Last Time: Albus Dumbledore has arrived at Hogwarts, and after a brief moment of misunderstanding, has begun helping Harry take down Mephistopheles. Though they managed to stop Mephistopheles from consuming Fawkes the Phoenix, they have not been able to stop the monstrosity. Now, despite Adrian Potter's sacrifice to keep Harry alive, Mephistopheles is bent of complete annihilation of Hogwarts and the surrounding lands, attempting to blow up the intersection of magical Ley Lines Hogwarts was built upon.
Book One: Death
Chapter 25
Harry didn't know what to do. Despite all of his best efforts, they had lost. Mephistopheles only needed a little bit more time and then he would destroy the intersection and with it Hogwarts and those inside.
"So that's it huh Harry? Giving up?"
Harry glanced to his right. Crouching there looked to be the spectral form of Adrian Potter. "We can't stop him this time." He said in a soft whisper.
Adrian shook his head. "Not good enough Harry. You're a Potter. Where others quit and fail, you look for new ways to press on. Where fear will freeze others, you tame your fear regardless of the cost."
"But how can I reach him?" Harry wasn't certain if the image of Adrian was something caused by a hallucination or if it was his powers of Death, or something else.
Adrian chuckled softly, a warm sound coming from the young squire's projection. "You already have the answers Harry. You can win against Mephistopheles; you and you alone, can kill him. Not Salazar, not Godric, and not Dumbledore. They can help you, but it comes down to you to make the killing blow."
"I'm not strong enough Adrian. Maybe if I had another year or two to get stronger…" Harry trailed off.
"That's not good enough Harry." Adrian reached out and touched Harry's forehead. "Get stronger Harry. You know what you're missing, and without it you won't win here today. You know how to get what you're missing also. You have all the tools and knowledge you need to win today, you need to stop being afraid." Adrian smiled. "Now stand up, and show everyone the power of a Potter being the Pale Rider."
Adrian disappeared and the sounds of the battlefield came to Harry's ears once more. He could once again hear Dumbledore chanting shield spell after shield spell, with Salazar striding over to help.
Harry got to his feet and looked up briefly to Mephistopheles. "Okay Adrian." Harry said and took a deep breath. He tried to push back the fear; he didn't have a lot of time. But it was so hard. Despair gripped him at the idea of failure.
Wait… Despair.
Harry's shoulders squared and his eyes held the same defiant glare once more in the emerald flames that the cowl showed. That was it. He could win. He still didn't know if it was a subconscious reminder, his powers of Death, or a hallucination that showed him Adrian once more. And in the end, it didn't matter.
It put some fire back into him once more.
Harry turned and ran for the nearest tower, ignoring Dumbledore's words. A pillar of ice shot up from under his feet, propelling him into the air. He lashed out with the Harvester, connecting himself to the tower and reeling himself up. He flung himself into the air after the Harvester was once again fully back on the gauntlet, and he repeated the process.
Hook the Harvester, reel it in, fling himself up once it was reeled in. He did it three times in total before he stood on the roof of a tower.
He backed up to the far side of the tower, extending the Harvester out into scythe form. He spun it a few times, getting a good feel for it. He had to disconnect the magic building from Mephistopheles' energy lance. A spear or javelin would make the distance, but be unable to sever anything.
And anything that would sever the connection wouldn't make the distance traditionally.
Harry took a deep breath. He only had one shot at this, and he would make it count. He allowed the powers of Death flow through him, spilling over the artifacts. He pulsed the power out, calling out to the last 'artifact' of Death he was missing. With all the others combined, he would summon the last.
Harry sprinted across the rooftops. He allowed the despair to fill him but he did not let it consume him. It was okay to feel it. It wasn't acceptable to have it consume him. When he reached the other end of the rooftop, he leapt off into a spin. The Harvester, in scythe form, spun with him and he allowed it to fly.
The Harvester spun the distance to Mephistopheles and slashed through the wrist holding the energy lance and a wing before embedding into the creature's back. The unstable lance detonated with the force of its build of energy, blasting Mephistopheles back to the ground quite harshly.
Harry went into freefall, his spin making it impossible for him to see the detonation of the lance. But he most certainly heard it. He had one shot, one shot only. His despair filled him and he embraced it. He couldn't allow it to control him as he plummeted.
"DESPAIR!" he bellowed out, letting it all out in that desperate shout.
In the depths of the Forbidden Forest, lying down on a bed of pine needles and loose dirt, an old Thestral lay there, its wings tucked against its back. Its head down. It had accepted that its Master would never call for it again.
More than three centuries had passed since it last heard the call, since it was last rode into battle. The last Master to call it had let it free, unable to find its next Master. So it had followed its instincts, going to where a herd of its kind was.
Of course, even amongst its kind, it did not fit. It was powerful, anything could tell that. And despite the lack of contact of the other Thestrals, it stayed and acted as a protector. It was not always successful as their enemies had grown to be more numerous. The spiders in the last fifty or so years had been particularly troublesome.
Herding instinct demanded no less of it to be a protector. And while it had lost a few of the little ones, it had done its hardest. But now it was time for it to pass on. This body, kept alive by its Master's magic was through. It was time to ride with the wind once more, to go wherever it was taken.
The Thestral's only eye, white and milky with blindness, closed slowly.
A pulse of its Master's power caused that eye to snap open. It struggled to rise to its feet that pulse of power igniting a spark of fire within the old Thestral.
It needed to live, it needed to rise. It could not delay for its Master. But it was so weak, so tired. It struggled to step forward, it struggled to build up to a gallop and move through the forest.
"DESPAIR!"
That desperate cry of need surged through the Thestral. It could not delay, the Master was in danger! Magic surged through it, erupting into pale green flames all around it before it vanished with not a whisper of sound.
Only to reappear, galloping across the skies to the plunging Pale Rider as Despair, the Pale Steed of the Apocalypse.
What had once been grey skin hanging on a gaunt and skeletal body, even for a Thestral, was a pale alabaster white taut over a powerful form. Where it had once been marred with countless scars from protecting the other Thestrals, the skin was whole and hale once more. Pale green acidic green fire surrounded the ankles, spreading out over the air like some sort of platform as the steed thundered towards the Rider. Its mane and tail was formed of the same green fire, whipping with the wind.
Harry flared out the invisibility cloak, allowing it to momentarily suspend his fall. It was just enough for Despair to gallop underneath him and Harry to land astride the steed. He bounced up and down as Despair galloped full tilt into a turn. He clung with his legs and arms, the flames not harming him in the slightest.
And like with Dust before it, if Harry closed his eyes he could see from Despair's eyes, or in this case, its sole eye. The other was forever lost, and not even the rebirth as Despair could heal the other crimson orb.
Harry felt a surge of power well up inside of him. His reserves which had been going on fumes for a while now surged inside of him. He could feel his magic changing as he became completed once more. For the first time in a thousand years, Death was once more in full regalia and astride Despair.
Despair fell into a dive its legs no longer pumping at the air as its powerful wings stretched out to either side of Harry. Harry gripped tighter to his mount, not expecting the dive. But soon Despair straightened out and was running full tilt again, this time on the ground.
And heading straight for Mephistopheles.
Harry had never ridden a horse or Thestral running at full tilt before. He bounced up and down upon Despair's back as the powerful muscles propelled both mount and rider forward. Harry reveled in the wind rippling over their form. It was a sensation like no other, and Harry knew it stemmed from Despair's magic changing his own.
Despair was the Wind given form and purpose. But it was also a familiar of Death, meaning its magic fueled Harry, it strengthened and empowered him. It worked both ways, but on a much lesser account towards Despair's side of things.
It was a miniscule drain for Harry.
It also made Harry feel like they could win once more.
The young Potter heir lowered his head as they surged forward. He held out his left hand and the Harvester's shaft extended out towards his hand at his command. His hands clasped around it and he yanked it free from Mephistopheles, even as the monstrosity came up with his sword swinging. Mephistopheles looked to cleave both Rider and Mount in two.
Just as the blade would connect however, they both vanished in a burst of green fire, only to reappear moments later yards behind Mephistopheles. Despair reared up onto its hind legs, turning even as its wings extended out to their full impressive height.
And Harry holding the scythe pointed towards the ground, glaring at Mephistopheles undoubtedly made for an intimidating appearance.
Harry formed the Harvester into a spear and passed it over to his right hand. "Let's go Despair." He said and lightly pressed his heels into his steed's side. The Thestral responded well, legs thundering across the battlefield towards Mephistopheles once more.
Mephistopheles looked to cut Despair's legs out from under them, but Harry raised a large chunk of ice into the swing of the sword. It bit into the ice deeply, but was incapable of completely moving though. Harry surged his powers to it, hardening and solidifying the ice.
Despair leapt over the block of ice, clearing it effortlessly. Its hind legs had barely touched the ground before it reared forward onto its front legs, nearly bucking Harry in the process. Both legs lashed out, striking Mephistopheles in his head quite harshly. Harry plunged the Harvester into his throat and quickly yanked free before Despair galloped off out of the direct line of attack.
Despair slowed to a trot, turning back towards Mephistopheles some distance away. Harry allowed the spear to turn back into a scythe once more. He shifted his seat upon Despair and he held the scythe down to the side. They would only have one chance at sending Mephistopheles back.
And it was finally time for Harry to open the portal.
He channeled his Death Magic into the Harvester; he focused it upon the blade, the edge of which took on a black tint. Hindsight told Harry that he probably should have done this on his return trip from retrieving the Harvester from Mephistopheles' body, but it couldn't be helped.
Despair charged across the fields once more. Harry clung tightly to the galloping mount. His heart thundered in his chest. He could end this, here and now. His blood pounded in his ears, the sound of battle drowning itself out.
The Harvester showed him what to do, constantly. It gave him a migraine, his temples throbbed, but there was nothing that could be done about that.
Harry focused on then and there, on Mephistopheles. He deflected the sword with a lance of ice. As Despair moved past, circling around the creature, Harry blasted him with a wave of frost that quickly spread over his limbs. It wouldn't stop him long, but it might slow him down a few precious moments.
Harry tore through the air with the scythe, ripping open a jagged tear in the very air. A black portal opened behind Mephistopheles as Harry and Despair raced past him. A powerful vacuum took hold sucking at everything in front of it, trying to drag them all in past the Veil of Death.
Only Despair remained unfazed by the gale force winds drawing them all in. The Pale Steed was completely at one with the wind.
Harry watched, putting the Harvester away, as the remaining ranks of his undead attempting to hold onto something, some burying their weapons into the grounds in an attempt to find a handhold. Salazar had lashed his whip around Godric, just under his arms. The whip was wound around Salazar's wrist as he clutched to a tree on the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest. A goblin's blade came free and it was sucked up into the portal, shouting the entire way.
Even Dumbledore had no footing to speak of.
"Wulfric!" Harry yelled out over the whipping winds as Dumbledore drew closer. Harry reached out and caught the old man by the forearm before pulling up, dragging his Headmaster up onto Despair with him.
"Thank you." Dumbledore spoke over the whipping winds as he held on, glancing over his shoulder.
Harry glanced with him as Despair trotted around to offer its side to the portal. There, with his sword buried into the ground and clutching onto it with both hands was Mephistopheles, refusing to be sucked into the portal.
"We need to push him through. That portal won't be open long Wulfric." Harry said loudly. They couldn't get closer without risking Despair again. At this point, Mephistopheles might try to consume the steed, even if it cost him going back beyond the Veil.
It would likely take Harry and Dumbledore with, meaning it would be over for all of them anyways.
"Any ideas?" Dumbledore asked his eyes remaining focused upon Mephistopheles.
"I was hoping you might have one." Harry answered honestly as he sent out a lance of ice at Mephistopheles. He aimed it down, yet the gale like winds still pulled the tip of it up, causing it to whip past Mephistopheles.
Dumbledore drew his wand and aimed it down at Mephistopheles, extending his arm fully. Harry could feel the elder wizard's power begin to build and surge up. "I have one." He said his blue eyes hardening as he focused.
There were no words to the spell that Dumbledore cast. Whether that was because it was a spell without an incantation, or Dumbledore did not wish for Harry to find out the incantation, Harry would never know. All Harry did know, was that Dumbledore's wand suddenly erupted with fierce flames. Serpents, dragons, chimera, phoenixes, all seemed to be within those flames as they surged forward at Mephistopheles before those flames condensed into a massive phoenix that turned what it passed to ash.
Harry held his arm up to cover his eyes slightly. His heart was racing as he once again beheld Dumbledore's power. Harry recognized the spell despite Dumbledore's silence. The Tomes found within the Room of Requirements had been most beneficial in the regard of actually recognizing spells. Harry found himself carefully watching as Dumbledore used Fiendfyre.
It spoke volumes of the control the elder wizard had that he risked the Cursed Fire near the school.
It scorched across the ground, incinerating and melting all in its way. Worse, it was done rapidly as the open portal sucked at the flames, forcing them towards Mephistopheles. Dumbledore held the spell for maybe ten seconds before he allowed it to stop spewing from his wand.
Mephistopheles still clung to his sword, molten slag all that remained of most of it. But enough of the blade remained for the creature to hold on, despite the way it dug into his hand. Harry noted that Mephistopheles' horns were burnt off, mere stubs of what they once were. The wings the creature had used were also burned to small nubs, but Mephistopheles was still alive, clawed hand gripping the ground in an attempt to drag himself forward.
Harry looked on with his teeth gritting. They needed to force Mephistopheles through. A monumentally stupid idea came to him, but Harry couldn't conceivably come up with better in the few short moments that they had.
The Harvester only opened brief portals. It was a failsafe really; it kept something else from coming through to destroy them. But then the Harvester would need, for lack of a better term, to cool down for an hour.
They wouldn't last another hour.
Harry slipped off of Despair, the winds sucking at him before his feet could hit the ground. With no purchase, he quickly crossed the scorched ground towards Mephistopheles. He extended both arms out and in both hands quickly formed ice swords that extended deep into the ground, slowing his movement.
He was now about ten feet from Mephistopheles and exactly aligned with the creature. It snarled at him, words dying in the stronger winds at the entrance of the portal.
Harry looked beyond, through the Veil. He could see movement beyond. The portal was attracting attention.
Steeling his resolve, Harry let go of the ice swords, floating over Mephistopheles. He grabbed one of the boney spikes that had once been the creature's wings. There wasn't much room, just enough for his hand to wrap around.
The harsh whipping winds tugged at the Invisibility cloak, but Harry still pulled himself up. He stared into Mephistopheles' face, as much room between them as Harry could possibly get. "Get out of my realm!" he barked out.
The Harvester extended out from the Dominion Gauntlet, the eight inch blade all Harry really needed. He quickly slashed Mephistopheles' sword, Harry's blade sliding effortlessly through the metal as he let go of Mephistopheles and rolled off the creature.
The Harvester dug into the ground as it formed into a spear that Harry clutched at with one hand. He had it fully extended to its full length with about a foot out of the ground for Harry to grab ahold of. The sucking winds of the Portal wouldn't yield to any of them.
Memories flashed in Harry's eyes, even as he dragged himself up to hold on better with both hands. The Harvester sticking in the ground as a Pale Rider was sucking back through. A plain spear thrust into sands, something similar sucking at him.
The memories refused to release him. Worse, Harry had no idea where they were coming from. The Harvester was not doing this.
"I will not be bested!" Pain lanced up Harry's leg and he looked down to see a flaming whip coiled around his leg several times. It burned through the trousers he wore, and it seared into his leg viciously.
Harry cried out in pain. He grabbed tighter with the Dominion Gauntlet and released with his right hand. He formed an ice sword, trying to muster as much magic as he could. He swung the blade at the fire whip, only for the blade to melt.
It was not enchanted and could not harm the fire.
Harry could see Mephistopheles slowly dragging himself up the length of the whip of fire. Another few feet and the creature would be clear of the portal. Harry could see the edges of the portal into that bleak abyss wavering. It was about to close.
His heart pounded in his chest as he took a look to the Harvester, it stuck into the ground like a faithful anchor.
Harry breathed heavily as he began to slacken his hand. He would die but Mephistopheles would be stopped. The release of power from his death would beyond the Veil of Death, the Lock upon it remaining firmly in place.
Despair, Dust, and the Harvester would all still be in this realm. A new Pale Rider would be born, they would have to find new artifacts or make them.
Harry let go, it was the logical choice.
A booming crack sounded and someone grabbed Harry's arm. He glanced up to see Dumbledore's left hand around his, holding onto the Gauntlet, a whip of fire and his foot anchoring the man to the Harvester.
Dumbledore had seen the look in those emerald flames, shrouded by shadows. It was one he had seen before in Aberforth's blue eyes long, long ago. It was that of a child shouldering a burden that an adult should have. It was that of a sacrifice that should never be asked for, but simply was going to be.
Dumbledore couldn't allow that to happen. He had made many mistakes, some he would never be able to rectify. But he would never allow another child to have those eyes if he could help it. He didn't know the age of Death, and perhaps that was the point. Death was ageless, it came for all.
Apparation in and out of Hogwarts was impossible, even for a Headmaster. The wards could be tampered with to allow it, but it threatened to weaken the ward structure. But like the young warrior early, Dumbledore didn't Apparate through the wards.
He Apparated from one point inside Hogwarts to another point inside Hogwarts.
He felt the cold biting against his leg of Death's weapons. The enchantments upon it were quite formidable and Dumbledore knew that if he touched it with flesh he was as good as dead. Perhaps Death also meant to tell him to let go, but the point was quite moot.
The Portal snapped shut with Mephistopheles landing on the grounds of Hogwarts no worse for the wear.
The flaming whip uncoiled from Death's leg and Dumbledore was quick to pull him to his feet, extinguishing his own whip of fire. Dumbledore could see Death wanted to berate him, to possibly do something that they would both regret. Instead, Death shook his head. "Thank you." Came from Death's lips.
But the battle wasn't won yet. Mephistopheles rose to his feet, flaming whip singing through the air, aimed for Death. A spell was on Dumbledore's lips, but it wasn't going to be quick enough as he brought the Elder Wand to bear.
He used his left arm, still clasped around Death's gauntleted left arm to spin Death out of the way. Pain lanced up his left arm as his right hand came up. "Bombarda Maxima!"
The over-powered blasting Hex took Mephistopheles in the upper chest, blasting him some distance away. Dumbledore fell to one knee, seeing his left arm on the ground. He grimaced as he clutched at the arm, just above where it was severed.
"Wulfric!" Came Death's panicked shout as he quickly scrambled to his feet and used his powers over ice to seal and numb the wound.
"I'll be fine." Dumbledore replied, grimacing in pain again as his arm throbbed at the chill. He noted that Death winced and clutched his head a moment. "What about you?" he asked.
The hand came away and a pained grunt sounded. "It's nothing." It was a bold faced lie and Dumbledore knew it.
But he decided not to press. "Can you open another portal?" Dumbledore asked as he struggled to his feet.
Death grabbed his weapon; it coiled around his hand and quickly came from the ground. "No, not for another hour." He replied.
Dumbledore had been worried about that, and he knew what Death did. They could not last another hour against Mephistopheles. It was taking all they had just to keep up. Dumbledore could see Salazar moving over to them.
"Do you have any plans?" he asked Death.
Harry thought on the question from his Headmaster. When he had asked if Harry was alright, Harry had lied. He knew Dumbledore knew it was a lie, but Harry still didn't say anything. In truth, it was more memories, memories that should never be his under any circumstance.
Worse, it showed magic the likes Harry had never seen before, dangerous Magic. And it was all they had left to try.
Harry extended the Harvester into a spear as he watched Mephistopheles rise up from the ground, his head barely on. Harry inhaled and slowly exhaled. "One." He shifted the spear to his right hand and stepped forward.
Harry had no idea where these memories were coming from. He was suddenly a Persian Vizier, casting ritualistic magic. He was a Babylonian Priest, chanting to the Gods and offering plunging a ceremonial dagger into the stomach of a man. He was an Egyptian Priest reading from a thick tome made of solid gold.
Magic swirled around him. He knew instinctively what each and every one of those Wizards were casting. They were casting magic that, as Death, he should never try. If Dust was there, perhaps the crow would have warned him away from it.
But he was desperate. And they could not last another hour.
Harry began to recite the words upon the Harvester, the words coming in a dozen different languages, his magic swirling upon the Harvester. And it wasn't just any Magic either. It was Soul Magic. Magic that did not strike the physical.
A dozen different spells were placed upon the Harvester. Harry could feel the magic tugging at something within him, held back just barely. He had no way of knowing that it was trying to take his soul, that his magic was just barely holding the spells back.
He stepped into the throw, letting the Harvester fly across the field of battle once more. Harry stumbled to his knees, even as the Harvester struck Mephistopheles dead on where the heart might be of a human.
The magic released violently. Tendrils began to lash out of Mephistopheles and he seemed to be drawn in towards the Harvester. A spectral embodiment had been blasted out of Mephistopheles and the physical body began to degrade quickly, turning into an inky black puddle that the Harvester fell in. Tendrils wrapped around the spear.
Harry wasn't sure what absorbed what. All he knew was that the bone colored ivory of the Harvester had turned to pure obsidian in color.
The pale blue spectral form of Mephistopheles roared before shooting at Harry. It was once more whole, armored, and armed. Harry had no time to move except to bring his arms up before it crashed over him, a shower of blue dust floating over him.
Harry slowly lowered his arms as the dust slowly settled and vanished. He rose to his feet, stumbling a moment. His magic was low, and his body ached.
"What happened?" Dumbledore asked.
Harry moved towards the Harvester slowly. If he were to hazard a guess… "I think… I destroyed M's soul."
And the body was incapable of being supported without the soul.
Harry cautiously approached the black Harvester. It coiled upon itself, looking like a serpent once more, the head of which resting and concealing the blade. He cautiously bent down to pick it up. His fingers brushed along it and soon the inky blackness absorbed inside of the Harvester, the weapon becoming the ivory color he had come to know it as.
Harry chuckled softly as he lifted it up and allowed it to form back upon the Dominion Gauntlet. His chuckles soon became full blown hysterical laughter. Adrenaline began to fade from his form. "We won Wulfric. We won."
Even Dumbledore gave a few chuckles. "Yes, I do believe we did."
Despair trotted when Harry gave a brief whistle. He climbed up onto his mount and sat there, looking down upon Dumbledore.
"What now?" Dumbledore asked, tucking his wand away. "What will you do now Death?"
Harry shook his head. "Go home, heal up, and wait for the next battle. There are more than just M beyond the Veil of Death Wulfric. And now I know how to destroy them for good. Perhaps I can make it to the end of this Millennia now that I know how to kill them."
"You do know it's Albus, right?" Dumbledore asked with a bemused expression on his face.
Harry nodded his head slowly. "I know, but names hold power Wulfric. And you are a powerful wizard. I would hate to see you fighting for the enemy."
Dumbledore looked around the grounds for a moment before back to Harry, even if the old man would never know Harry's identity as Death. "I could stop you. Death Magic is illegal in Great Britain."
Harry shook his head. "You could, but by the time you got your wand around to bare, I will have already escaped, or ordered the rest of my forces to stop you."
Dumbledore looked around at the various undead making their way towards the two. "What of them?"
Harry looked to them, Godric being supported by Salazar. "What did I miss?" The blonde warrior wizard asked.
Harry chuckled softly. He sat up straighter. "Hear me Undead!" he roared out. "For your services, I offer you a period of twenty four hours to yourselves! Return to this spot in twenty four hours, that is my first command." Harry allowed his voice to die down. He knew it would drift over the wind. "My last is that you don't cause any trouble in those twenty four hours."
Death pressed his heels into Despair's ribs and the horse trotted off. Pale green fire consumed them and they disappeared. Where to, Dumbledore did not know. He turned to face the two Founders, noting that Godric seemed to be holding onto a piece of scrap metal with rubies embedded in it.
He ran a hand over his face. "Please tell me that's not your sword."
Godric chuckled sheepishly. "I'm afraid it is Headmaster."
Dumbledore shook his head. Perhaps Godric would be willing to say where something of his was to donate to the school.
He turned and exhaled heavily before he picked up his severed arm. He needed to release the lockdown and see if Madam Pomfrey could put his arm back on. Then, he would sit in his office and have as many lemon drops as he had left in his bowl.
He desperately craved one of the sweets.
-Scene Break -
The outcome of the battle did not go unnoticed. Deep, beyond the Veil of Death, a shimmering pool was being watched as the Pale Rider threw his weapon, slamming an unknown spell into one of their own.
Another creature, its body small and lithe covered in black chitin armor stepped before a dais, leading up to a throne upon which sat a figure covered in shadows. "My Liege, send us. We, Your Hand, can be there in moments and kill the Pale Rider to break the Lock that holds Your Magnificence back."
From beside the throne, a large warrior in bulky heavy chitin armor with a gleaming halberd stepped forward. "No! Your course of action is too rash! We must find out what happened!"
A hissing sound, accompanied by the sound of rattling like what would be found on an adult rattlesnake was heard. "And your course is too cowardly! The Pale Rider is weak!"
"Enough!" A deep voice boomed and both warriors turned to face the shadow covered throne in a deep bow. "Azmodeus is correct, Beriel. Zoltan made his mistakes, he toyed with the Pale Rider and in the end he paid dearly for it. But it has not been without benefit. We now know that the Pale Rider can kill us. We will cease our activities against him, for now. Find out how the Pale Rider killed Zoltan, once we know how, we can plan. We do not have long, and failure will not be tolerated."
The smaller of the two creatures bowed lower before slinking away, vanishing into the shadows of the realm.
"You have something else, Azmodeus?" The voice questioned.
"I do not trust Beriel, My King." Azmodeus answered.
"Beriel will follow orders Azmodeus, as you learned how to. He is young, but powerful. He will learn."
"Of course My King." Azmodeus said before backing away carefully. He would follow the unspoken command to watch Beriel.
The last general of Their King had the same orders regarding Azmodeus. Only he had ended up dead with Azmodeus taking his place.
The same would not happen to Azmodeus.
-Chapter End-
A/N: So… yeah… End of this long fight. We have a bit of a glimpse to those beyond the Veil of Death also.
Next chapter should wrap this story up and answer a few questions. I make no promises though, but it shouldn't extend past another two chapters if it ends up longer.
HBW