Section Thirteen: The Temple of Lazarus

            Jordan lifted his head and yawned widely, watching as the ten people slowly clambered down from where they had perched, stretching, many grumbling about being stiff and sore. The wind at this altitude was quite chill, though mostly blocked by Jordan's bulk. Above them towered the huge carved entrance to the Temple of Lazarus.

            "Looks much like the same kind of lock on the last temple." Falco reported, rejoining the group, which stood around a floating fire Slippy had conjured up. "Do you still have your pendant, Fara?"

            She nodded, walking over to the door, taking her pendant off and fitting it up to the lock. It latched into place, and the doors slowly opened, a blast of stale air rushing out.

            Fox stepped up even with her, katana drawn, and led the way in. Once he was five or so feet inside the door, torches lit up along the walls of the temple, chasing away shadows.

            "This place is drenched in magic." Rita remarked, taking a slow look around. "But it does not seem good or evil."

            "Lazarus praised neutrality." Slippy replied.

            Jordan began to lean in, then let out a world-rocking roar when the doors slammed closed, shoving him out. The party spun around, watching as the lock spun closed.

            "Wonderful." Falco finally said, speaking for the entire party. "Just wonderful." He walked over to the door, running his hands over the lock. "And it would seem that only the staff can open it." He looked at Fox.

            "I'll get the staff." Fox said very softly, and with that, he turned back to face the altar.

            The temple was hewn almost entirely of rock, but there was a goodly amount of precious metal around as well, in particular gold. The main altar didn't seem in praise to any particular god, massively decorated but not showing any recognizable symbols. The altar was above the main floor by six steps, but directly in front of the altar, on the same level they were on, was a carved circle surrounded by symbols.

            Katt, Slippy, and Rita went forward, fanning out around the circle and reading.

            "Well. This is it." Katt said, looking at Fox.

            Fox had shed his weaponry, and when Katt looked at him he stepped forward, hands clasped behind his back. "I am ready."

            Slippy gestured for everyone to back away as Rita assembled the gate, sliding the key through the hole in the center of the gate disk. The device leapt away from her hands and landed in the center of the circle of the carved circle, then began to spin. The symbols lit up one by one, blazing with supernatural fire, and a cone of light began to emanate from the spinning disk. Once all the symbols had lit up, Fox stepped into the circle, and cast one last long look over his shoulder at Fara before stepping into the cone of light.

            With a thunderclap, the gate shut, the disk and key disappearing with Fox.

            "Well, that's it then. We've done all we can do." Said Peppy, slowly sitting in one of the pews, pressing his fingertips together. "Now, it's all up to him."

            "It doesn't seem like we've done enough, though." Said Bill, and everyone agreed. "Katt, what waits for him on the other side?"

            "We cannot say for certain…" She said slowly.

            "I can." Alan's voice came from another part of the temple. "Everyone, come look at this!"

            They stood and walked over to where he stood, having taken one of the torches out of the sconces to further light up the wall. Murals covered the walls, painted in a series which he moved the torch along to show the group. The pictures, though old, were astonishingly clear.

            The first had been painted to show a burst of light, then a figure landing on a floor. The second showed the figure walking forward toward a pedestal, on which sat the Staff of Lazarus. The third showed the figure dropping to its knees, arms snapping open. And after that, every picture depicted part of the test, and there were easily a dozen more.

            "Oh, gods above." Julian whispered, making religious gestures as the others did.

            "Heironeous, please, watch your follower. He now approaches a great test, and we fear for him." Peppy said, pressing his hands together in a prayer. The group fell into a circle, joining in, lifting pleas to their different gods, hoping that at least one would hear and protect their leader.

            Fox grunted as he was slammed into stone floor, rolling to his feet and brushing off absently. The gate disk and key rattled to the floor next to him, and he picked them up, tucking both into a belt pouch and moving forward slowly.

            He seemed to be in another temple of sorts, though instead of an altar, a pedestal sat there, illuminated by a beam of pale light—the only obvious light in this place. He slowly moved forward, eying the circle carved in front of the pedestal.

            "I do not know this language…" He muttered to himself, tilting his head, eying the runes uneasily. This entire place was a clash of feelings, both balanced and harsh. He lifted his gaze to the staff, and felt the immense power of the thing, knew that it rivaled with the gods in its abilities. After kneeling and sending one last prayer to his god, he stepped into the circle.

            BOW, MORTAL!

            He fell to his knees, head snapping back and arms snapping open, feeling his tunic shred and fall away, exposing his arms and chest. His pendant of Heironeous glowed brilliant white as pain blasted up his spine, wrapping him for a horrible second.

            "Who are you?" He managed to cry out.

            I AM YOUR DESTINY. I AM YOUR DEATH. I AM ALL YOU MAY EVER NEED.

            Fox's arms rolled palm up, and he cried out again as slash marks, as if made by the sharpest of knives, opened across the width of his wrist, then continued in a line up his arms. He heard his blood hit the ground, but the sound seemed distant and not worthy of contemplation.

            YOU ARE VERY STRONG, MORTAL.

            Fox keened as black spirits ripped through him, mocking him, but not killing him as they easily could while he was unarmed. His pendant glowed brighter, a small supernova, but offered no help as pain again wrapped him, his muscles shaking in agony.

            LET US SEE JUST HOW STRONG YOU REALLY ARE.

            Jordan, who had curled up outside the temple door, lifted his head and growled in his chest when the silver landed not far away from him. "What do you want?"

            "I want to know why you are here, obviously. You are a Wrack dragon are you not?"

            "Yes, I am a Wrack dragon, but I am redeemed. The evil is wiped from my spirit and almost completely from my memory." His angry expression fell, becoming worried unto the point of illness, as he looked at the temple doors. "My friends are inside there." He whispered, setting one of his misshapen hands against the carved rock. "Good people they are, heroes they are. Leave me to wait for them."

            The silver blinked, then leapt to a nearby ledge and settled down, tucking its wings and limbs in close and wordlessly watching, joining Jordan in his vigil. It stayed until early evening, then took off. Jordan didn't even notice.

            "How long has it been?" Falco asked, looking up from sharpening one of his knives.

            "It's nightfall by now." Peppy replied. "We have been here all day, and nothing."

            "An entire day, living through those horrible tests…" Fara whispered, looking toward the paintings.

            "He's strong. He'll be fine." Said Julian. "Because if Fox can't live through it, no one can."

            "You're probably right." Slippy said, looking up from one of his books.

            A high pitched noise cut the air, and the entire group leapt up from where they were as the cone of light reappeared in the carved circle, the gate disk and key reappearing. They gathered just in time to see Fox's form tossed out, landing roughly on the stone floor, shirtless, his fur and breeches soaked in blood, harsh coughs emerging as he tried to breathe.

            "Give him some room!" Katt commanded, shoving the whole group back and kneeling beside Fox.

Fara knelt by him, taking one of his hands. "Fox? Fox can you hear me?
            He looked up, his eyes the clear blue of a newborn's. "Fara?" He finally asked, voice shaking.

She wrapped her arms around him, holding him to her chest. "Thank gods." She whispered. "Oh, Pelor, you're still bleeding…"

Those with healing magic went to work, adding their power to Fox's, and it wasn't long before the group helped him to his feet.

"I have retrieved the staff. I can summon it to my hand." He told them, accepting a spare tunic from Bill and pulling it on, much more comfortable once that was done. "But it must be used when the time is right… and that isn't right now…" He frowned, staring off into the distance. "We must leave this temple."

"Now we're talking." Falco grinned. "Lead the way."

Fox walked slowly toward the huge doors, each step more certain, with more strength. He held out a hand, and the carved staff appeared. He twirled it absently, then brought it around in front of him and held it up. Beams of magic came from it, lining up to appropriate spots on the door. The doors opened, and cold wind thundered in, Jordan practically falling backwards into the temple.

"My friends!" Jordan cried, grinning.

"We're fine, Jordan." Fox assured him, twisting an ear. A feeling of unease was in the air, though no one else seemed to notice it. "Have you noticed anything?"

"No, but then I have been keeping to my thoughts."  Jordan eyed the carved staff in Fox's hand. "So that is the thing, eh?"

"Yes, it is." Fox sighed, and the staff disappeared. The staff did have a will of its own, but his was stronger, and thus far he had won. Tuning out the voices of his friends for a moment, he turned his head, catching movement out of the corner of his eye, and suddenly shouted. "DENGAR!"

The crossbow bolt lanced through the air and sank into Peppy's shoulder, making him reel and step back, ripping the bolt out as the three Fists of Hextor emerged from hiding, Pigma smirking, still carrying the crossbow.

The rest of the party closed in behind Fox, passing him his weapons back.

"A bit outnumbered, ain't ya?" Alan asked, uncorking a fresh bottle of wine.

"I'm not here to fight you. I came to fight him." Wolf replied, looking at Fox.

Fox stepped forward. "You told me that we would fight again. I see you might be right."

"Why don't I just eat them?" Jordan asked, looking at the three.

"They'd make you terminally ill." Alan told the wrack dragon, offering Jordan some wine. Jordan accepted, lowering his jaw so Alan could pour half the bottle into his mouth.

"Very funny." Wolf said caustically. "I have been very fair thus far I think, damn near merciful in fact. Pigma could have shot any of you and had the wound be mortal and poisonous. But I told him to wound Hare, and that was it." He shook his head. "It's time for this to end, McCloud."

"I know." Fox said quietly. "So let us get it over with." He looked at his friends, who obviously didn't want him to fight. "I know, I have lost much blood, but that doesn't matter. Do not interfere with this fight. Understand?" When they nodded, he turned back to Wolf, pulling both of his swords out.

Wolf suddenly leapt away, leading Fox away from his party on a crazy path up and around the mountain. More then once Fox felt stone crumble away as he leapt up, finally landing on a roughly circular ledge about twelve feet across. Wolf was waiting for him.

"Just to make sure your friends don't interfere." Wolf grinned coldly.

"And what of your friends?" Fox replied, voice equally cold.

"They have their orders, which are not to touch your friends. And they know if they disobey orders I will kill them myself."

"Have you no compassion, no mercy in your heart at all?" Fox asked, knowing he sounded like Alan, shaking his head.

"I lost that long ago." And with that, Wolf attacked.

Fox blocked, and the clash of their sword blades rang off the stone around them. They brought their other swords up almost simultaneously, fighting two blades on two, the harsh noises filling the air. Each swing was blocked, only for the return to be blocked.

The pair split up after over ten minutes of straight combat, breathes fogging out in the chill of the mountains, circling each other, watching for that one, crucial moment when their opponent was open. As they circled, both sheathed one sword, each keeping their broadsword out. Fox's broadsword was a Knight's sword, carved with a symbol of Heironeous to encourage and remind of a Knight's valor. Wolf's was the same and the opposite, a sword accented with serrated edges and black glyphs, the symbol of Hextor bold on the blade.

They attacked at the same time, pendants swinging out from their chests as they spun to deflect away attacks, the thick blades ringing out as they clashed, sparks grinding as they braced against each other, glaring into each other's eyes.

"What drove you to hate me so much?" Fox asked.

"You are everything I could never be. Which, I've discovered, is just fine. I just have to kill you to get you out of the way."

They shoved away from each other, circled again for a moment, then their swords met again.

Peppy pressed a hand against his wound, trying to prevent bleeding as Rita performed another healing spell, finishing sealing the wound. His eyes never left the two remaining Fists of Hextor, which stood quietly off to one side, sharp, cold eyes watching Fox's party.

No one was sure were Fox and Wolf were, but the sounds of the fight echoed to where the others stood, the harsh metallic noises echoing off the mountain walls and amplifying. It did nothing to sooth anyone's nerves. Fox's party knew he had just come from an entire day of pain and blood loss, and now he was in combat with what could be considered his archenemy.

Fara sat against Jordan, shielded most of the way from the wind, listening to the sounds of the distant battle and watching the two Fists of Hextor as they watched back.

"So. Is the revenge being sought personal, or merely religious?" Alan's voice broke the silence.

"A bit of both, I think, though I cannot say I know anything of how O'Donnel thinks." Powalski replied. "Why do you care, bard of the Blood Bayou?"

"Why shouldn't I care?" Was the easy reply.

"If only it was that simple." Peppy sighed, then looked up as everyone else did as two beams struck down from the heavens, one dark and one made of blinding light. "It would seem that the gods themselves have stepped in."

"And thus, the eternal feud continues. Half brothers that are at war." Julian shook his head. "That are using our friends to wage it."

"Doesn't seem fair, if you ask me." Falco said bluntly. "Fox has done nothing but serve his god, and as payment, his god uses him as a tool against Hextor?"

"That's an honor, not a punishment." Katt sent him a look.

Fara stood. "I agree with Falco." She said. "We did not make it this far for Fox to die fighting an old enemy as a battle in an ancient war."

"There's nothing we can do." Slippy said. "But wait."

"We have waited more then enough." Bill shook his head. "Not that there is much we can do about it, of course."

Fara paced, hugging herself. There had already been too many times on this journey she had almost lost Fox, and here she was facing it yet again. But then, the course of true love never does run smooth…

            Wolf dropped to his hands and his knees with a harsh yelp, lifting one hand to cover the deep slash in his rib cage, then looking up at Fox. The halos around both dimmed slowly, then faded completely, leaving only a few mage lights for them to see by.

            "Finish it, McCloud." Wolf spat blood out. "You know if I live, I will only hunt you down again. I will do so until I can do no longer, and you know that is true."

            "Perhaps." Fox sheathed both his swords, looking down at his enemy. "But I am merciful, O'Donnel."

            "Leaving me alive is not mercy, McCloud." Wolf's eyes grew hard and hateful. "And it never was. Kill me."

            "No, I don't think so." Fox turned his back and walked away, balancing on the edge of the cliff, spreading his arms. As they had fought, the imbalance had slowly come to a peak. It wasn't long before it manifested in this plane and tore the world asunder. The time had come to correct it.

            Wolf collapsed to the cold stone, a noise much like a sob coming from his throat. "Do you know why I hate you McCloud?"

            "No. Why?" Fox held out a hand, and the staff appeared, its will clashing against his and submitting for the time being.

            "Because, no matter what I do to try and make you hate, to make you like me, you show mercy and hold yourself above it." Another sob rattled from him. "I have no choice but to hate you."

            "Then perhaps it's time for that to change."

            Wolf lifted his head from the cold stone, surprised, and cried out in shock when Fox leapt off the cliff.

            Fox was braced for the impact, landing on a sharp slope below, sliding down and off into space again. He twisted and reached out his free hand, grabbing a ledge and swinging as it crumbled under his fingertips, twisting and landing on another ledge that was only inches wide. Another leap, arms out for balance as he flew through the air, then twisting again to brace and roll, sliding down another sharp incline…

            And landing on the ledge in front of the gates to the temple, shocking everyone there.

            "Nice of you to drop in." Alan said, and got elbowed for his trouble.

            Fox just smiled, then looked to the two remaining Fists of Hextor. "I suggest you leave."

            "What of O'Donnel? Dead I suppose?" Pigma demanded.

            "That is not your concern. Leave."

            The pair did, casting many looks over their shoulders.

            "Of course, they're not really gone." Bill shook his head.

            "It's enough." Fox spun the staff absently. "All of you, take cover behind Jordan."

            "Fox." Fara said weakly.

            He held out his hand to her, and she stepped forward and took it. He held her against his chest with one arm, and with the other arm, lifted the staff. Only then did the staff's will break through his own for a few crucial seconds, and he allowed it.

            The ancient, holy words cracked through the sky, opening the heavens, ripping into the earth. The rest of the party held onto Jordan to stay on their feet as the world rocked.

            Then silence fell, shattered only by the sound of a wooden staff being broken over a boulder. They slowly emerged to find the Staff of Lazarus broken, and Fox holding Fara again, trembling.

            "Our job is done." Fox told them very quietly. "The world is at balance."

Not even legends were able to correctly record what happened that night.

It was later said that in a torrential wave, a force had spread across the world, striking down good or evil without favoring either. Great armies were disabled, evil dictators fell as their hearts stopped, and the world slowly came to balance, and as if responding, the great god Obad-Hai took part. Life exploded across bare rejoins. A thunderstorm unlike any other wrapped the Great Wastes and turned it to savannah. The lands that man and beast alike had damaged healed and became beautiful again.

            And somewhere, on a cold, barren mountain, a battlescarred younger man woke up to find himself looking at a rather large caravan, the foremost of which was a kind looking young warrior. He couldn't remember anything, but knew that somehow this was his second chance, and that he would not get another.