"So what you're saying," Pent began to his longtime friend, "is that Elder Magic is, at its core…." He struggled for a moment with the last word, "evil?" He finished, and it rolled of his tongue with the subtlest hint of fear.
"Not at all," Cansas replied, taking but a moment to adjust his eye glass in thought, "only that it amplifies the evil in one's heart."
"I fail to see the difference, friend." Pent said, giving the man a somewhat slanted look.
"Perhaps if I put it another way," Cansas pondered for a moment as he paced back and forth, "Would you agree, Pent, that in all humans, there is some manner of evil lurking in the heart of man?"
Pent took a moment of his own before responding, "Yes," he said quietly at first with some hesitation, "yes, I suppose I would." It was a difficult thing for him to admit, for Pent was a man to believe that mankind was composed primarily of good rather than evil.
"More good than evil, I think." Cansas replied, sensing his friend's unease at the thought. Pent nodded thankfully and allowed the druid to continue, "Elder magic clings to our desires. It searches our hearts for the one thing we want more than anything else in this world and offers us the power to take it.
"Similarly, the nature of evil, is temptation – or, in a sense, desire." The words left his lips in almost a menacing manor and for a moment Pent was almost sorry he had ever inquired about the subject, but his curiosity over powered his fear and he did not stop Cansas from continuing.
"Wealth, fame, lust" and he continued to list the evils that could fill a man's heart until finally he finished with on final word, "…power." He said in an almost questioning tone, a whisper, as if he wanted to forget that it had even been said.
"But that is not the danger. The danger lies once again in ourselves, in how much we value these desires…" his words trailed and Pent noticed the man's forehead was beginning to gleam with a cool sweet, "how much we would be willing to surrender to obtain them. Bramimond, a name of which I am sure you are familiar, was said to have sold his very soul to the darkness to fuel his desire to defeat the dragons. Now he remains a recluse, faceless, nameless, the only recognition being the power he still wields at his fingertips."
Cansas adjusted his eye piece for what Pent thought was the thousandth time before continuing, "Some have called it a fair trade, for it is certain that without Bramimond's magic mankind would not have had the power to vanquish the dragons from this world. However, I have a hard time believing that anything is worth surrendering one's self for."
"But what of your brothers?" Pent asked, remembering something his friend had told him not long ago, "I recall you telling me that they are completely unresponsive, devoid of any thought or emotion. That seems a great deal different than what happened with Bramimond."
"You are correct my friend." Cansas was always impressed with Pent's ability to retain information, he supposed there was a reason the man had become the Mage General, "Elder Magic can do one of two things: it can eat away at everything you are as you slowly sacrifice yourself to obtain more power, eventually it will consume everything and you will be left nothing but a shell. Or, in the case of the more strong willed, it will consume everything but the one thing you desire the most. In this case, the person will forget why they even held the desire, knowing nothing other than that they need power to accomplish it."
Cansas shuddered at the thought. He knew it would be difficult for Pent to comprehend, but being a practitioner of Elder Magic himself, Cansas could imagine what a dreadful fate it must be to know nothing other than the desire to obtain more power.
It came to him like a whisper in the night, the most subtle, yet wonderful sound he had ever heard.
"Who's there!" Nergal shouted, frantically turning in every direction, "Aenir!" he yelled again, "Ninian! Nils!" the echoes mocked him more and more with each desperate scream.
Nergal resolved himself to believing it must have just been the wind, Valor was an eerie place after all. He turned to face the gate once more and summoned within him all the power he could muster and threw it at the giant structure before him. The doors shook for a moment and the room was filled with the sounds of clanging metal, but the gate itself did not budge and soon enough the extent of the man's power was expended and he collapsed to the floor in a fit of exasperated breathing.
'No,' he thought to himself as a few droplets of sweat rolled off his nose, "No this can't be. I am here! I was right here!" He shouted it allowed this time as he rose to his feet and approached the massive structure before him.
Seconds. Seconds were the difference that had separated Nergal from saving his wife and daughter. Seconds, he thought, it seemed so unfair. If only they had just struggled a little longer, or if someone had uttered but one more sentence he could be standing there in the arms of the woman he loved as he stroked young Nils's hair. But no, that was not his fate, instead he was surrounded only by the dead bodies of the men who had taken his family from him. He had slaughter all of them on site when they barred his passage to the gate, he didn't even let them run away when they discovered the depths of his power. No, any hope for their survival left when Nergal arrived just in time to see his wife's face close behind those massive doors, those damn steel doors.
"Aenir!" His magic having failed him, Nergal then began to bash his bare fists against the doors in an expression of pure agony. His efforts were still unsuccessful and as his knuckles began to bloody, Nergal finally broke down and fell to his knees as the tears rolled unending off his cheeks. "Aenir." He said again, this time in a tone that was barely audible.
Then, as he sat there in helpless torment, Nergal heard the whisper again. This time he could make out a few words. The voice sounded familiar, he thought for a moment that it might even be himself speaking. It came again and this time Nergal knew for sure what it was saying, "Power." It echoed, "…need more power."
"Yes," Nergal replied to an empty room, "if I had more power I could save them, I'm certain of it!" There was a moment where Nergal thought for sure that he must be going insane, but retracted the thought when he felt a cold presence wrap itself around him.
"Please, give me the power to open the gate!" he shouted, though again he was not sure who he was talking to, except that he was talking to someone.
"Is that all you desire?" the voice asked him, and Nergal felt the presence of cold intensify, but he did not hesitate in responding.
"Yes," he stated in a firm and resolute voice, "Give me that, and you can have all else." He added the last part because he understood. Nergal was a master of Elder Magic, he knew that all who delved into the darkness are faced with its temptations; that right now he was being offered the chance at unfathomable power and the enticing thought of achieving the strength to free his loved ones drowned out his suspicions of the cost it would take to do so. And so Nergal gave himself to the darkness.
Instantly Nergal was surrounded by a dome of pure black energy. It resembled one of the countless flux spells he had cast in shape and form as it poured out from his eyes and mouth. Nergal had expected some sort of pain, but there was no pain, only that same cold sensation that now seemed to permeate through the room. His last thought through the process was of his wife , a picture that had been painted of them, she was in her dragon form – majestic and beautiful – while he stroked the side of her face.
And then as quickly as it had begun, it ended and Nergal lay passed out on the floor.
"I see. Neither fate seems all that enticing to me." Pent said in response.
"No," Cansas replied with a bit of laughter, "I must agree with you, but when the opportunity is constantly there to achieve a power that is unparalleled….well it's hard to keep saying no."
"So, how do you continue to do it then?" Pent asked a little worried.
"I'm glad you asked. I have a theory, Pent." Cansas said. He was not facing Pent now. Instead his face was turned toward the horizon.
"I believe that it is the desire for power that Elder Magic seeks out. Innocently it wants to grow stronger and stronger so it desires the wielder to desire the same. So when one is in need of great power – say the strength to save a loved one – the magic offers its master such power in exchange for the user's identity. Now I said a moment ago that there is evil in all men's hearts."
Pent gave no sign of recognition, his thoughts locked on comprehending the heavy nature of his friends' words.
"But there is also good. The darkness attacks us in our most vulnerable moments, when we believe there to be no other alternative than to accept the help of our evil sides, but if in these moments one can cling to the good in their heart then a fate so ill can be avoided."
At this Pent noticed the slightest hint of a smile approach his friend's lips.
"So in the moment the darkness offers me the power to achieve my goals, I cling to a desire that is far greater than the power being offered. Yes, the power may offer the opportunity to accomplish such a goal, but the power and the goal itself are two separate entities."
"And what would you say such a desire would be?" Pent asked.
"Well, say, like I mentioned, one desired the power to save a loved one. The darkness will come to this man and offer him the strength to save her. It is important to note that there are two key desires at play here – the desire to save the loved one, and the power to be able to save her. Now, in his moment of weakness the man will likely accept the offer of power and that will be his fatal downfall, he chose a desire for power over saving the one he loved. My theory is that one must cling to the other desire, the desire for love. If one can do that, the power will still be at their fingertips, but fueld by something other than the unceasing need for strength."
It was only then that Pent noticed that Cansas was staring into an open locket and not gazing out at the horizon. He could make out the face of a beautiful young woman.
"Your wife?" he inquired.
"My desire." Replied the Druid.
A/N: Hello my friends! Ugh so cliche at the end, right? I know, I know, but I like a little hope in my stories. Frankly (and I say this with most of my writing, I don't know why) I think this started off as a good idea, but kept going downhill. I reread it a couple of times, but it still didn't seem to capture what I was going for. I know it was confusing and what not, but I don't know hopefully it wasn't too too bad.
Let me know what you think, please!
Oh, and I did not make up the Nergal, wife and children thing. Completely true. Look it up. Or get all the Kishuna levels.