Author's note: Though most readers will probably not notice this, this is a rather old story. I started drafting the outline back when Brood War was fresh. Amusingly enough, some plot points on my old notes ended up being used by Blizzard (even if not in the same exact way) before the chapters were actually written. As the actual chapters have been written over a very long time span, with many interruptions and hiatus periods, I have started revising previous chapters for quality, formatting and consistency reasons as I did not take additional notes once the writing started and memory can start fading as real life obligations pile up. This is one of the reasons why new chapters have been taking longer, but I feel the end result will be a more satisfying whole.
Chapter 11 – Path to the Forge
August 19, 2502, 12:00
Outskirts of New Talematros
Shakuras
"Are you certain about this?" Patmos asked.
"I am." Raziel replied. "I am a guest here, and I do not know for how long. The knowledge here may well help me in my quest, and by understanding my hosts further, perhaps I can also understand my new abilities and expand upon them."
The two had ended up talking about a great many things for hours on end, and Raziel had lost all track of time in between. His head was buzzing with new ideas and old alike, as he was finally able to sort his thoughts somewhat, enjoying a temporary respite from the constant fighting and the hunt for his quarry. The aging Protoss was different from most, not only due to his visions but also his rather open way of thinking. The two had gone over the history of Nosgoth and the Protoss in turn, and the way he attempted to offer an unbiased perspective – even when speaking of the great tragedies of his people's past – had yielded some insights to ponder later.
For his part, Patmos seemed rather pleased as he straightened up and spoke again.
"Then I suggest you continue your training by focused study of the Dark Templar. You clearly already have a measure of psionic aptitude, and some basic training, not to mention a rather formidable blade and similar abilities in general. I also foresee that if you are able to return to your point of origin, the skills you hone here will help you root out the beings toying with your destiny."
"By that, I assume you are not speaking of Kain alone." Raziel pointed out.
"While I do not deny that you have strong reasons for your hatred, I sense there is more to it. You mentioned it yourself how pleased he seemed to be at your re-emergence. How he set things up so you would need to confront your brothers in turn and claim their powers before the path to him was finally open."
"He has been needlessly convoluted and overly dramatic, yes." Raziel conceded, clenching his fist. "But I cannot fathom what game he is playing… nor do I care. The agony and indignity he inflicted upon me are unjustifiable. And for what? His petty pride?"
"Consider the following." Patmos said, raising his index finger. "Kain wanted his lieutenants to evolve over time and develop new abilities, despite the fact that he effectively already ruled your world and humans were helpless cattle at best and on the verge of extinction at worst. Also consider that as the last surviving member of the Circle of Nine, he has lived for an exceedingly long time by your world's standards, and would likely have plenty of time to plumb the deep places of your world and access to secrets and more strange relics. By your own admission, the Reaver was but one of many. He had all that, and he still felt the need to engineer all these circumstances."
"Do you know something you are not telling me?" Raziel asked pointedly. "Another of your visions?"
"Nothing of the sort." Patmos replied. "My sight does not work that way. I cannot simply fixate it on a being and see their whole path. I see glimpses of your nature even now… and perhaps promises of what may come."
"What are you trying to say then?"
"I am simply offering you an outsider's perspective. Difficult though it may be, try to set aside your hatred even if for a moment and ponder. Why would he do all of this?"
"Pride? Boredom? Who knows?" Raziel retorted. "I cannot pretend to know what goes on in his mind, but I have seen the consequences for myself, and for all of Nosgoth. The world rots and shrivels in his grip."
"You know, this is the first time you expressed concern for something other than your vengeance since you decided to share your tale with me." Patmos pointed out, sounding rather elated.
"I am aware that I can be rather single-minded in this pursuit..." Raziel conceded. "But I have not forgotten the bigger picture. I have a duty to carry on my former life's work and purge the scourge that is suffocating Nosgoth."
"You assume too much." Patmos said rather brusquely, giving him an emphatic glare.
"Meaning?"
"By your own admission, all you recall of the Sarafan are second hand tales, centuries old legends and rumors, and ruins including the tomb. You make a lot of assumptions, based on vague, ancient clues from old ruins and third hand accounts, lacking sufficient context, and from my experience, the truth of history tends to get lost as the centuries march on."
"Just how far do your so-called prophetic abilities reach?" Raziel pointed out. "You speak as if you knew something I do not."
"Not nearly as much as I would wish." Patmos said bitterly. "The thing about my… abilities… is that I have no choice over what I glimpse. What I do know is that you are, by your own admission, single-minded in your pursuit, and that can make you a danger to yourself. You embraced a legacy you recall nothing of, and in doing so, you may already be treading a path others set for you. Earlier, vengeance was at the forefront of your speech, but now you speak with a sense of mission. You speak of saving your world. Did you reach those conclusions on your own, or are you going by what someone else told you?"
"Why would you ask that?"
"Because by your own admission, there is a lot that does not make sense in all of this. Furthermore, you only have memories of one previous life, do you not? How can you be so certain, then, that the life before that one was as you imagine it? Not to mention that your order was led by a madman bound to a suit of armor, in service of an entire circle of madmen."
Raziel paused for a moment. While he had little reason to believe anything he had heard from Kain's mouth in the past, he did recall the tales about the madness of the former guardians, and how it had already set Nosgoth on the path to ruin long before Kain's refusal to sacrifice himself. The simple truth of the matter was, with his centuries of service rendered meaningless by a monumental act of betrayal and the revelation of his previous life, he was struggling to find new meaning. Raziel felt used and discarded, and despite his current benefactor's grandiose speeches, he had to admit that he found the aberrant aquatic life form rather pompous in his posturing and infuriatingly cryptic, even as he tried to get Raziel to play along to his script.
Raziel was beginning to absolutely loathe beings who talked about destiny and seemed so certain of his path. He might have dismissed Patmos outright, if not for two simple facts. While others spoke with certainty and tried to feed the idea of a grand and holy mission, all the while having veiled interests tied to Nosgoth itself, Patmos was not only an outsider with no connection to the world, but instead of speaking with the same infuriating absolute certainty, he was instead asking questions, providing a counterpoint to some of his ideas but ultimately urging him to reach his own conclusions.
While hatred and vengeance had been his great motivators up to that point, Raziel could not deny that he was beginning to feel the tiniest bit of doubt about what he was doing, or at least the specifics of how and why. He still absolutely hated Kain and wanted to put an end to him in the most brutal way possible, but he could not help but question the intentions of his enemy and even some of his so-called allies. A small part of him was thankful at that moment to no longer be physically capable of having headaches, as the clashing and churning of thoughts in his mind was beginning to become rather disorienting.
"You do have a point." Raziel conceded wearily. "You have given me much to ponder, but for now I would take some time to clear my head."
"Of course." Patmos said. "You know where to find me when you wish to discuss things further."
"Just one last question." Raziel said. "Why the deception and the disguises?"
"I wished to observe you for a while. Take measure of your character. You matched everything I had foreseen."
And with that, the aging Protoss turned and left, leaving Raziel to his own thoughts.
After spending a millennium in the bowels of the Lake of the Dead, and even if he was unable to remember it, Raziel was finding it difficult to stay idle for too long. He no longer needed to eat or sleep, and the Reaver's presence was enough to sustain his physical form indefinitely, therefore the offer of hospitality from the Protoss, who had given him quarters in a Dark Templar barracks not far from from the council chambers, while reassuring, was not entirely necessary. He would consume the souls of any Zerg he encountered later, but unless he sustained damage that would not be strictly necessary. He did wonder, however, what would happen if his physical form was destroyed so far away from Nosgoth and the conduits that had been made available to him by his strange sponsor. The thought of the tentacled creature made Raziel realize how refreshing he found not to have to hear its incessant ramblings.
Driven by a desire to do something useful with his time until the people he wished to speak to were available, he located the nearest guard.
"Artanis mentioned a library earlier. Where can I find it?"
"The closest and largest would be the Unified Templar Archives." the Dark Templar replied, turning his head. "It was originally a repository of Dark Templar lore and history, but in these changing times it also houses copies of all the refugees from Aiur were able to carry with them."
The subject of the divide between the Protoss had drawn Raziel's interest before. That two factions of the same people would become so deeply divided over ideology, diverge and evolve along such different paths, and yet somehow reunite despite the obstacles and misgivings was something he found intriguing. The fact that both factions had also managed to develop different techniques and grow in prowess as warriors was also a factor behind his interest.
The Dark Templar approach was simply more in line with his own approach and set of abilities. While many other vampires were more inclined towards the magical arts, Raziel had always been a fighter first and foremost, and his transformation into a wraith had simply provided him with additional abilities that suited his way of doing things. While had had tracked down a set of powerful magical glyphs during his hunt for Kain, the fact that they required energy charges to function was a significant drawback, and he usually refrained from using them in emergencies. While useful for stealth purposes, his ability to discard his physical form and move through the spectral realm was dangerous to consider in such an unfamiliar landscape, especially since he had no idea how he might be able to regain physical form without the conduits he had access to on Nosgoth. While Raziel had not given much thought about what to do after dealing with Kain, the thought of what to do without the conduits had crossed his mind. Despite his tentacled sponsor's grandiose speeches, he did not trust the creature – and had not truly trusted anyone before finding himself so suddenly displaced. In a way, it was fittingly ironic that he would find a sense of kinship with beings so alien, in such a distant world from his own. While he had not spent much time around Raynor and his crew, he could sympathize with their position, having felt the sting of betrayal himself. However, he had not seen the humans again since they had dropped him off at Shakuras.
August 19, 2502, 13:20
Unified Templar Archives
Shakuras
About an hour later, Raziel arrived at his destination. Though there were faster means of travel, he insisted on walking the entire distance, mostly to take in his surroundings and to have time to digest the mass of thoughts swirling in his might. The latter was still a work in progress by the time he stopped walking.
With an annoyed scowl, he made his way to the large, prominent Archives complex and through the large golden gates and into the ample courtyard. The structure appeared ancient and important, built from a blend of masonry and metal, its surface adorned with complex carvings and crystal ornaments. The garden outside was decorated with large statues, and although his grasp of the Protoss written language was still lacking, his gaze lingered on one particular statue, placed in the center and surrounded by the others. While he did not recognize its features, there was something powerful and commanding about the being's presence, even through a stone effigy rather than the original.
Being idle for too long, he had realized, had the unwelcome side effect of making him ruminate on his thoughts, which would often leave him tense and frustrated. Kain was still nowhere to be found, and his quest for vengeance was the only focus of his existence. Being unable to pursue this focus, he found that studying the details of his surroundings was a good way to keep himself from growing too restless.
With this same purpose, he entered the building proper. Upon an ancient antechamber he saw the path splitting into two, and in front of him stood a wall upon which a row of ancient banners were hanging on display, each of them bearing a different color and insignia.
The sight gave him pause. He had heard mention of the Protoss tribes in passing, and it did not take him long to realize what exactly he was looking at, but this display also dredged up unpleasant memories. The betrayal by his brothers, emerging only to find that the clans had devolved into grotesque monstrosities in his absence, and the final insult of realizing that his own clan had been wiped out, likely in a deliberate move by Kain to prevent them from turning against the others once they discovered the fate of their lord. Recoiling, as if struck, he forced those memories out of his consciousness for the time being, raising a clenched fist.
"Ah." a familiar voice interrupted his thoughts. "Unpleasant reminders?"
Startled, Raziel quickly spun around, only to find Pharon glancing at him.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, regaining his composure.
"I suppose I forgot to mention that I have been doing some research in the Archives myself." Pharon explained. "But given the portion of your history that you previously shared, it would hardly be surprising that the sight of the banners would give you pause."
"Your tribes have not degenerated, however." Raziel pointed out.
"But they spent centuries fighting each other in petty squabbles, tore our society apart when the Dark Templar rejected the Khala, and through their inaction, bickering and politics allowed the Zerg to gain a foothold on Aiur while they were busy stroking their own egos."
Raziel quirked an eyebrow. He was not used to hearing a Protoss refer to their own people in such terms, even if his choice of words accurately summed up a good portion of what Raziel had already heard.
"My people blindly followed a mad tyrant, spread the cancer of vampirism all over Nosgoth, slaughtered an entire clan of their own kin on his orders, and eventually turned into twisted mockeries of their original forms, until they reached the state of territorial animals and little else. An insult to their world and ultimately irrelevant, wallowing in the ruin they created." Raziel pointed out. "Your people have been around much longer, and in turn made more mistakes, but they are not a dead end in every sense of the term, and are already making considerable progress since their reunification."
Pharon paused, pondering the wraith's words. A thought hit him as he did so.
"Assuming that you manage to find a way back and dispose of Kain, what will you do then?"
"Disposing of him should restore the Pillars, at the very least. Every shred of knowledge I have in this regard says this much. Once Nosgoth is back to a state of balance, the rest of the filth will still need to be removed. Perhaps the land will purge itself without further aid. If I must, I will do it myself by hand, one at a time. After that, I do not know."
"I must confess the intricacies of such devices still eludes my understanding." Pharon pondered, making a sound equivalent to a sigh. "I still cannot fathom what purpose they would serve, and having the integrity of your entire world hinging on their state seems frankly reckless."
"Yes… Nobody knows exactly who created them or why they exist. Only that they do, and that they must be restored."
"Is there no one left alive who might know more about their purpose?"
"Not to my knowledge. The closest would probably be Kain, as he was meant to be the guardian of Balance before he was corrupted."
"Corrupted, you say? So the downfall of the Pillars was not caused solely by his refusal to carry out his duty, was it?"
"From what I was told, his vampirism is at the root of the problem. The preceding Guardians were murdered, in the case of his direct predecessor, or went insane. I do not know all the details of what transpired, but the Pillars select new guardians at birth. Ariel, the previous Balance Guardian, was murdered, and when her lover, Nupraptor, the Guardian of the Pillar of the Mind, discovered her corpse, he went insane. Suspecting treachery among the Circle of Nine, he in turn infected the others with his madness. Kain was once human, and he was murdered and turned into a vampire before he could ever discover his destiny and take over his duties, but from what Ariel's spirit told me, the only cure for his condition was true death. His state made him unfit to be a Guardian, and as long as he existed, the Pillars could not choose a replacement."
"Curious… and rather suspicious. It almost sounds as if someone orchestrated those events in order to topple the Circle… and as if Kain was merely a pawn in all of this."
"Regardless of whether he is a pawn or not, his existence is a blight." Raziel pointedly retorted. "Not only is his continued existence keeping the Pillars in their current state, and by extension all of Nosgoth in ruin, but the vampirism he has spread is a curse in itself. Souls are trapped and stagnating, cut off from the cycle of life, death and rebirth. I believe the entity that explained this to me referred to it as some sort of… Wheel of Fate."
Those words seemed to give the Protoss pause. He stared at Raziel for a moment and finally voiced his thoughts.
"And who exactly told you about this?"
"A strange entity. I am not entirely sure what to call him… or it. Some sort of creature from the depths, calling itself the Elder God, while appearing like a gigantic squid. Admittedly, I had no reason to trust it or its self-important ramblings, but it did provide me the means to make myself manifest in the physical realm again through some conduits it controls."
Pharon's entire posture seemed to change. He straightened up and grabbed Raziel's wrist somewhat forcefully, leading him further into the library.
"What are you doing?" the wraith asked, somewhat surprised.
"Come. You need to see this."
Pharon led him across multiple chambers, laden with colossal shelves filled to the brim with data crystals and other, more archaic means of data storage, from electronic storage devices to woven tapestries, rolls of parchment and even stone tablets. Finally, he stopped in front of one particular shelf, in what appeared to be a restricted section of the complex, and pulled a large stone tablet from it. He turned it to Raziel, revealing what appeared to be an extremely old example of the written language of the Protoss, and pointed at it, providing the translation.
"The Voice in the Void hungers, eternally ravenous, never satiated. Its tendrils spread across the stars, gripping worlds and inflicting madness upon minds, gathering strength until it can impose its terrible will. It and its minions bear many forms, shifting to suit its needs, but the most primordial one is that of a being from some unfathomable abyss, perhaps from an ocean never beheld by mortal eyes."
Raziel paused, then blinked.
"What exactly is this? Some sort of treatise on ancient mythology?"
"No. This is the only surviving excerpt of a warning once given to us by the Xel'Naga when they visited Aiur in ancient times and guided our people's evolution. Our ancestors were too proud, and grew arrogant after becoming confident in the gifts of psionics and heightened intellect given to them. Not wanting to resort to violence, the Xel'Naga left, but not before making a final gift of some of their knowledge repositories. Eventually they came upon the primordial ancestors of the Zerg, tampered with their evolution… and created the Overmind, which turned on them."
"I believe I have heard mention of the Xel'Naga a few times. But always in reverent tones. Your description suggests something else."
"Such as with many other things, one seems unable to appreciate the value of something until it is gone. After the initial euphoria of their self-professed triumph faded, our people realized they had driven away their greatest benefactors. In penance they adopted their teachings and sought them out to no avail, and this is why the Xel'Naga are the closest thing to deities in our culture. But we never truly understood the final purpose of their experiments. They traveled from world to world, seeing out species with potential and elevating them, but for what purpose, we never knew. Only that they were searching for purity of form and essence, and that there was a certain urgency about it. They seemed to be working under some kind of schedule… and running out of time."
"This does not bode well. But what did they mean about the Void?"
"While the Protoss who remained on Aiur and followed the path of the Khala used pure psionics and their communal psychic link, the exiles who eventually settled on Shakuras learned to combine it with the Void. The power of emptiness, of the nothing between the stars. On Aiur, they were once persecuted, and would have been slaughtered to the last if not for Adun's mercy in covertly helping them escape. As such, their abilities are often geared towards the shadows, hiding their presence from those that would do them harm… or strike back. I do not know if you are aware of this, but these energies also had the effect of disrupting the Zerg's own psychic connections. Their Cerebrates could be endlessly reborn by the Overmind's will if slain by conventional means. When Zeratul slew the first Cerebrate, the shock was actually enough to temporarily stun the Overmind itself. This was also how Tassadar was able to destroy the creature. He combined the psionic energy of the Templar and the Void wielded by the Dark Templar, using his flagship as a conduit like a colossal bomb."
"It would appear then that there is more to the Void than even they are aware of… and that this so-called emptiness is not entirely empty."
"Yes… Even in the Void there are… beings. I am not certain whether they can be called life forms, but there is definitely something there. A force, a presence. This is something all Dark Templar learn to tune out when they first begin wielding it."
"And you think this giant squid is connected to it?"
"In the past there were those who delved too deeply into the Void… and paid the price. Their minds were often shattered, and in their delirium they provided eerily similar accounts of beings shaped like nightmarish sea life. I do not think it was a coincidence that the being who told you about this Wheel of Fate had such an appearance."
"And the Dark Templar harness these energies without coming to harm?"
"Yes. Given everything you have told me, I think it is all the more reason for you to learn their techniques to the extent of your ability. Your psionic abilities may not be as developed as those of the Protoss, but you are still able to use telepathy and telekinesis, as well as manifest yourself physically despite your… diminished state. While that creature's conduits may prove convenient, I do believe that given time and practice, you might be able to find other means of manifesting yourself in the physical realm."
"And what of this Wheel of Fate?" Raziel asked. "The term seemed to strike a chord with you."
"I can answer that." Patmos said, stepping into view from behind another shelf as if he had been waiting there all along.
Raziel, silently admitting to himself that he should not really be surprised by his intervention, allowed him to say his piece.
"The Xel'Naga were, from what we could tell, fixated on some sort of cycle similar to what you describe, at a macrocosmic scale and over the span of aeons. Truth be told, even I am not certain if they are even native to this universe, or perhaps to some other that existed before this one. After all, they never even revealed their true forms to us. They always acted using disguises, avatars or proxies."
"You have given me much to ponder." Raziel said, nodding appreciatively to both Protoss. "For now I will only ask you this. Who should I speak to in order to expedite my training?"
"An interesting question." Pharon said. "You have already picked up the basic principles, but you need work putting them into practice. You would need someone experienced enough to provide the insights you need and flexible enough to accommodate your peculiarities. With the Matriarch dead and her likely successor still missing, perhaps Artanis can recommend someone. As Tassadar's former apprentice, his words carry weight with both factions of the Protoss and he has been overseeing the full reunification of our people."
"Then I will seek him out. Thank you."
"Before you go, one final word of advice." Patmos added. "Do not be too quick to take everything you are told at face value… or the professed intentions of those who approach you. As you have already noticed, your world appears to be caught in a tangled web of manipulation, and whether in Nosgoth or in a different universe, what others choose to divulge depends on both their perspective and agenda."
"Should I apply this to your own statements then?" Raziel pointed out with a hint of amusement.
"If you so choose. Beware of those who speak with absolute certainty. They have their own vision of the future and will seek to bind you to it."
"So says the prophet." Raziel remarked with a hint of sarcasm.
"The future is not set in stone, even if some of the warnings about it are. Not even seers are omniscient, and prophecies are always subject to interpretation. The events they pertain to are often much more complex than most beings realize, and no one can truly see where all the threads are laid out in the tapestry of existence. We simply read the patterns, discern what we can from what we are able to glimpse, and the rest is up to those in a position to act."
"In Nosgoth the view on the nature of time is rather… different and less flexible." Raziel pointed out. "The consensus seems to be that time is a fixed path."
"Then either your world follows a different set of rules of existence… or someone merely wants you to think so. If I did not believe that the future can be changed, I would not be standing before you today. The things I have seen… and lived through… I would not have endured all of it unless I believed that something different, something better could come of it."
That remark made Raziel painfully aware that there was something terribly wrong about the ancient Protoss. He concealed it well most of the time, but at that fleeting moment of weakness his impassive veneer faltered, and Raziel saw how terribly tired he seemed, as if bearing a tremendous burden others could not see.
"Just what have your visions shown you, elder?" Raziel asked, startled at the sudden shift in his perception.
"More than you would ever wish to know." Patmos retorted, quickly composing himself. Though the subtleties of the Protoss and their body language were still something Raziel was in the process of learning, he could sense a degree of annoyance. The prophet was clearly unnerved about his momentary slip up, and tried to end the conversation quickly.
"If you survive your own ordeals for the sake of your world, then you will find out sooner or later. For now, focus on claiming your destiny… once you know what you want it to be."
And with that, he made his exit, leaving Raziel and Pharon exchanging puzzled glances.
Moments later, Raziel finally broke the silence.
"So… I take it you two are acquainted?"
"I have studied the history of our people. All neophyte scholars cross paths with Patmos sooner or later. We always found his knowledge of more obscure portions of said history baffling."
"Is he always like this?"
"He was more talkative than usual." Pharon conceded. "I suppose there is something about a visitor from another sea of stars that draws even his curiosity."
Raziel shrugged.
"Well then. Perhaps we should look for Artanis before someone else decides to regale us with their loquaciousness. The way some people enjoy their speeches, the stars might grow cold before I find a way home."
All things considered, Raziel had definitely found the encounter unnerving. While those on Nosgoth tended to speak with smug, self-important certainty in matters of destiny and the future, Patmos was the exact opposite, speaking of freedom but also expressing doubt. That was more unsettling in a way, and as he and Pharon stepped outside, he wondered what exactly the ancient Protoss was not telling him, and what he might have seen that seemed to disturb him so.
Composing himself for the moment, Raziel started walking, out of the building. Pharon followed, noticing his mood and keeping a concerned eye on him, but refraining from commenting. As they reached the front courtyard, Raziel looked around.
"Where would Artanis be at a time like this?"
"Likely meeting with representatives." Pharon said, consulting a device mounted on his wrist. "After all, he is the closest thing we have as a head of government at the moment, and he is having enough trouble between the tribalist tensions and the Telorus getting ideas about going after the Zerg. It will not be easy to secure a portion of his time."
"Then what would you recommend?"
"I thin you know the answer already."
"Selendis." Raziel said with a sigh.
The current Executor had not exactly impressed him. During their first meetings, she had seemed haughty, somewhat arrogant, dismissive of outsiders and overeager for battle, though she had always treated him with respect as a guest and seemed genuinely appreciative of his efforts to assist her people in battle.
In retrospective, her posture and attitude seemed a little too familiar, and he wondered if that was part of the reason why he had felt a certain dislike and annoyance. He paused for a moment to ponder this notion.
In a way, many of the Protoss he had encountered had a rather fanatical drive, though unlike the Sarafan, their strategies seemed to be more based on the long term, likely a consequence of their longer lifespans. There was also the fact that they did not jump to purge everything different from them with fire, though that had not always been the case.
Artanis could barely conceal his disgust at being forced to flee Aiur at times, though Tassadar's influence had clearly led him to seeking a full reconciliation with the Dark Templar. Selendis, possibly due to the same effect, did not seem to care much about the old divisions, but rather about proving the strength of the Protoss and retaking their homeworld. Though he had only encountered Telorus a few times, he could sense a quiet, burning fury that would manifest in his speeches to great effect.
Pharon and Patmos seemed like anomalies in comparison. One was overly inquisitive and eager to try new things. The other stood apart from the societal changes and war effort for the most part, keeping his eyes on an unsettling horizon only he seemed to be able to glimpse. Both were seemingly willing to question everything, even truths held as absolute by others.
Pushing those thoughts aside for the moment, he reached for the golden armlet on his left forearm, a welcoming gift from Artanis. Though he was still learning the written language of the Protoss, the interface was thankfully intuitive enough, and there appeared to be some kind of psionic interface that was compensating for his limited knowledge by reacting to his intent. Surely enough, he was able to locate the Executor's personal communication frequency and establish a link. The blue gem on the device created a holographic projection of her face.
"What can I do for our honored guest?" she asked, looking somewhat surprised for a fraction of a second.
"Is the Council in Session at the moment?" he asked.
"Yes. I would assume that you need something from the Hierarch?" she asked. For a moment he wondered if she was able to read his mind, a feat no Protoss had seemed to accomplish so far.
"Yes. How did you guess?"
She simply shrugged.
"I am not known as a good conversationalist, and I doubt you would call merely for small talk." she said rather bluntly.
"Fair enough." he said, appreciating the honesty, but not confirming or denying her assertion.
"Still, you are our guest, and the Hierarch did instruct me to extend every possible courtesy to you as such. What can his right hand do for you?"
"I am looking for someone who can help me better understand the methods of the Dark Templar… and train me in their ways… as much as possible, given the biological differences."
"I see. You have already experienced the basics, and with surprising aptitude." she said. For his part, he was not surprised that she would be keeping tabs on his activities. "You have done well so far mostly watching the training grounds and taking in what you saw, but a teacher would certainly benefit you."
"In time, perhaps I can also consider looking further into the High Templar methods." Raziel remarked. "I have already found an erstwhile teacher in the form of a rather peculiar elder."
"Ah yes." Selendis remarked. "Him..." There was something in her tone that suggested she was not entirely fond of Patmos for some reason.
"Do you have something against Patmos that I should be aware of?" Raziel asked.
"Not so much against him, but rather how utterly baffling he is." she replied. "His existence is documented, he has a verified tribe lineage, but very few people actually associate with him and his personal records are… sparse and strange."
"What do you mean?" Pharon asked.
"It is an extremely unusual birth name and the last we had on record was a contemporary of Adun. His lifespan, if the records are accurate, is remarkable, and yet he has no known living relatives, no descendants, no affiliations or known associates in our forces, and no registered residence or spacecraft. It is as if he simply exists."
"What do you make of this?" Raziel asked, intrigued. "He is certainly real enough, and has a tendency to appear out of nowhere."
"Before the Dark Templar were officially known and the old Aiur fell into near civil war, there were some who cut themselves off from society entirely. Ciphers, living alone or in very small, closed groups, who rejected the form our civilization was taking. Many formally joined the Dark Templar and left with them, but others remained unaccounted for over an extended period."
"Do you suspect Patmos to be one of them, then?" Raziel asked.
"Perhaps. Or perhaps he is something else entirely."
"Such as?" Pharon asked.
"The Zerg are unable to infest our people. It appears to be biologically impossible, though whether that has to do with Xel'Naga engineering or not, we do not know." she said. "Yet there is definitely something strange about him. He seems to genuinely have our people's interests in mind so we leave him alone, but these are uncertain times."
"Do you speak of the re-emerging tribalism?" Raziel asked.
"Fortunately, that is no longer a concern for now." Selendis said. "There is fair representation in the Council and the Hierarch is attempting social reforms that may make the caste system and the tribes themselves obsolete in the long run, plus the progress in recovering our ancient weapons has focused our society on the common goal of retaking the homeworld."
"And yet, I sense some unease in you." Raziel said pointedly. "I thought you of all Protoss would be happy about these developments. You will finally have the opportunity to engage in battle and avenge your people."
Selendis was impressed that he was able to read her intent.
"Yes… I suppose so. But the way things are progressing… feels strange."
"What do you mean?" Raziel asked.
"The dissent was over extremely quickly." she said. "Almost too quickly and too smoothly. The thought of retaking Aiur is overtaking everything else. Before this, our focus after losing Aiur was survival. Now, Aiur is the main concern, and to some it is becoming an obsession. Some warriors are spending days at a time at the training grounds until they collapse from exhaustion. Our patrols on this star system are becoming overconfident and reckless. This is not normal."
"These weapons you recovered… What are they like?" Raziel asked, having seen some images in passing but little more.
"The armaments of our so-called golden age..." she said with a hint of bitterness. "The Colossi, tall land weapons that stride across all kinds of terrain on elongated legs with powerful energy beam weapons. The Motherships, large, resilient and armed with Planet Cracker cannons. And yes, the name is quite literal. At their maximum output, they could physically annihilate a world."
"So what made you cast them aside and seal them away?" Raziel asked.
"One of the darkest chapters of our history." she said with shame. "The Kalathi Intercession."
"Back in the day, our people were highly expansionist and sought to shepherd other sentient species." Pharon asked. "We would place them under our protection and try to elevate them. The Kalathi Intercession put an end to that. Our fleets once stumbled across a world on all out civil war and our people sought to put a stop to this. Our forces landed with all their pomp and circumstance, seeing themselves as saviors… and promptly earned the ire of both sides of the conflict. Our leaders were outraged at the perceived ingratitude and sent more forces, and the conflict eventually escalated to the point where the Kalathi became extinct. Between the collateral damage of our weapons, the Kalathi's drive to fight what they saw as an invasion and some highly volatile chemicals present in their world..."
"Good intentions and large armaments do not always mix well." Raziel remarked.
"Indeed." Selendis said. "And so, in shame for our actions, we took our greatest weapons and sealed them away in caves and vaults in distant moons and dead worlds. If we had them at our side, perhaps Aiur would not have fallen, but the purges in the Conclave's name would have been far worse."
"Meaning the entire sector would have been out for our blood and we could not have expected any assistance from Terrans such as Raynor." Pharon pointed out.
Selendis made a sound that seemed like the closest approximation of a groan to Raziel before replying.
"While I do not appreciate the thought of the Protoss having to rely on outsiders, I cannot deny his valor and his fighting spirit. It is a difficult position to be in, considering the Hierarch and the people's regard for him for fighting by Tassadar's side."
It seemed once again to Raziel that this was, above all, a matter of pride. Perhaps she did not want her people to appear weak, complacent or incompetent, as she spoke with a mixture of respect and frustration.
"Would your stance be different had he been born a Protoss?" Pharon pointed out.
That seemed to strike a nerve as she tensed up.
"Perhaps." she conceded. "One of Tassadar's teachings was that we should learn to accept and respect those who are different from us. For some it s easier than others. His actions did save the lives of countless of our people and he did so despite having other battles of his own to fight, and the Conclave's contempt and pride to contend with."
Raziel felt that he was beginning to understand the young Executor better, but he did not wish to burn too much time on these tangents.
"Perhaps you should speak of all this with him directly on his next visit." Raziel remarked. "In the meantime, who do you think would be a suitable teacher for my needs?"
"There is one I can think of. His name is Zolmus. You may have seen him at the training grounds. He is an experienced veteran who worked with Zeratul himself. Some might have wished him to take over in his stead, but he insists that his place is in the front lines."
"I cannot say I recall seeing him."
"He would probably say that this means he is doing his job properly." Selendis said, showing a rare hint of amusement. "He can be somewhat difficult to read, but his methods are unquestionably effective."
"It sounds as though you know him personally." Raziel remarked.
"He was one of those responsible for welcoming the survivors from Aiur and finding them proper lodgings. A bit obstinate and opinionated, but he went well above what was required of him."
"He sounds like an interesting sort." Raziel said. "So, assuming I do not wish to search the entire training grounds for him, how would I find him?"
Selendis paused for a moment, looking at something nearby for a moment.
"At this hour he would be meditating in his chambers. Most of the Dark Templar under his supervision would be either in group exercises or sorting out their equipment for the upcoming campaign."
"Speaking of which, what has been happening in my absence?" Raziel asked.
"We found more of the constructs you uncovered in the moons of Shakuras and other places in the system. All made of a strange combination of stolen Khaydarin crystals and Zerg biomatter. All playing variations of the same threats before shutting down."
"Bizarre." Raziel said, raising an eyebrow. "I thought the one I found might have been directly linked to Kerrigan somehow, but this..."
"Indeed."
"And what of their function?" Pharon asked. "Were you able to determine it?"
"They seemed to act as some kind of relays." Selendis explained. "While nowhere near as complex as Cerebrates, they seemed to have a definite effect on the Zerg in the area. Perhaps they control relays of some sort. But they were all too badly damaged for us to be certain. They appeared to self-destruct when we discovered them."
"And in all this time you still have not found any more Cerebrates?" Pharon asked.
"No, and the reason why is perplexing."
"Do tell." Raziel said.
"It seems that after finalizing her takeover of the Swarm, Kerrigan personally slaughtered all the Cerebrates."
Pharon and Raziel exchanged glances.
"All of them?" Pharon asked. "Are you sure?"
"My understanding of the Zerg is still limited..." Raziel said. "But would that not mean that the entire Swarm is now under her direct control?"
"Indeed." Pharon said. "We know that Kerrigan was an obscenely powerful psion even before her transformation, but this…"
"Her powers may have reached a pinnacle beyond our worst estimates." Selendis said with concern. "Which is all the more reason for the planned assault to be prepared and executed with all due haste. We cannot allow her to become any more powerful."
"Even if she is capable of control on such a scale..." Raziel pointed out. "Why would she destroy her own commanders?" Kain's betrayal and his subsequent retaliation against his brothers was still fresh in his mind, and he would probably never be able to forget those events even if he wanted to.
"We have some theories about it, but no concrete proof." Selendis said. "Given how unhinged she became in both power and methods, perhaps she is trying to destroy what was left of the old ruling body of the Zerg. Honestly, we still do not know much about their internal structure, only that the Cerebrates had their individual will and personalities, though completely subservient to the Overmind. Several of them merged together in an attempt to create a new Overmind, which Zeratul killed before it could fully develop. Others were still unaccounted for, however."
"Does Raynor know of all of this?" Raziel asked.
"No. He was taking care of matters of his own." Selendis explained. "Though he did uncover some of the devices and brought them to us, he was gone before we could speak of the results of the analysis. It is not uncommon for him to drop out of contact for months at a time in his war against the Dominion. We also asked him to limit his intervention in the preparations for now, since there are still some who resent his involvement in internal affairs. Mostly remnants of the old Conclave or their underlings. They probably still resent him for interfering as an outsider, despite his service in Aiur and elsewhere."
"A matter of wounded pride then?" Raziel asked.
"Most likely." Selendis agreed. "But times are changing and there is danger in clinging to the past. Those who do so tend to idolize it and overlook old mistakes."
"I do hope Raynor's offer to join the assault will be taken seriously." Raziel said, understanding well the need to settle certain matters with his own hands. "I will be there as well, of course."
"It is not for me to decide." Selendis said. "But I am certain that the Hierarch feels as you do. We will speak of this again when the time is right."
"So for now, where can I find Zolmus?"
"I will send you the coordinates for his chambers." Selendis said.
"I have a shuttle nearby." Pharon said. "We can take it there."
"Thank you both, then." Raziel said graciously. He was definitely still not used to people being so courteous and accepting.
As they located the parked shuttle and boarded it, a cloaked figure moved from its position atop the head of one of the statues, undetected by those present. It jumped to the ground without a sound and quickly darted away.
August 19, 2502, 15:00
Dark Templar Training Grounds
New Talematros
Shakuras
As expected from a people with a long nomadic past, Raziel found the Dark Templar training grounds spartan and modest, with practicality in mind above all. However, the eventual settling on Shakuras and the reconstruction and expansion efforts after the influx of refugees from Aiur and the damage dealt by Kerrigan had resulted in an overhauling of much of the military structures. The training grounds were no exception. While maintaining its humble appearance, the structure had been upgraded and reinforced in order to house, train and equip great numbers simultaneously and better withstand enemy incursions. Raziel had seen the last phase of the construction work in previous visits, but he was still impressed. Instead of merely warping in structures like they did in most military expeditions offworld, the Protoss had manually assembled the structure, giving it a distinct aesthetic.
Despite already having a passing familiarity with the structure, he had never heard of Zolmus and would have had no idea where to find his quarters if Selendis had not provided the coordinates. He was not surprised to realize that they were actually a short distance from the entrance, in an underground chamber. This would likely allow him to surprise any would be invaders and keep them from reaching the quarters where the trainees resided.
Expecting the door to be locked, he knocked, and to his surprise it opened. While the novelty of automatic doors had worn off by now, he was still a bit unnerved by how some of them had the habit of slamming shut as soon as he was done crossing. To compound his surprise, the chamber was empty. Dim lights embedded in the walls lit up, recognizing his presence and revealing the room in shades of dark purple. Raziel and Pharon exchanged glances and looked around. They saw a large shelf against one of the walls, lined with dozens if not hundreds of crystals. On the other side, to their right, they saw a short table surrounded by a few pillows. Not too far from it was a sleeping bag set over a thick mattress, with a large chunk of crystal a few feet from it, radiating heat.
The chamber was completely silent, and the two quietly wondered where its occupant might have run off to. It was then that Raziel sensed something faint in his mind's eye, something he could not quite describe.
"Someone else is here." he whispered, though he was not sure if anyone could eavesdrop on his form of telepathy.
He lit up the Reaver and quickly spun around, slashing behind his position. He struck something. A humanoid figure clad completely in black was forced out of whatever cloaking it was using, clutching the cauterized stump where a hand had just been removed from. In a fit of rage, it lit up a blade, much similar to the ones Raziel had seen the Dark Templar wield, and lunged at him. Two more figures quickly did the same, unwilling to let the insult go unpunished even if it meant blowing their cover. Raziel swiftly drove the Reaver through the one handed assailant's chest and felt its soul break free as the Reaver severed the bonds holding the atoms of its body together. For his part, Pharon produced a straight energy blade from the device on his right forearm, much like a Zealot's. With his left hand he directed a jolt of energy that shocked the second assailant, freezing it in place before lunging in. The third assailant tried to parry his blow and in the ensuing scuffle Pharon's blade made contact with the emitter for its own, causing it to shut down in a shower of sparks. Its weapon out of commission, it tried to run away but before it could make it to the chamber door, something physically struck it and sent it tumbling backwards, falling on its rear. The second assailant managed to shrug off the effects of the jolt and lunged at Pharon, only for him to sidestep the attack and slash its throat. It fell with a gurgling sound, clutching the cauterized area.
With the typical whooshing sound Raziel had come to associate with cloaking devices, a fourth figure revealed itself, facing them with its back to the door, clad in traditional Dark Templar garb.
"Zolmus, I presume?" Raziel asked.
"Adun Toridas, Raziel." the Dark Templar said with a deep, rumbling voice. "I cannot say I am surprised to see you here. The interlopers, however, I could do without."
Raziel and Pharon took a good look at them now that the fight was effectively over. Their forms were definitely humanoid and their garments bore striking similarities to the Dark Templar garb, with a baggy and definitely alien design, however they covered the entire surface of their bodies and bore no identifying marks.
Zolmus turned to face the sole survivor, still lying prone, and pointed his dark purple warp blade at its throat.
"You are not Narezim, and most definitely not Tal'darim. Who are you? More of Ulrezaj's cronies?"
The figure did not respond. Instead, it glared at Zolmus, its hatred palpable despite its eyes being covered. Its hands twitched, and it fell to the ground in convulsions. Before any of the three could figure out what had just happened, all the corpses started hissing and disappeared in puffs of thick black smoke, leaving no trace behind.
"What in the name of the Abyss just happened?" Raziel asked. "I have never seen anything like this."
"Neither have I." Pharon said. "What about you, Maser Zolmus?"
"I do not think I have ever encountered anything like this." Zolmus said. "The cloaking and armaments are common. The outfits and smoke trick, not so much. Regardless, we have much to discuss. I was already expecting our visitor to come see me personally."
"Did the Void whisper that to you?" Raziel asked, half seriously.
"I have seen you bumbling around the training grounds." Zolmus said bluntly. "You clearly have some aptitude, but there is only so much you can learn by watching and imitating. Plus, Selendis knows I can be gone in a moment's notice and called me ahead of time so you would not be speaking to a wall."
"I suppose I should thank her for that courtesy later." Raziel said, his gaze wandering around the room. He was still not completely familiar with traditional Protoss living space, and his current physiology robbed him of much in the way of physical sensation. He guessed that the large crystal was some kind of heater and that the sleeping bag was rather comfortable but the veteran Dark Templar did not wish to become complacent. The crystals on the shelf, however, eluded him.
Zolmus seemed to notice his wandering gaze and gestured at the shelf.
"Each of them a recorded memory from a pupil." he explained. "For centuries we labored to survive and conceal our presence. The Zerg turned all our planning upside down. For the most part we were content to explore the distant reaches of space or train and meditate. Most of my pupils are out on the field, scouting for threats to our people. But come."
And with that, he led them to the short table and sat down. Raziel and Pharon did the same.
