferocious panic attack when I last left him as he didn't know what to get Empress Cyradis for their anniversary." At that Garion burst out into laughter.

"Kail, would you mind walking Geran through the rest of the business for today? I'd like to introduce Senji to my wife." Garion trusted Kail implicitly and knew he could easily handle the business of the day. And he was probably a better teacher than Garion anyway…

"Come on Senji, Ce'Nedra is probably holding her own little court today so you can entertain us all with some magic." Garion said with a grin on his face as he tossed the orb up and down in his hand. Senji looked at it and his face went pale.

"Is-" He started and Garion nodded.

"Yes it is, it was getting bored just sitting in the sword all day so I'm taking it out around with me." Garion said simply and Senji's eyes widened and his mouth opened, leaving him looking like a fish out of water.

"You- what- it has a mind?" He asked incredulously and the orb pulsed blue to indicate it knew it was the subject of discussion. Garion nodded gravely, Aunt Pol and Belgarath still didn't agree with him on that subject but he knew it somehow, intuitively even.

"Yes, I believe so, and so do you for that matter don't you?" Garion said jokingly to the orb that glowed a beautiful muted blue for a second. Senji looked at the stone cautiously.

"It's pleased." Garion said with that grin back on his face.

Beldin soared aloft with Vella by his side, the years had been kind to them and it felt glorious to just float in the air. He could feel the wind flowing beneath his wings and the millions of tiny adjustments that it took to keep in the air without flapping your wings. Suddenly Vella crowed in delight and swept down. Beldin soon saw what she was looking at; a v of ducks flying a thousand feet beneath them.

He cried out his satisfaction and happiness as she struck the leader, a healthy plump drake, right in the head with her balled up talons, knocking it out and snapping its neck. Beldin swooped down following the duck as it plummeted to the ground.

A second before it hit him Beldin swerved out of the path of an arrow before focusing in on where it came from. There was a young man standing there with a bow in his hands and a cruel glint in his eyes. Beldin banked around, rage in his heart.

The man's head snapped up as Vella screamed in rage and viciously attacked him. He cried out in pain as her talons raked his face and hot blood gushed over her cruel powerful claws. Beldin cried out his laughter and swept up so as to dive the man, when he saw something that made his heart freeze.

The young man snarled a word and Vella exploded in a furious cacophony of blood, bone and feathers. For a second the air was misted with blood before falling lightly to the ground. The man turned and looked Beldin straight in the eye. Beldin was paralyzed with grief and realized he was falling only to right himself and land, swiftly returning to a form that he hated with all his heart.

He stood, or at least as much as he could with his humped back and deformed body. Beldin snarled in anger and let his Will blast forward from his wretched body. Trees shuddered and birds took flight.

"Lightning!" He shouted and an explosion tore loose from his hands as a great bolt of electricity struck up and out at where the man with the bow stood. The man deflected it and then translocated directly behind Beldin.

Beldin roared in fury and let loose all of his great power. The sheer force of Will that Beldin brought to bear staggered the man but he fought back with his own considerable strength. For a moment the two were locked in combat and then the man was knocked aside.

"You- you-" Beldin snapped in rage, literally frothing at the mouth. It was taking all of his tremendous will power to not blow the man out of existence. The man took a deep breath.

"What is going on here?" Inquired a young pleasant voice. Beldin whirled around to see a beautiful young woman and an older man leaning wearily on a staff. His eyes narrowed as he recognized the man as a Grolim.

"He attacked me when I obliterated his mate." Said the man and Beldin's eyes warily took in the reactions of the other two. The woman looked outraged and the Grolim contemptuous.

"Rikar, you are so incompetent." Said the girl. The Grolim snapped.

"Shut up, this is Beldin, one of the disciples of Aldur. We cannot let him escape." Beldin's mind raced, there were three of them, the young man was strong, the Grolim was no slouch either and he bet the girl was quite able too. But did it matter? Vella was gone- he had no reason to live anymore, only revenge… He didn't bother with last words; such things were trivial, corny and overdone. Instead, he spoke with a deed.

He gathered his Will, more than he could handle and prepared to overload the area-

"Stop." Said the old man and he glowed. Beldin grinned as his power continued to flow and-

"Die." Said the old man, and Beldin fought off the spell. He couldn't gather his Will fast enough- there, he had it. He opened his mouth to speak-

"No. Die." Said the woman, and all was dark.

Beneath the pines on the high mountains of Zamad, lay the body of Beldin, a great, powerful and wise man. And then his body was incinerated in a quiet blaze of power.

"He shouldn't have been able to resist the spell." Said Rikar. His pale hair clashing with eyes so dark it looked like night was staring out at you. He stood tall, his clothes hanging about him comfortably.

"No, he was very powerful and it comes as no surprise that such a blunt spell couldn't defeat him. But he needed to be stalled." Said the old man before turning to his young female companion. He looked up into her soft non-descript blue eyes.

"I think that it is time to put your father's plan in action." He said softly.

Eriond stood staring down at the dirt beneath him, the sun bathing his back in warmth. He still had the body of a boy, a youth of perhaps 15 years but with a still angelic face. Curly blonde hair and piercing eyes gave him a very earthly beauty but combined with his aura of pure power and love he could sway the hearts of any woman and even a few men.

The crumbling ruins around him held onto existence with desperate clawing fingers, but with Torak dead and gone this place was dying. Eriond continued to contemplate the ground before sighing. What he did was for the best, it would hurt some at first, but he knew that this had to be done.

He extended a hand- he still was using gestures even after all these years- and glowed. For a second nothing happened but then slowly a man began to emerge from the rock. Finally he was free of the rock and dirt and Eriond let him go. He collapsed to his knees and took a deep breath and gazed up at the sun and the young god.

And Zedar wept.

Belgarath was reading when it hit him. A jolt that burned into his soul, a vacant gaping wound. He clutched his heart and froze.

"Oh no-" He whispered and stared wide-eyed at nothingness. He had felt this before, when Belmakor and Belsambar had died. Without even thinking about it he knew who it was that was gone. Poledra stared at him for a second before coming over to hug him close to her.

"Beldin." He rasped and then the oldest man in the world sobbed bitterly for the loss of one of his dearest friends.

Garion stood overlooking the raging ocean, hard waves pounding angrily against the rocks of the isle. He sighed and fiddled with the orb in his hands. He didn't know why but it comforted him to have it in his hands, to hold that small blue glowing stone. Beside him Senji sipped a mug of spiced rum.

"Garion!" A voice shouted into his mind and Senji looked up in surprise. Garion frowned.

"Durnik?"

"Garion I- we- Belgarath thinks Beldin is dead." Durnik spoke to Garion's mind and Garion froze before feeling an immense anger coasted through him. The orb began to glow a piercing blue and he could feel its anger in addition to his own. Senji dropped the mug as the orb began to glow, his Angarak heritage overcoming his logic as he watched the orb glow a vengeful sullen blue.

"And so it begins." Rumbled the king of Hell. He was a small-wizened old demon that looked inconsequential next to the rest of his horde. But within that wizened frame resided a power so great it made the gods themselves wary of crossing it overtly. He was trapped within this prison, but not for much longer. For even as Torak had sired his own heirs, a vengeance to reach out from the grave itself, the King of Hell had too. Other lesser demons like Mordja and Harthay and Kadjurtak and raped those pitiful human women, but only he, Ra, had seen that a deft touch was needed. He was not consumed with power as his subjects were; he was not consumed with might as they were. He was cold and ruthless in a place were heat and cruelty laid in wait within and without every shadow.

He was Ra, King of Hell and slayer of all things, his time was coming.