"Evening readers. Here is Chapter 10. This was a hard chapter to write. I am slowly coming to conclusion that Kiava is not as impressive a character. Inti and Sara have a fantastic story and Danyal and Sundar have a brilliant emotional rollercoaster – but Kiava at the moment hasn't done much. Let me know in a review what you think of the characters. I am constantly trying to improve my writing. This is also the middle chapter of the third book – so we are now halfway through the series. Wow! Three cheers! Halfway through Legacies. How have you been enjoying yourselves so far? To Celebrate, here is without a doubt, the most epic chapter – and longest – I have ever written. Applause please, for the accumulation of Marsade and Rafiki's battle. And the Birth of Monstrosities.

With so many words, some typos will slip under the radar, so I beg of you, be patient as you have always been. Now… Enjoy.

For the responses, you all said a similar thing and I got back to you personall

y this week, so I will simply leave a single one. And, in the interests of keeping the word count below 8000 words, here is the collective response:

You all seemed to like Zira and Vitani's interaction – so I think I shall rearrange my chapter listing and return to them a little sooner rather than later. Kiava has some interesting stuff with Sarafina next. Hmm… Which would you like to see more of? I can compress some of the Chapters and fiddle a little. Just let me know in the review. I am glad you like Zira – I was worried I have overdone the sarcasm a little, but you are totally right she is trying to pretend nothing has changed, clinging to the familiar. She desperately doesn't want Vitani to know she is dying. She would see it as weakness.

An Alliance from Hatred is fragile – but an Alliance of Justice is much easier – and the two will swap around quite a bit. Where is the line, between justice and revenge? Some interesting Theories people. Keep them coming!

Cheers: Haradion"

Chapter 10: Oathbreaker and Firepriest

It was nightfall by the time they reached the mountain. It was so high! Its size had concealed its true distance and it had taken the better part of the day to reach it. Now Asamode the Shai'tan made his way up the winding twisting pathway which was hewn into the side of the mountain, with cold deliberation. His face was a mask of apathy, but his movements told of one with purpose. He knew precisely what he was doing and why.

The two Shaman kept their distance. They were not eager to engage the Shai'tan, though they were fairly confident they could manage Asamode, they did not wish to give away their presence. They followed close behind. Briefly, for a moment, he had seemed to pick up a strange scent, to pick up an unusual smell in the air – but then he had continued as normal, seeming to dismiss it as meaningless.

Then… he disappeared.

One minute he had been ahead of them, rounding a corner on the twisting winding pathway and the next, when the Shaman turned the same pathway less than a minute later… there was nothing. The pathway came to an end, ending in a sheer drop. Yessen paused.

"Did you… sense… anything?" He asked, Rafiki, who shook his head.

"No. Rafiki felt nothing. We would have felt it if Marsade was weaving magic, wouldn't we?" He asked. Yessen nodded.

"Unless… he has discovered some way to mask his presence?" he guessed. Rafiki shook his head.

"Impossible." He said, adamantly. Yessen hesitated.

"These gateways would have been impossible, without also the power of a second Rod. He had three. Who is to say what he capable off now?" He said, sounding unsure for the first time. Yessen was normally as stubborn as a rock. Rafiki approached the side of the mountain. He felt along the edges of the smooth, cold rock. Then smiled.

"Ah… Marsade." He said, grinning, as he gripped a particularly large outcrop of rock and pushed down. Then the side of the mountain slid away. It disappeared, like water, with a ripple of light. Rafiki grinned.

"Okay. How did you do that?" Yessen asked cautiously.

"It's an illusion. Based upon a memory. Before this was hallowed out, it was a regular mountain face. Marsade must have spent hours memorizing it exactly, and then hallowed it out with his Shamanism, to move solid earth and rock away. Then conjured an illusion based upon the memory. He combined that with a weave of pressure – to give the feel of a solid wall." He said, smiling. Yessen shook his head.

"So complex. Now we know why he's not been using as much power as we assumed he had. Who knows how many illusions he is maintaining? From such a distance, it would be huge drain on his resources. But how did you know moving the rock would reveal it?" He asked. Rafiki paused.

"Rafiki thinks it is not complicated enchantment – that would take far too much power. But the illusion and pressure wall is anchored to the rock. Like a branch – of which the spell is a leaf. Move the rock and you move the illusion. Marsade need only enchant the rock to be drawn back to its original place… very clever. Very very clever." He said. Marsade grew quite.

"He has done nothing but think of new ways to use his magic for his own ends for centuries – whilst the rest of us did what we could to conceal our true nature. That may be our undoing. We are like infants, trying to best a master…" He said. Rafiki bared his teeth.

"Rafiki wouldn't say that. Marsade is powerful – and dedicated, but his power has limits and we are not without our own skills and talents." he said thoughtfully.

"Agreed." Yessen said, as they entered the tunnel, deep into the mountain. The illusion reformed behind them, sending the tunnel into pitch black darkness. They continued in darkness. There was no sign of the Shai'tan. Either he had entered through a different entrance, or else was now too far ahead. The walls of the tunnel were smooth; the tunnel did not seem natural. It was to clear cut. But then Yessen recalled how Marsade had shot beams of superheated flame at his foes in the past. Marsade must have tunneled his way through a mountain with his dark magic. The air was damp and smelled not dissimilar to Carrocscir – a place Rafiki had had the misfortune to visit on a few occasions. It reminded him of the lair of a River Lord.

"Do you think we can risk a little more light?" Rafiki asked. In answer, the tip of Yessen's staff began to glow a soft jade, giving them a tiny pinpoint of light to see by. It was enough. The tunnel opened out into a small antechamber and Rafiki saw three other tunnels split off. Rafiki pressed a hand against the wall to steady himself, as he inhaled a lungful of the musky air, trying to desire which way to go.

"Do we try to follow Asamode? Or look for Shan-Yi?" Yessen asked, but Rafiki recoiled from the wall, bringing his hand to nose, snorting in disgust.

"Blood!" He hissed. Yessen winced.

"What?!" He asked, but Rafiki made wide sweeping gestures at the walls.

"Its blood! I thought the air was damp- but its blood. Old and fresh, streaking the walls!" He said in horror.

Yessen looked and gasped aloud. It didn't quite cover the wall from floor to ceiling, but it was prevalent. Streaks of blood along the wall and across the floor, as if a carcass had been dragged. The walls and ceilings were flecked with more dots of the glistening red fluid, splashed with black and yellow in a few places. Now Yessen looked closer, he could see deep jagged grooves in the walls were claws had scratched and sheered along the solid rock. Yessen was almost sick.

"I don't suppose there is any chance this was all meat? Prey?" He asked. Rafiki shook his head.

"Absolutely none. Can't you feel it? Cold, against the skin? Pressing against the back of your eyelid when you shut your eyes… There was fear in these tunnels… this place is cursed. And I not entirely sure it was Marsade's doing. Cruelty of such a degree can leave the land scarred, without needing a sorcerer or warlock to do it… Like Carrocscir…" he said.

"Or like the Outlands…" Yessen said darkly.

"Golgorath is a piece of hell on earth." Rafiki agreed.

"I didn't mean the Tower… I meant the wasteland… That day will haunt me for the rest of my life, Rafiki." He said. Rafiki didn't answer as he forged ahead, down one of the tunnels, following the scent of blood and decay.

"We must investigate this…" Rafiki said, as Yessen followed.

The tunnel spiraled down, deep into the heart of the mountain and the air became even more congealed with the smell of blood and death. And fear. There was fear in abundance, fear and pain and grief and sorrow. Such despair. It made Yessen gag to feel it. He could almost taste it – and with ever step he took, he could feel the memories of this accursed place, echoing… echoing and audible for those with the gift of the Sight. If he chose to listen. He didn't, for now. He couldn't bare it.

The tunnel opened out into a wider chamber.

Rafiki gasped. In the centre of the chamber there was a large round stone, about waste height for an ape – neck for a feline. It was huge and would have taken some effort to move it. Black, polished and as smooth as crystal, it took up the majority of the room. Rafiki took a step towards and felt something crack under his feet. He looked and the empty eye sockets of a skull, stared up at him. He almost flinched, but instead leaned down. It was coated in dust and a reddish rust that suggested dried blood. It wasn't alone. The floor of the chamber was covered in remains. Felines, apes, mammals and the telltale spine of a serpent, birds and prey. From seven continents. Around them were smaller, darker piles of dust. Five of them. There was a truly horrible, systematic layout to the piles of dust. The bones were spread unevenly, as if used and discarded without a care, but the piles of dust were arranged at equidistant points across the room in a deliberate manner – almost as in a circle, with the polished black stone at its centre. Yessen leaned over a pile of dust and reached out to touch it.

"Rafiki wouldn't…" Rafiki warned, but Yessen touched it, brought it to his nose and sniffed. Then tasted it, before spitting it out – incase it was poison.

"Its ash. Pinewood, Ash, Yew, Oak and Holly." Yessen said. Rafiki raised an eyebrow.

"Northern. Definitely Marsade. Nothing else could get those, particularly the holly." He said.

"These used to be fires… What would he want with corpses…" he paused.

"No…" he whispered. But Rafiki had already jumped up and practically ran over to the polished black stone, a cold, stinging dread clinging to him. All thoughts of Asamode, Shan-Yi, and their mission abandoned.

Next to the stone, there was a second. A stalagmite it seemed, but of flint. Unnaturally formed. He ran his hands over first, the one in the centre of the room. Sure enough, there were lines, grooves in the stonework, deliberately carved in circular patterns, spirals and whirls, away from the stone and into the floor. Grooves… Grooves, for Blood.

"He couldn't… He would not go that far… what manner of madness…" Yessen whispered, but Rafiki was shaking his head.

"Sacrifice…" He cast his gaze from the skeletons around them, unable to look at those he had failed. "It's an Altar…"

"HE CAN'T BE!"

"He's practicing Blood Magic! Using live sacrifice… Black Magic, the wickedest and cruelest form of Shamanism. Dark Sorcery. He has been fueling his magic with the ruthless, merciless deaths of innocents…" He said. Now Rafiki struggled to keep down the contents of his stomach. He clasped his staff in both hands, his knuckles turning white.

"Rafiki is going to tear this Mountain into dust! I will burn it to the ground! Along with Asamode… In the name of every soul that died here!" He hissed, anger boiling through him now. Anger, hot and seductive, anger, powerful and dangerous, the like he had not felt for three hundred years. Anger which could summon forth the fury of the Gods, the very fire of Heaven against his enemy. Yessen placed a hand on his arm, but he himself was shaking with rage.

"Never in anger. Never with cruelty." He said. "We need to find Shan-Yi. Then we can give these souls justice." he said. Rafiki's eyes fell on the stalagmite like Blade. How many souls had been slain by it? Fifty? A hundred? Two Hundred? Rafiki had not seen Marsade for three hundred years. Was it possible that there were more than ten thousand dead to such evil?

Forcing themselves onward, the Shaman continued, passing through that cavern of evil. Now ahead of them, they could hear voices.

"…discovers this, we can be ruined…"

"You were never one to fear the Emperor, Asamode. You know we can guarantee our success here. Now, tell me, what news of the Other Shai'tan?" A familiar voice said. Marsade. The Orangutan was in the next tunnel, speaking, it would appear, to Asamode.

"The Emperor plans to travel to Golgorath personally soon. When he does, he will take Amun with him." Asamode said, calmly.

"And where does Amun sit with our plans?" Marsade asked.

"Amun is loyal to the Emperor. He respects Ben-Kai-Ra, more than he fears him. So he is either brave, or stupid. When we make our move, we will have to deal with him. However, I suspect that the Emperor will use Amun to crush the designs of dissidents in the Pridelands. Rish'ut seems to be having issues maintaining his power and the last I heard, Sekmet was on a wild goose chase. There are rumors the Prince of the Pridelands survived."

"He did. And I am in contact with Sekmet. We have a useful ally in her. I have resurrected an old friend to aide her in her hunt. One who will never tire, never cease. You need not concern yourself with them." Marsade said. "That leaves Mortread. Where would he stand?"

"That would depend. I think we can use him – but he is a weakling. Young, inexperienced and barley out of adolescence. I think we would have to force his paw."

"Don't bother. If he needs to be forced into action, then he is not putting his all in and is therefore, a liability." Marsade said. Amun shrugged.

"Rish'ut… well, you know his plans." He added.

"I do." Marsade said.

"That leaves Raeveal and Leviath."

"Raeveal, we can count on, Leviath, I think will follow her brother." He said.

"Be sure. Once we unleash our ultimate weapon, the Pridelands will fall within a day." Asamode said, almost gleefully. "Then nothing will stop us. Not the Pridelanders, not the Shaman, not the Emperor. The entire world will learn to bow before me and me alone."

"Just so long as you keep to your end of the bargain…" Marsade said. Asamode grinned.

"You have my word. The Shaman – and their rods, will be yours, as with that tiny section of the Pridelands you desire. You can have the whole place if you wish, when I am emperor, I will have the whole of Africa to play with." He said. Marsade grinned.

"You are generous, Asamode. Once you are emperor, however, those lands should be more than adequate for my needs. So long as I get my regular import animals… My hunger will not fuel itself. I have no desire to rule – if I did, you would not risk allying yourself with me." Marsade said. Asamode paused.

"You never did explain why you picked my side. I cannot usurp the Emperor without your assistance." he said. Marsade grinned.

"You know full-well that out weapon as you put it, took some… experimentation. Most died, went insane – either way they were useless. There was also a level of… personal sacrifice, which the Emperor was not willing to commit to. You are not afraid to get your paws dirty in what some would name an abomination. You suit my needs. I am more than willing to repay those who assist me." Marsade said. Now it was Asamode's turn to grin.

"Ah… Abominations. Some are too quick to judge… the supernatural is only an extension of the natural in ways we are unused to seeing. It is a small price to pay for such reward… One I suspect the Emperor will live to regret not paying. He will be the easiest to break, I think. Once you know his secret. His Jewel is his heart you know… he actually has one – though what for is a mystery to me. His Jewel is the one thing he cares about… break that and you break his power. It's no wonder so few know of its existence… or its true value." He said laughing.

"Let us go and leave our… guests… to their rest. They need it." Marsade said, giving a cruel laugh.

When the cruel shaman had left the room, the Two Shaman entered. Both had the same hallow expression, the gaunt eyes. Two see cruelty was one thing. To see it in the shape of one they once named brother – to see one they loved and respected choose to commit monstrosities, was another entirely. The carven they entered was not as wide as the previous one, but though the floor was dusty and dirty, it was not littered with the bones of the long dead. It was disconcerting however. When Asamode had spoken of guests, he had spoken of Prisoners. There were no obvious cells, or bindings of any way. A quick look at a few of the dead, told him they immobilized some other way. There were a few plants and poisons which could keep a person immobile if given, but given the Shai'tan previous methods, he suspected they had simply broken the Prisoner's legs, to prevent them from crawling away.

"Asamode is planning to betray the Emperor and take power himself?" Yessen asked. Rafiki nodded.

"His Jewel?" he asked in confusion.

"Have you ever heard any tales about… Jewels?" Yessen asked.

"I have heard stories of Crystals and gems which grant their wielders terrible power… Let us hope they are not true." Rafiki said. Yessen moved forward, though, not listening, a sound had caught his attention.

"Wait…" He said and then rushed forward. In the opening where Marsade and Asamode had left, there was the sound of movement. The Shaman made their way into the cavern, where, in front of them, they could now make out, shapes. Others, now the Shaman had left. They were felines, lying on the ground in the dirt, blood and waste. The stench was overpowering. They were dead. Or nearly. Rafiki paced from corpse to corpse. They all bore identical wounds, their belly's ripped open and savaged apart. Apart from one. Though most were Lions, one was almost twice the size and was clearly male, despite sporting no mane. It was a Tiger. And he was breathing.

"Shan-Yi…" he said, slowly. The great Tiger's eyes flickered open, his breathing slowing.

"Ah… Yessen… My Old friend. Forgive me." He said. Shan-Yi, the Tiger, as he stared up at the Shaman. He was a huge creature, larger still than the Emperor – the greatest Rafiki had ever seen. He would have once been strong – but now, he merely seemed old. Old and broken. His body was covered in half healed scars and bruises. Injuries designed to cause the most pain and the least damage; the marks of torture were clearly visible upon his form. His eyes were a dark gold and his pelt a display of Black and orange, now discoloured and dirty, ragged. Withered, by age and exhaustion.

Around him were over shapes. Lionesses, asiatican mainly. Most were dead. Rafiki thought back to that terrible altar where bones littered the floor. They were probably the lucky ones to die here.

"Yessen…" Shan-Yi said again, his voice coming out in dry gasps.

"I failed… I failed… the Imperium is Fallen. Fallen… It was once no, proud… Magnificent… Three Dozen tribes, Prides, clans… all working together… With one leader… a strong leader. It should have been perfect. All disputes solved with justice and fairness… Peace… True Peace…" He said. The Tiger seemed tired. Exhausted and it was little wonder. Rafiki looked silently, but Yessen seemed devastated at the state of his former friend.

His rod was moving quickly in his hand, cantrips and incantations rolling off his tongue in quick succession, spells, charms, enchantments. It mattered little what them named them. It was the same thing. Shamanic Magic. It peeled off the top of his rod, like green mist, coiling like a dozen serpents, the faintest smell of mint and nut oil, in the air as he weaved his magic, trying to heal the many injuries. The Tiger motioned for him to stop, which, regretfully, Yessen did.

"The Insurrection was best thing that could have happened to us… it taught us to value peace. It stung, the scent of defeat, for generations… We lost thousands in that bloody war, but it changed us for the better… we swore… we swore… not to repeat the mistakes of our ancestors, who started it. We did it Yessen… We did it. We had lasting peace… Why… Why would Kai ruin it?"

"You had peace?"

"The Life of a Tiger, of the Imperium is not easy, friend… We have centuries of War, of corruption, running through our veins… Imagine, having every wrong natural impulse. That ever present urge to kill. To conquer. To rape and murder and pillage. To take what was yours! The conscience of a Tiger is easily seduced… Oh, for that Envy the Lions and out feline brethren… I envy their ability to instinctively do good…"

"You have an instinct to kill?"

"Love, peace… They do not come easy to us… They are habits, taught and enforced. Habits we burn into our souls… We tried… We tried so hard to overcome them. To beat our impulses. Every single perversion were drawn to, we rebelled against. And we managed it. Until Kai. He was our weak link. He rejected our lessons… He rejected our self control. He taught passion, rage and power. He taught supremacy and cruelty led to power. He chose to embrace the ancient teachings of Shien-Su. The Conqueror who rose against the other Tribes in the Insurrection. The One you ended, Rafiki – Oathbreaker. The One you ended in Light." He said, looking at Rafiki now for the first time.

"Shan-Yi… Tell me what happened… I don't think you have much time left." Yessen said. The fact his old friend was dying that was perfectly visible.

"Kai… He killed them all. Every last one of them…" He said.

"Kai? You mean Ben-Kai-Ra?"

"Kai… He led the Shaman, Marsade to the Imperium. And with him at his side, he demanded that he be made Emperor… he demanded we make him the leader of his people and promised he would use this Shaman to conquer the Pridelands… Conquer Africa… Asiantica… Europia… Oceania… Ameria… He would conquer the world."

"The Imperium laughed at him… We were fools then… But he had been changed. I don't know if the Shaman changed him, or if he found the Shaman after his change… But I don't think he expected to be refused… he seemed so sure… so strong… It broke him when we told him it was mad dream… When we told him it was pointless… That even if he could do as he said, it would be useless – we did not want war. Not even if we were guaranteed success."

At this Yessen smiled

"I knew it. That is the Imperium I knew! The Imperium I remembered! I knew this couldn't be the world of the Old Imperium!" Yessen said triumphantly

"Kai didn't listen… He demanded war… We never knew why… He once valued peace… Seven. Seven followed him. Beware the Seven. We named them 'Accursed' for their treason – but on his command they murdered their families. Mates, brothers, sisters, parents, friends… Their closest. Seven. Shai'tan, we named them."

"How? Where is the Old Imperium, Shan-Yi? Where are the other Tigers?" Yessen asked. Shan-Yi shook his head.

"Gone… Gone… Marsade… the Shaman… he used… A Single Curse. One Spell. A Word of Power. And the Land was engulfed in white light – a light brighter than the sun, as Shamanic magic ripped apart the fabric of creation! Light that turned the land to ash… It's still uninhabitable. Anything that goes there dies in a week… of some invisible poison. Scarred forever."

"Everyone?"

"Except a few survivors… And myself. The Shaman healed us… and took us here… Kai, crowned himself Ben-Kai-Ra. Ben: King. And Ra: God. Crowned himself "King-And-God" of Earth… And it's my fault… My fault… My fault… I should have seen… Now he will go to other lands… and kill there… With their magic… And it's all my fault… I fear death. Every soul I have wronged… everyone that died as a result of Kai's madness will damn me for crime… My terrible Crime."

"What Crime, Shan? What could you have done?" Yessen asked, his eyes filled with tears. So much death.

"Crime? I fathered a monster. I am Shan-Yi. Born, Shan, son of Kharr-Yi. I am the Last Emperor the Old Imperium. Last lord of these lands." he said.

"You're the True Emperor? The one Ben-Kai-Ra Usurped?"

"I am just Shan now. Shan-Yi no longer. But, Kai, rejecting the Name Kai-Yi, when he crowned himself… Kai is My Son.

My gift to the World.

That is my crime… I have unleashed a monster upon this fair land… My own Son now kills and conquers in the name of My Kingdom, which he has claimed as his own." Shan-Yi said.

There was deathly silence.

Rafiki was stunned.

"My friend… You have nothing to beg forgiveness for. And by tonight, you will be in Paradise." Yessen said. Shan-Yi gave a hallow laugh.

"Marsade has cursed me. I cannot die without permission. His healing keeps me alive. I doomed to live with my sins." Shan-Yi said. Yessen shook his head.

"What one Shaman does, another may undo. Just give your word." He said. Shan-Yi gazed up sadly.

"Spirits bless you, ancient friend. I have lived a short space of time compared to you… But if you can speed my passing… Do so. With my eternal thanks. I would prefer oblivion to this torment. End my existence. I will not call it life." He said. Yessen nodded.

"Fair well. My friend." And his staff flickered for a brief moment.

Then, a hundred wounds, injuries and hurts erupted into existence all over Shan-Yi. He gave a brief sigh of relief as every healing was undone. Then, his body melted away, into dust. Like dew on the wind. Yessen swayed in the air. There was much to take in. Too much. And like the breath of dawn, Shan-Yi turned to dust, leaving the world and all its sorrows and pains.

"Farewell… You lived a life of Peace and Duty... You rejected your violent and evil impulses and leaf the Imperium to greatness. Emperor Shan-Yi. Your kingdom will mourn your passing… Until the mountains fall and seas dry." he said. The Phrase was unfamiliar to Rafiki, who guessed it was an Imperial funeral custom. He sighed in frustration. Now they knew two things. They knew the origins of the Imperium. The Son of the true emperor had usurped his father and now, allied with the Shaman for certain – though now it seemed, their alliance was frayed, for now Asamode worked with the Shaman behind his emperor's back, planning to usurp the Emperor himself. Shai'tan. Where everyone was as bad as Scar.

"You are a master of miracles…" A voice said. Yessen and Rafiki whirled around and they saw lying on the ground among the dead and the dust, a second form. A Lioness. And not Asiatic. African.

"Please…" She whispered. Rafiki immediately bent down, checking out her wounds. She was alive.

"Please… End me too… Give me the same gift. Kill me. Before it comes…" She said. Rafiki glanced at Yessen.

"She's healthy. We can help her." He said. The Lioness shook her head.

"My Kings… No. No… It's coming… Only days away now… and when it does… It will kill me…" She said.

"She's delirious." Yessen said and joined his friend. He checked over the other corpse.

"Ugh. These have been chewed apart…" he said.

"Chewed… Killed… Please… Give me the same gentle death, before the same befalls me… I beg of you…" She said. Her eyes were screwed shut now as if in fear. Or in pain.

"We can help you. Marsade can't hurt you anymore. Nor can Asamode…"

"No. You're wrong. He's already killed me. I have days… but his healing… I cannot end it myself. You must… Before it comes." She said.

"Before what comes?" Yessen asked, but Rafiki was wringing his hands frantically. He had just finished checking her for injuries.

"Yessen… She's pregnant!" He said.

"What!"

"Yes… It comes… From inside me… The monsters… the creatures…"

Rafiki was struck by a sudden overwhelming sense of pity. She was mad. Truly mad. She despised the child she now bore. It ripped into his heart.

"No… No, we'll help you. Think about it… You have a cub on the way! Think about the cub." he said, trying to give her something to hold on to. She shook her head violently.

"Not a cub... A Nightmare... I watched those who came before be torn apart from inside out... I had a cub once. Koron... Such a beautiful boy. Such a strong one. He died like his father... in the dust, but at home... Not like my daughter... on that Stone... Just a cub, but she died like the rest. On that altar of stone. The chanting and darkness… The Flame. She died… They all died to feed him. All except for the mothers... The Nightmares killed them..."She said, glancing at the other corpses, ripped to shreds at her side." She said. Rafiki recoiled.

"What do you mean nightmares?"

"Nightmares… Foul and an insane – far worse than their father. Its father is cruel, but the monsters they bore, they are worse…" She said. Yessen's staff whirled in his hand.

"The father? Is the Father alive? Can we help you?" He asked, desperately. He had just lost a close friend and was loath now to abandon the innocent."

"No… Not his father. The nightmare's father… The Shai'tan!" She gasped. Then began to shriek in pain.

"The Shai'tan! You mean… You mean… Your cub… Is Asamode's?" Rafiki asked. Yessen's eyes widened. No. That wasn't possible. She was a lioness. A lioness. Would Asamode break that most basic of natural laws? He had taken a lioness, unwilling and… No. He couldn't even think that. But it was true. She was baring a monster. A Half-breed. A Hybrid.

"We can still help you…" Rafiki said.

"I am afraid you can't…"

Another voice said. Both Shaman whirled at the sound and there, standing in the archway of the second cavern, was Marsade. The Orangutan had turned greyer since they had last met. His fur was streaked in blood and dirt. But his gaze was a cruel and as hate filled as it has ever been. He raised his staff at the two shaman and without another word; fire flew at them, streaming from the top of his staff like water from the source of a river. Rafiki and Yessen both made identical movements with their own rods and the Fire clashed against the air like a wall of stone, spraying away. They felt the heat and the light flared, but did not burn them. Marsade smiled.

"I see you have followed me at last. Welcome to my humble home." he said, with a flourish. Yessen growled, teeth barred.

"Does your depravity know no bounds?"

"Well, that's not an Orangutan hybrid being birthed over there, does that count?" He said, mockingly. Rafiki almost screamed.

"You are a monster!" And slammed the ground with his staff. The Mountain shook, light flashed out, crescents of luminous gas flying towards the Orangutan at speed. The Ape span and they clashed into the side of mountain, leaving deep cuts in the stonework.

"Don't you want to admire my work? It took quite a few tries to get it right… A Hybrid is not a natural beast after all… I had to make a few… modifications to make them compatible. Asamode was more than willing – I think he actually enjoyed the process, you know. All in the name of exploring nature you understand. Behind him the Lioness screamed again.

"You know? I think she must be ready. She's over four weeks Pregnant you know."

"Four weeks? There won't be more than a bundle of cells, you fool." Yessen said, as he danced around the fire, sending arcs of light towards Marsade, who merely made a flicking motion with his wrist, sending the light into the walls, leaving burns.

"Ah… Yes. I am not known for my patience. I decided to move things along. Apply some shamanism… It's actually a variation of Healing Shamanism you know. Accelerating the growth. The first one was advanced to the age of a six week old in the space of a month. And that's a six month old Cub – not a six month fetus. The eager creature clawed his way out of his mother's womb. She howled for an hour – but still, shorter than a live birth I'd wager." Marsade said, casually.

That did it for Rafiki. How could he pervert nature in such a way? How could he pervert the very circle of life to create such abominations?

"Would you like to see the finished product?" He asked. Then, a second staff appeared in his hand. He raised both into a cross a both his head and brought them down like swords, cutting the air. The side of the mountain dematerialized and the there, Stood Asamode. The Tiger was flanked, by three of the largest creatures Rafiki had ever seen. Larger than Ben-Kai-Ra. Larger than Shan-Yi. Larger than anything.

"Interestingly, they don't appear to stop growing. You'd find it fascinating…" He said, as the Hybrids turned their gaze upon the Shai'tan. There were three of them. One howled at him in anger, a howl of pain and rage.

"What have you done to them?" Yessen asked.

"Well…" Marsade said. "The Acceleration did do some funny things. Their brains for example, couldn't possible keep up with the speed their body was growing. That has its benefits though, since they obey solely me and Asamode, without question. I could order one to chew its paw off and it wouldn't ask why. Of course, I don't think it would understand the concept of a question anyway…And their cells are deteriorating far more rapidly than you would have thought possible. They won't live very long. But I think they will serve their purpose." Marsade grinned.

"I said you'd be impressed… They are Ligers. Aren't they magnificent?"

"You are insane."

"Oh, that's just harsh! Just Imagine! With these creatures… we can topple the Emperor… the King. Anyone who would stand in our way! Of course, that does now include you. I do so enjoy our little chats… But that's the way it goes, I guess. Goodbye, Rafiki." He said. The Liger's attacked. Their claws were like swords and their teeth like daggers they were so massive. They struck out with awesome power.

Rafiki danced out of the way, and then shot his staff out, reaching out with his mind, hoping to rip apart whatever hold Marsade had on their fragile minds.

It was like ice and fire. Like the mind of that of a child, but distorted with images of pain, aggression and fury. Fear had no place, nor did love. The beasts had clawed their way out of their mother's wombs; they took their life by murdering their mothers and the full hatred of their father. It was disgusting. His mind recoiled from the mind of the Liger. They truly were insane. There was no helping them.

Yessen's staff rose.

And fire leapt out. Emerald green, it struck at the creature's and licked across their flanks.

Nothing happened. Nothing. They moved through as if nothing had touched them, no fur burnt, no skin melted away. It was as if nothing had happened.

"What is this?!" Rafiki shouted – the roars were becoming deafening now.

"They are immune to any sorcery or any magic Rafiki! These are our ultimate weapons! The most powerful creature that ever existed combined with most powerful magic ever imaginable! They are a perversion of nature – and all things derived from nature, cannot hurt them. They accept only what makes them stronger – like my Dark Magic. Natural Magic, the power of creation, from the rods of the Five Shaman that cannot touch them! And when the time is right – I shall unleash them upon Africa and upon the world!" Marsade said. He gave a cruel grin, as Asamode laughed.

"And he will help me claim the Imperium as my own! Now die, Shaman. Die, knowing what is to come and knowing that there is nothing that you can do to stop them!" He said.

The Ligers advanced.

Then the lioness behind them gave another scream.

"It's coming! It's going to kill me… Koron… my son. Falia, Mchangana. I am so sorry…" She whispered. Marsade gave her a small grimace.

"I admire your children Asamode. They have a natural thirst for blood." He said. The Liger's advanced and the Shaman retreated, for the first time in three hundred years, feeling powerless. Marsade didn't feel the need to bombard them with flame. They would simply be torn apart, like a common animal. Liger stepped over the thrashing body of the lioness, whose eyes widened.

"Nightmares… Nightmares and demons…" She whispered. Then she bit at the nearest Liger,

"NO!" Rafiki shouted, as the Liger flinched and glared at her. Marsade's own eyes widened.

"Stop!" he commanded, but too late. The Lioness struck again and the Liger responded. His saber like claws descended. Her throat was cut in a second and her body convulsed with death spasms. Marsade's grin became a snarl. Whatever healing magic he had placed upon the lioness to prevent her killing herself long ago, it clearly did not stop the Liger. It seemed only his Black Magic could affect or control the Liger's and however it worked, it could not be used to heal.

The lioness died instantly, with a sigh of relief, as Rafiki's growled in anger at another life he had failed to save. He lifted up his staff in both hands.

"MARSADE, YOU SHALL DIE FOR THIS!" He shouted. Marsade laughed. He could block or repel whatever he sent at him and then the Liger's would rip him apart. The Shaman backed into the room filled with dust, ash and bones, the one with the black stone.

Now the Liger's showed caution, but they continued anyway.

The Liger's surrounded the duo, as Marsade grinned, savoring his victory.

"Kill them." He commanded. The Liger's attacked and Yessen span his rod, striking the Liger out of the air, without magic, simply using brute force. The other two roared and screamed, mad screams of fury.

Rafiki glanced around. This was it. He was going to die. He was going to die. Five hundred years of travel, of learning, of teaching and healing. He was faced with death.

"Spirits preserve me…" He whispered. He was not ready for death. There was too much blood on his hands. He had not come close to repaying the debt he owed.

He had ended the Insurrection with Light.

Now Darkness claimed him. Yessen screamed.

"No! Not to this Abomination! Not to this Evil! I shall not abandon this world to death and chaos! I will pay any price! Any price to save it!" He shouted.

Then his hand closed around the nearest weapon he could find.

The Stalagmite, placed with such care and such precision on the altar. A knife, used for such cruelty.

He lifted it high above him and then pressed it into this own wrist.

His Blood spilled around him and Marsade's eyes grew wide with Fear.

"KILL THEM NOW!" He shouted and then all three staffs appeared around him, spinning faster and faster. Flames and jets of light, lightning and bolts of force flew at them.

Marsade's blood struck the ground, with a splash.

The floor erupted into black flame, as if he had spilled a spark on oil. It burst with a loud bang. Five piles of ash leapt up into pillars of scarlet flame. Dark magical energies span around them. A voice, as deep and as dark as the void echoed out of the flames.

The blood span up, as if animated, like tentacles, but glowing scarlet. Yessen's own eyes glowed red, with dark power. He struggled, as if fighting against a great weight. Then he screamed aloud.

"I will not be enslaved to this Power. It is mine to control!" And with that, thrust out two hands and lightning the colour of blood shot from them and hit the nearest liger. It convulsed and screamed as it flew through the air. The other Two ran. Asamode stared in horror.

"He's using your own Magic against you Marsade! Stop him!" he ordered, angrily.

Marsade flew into the air, propelled by the force of his magic. His pressed his clawed hand into his own arms and his own blood spilled onto the ground.

The Two shaman danced around one another.

Two Blood Magic users.

But Marsade was experienced. Yessen was a child, playing with fire. Marsade span, forks of lightning striking out, searing into Yessen's back. His eyes flashed with Pain and he responded in kind, but Marsade simply dodged and returned fire.

Rafiki, forgotten and unnoticed stared in horror.

"No."

He said. He gripped his staff in two hands.

"No!" He said again, lifting it high above his head.

"NO MORE!" He shouted and brought it crashing to the ground. Light erupted everywhere. Cracks of white light, searing, blinding, shot through the mountain. Sections of wall blasted into ash, turned to dust. The ground began to shake and dust and pebbles fell from the ceiling around him. A deep rumbling was heard in the deep as it shook and protested.

"Rafiki! Marsade, he's trying to bring down the mountain!" Asamode shouted. Then, when Marsade made so move, still locked in conflict with Marsade, he ran past him, trying to get away. Rafiki's flicked his staff in his direction and Asamode shot, screaming, away from them, down, deeper, down the tunnels. The Mountain was shaking down. Rafiki lifted a hand up and it closed around his friend's shoulder.

"Now. We must go." he said. Yessen turned to his friend, his eyes blazing with power, but not with Anger. Rafiki was worried for a moment, that the power had corrupted him. But His friend stared up at him. The Power did not twist you. You twisted it. He struck out again, this time, Rafiki joined his strength to Yessen and their power surged at him. Marsade crashed to the ground, overwhelmed. Two of his staffs, span off into the darkness, but he gripped his own, so tightly his knuckles turned white. His orange fur was streaked red in blood and his eyes glowed red with dark power and he coughed, contemptuously, a dozen self inflicted wounds pouring his lifeblood around him.

"No… NO!" He shouted.

"Marsade. It's over." Rafiki said, as the mountain fell apart around them.

"NOOO!" Marsade shouted. But he was exhausted. Physically and magically. Somehow, someway, they had bested him. Yessen swayed in front of him. He was just as bad, if not howled.

"I will have VENGENCE!" He shouted. Then he summoned the last of power and hurled it at the two of the Shaman. Flame curled around him and shot forth, in one final blast of hatred. Yessen could not summon enough magic to transmute a mustard seed. But Rafiki still had a measure of reserves left. He stabbed forward with his own rod. And the ball of flame, flickered, as if struck, than span away, hurled back at its caster. Marsade howled in anger and in pain and in loss, as the flame crashed into him. He did not even have the strength to shield himself, or run, or move. The Flames licked his flesh and seared into him. His eyes blazed and vanished into the inferno. Skin and fur became flesh and bone in an instant. He screamed again and the flames expanded, engulfing his entire form. He howled at the tempest tore him apart, piece by piece.

The Mountain thundered and roared as it began to fall apart. Yessen collapsed, falling against Rafiki, who half dragged, half carried him to safety. Marsade screamed and turned silent, as his form, became nothing but a blacked skeleton for a brief moment. Then the fires winked out with a final flare.

His staff fell to the ground, slowly, as if time had stopped and then crashed to ground.

Still attached to the blackened thornwood – untouched by the fire and adorned with bones and other grotesques, Marsade's staff fell to the ground, with a disproportionate "Boom". It had a tone of finality to it.

With the Mountain collapsing around him, Rafiki ceased the staff, skeletal limb and all and held it in his hand for a moment. It tingled with a brief warm, as if finally accepting a new master.

Then Rafiki spun both his own and Marsade's staff, ripping a gateway into existence, with only the faintest notion of "Home" in his mind, as rocks and boulders fell around him.

He would leave this place in Ruin. And Tell others, of what had happened here. What he had discovered. His Jewel.

Then a moment after the Shaman had disappeared, the mountain collapsed, burying the Liger's, Asamode, Shan-Yi, their victims, their perversions, their cruelties and all that remained of Marsade himself, entombing them that great Mountain. Boulders and dust and blood filled the air. Then… There was Silence.

AN:

Over 7500 words… 18 A4 pages.

There is little to say people.

I guess you finally discovered what happened to Koron's Mother and sister. She didn't die on screen, remember? Koron awoke to find them gone and found blood and assumed them gone. It's probably for the best if he never learns the truth. At least the mountain is buried for good.

Blood Magic. Asamode's Treason. Shan-Yi – and his Son. The Ligers. And the Duel of a Lifetime. And of Course The Emperor's Jewel.

Please. Review.

Haradion