Chapter XIX

Dhark stirred, taking in the first shocked breath as consciousness and stifling heat struck at the same time. Immediately, he devolved into a coughing fit, rolling onto his back as the gritty taste of sand filled his mouth. Opening his eyes, blindingly bright sunlight washed his sight, leaving him momentarily blind until he turned back onto his stomach, propping himself up in the sand with one arm while the other shielded his eyes from the sun. Mindful of the sand, he slowed his breathing, taking in a calm controlled breath as his eyes adjusted. Sand still stung his eyes as heat, carried by wind, blasted against him, but now at least he could see.

There was nothing.

Pushing himself to his feet, he staggered against a strong gust as he tried to survey his surroundings. For as far as he could see, up to the horizon, there was nothing but a vast expanse of desert. The sunlight, filtered by the blowing sand, was blindingly bright, but tinged an eerie blood-red as the wind carried plumes of sand in waves through the air.

Reaching down, he planted a palm to the ground and felt for any signs of life, eyes closing in rapt concentration as he tried to detect anything. Nothing came, though. The place was a barren wasteland, void of anything and everything resembling life save for himself.

Turning his back to the gusts of wind, he scouted the horizon again for anything offering a glimmer of hope towards escaping the wasteland. Something in the distance glinted against the sun, hard to tell just what, but it was better than the nothingness that greeted his gaze in other directions. With a soft sigh, he started trudging towards the source, relying mainly on the rare glint and wind at his back for direction after finding little in the way of features to help guide him. Even the sun, which was settled almost directly overhead, was of little help for bearing.

Spitting sand, he trudged on for what should have been hours, but the sun remained anchored in its place. Wherever he was, it was a different world than the one he knew if time and the sun did not pass as they should. He cast another wary look skyward and was greeted by a wash of sand that stung his eyes, forcing him to halt his progress and shield his face in the crook of his arm. Heat was beginning to become unbearable, and a painful dryness was setting in his throat reminding him that his body needed a drink. He paused, scanning the horizon once the wind had passed to find the glint in the sand. Again, it seemed to be nestled on the horizon, moving as he moved.

He sighed heavily, taking another look around. It was either venture in other directions and hope to find anything before death, or to pursue the glint and, again, hope to find something before death. At least there was something, maybe, if he kept on the current course. Adjusting his robes to try and keep the flying sand at bay, he trudged onward.

Another lifetime, it seemed, passed before he began to make out the spire in the distance, sunk behind a rolling dune so that just the pinnacle could be seen. Nestled on the top, glinting in the sunlight, was a massive stone that appeared to be, to his own eye at least, a diamond easily as large as himself. He scrambled his way up the loose sand of the dune to the peak, pausing only once at the top to finally take in the spire.

It was massive, the structure a pitted ivory color with the gemstone set at the top of the structure. A winding staircase spiraled its way down until, at roughly the midway point. From the midway point down, creatures much like what he had seen in the caves, much like Xodius, flew about the structure, the sound of their leathery wings heard over the rush of the wind and flying sand. The spire itself was set in a bowl with the swell of dunes walling it in from all sides as though it had been constructed in a sinkhole, and scattered about the floor of the 'bowl' were pits where sand seemed to rush like a waterfall into the black abyss below.

A hand reached up, gripping his wrist and tugging him forcefully down while a second clamped over his mouth.

"Shh, keep down, stay low, don't let them see you or we both die."

Dhark felt the hands release him and he turned to look, a bit of surprise present in his expression as he spied Cyrius, his brother smirking like a fool as he took in the scene below.

"Thought you were already dead. Good to see you, and here of all places." Dhark hunkered himself down in the sand behind the crest where he could still see the scene below, but was not so exposed. "Where are we?"

"If I knew, then I would know more than I do now." Cyrius tugged a waterskin from his belt and offered it. "Here, you look absolutely parched. This place is miserable, isn't it?"

Dhark took the offered drink, sipping lightly to conserve before capping the skin and handing it back. "Thanks, and yes. It's a desolate wasteland."

"Sort of." Cyrius shifted to drop back below the crest, motioning his brother to do the same. "That spire's a gate, the creatures are guarding it. Not sure what the stone at the top is for, though. Saw it glow briefly and send a beam of light into the sky. Impressive sight, really. From what I can tell, every so often someone comes out of the side and climbs the stairs to the top of the spire, cleans the gem, and makes his, or her, way back down and back inside. Watched those flying buggers come in and out of the pits quite often too."

"So," Dhark turned to get another look before dropping back below the crest of the dune, "how do you know it's a gate?"

"Well, after the beam of light…it opened up. Broke into six different pieces that lowered down like a bridge from the edge of the dune to a platform in the middle. Some robe fellow popped out of nowhere and made his way into the middle, the platform lowered, and then the spire closed up again. Not sure how they managed to do it, though, couldn't see any chains or wheels to guide the spokes down proper. Magic is the best assumption I can make, especially since that gemstone," Cyrius pointed towards it, "floated the whole while in place."

Dhark growled softly as he rested back against the sand. "I don't like this place at all. Can't feel any life from it, and the sand in the air is just making me angry quickly."

Cyrius nodded slowly and spit off to the side. "Aye, could be worse though." He tugged one of his blades free. "Still got these, after all."

Dhark turned his gaze skyward and chuckled. "The sun's still high overhead. Have you seen it move at all?"

Cyrius shook his head and shrugged. "Eh. Figure the only way out is probably in that spire, or what's below it. Seems dark enough down there that the sun's hardly a worry."

"And how do we plan on getting inside, eh?" Dhark placed his palm against the ground. "Knock on the door?"

A laugh from his brother. "No. I think I'm going to jump down one of those holes."

"What!" Dhark had to pause to glance over the dune, just to be sure the flying sentries did not hear his outburst. "You're going to do what?"

"Well, here's how I see it. We either wait out here and, subsequently, die. Or, we jump down, hope it's a short enough fall and there's enough of the soft sand falling to cushion the drop, or we jump in and very well fall to our death. Either way, we either get somewhere or die trying."

Dhark snorted softly. "Used that rationale once already."

"How'd it work for you?"

"Found you, didn't I?"

Cyrius smirked and clapped his brother on the back. "Great, see? Just might work again."

"Well," Dhark took another look over the dune, "let's not just push our luck yet. Maybe the bridge will drop again."

Cyrius shook his head. "Deathtrap, sentries would see us, or we'd hide out and the thing would raise up, we drop, die, not pretty."

"And your alternative is?"

Cyrius just shrugged. "Just waiting for an opportune time to rush down the dune and jump in. Might go for the small one closest to us. One, it's close. Two, small hole means the sand's a bit more concentrated, shorter drop, more cushion."

"You are absolutely insane."

The assassin quirked his brow slightly. "Is that you saying you aren't coming with?"

"No, I'm coming. Wouldn't think of doing anything but. Just stating a fact in case I don't get the chance to say it later."

"Bah." Cyrius propped himself on the dune's crest to look down into the bowl. "You'll get to say it plenty later. You don't think these creatures change shifts, do you?"

Dhark shuffled up the sandy slope to join, snorting as a rogue gust of wind carried a bit of the grainy annoyance up his nose. "If I could, I would quite possibly destroy this desert for the inconvenience it's brought me." He settled his gaze on the swarms of beasts flying about. "These may be difficult. I was talking to one back in the cave after you vanished. He said they are all linked in their thoughts. Alerting one may very well bring the entire horde down upon us. As for changing watch-shifts," the druid grunted, shaking his head, "well, you know how tireless Xodius is. These things are a similar breed."

"I noticed. They're the same, bit different in how they act, though. Seem a bit more feral." Cyrius turned to face his brother again. "You don't think he was the one that set this trap for us, do you?"

"Xodius?" Dhark raised a brow and shook his head. "No. He is not with these. Might have been at one time, but not any longer. The creature in the cave I killed-"

"You can kill them!" Cyrius' excitement rose slightly as he turned to once more regard the swarm. "Well, now that changes everything. But, uh, continue."

Dhark sighed heavily and tried to pick up his train of thought again. "Right. Xodius. He is not one of them. The creature in the cave mentioned some sort of bond, always referred to itself as 'we' or 'us', never as a singular. Said that Xodius was a fool. Like them, but no longer, or something similar to that effect."

"Then I'm still right to call Xodius 'friend'? Well, that is indeed a relief." Cyrius' eyes widened a bit. "Ah, there it is. The pattern, you see? They all move at varying speeds, but the speeds are constant. They never change, and they all work in orbits around the spire." His eyes jumped from one creature to the next expectantly. "Eventually, all orbits meet in one place, they'll have their backs turned to us, and we can move then. But it will need to be quickly."

"How quick are we talking abou-"

Dhark was interrupted as his brother shouted the word 'go', feeling the insistent tug at his arm. No, not quite a tug. Cyrius had a firm grip and was pulling Dhark along down the slope, running in the terrifyingly loose sand. Soon, the running turned to stumbling, and then a fall. Tumbling head over heels Dhark watched the bottom of the bowl loom closer, one of the massive pits growing larger. He rolled, managed a few steps as he tried to get his feet under him, and then felt the ground shifting as he became swept in the current of sand flowing to the mouth of the pit, pulled along helplessly.

"Cyrius!?" Dhark tried to spot his brother, but to no avail The fall had disoriented him enough to lose any sense of direction regarding his brother's location.

Without warning, the sand heaved and churned, and the ground opened up into nothingness as, for what seemed like once too many times in a lifetime, Dhark found himself floating, and then falling, into darkness.

Sand. His mouth was full of sand. Dhark coughed, spitting the offending substance aside and staggering to his feet. His right arm ached from the shoulder down, and the left wrist felt sprained, but Cyrius' hunch seemed to have been correct regarding the somewhat soft impact. He remembered the fall, recalled having the breath knocked from his lungs, and knew he rolled and stumbled to avoid getting buried in more falling sand. After that, though, nothing. Nothing until waking up with a mouth full of sand.

"Maybe it wasn't so soft, eh?" Dhark stretched his arm to work the ache out of it, hand opening as the familiar gnarled staff materialized to fill his grip. He gave the staff an appraising look. At least his magic worked down here. Taking a few steps just to make sure his feet still worked, he cast a wary look upwards. Above, far too high to provide much light to the ground below, he could see the mouths of the pits as they poured sand to the floor below.

Sand covered the floor, shifting softly beneath his feet, but the darkness prevented him from seeing much beyond the massive piles of sand caused by the pits. He sighed, brushing some sand from his robes. The silence was slightly unnerving, though with it came the reassurance that somehow, Cyrius' gamble had paid off and they managed to drop in undetected.

"Hmph." Dhark took another look around for any sign of his brother. Reason dictated that he should be nearby, though at the same time, that also depended on just how long he had been unconscious.

Doubling back, he made a slow circle of the sand pile he had fallen on, looking for anything, but the fine sand had most likely smoothed out any sort of tracks or depressions. A quick check for life within the sand was enough to tell him that Cyrius was not trapped beneath the pile.

Still wondering about the location of his brother, Dhark started focusing on the rest of his surroundings beyond the sand pile. A constant hiss could be heard throughout the massive room, the sunlight from above hardly offering any sort of viable source of lighting to see. The sand piles themselves, after surveying a few, seemed to be rather small. Certainly, there was more than enough to bury a soul without much indication, but for constantly having sand from the desert above dumped onto them, they seemed to be lacking in mass.

A flutter of leathery wings caught his attention and he hunkered down against a sand pile, looking up at the source. One by one, the flight of creatures that had been circling outside dropped through the holes, sand spraying as they charged through the falling streams. For every creature that ventured in through the holes, another darted out to replace it. Changing of the guard, it seemed.

He kept low, watching the flurry of activity until the sounds of the swarming beasts faded away. Adjusting his grip on his staff, he started deeper into the darkness, pausing to check the occasional sand pile for signs of life, or death, in search of Cyrius. Details began to reveal themselves in the darkness as his eyes adjusted, including a soft blue glow that just barely caught the corner of his eye. Turning, he weaved past a few of the sand piles, the glow becoming brighter. A familiar tinge to the light, an odd sense that the hum of magic behind it was one he had seen before, manifested itself in the back of his mind.

A small orb was resting in the sand, half buried. He stepped closer, reaching down to pick the stone up and palm it in his hand. Recognition struck as he recalled Cyrius dropping one into a pouch back in the caves. Quickly, he pressed a hand against the nearest pile of sand, feeling for signs of life, but there was nothing. He growled softly, giving the orb a thoughtful look. If Cyrius had dropped it, he was long since gone from the spot. Though, considering the events that transpired in the cave, he suspected if it was even Cyrius who had dropped the orb.

Pocketing the source of light, he turned to continue his search and stopped cold mid-step. Before him, face occluded by the darkness of the caverns and the shadows of a hooded cowl, stood a man. Close to his height, half a head shorter at most. Instinct saw him bring his staff about, the head flaring with white light to help him identify the previously unseen observer, though the light quickly extinguished itself has the man closed a black-gloved hand around it.

"Tsk. None of that here, please. Rest assured, had I wanted to kill you, I would have done so long before now." The tone in the man's voice hinted at an amused grin from within the shadowy veils. "My word, I was expecting you. It certainly took long enough for you to show."

Dhark grunted softly, retracting the staff and holding it tensely at his side. "Who are you?"

"Ah, I've gone by many names. Abbaton, Appolyon, Destroyer; a multitude of others along that line." The figure waved a hand dismissively. "I thought two of you had ventured through my gateway, though. Tell me, where's your brother?"

"It is a large desert," Dhark said, looking again at the glowing stone before tucking it into a pocket in his robes. "We did not go through together. There is no telling which direction he took upon arriving. For all I know, he is dead."

"Well, fair enough I suppose. That is a shame, of course, but it would seem to confirm my own suspicions that, of your siblings, you were the more powerful amongst them." The figure turned, beckoning over his shoulder for Dhark to follow. "Tell me something, do you know where you are?"

Dhark took time to observe his surroundings as he was led through the massive cavern and to a clear exit, a wide stone archway that opened into a massive hall. There was little in the way of decoration, though, the walls fabricated from stone that matched the sand in color, torches providing ample light to chase away all but the most stubborn of shadows. The noise of shifting sand could still be heard through the walls.

"No," Dhark shook his head, "but I assume that I should?"

The figure laughed and drew back the hood. He was human with shoulder-length black hair that framed a surprisingly young face, middle aged by the looks of it. A pair of ice blue eyes turned back to regard Dhark for a moment as a disarming smile was offered.

"You smell familiar." Dhark grunted and turned his focus to his staff, using a nail to pick sand from the crevasses in the wood. "All the names you have been called aside, is there one you prefer to go by?"

"Legion?" The man shrugged. "I've long since lost any true name. There are none who can tell me what I was called originally alive on this world. Your friend, Xodius, can attest to that much."

They approached the end of the hall, stepping through another massive archway and onto a stone walkway that bridged a cavernous room. Sand poured like a river through gates along the walls, feeding a churning pit below like a lake. Heat radiated from below and, after watching the rolling, boiling sand Dhark realized there was molten earth beneath, devouring the sand eagerly, though he couldn't deduce the purpose behind it.

"That," the man pointed below, "is just what it looks to be. A place to deposit the encroaching desert to keep the beacon at the top of my spire clear."

"I see." Dhark eyed the fellow as his curiosity was answered unprovoked. Falling back on the very same means he used to shield his own mind from Dra'keth, be guarded further observations. "I assume Xodius served here once? He told me that he hailed from a void."

"Served here, yes. Though, when he broke free from the multiplicity that binds the others of his ilk to me, I banished him to the void. That is their home, you see. The demons that serve me are not native to this world. There is nothing left that is native to this world, after all. It is difficult to get decent help when everything is dead."

"Nothing left?"

"Almost nothing, I should say." The man turned to affix an odd look on Dhark. "You are here, so there is something."

Dhark furrowed his brow and came to a stop on the middle of the walkway. "You mean to tell me that this world is mine?"

"Ah, close. You were not born of this world, were you? No. You were wrought of magic and the fanatical aspirations of a power-hungry beast. Though, you are as close to a native as any might be. Rest assured, nothing exists that would bother challenging the claim." The man, Appolyon, motioned him further. "Come, there's something you need to see."

"What, pray tell, might that be?"

Another disarming smile as ice blue eyes twinkled in the light from the torches. Dhark saw something in the eyes, deep within them, that screamed of familiarity. This was someone he was supposed to know, but his mind failed to match a name with the face, much less with the subtle scent, and frustration was brewing inside him.

"What I want you to see," the man started to caution him, "will either strengthen your resolve, or it will break you completely. After all, I know you druids were dutifully bound to the world around you."

Dhark caught himself before growling from frustration. "We are, yes."

"Were," the man corrected with a waving finger. "You were. There is nothing left to be connected to anymore. There's nothing left for anyone, for that matter. I saw to that myself."

They carried on, Dhark tensing his grip on the staff. "What are you going to show me?"

"The end of your world. I owe the last druid alive that much, do I not? Let him bear witness to the fall of the power he once used to such a great extent."

Now, curiosity was setting in. "You are going to let me watch this rock dissolve into nothingness?"

"Hah, fates no. I will take you back to the beginning, as you know it, and watch what the humans you tried to fight for. Watch them take the world you once knew and warp it, distort it to their will. You will watch as everything crumbles to ash, and then as I sit back and let them, at times helping yes. I intervened once or twice, but that was very early on. They did well enough themselves before too long, so I let them drag the destruction out until the amusement left and was replaced by boredom."

"This sounds like something I may end up regretting." Dhark looked at his staff, picking more sand from a few spots. "It also seems to me that you are simply trying to irritate me."

"Perhaps I am. Is it working?"

"No." Dhark released the staff, letting it vanish in a haze of dust. "I cannot speak for any others, but I know the teachings I followed preached patience. I would like to think that I am a very, very patient beast."

The innocent smile faded and gave way to a more malicious smirk. "We shall see."

They reached the end of the walkway and stepped into another hall much like the first, though resting in the center of this hall was a glass orb roughly a meter in diameter, a chaotic swirl of what appeared to be a swirl of blood-red gasses. Dhark instantly felt the magic radiating from it as the man led him closer, reaching out to touch the orb's surface.

"When you are ready, Druid Dhark, touch the surface and bear witness the future of those you were fighting for."

Dhark took time to circle the orb, feeling the ebb of magic from its surface with a hovering hand as he watched the swirling gasses housed inside. There was a surge of thoughts going through his mind, warnings telling him not to, hinting that perhaps if he knew he could alter the course of history, that what he was going to see was really all a lie. There were too many possibilities to listen to them all. Slowly, his hand settled on the cool surface of the glass. Magic crackled to life, almost painfully, as it coursed through him. The hall vanished in a haze of red before fading to black before history unveiled itself before his eyes.

The man had said it would take him back to the beginning of the end. The first thing he witnessed was the death of Wraith.