Author's note: I don't own the Forgotten Realms setting, and I have never claimed to. This is a work of fanfiction. I am not making a profit from this story. I own only those characters and places that were created for this story. Have a nice day!

The Last of the Finest

In his bedchamber the powerful archmage, Semaj, was writing in his journal for the evening. He sat hunched forward as he wrote at his desk. His wrinkled hands were gnarled and twisted and could barely hold his quill. When he was done writing, he stood with great effort and reached for his staff. He leaned on it heavily and walked over to the large full-length mirror at the other end of the room. He stood before it and considered himself for a moment. His long hair was now white as snow, and many age spots shone on his skin. There was a low chuckle that came from the mirror. "Have you really gotten so old, my friend?" said a voice from the mirror.

"I have, my Lord," said the mage with a small smile as he looked directly at his reflection in the mirror. "But I am still more than capable of doing my duties for the kingdom."

His reflection faded into a tall man wearing a full set of plate mail. He was wearing his helmet with the visor down so that his faced was obscured. Silently he walked out of the mirror and stood before the aged mage. It was the Avatar of Helm, god of protection. "No, good magician," he said, his voice resounding with an ethereal echo. "You have served me for so many years without fail. I think the time has come for you to rest. You have well earned it."

"I thank you, my Lord," said the mage, his voice suddenly very weary. "I look forward to seeing the others again."

"As I am sure they will be glad to see you again as well," said Helm. "Rest now." Helm then raised his arm and extended his hand out towards the aged mage. Semaj lifted gently into the air and floated over to his bed. Then Helm slowly lowered his arm and set the old mage upon the blankets. Semaj let out a sigh of relief as his eyes closed for the last time.

"At last, I can rest," he said as he slowly lost consciousness.

In the morning, Semaj's apprentice quietly opened his door to check on his master. "Master," he said moving to the side of the bed and shaking the archmage gently. "Master, the King wonders why you are not at breakfast this morning. Master? Master?" His eyes widened with grief and he ran from the room as fast as he could.

"My Lords!" he bellowed repeatedly throughout the halls. People were barely able to move out of his path as he ran like a man who was being chased by demons and devils. He entered into the dining area of the King and all of his council. "My Lords! Master Semaj does not awaken!"

The King stood in an instant, as did the rest of his council. He moved swiftly to the door and down the hall to Semaj's bedchamber. As he passed one of his servants he turned and looked at her. "Fetch the Royal Surgeon to Master Semaj's room. Hurry!" The servant nodded her head and ran off to find the Royal Surgeon while other servants looked on with bewilderment. The King rushed into Semaj's room and saw him lying peacefully atop the covers. "Master Semaj, are you not all right?" The Royal Surgeon came to the King's side and checked Semaj. Within mere moments he straightened up and shook his head.

"It is of no use, Sire," he said to the King. "Lord Semaj is dead. I am truly sorry." Silently he walked from the bedchamber as the King stood watching Semaj's body waiting, as if he expected the Mage to awake at any moment.

Word spread quickly throughout the kingdom over Semaj's death. Scarce a person did not shed a tear when they heard the news that the last of the Guardians of Helm had perished.

Two days later, a funeral was held at the Temple of Helm for the archmage. So many people were in attendance that they all could not fit into the temple to pay their final respects. Even select nobles from the kingdoms of the Elves and the Dwarves were in attendance to say goodbye to a man who had been such a great hero.

Inside the church, the High Priest of the Temple of Helm presided over Semaj's funeral. It was the most somber event in the church's history in decades. The funeral itself was one worthy of a king. The utmost reverence was paid to the man whom the entire kingdom looked to for protection. When at last the funeral was ended and everyone who wished to had paid their final respects, the priests of the temple hefted up Semaj's coffin and carried it away. It took the strength of eight men to carry the coffin to the back of the temple where a secret stairway was hidden. The High Priest descended the stairway first, followed soon after by the eight other priests who were hefting Semaj's coffin. They moved slowly and carefully so as not to risk jostling the mage's body. When at last they had reached the bottom of the stairs, the High Priest lit a single golden candle and walked forward to light the way for the others in the procession. They moved down an old dusty hall towards a large wooden door with the symbol of Helm on it. On either side of the door was a stone statue of the Avatar of Helm. Against both walls were empty weapons racks. Silently, the High Priest removed his dagger and set it in the rack and moved to the door. The other priests set the coffin down and also removed any weapons that they, too, were wearing. The High Priest produced a key from one of his many pockets and inserted the key into the lock of the door. With a little effort, the key turned in the lock and the door swung open freely. Silently, the High Priest replaced the key back within his pocket and headed inside the room beyond. The room was already lit by many candles and there was little dust. Symbols of Helm were everywhere in the room on the walls, on the floor, and on the ceiling. He let his hand come to rest upon one of the other seven coffins in the room. "My Lords and my Lady," he said to those in the coffins. "You are once again, eight." He smiled ever so slightly and tears formed in his eyes. Wiping them away, he spent the next few moments alone within, praying. When he was done with his prayer, he returned to the door and beckoned the priests to enter with Semaj's coffin. They all nodded their heads and picked up the archmage's coffin. Their silent procession moved into the musty room that had been locked away. The High Priest motioned for where he wished them to set the coffin. They did as instructed and surrounded the coffin. Silently, they all closed their eyes and lowered their heads.

"Lord Helm, god of protection," said the High Priest.

"Helm protects us," said the other priests in a single voice.

"The last of the noble Guardians you sent to us has ended," continued the High Priest.

"Helm guides us," said the other priests.

"We return him now to you so that he may spend the rest of eternity in your grace," said the High Priest.

"Helm is our shepherd and we are his flock," said the priests. Silently they all made a holy gesture to end their prayer.

The High Priest raised his head to look at the other priests before he spoke, "Come, brothers. We should leave this place and allow the Guardians of Helm to sleep." The priests all nodded their heads and filed out the door. The High Priest remained inside as they did so. Once the other priests were gone, the High Priest finally turned to go. Just as he reached the door he turned to look back upon the eight coffins of the fallen heroes of the kingdom.

"Please," he said to the occupants of the coffins. "Never forget your promise." Then he bowed his head in respect and exited the room. The other priests stood waiting patiently as the High Priest locked the room for the final time.

To be continued…