Chapter 42

Guest- Yeah an account called Gamer95 keeps making these types of fics, but never finishes them. Like they keep making new stories with the same concept over and over again, but they rarely ever finish them. If you want more of this type of stuff, it's one of the main inspirations for the fic in the first place, check their account, though I warn you that there is some heavy bashing for certain characters at times, some of which can, admittedly go too far.

Evowizard25- Yeah, I hope so. I would like to treat the characters faithfully as much as possible.

Konsilisto- By Blood for the Blood God, I'm assuming you're meaning it'll turn into a Chaos stomp where they corrupt everything easily and without challenge. I'm trying to avoid that and I think I have a good premise, but I'll need to write it before I can fully see if it's a good call or not.

My suggestion is not that type of Chaos Warrior, where they can tank magical hits and be fine. My wording was bad, but what I mean is a type of Chaos Warrior that specializes in not resisting the magic but helping Tzeentch wizards as well by absorbing it and then redirecting it to their wizards. Think of them like a sponge, where they absorb the power of the magic before they redirect it towards their friendly wizards safely. I think that's better wording to what I originally intended for them.

Blue Scribes aren't at the top of the list of Tzeentch followers right now, unfortunately. Right now, the top contender is Vilitch the Curseling. Followed by Kairos, the Changeling, and Egrimm van Horstmann. Plus, I don't really think I need comic relief from the bad guys when you have that with the Fairy Tail characters. That and the fact that the first time they're actually going to, probably, appear is during the Tenrou Island arc, which is not the best time for comic relief. And any corruption for Diederick by Chaos hands is going to appear after Tenrou Island. So, Blue Scribes aren't really a factor right now.

Maybe not jellyfish really, but that does give me an idea. So thanks.

Lokhir Fellheart

Lokhir's sister simply smiled, eyeing her brother, before speaking.

"That would be a fine idea brother. Now that you have finally decided to come back to Karond Kar." Said Lokhir's sister, a Dark Elf by the name of Carasta Fellheart. "Did my messenger fail to tell you of the importance of your urgent arrival?" She then glanced at her messenger, who tried to stay stoic, but found he couldn't in the face of the stone-cold stare of Carasta, whose beauty didn't take away much, if at all, of the disappointment she was giving him.

Where Lokhir was boisterous and often executed those that failed him, Carasta took a more subtle approach when it comes expressing her disappointment at failure. If one of her servants failed her, Carasta often took something of great value from them. Whether it be a close family member or destroying a precious heirloom, Carasta's punishments were more subtle than other Druchii lords and ladies, but no less deadly. And to make matters worse, she does so in ways that make it near impossible to trace her to the actions. Even those that tried to expose her often rivals to the Fellhearts, have come up with nothing or disappeared entirely. More so the former than the latter as it causes fewer issues to Carasta. Plus, she just loved the thoughts of her family rivals squirming in rage as their servants came up with nothing and then executed said servants for their failures.

And then there were the times when someone fails her spectacularly enough. Should that happen, she would personally torture them herself. Despite having never been in combat before like her other siblings, Carasta was nonetheless efficient in dealing with both physical and spiritual punishment to those that fail her. In fact, years of personally torturing slaves and incompetent servants have made honed her skills in enacting punishment. To the point that even the strongest of wills can be broken by her, given time. She was so skilled that Lokhir often turned to her when he needed to set an example to fresh recruits to his fleet or when he needed to break a rather stubborn prisoner or slave. After all, what's the point of family if they can't rely on one another in times of need?

It was a concept that was foreign to many other Druchii families but understood by the Fellhearts. So, needless to say, the messenger was worried about the fate that would await him by Carasta. Amused with the fear from the messenger, Lokhir nonetheless stepped in. After all, the messenger did his duty. There was no point in inflicting punishment on him, especially when he told Lokhir constantly, but respectfully, that he needed to return back to Karond Kar.

"He did. However, I made a promise to the Witch King to provide thousands of slaves to help fuel the economy of Naggarond." Said Lokhir, causing Carasta to turn to him. As she did, Lokhir took a moment to appreciate his sister's beauty.

Much like all Elven females, Carasta's hair was long and reached her lower back. Her black hair was silk-like and was as black as the darkest of caves in Naggaroth. Her milky white skin was smooth, unblemished, and looked so delicate that even the dullest of blades can cut it with ease. And her body was as perfect as any other Druchii woman. Far slimmer than even the most beautiful of females in the race of Men with fair curves that weren't overbearing like certain other Druchii females that were more show than function. And her face was as beautiful as Lokhir remembered. Beautiful, yet cruelly so in how its shape. In how it's near impossible for anyone to obtain without magically means and Carasta received it from birth. No magic involved. And then there was how her ruby-like eyes were almost feral in their look, much like his own blood-red eyes. All in all, Carasta was a perfect example of a beautiful Druchii woman. Beautiful, but done in a way that one must be careful in trying to obtain it. Otherwise, something may break. More often than not, it was the one that tried to obtain it in the first place. And then there were those that would try to maul such beauty because of jealously. Something Carasta knew all too well.

Her beauty was enough to draw the ire and jealously of fellow Druchii females. Even though they rivaled her in beauty, many still tried to assassinate her, both to remove competition and to get rid of a prominent figure in a rival house. Each and every time, Carasta prevailed against her assassination attempts, whether it be because of her guards or her own intelligence, Carasta prevailed and often punished those that dared to kill her when she can get away with it.

Carasta, eyeing her brother pointedly, spoke up.

"I see." Said Carasta, seeing that her brother was telling the truth. "But you could have easily have left that task to your officers. Many of whom were competent enough to operate without the guidance of their leader."

"True." Said Lokhir, having confidence in the capabilities of his officers. "But I prefer to lead my raids myself, sister. Otherwise, my reputation may plummet. Reputation, as you know sister, is everything. Even now, I suspect some of my officers are planning to kill me to take my place as lord of the fleet and the Blessed Dread. Only my reputation and my swordsmanship stay their hand. And that doesn't include the rivals to our house. And it would bode ill for our family if my reputation plummets, yes?" Carasta just nodded in agreement. Reputation was both a currency and weapon to all Druchii houses. It can both hold back the wolves from trying to take their holdings as well as ensure their house as the protection and favor of the Witch-King, who is constantly eyeing his favored houses for dissent and incompetence. Carasta may add to the reputation of their house along with their other siblings, but Lokhir's was the greatest source of fear and begrudging respect to Fellheart. His daring raids on all corners of the world were legendary to the eyes of the other noble houses, who focused more on the now and future than the past.

Should Lokhir's reputation fall, which can happen with even one failed raid, then their entire house will suffer from it. So, Carasta, much as she disliked it, understood her brother's stance.

"Yes, you are correct brother." Said Carasta. "Still, I thought the potential return of our greatest rival would bring you back here." Lokhir just laughed out loud at that.

"Believe me sister, I would if I wasn't on a raiding voyage." Said Lokhir. Carasta saw the truth in her brother's bloodthirsty eyes before nodding.

"Then let us discuss this further in a more secure location brother." Said Carasta. "I know just the place." Lokhir also knew the location before departing with his sister once she told the messenger that he was free to go, much to his noticeable relief. He'll be allowed to live for another day. For now.

With that matter resolved, Lokhir, Carasta, and her guards departed for a fine establishment owned by their family.

Later

Half an hour later

Half an hour of walking, the group found a large three-story tavern in Karond Kar called the Dreadful Veil. Called such because the owner was a former Black Ark Corsair that often used the cover of fog and darkness to ambush trading ships for their goods and crew. It was a successful career until one day, the Corsair's tactics were used against him by the High Elves. The resulting fight cost him an eye and most of his crew. The only reason he's still alive was that he managed to hijack a elven warship with his remaining crew and headed back to Karond Kar with a small number of magic artifacts that were worth something to the Sorceress of Ghrond.

After entering the establishment, the group was immediately attended to by several waiters and waitresses, many of whom were slaves from the race of Men. No doubt someone from the establishment saw their approach and did their best to accommodate them on short notice. The urgency in the eyes of the slaves and how quickly they led them upstairs to a room with insulated walls and no windows bar one. After quickly cleaning and setting the table, the slaves left them alone. Giving a small chuckle, Lokhir sat down with his sister opposite him. The guards remained standing and stood near the door and window. Once they were comfortable, Lokhir spoke.

"How is it possible that the Dreadwaters are still alive, sister?" Asked Lokhir. "Has our father not exterminated them to the last child during his purge of them?" Carasta simply tapped her fingers before replying.

"That is how I reacted when I received the news as well, brother." Said Carasta as the door to their room opened, causing their guards to be on alert. A waitress soon came inside, however, causing Carasta to stand down her guards. The waitress soon asked the two Fellhearts what they wish to eat. The two ordered steaks with water and a bit of wine. The two rarely drank wine. If they did, it was in small amounts. Mainly because they wish to maintain a constant state of awareness in case someone tries to kill them. With that waitress gone, the two went back to their conversation.

"As I was saying, I had thought that was well before, but recent events have been brought to my attention that the Dreadwaters aren't as dead as we once thought." Said Carasta. "As you know, while you are the head and face of the family, I'm the steward of our family while you're off securing our position and reputation. That includes our finances from all sources, not just our raiding ventures." Lokhir nodded at that. Contrary to what the lesser races believe, the Dark Elves do have other means to acquire riches. Not things mundane like farming. Such things are both unfeasible in Naggaroth and far too boring for even the lowest of Druchii. No, they also dabble in mining and wine production along with other essential components to society. Besides farming, of course. After all, it wouldn't do to attack their enemies if they were armed with ill-maintained weapons and ships.

The Fellhearts, being a house that was involved in both raiding and pillaging, had investments in both the shipbuilding and metal-forging industries for they needed both new ships and weapons if they wish to continue their raids. Carasta, being the shrewd Druchii that she was, had several people assassinated in the right places and then replaced them with people loyal to the Fellhearts and their money to help ensure not only do they have the finest materials for their ships and blades but also gained some money as well. It's not as profitable as their raids, but their investments were still a significant portion of their family's growing wealth. Enough that Carasta saw any decrease as a sign of something amiss going on.

Lokhir, upon hearing her mention their other ventures, put two and two together and spoke.

"Our finances have taken a hit, yes?" Asked Lokhir.

"Yes." Said Carasta. "A small, almost insignificant, decrease, but I'm not foolish enough to assume that it's nothing. No, I had our people investigate the matter and what they found was interesting. It wasn't just some workers foolishly hiding some blades and wood for profit, but an actual overseer in charge of shipping materials to our household and its forges was intentionally hiding entire wagons of materials for our house and selling them off to unknown buyers." Lokhir tapped his fingers at that.

"Interesting." Said Lokhir, hiding his rage and displeasure at this. "I assume you properly punished them after acquiring all that they knew, of course."

"Of course." Said Carasta with a sadistic smile. "I handled the interrogation myself. I always enjoy torturing my own kind, brother. There's nothing like exposing the true nature of your opponents and enemies than through torturing them yourself." It was then that their food arrived. Once her food was sat in front of her, Carasta began to dig in her own meal. Forking a succulent piece of meat and placing it in her mouth, Carasta relished the taste a bit before speaking again.

"Through his personal affects as well as his own testimony, the Overseer revealed that he was paid well worth his weight in gold and rare vintage wines to go against us." Said Carasta before drinking some water. "He even gave me a location before he died. I sent some men to the location and what they found was where things get even more interesting. They found a small cave filled with stolen goods for our house as well as a handful of elves bearing the mark of the Dreadwaters. The mark was hidden well, but closer examination of those we killed revealed them." Lokhir hummed at that. Much as it didn't seem much, Lokhir knew what this meant.

The Dreadwaters were still alive, and they were a threat to the prosperity and wellbeing of his family once again. What else could they be if they could afford to pay off an Overseer enough to betray a family as prestigious as the Fellhearts.

How the Dreadwaters managed to remain alive after his father's purge was something that befuddled him slightly, but it didn't matter in the grand scheme of things. The Dreadwaters were alive, and he will finish what his father failed to do. Eradicate them like the vermin they are. Even if they weren't a real credible threat to the Fellhearts, it was a manner of both principles and pride to kill them off. The Fellhearts earned a lot of their reputation by exterminating the Dreadwaters. To have them reappear will look poorly upon them and their allies, causing some to question their reputation and history if the Dreadwaters were still alive despite the Fellhearts' claim to the contrary.

"In that case, we must exterminate them, sister. No doubt they wish revenge upon us for the fall of their house." Said Lokhir, causing Carasta to nod in agreement. "Is there anything that can assist me in finding them and killing them, sister?"

"No, at least in the direct sense." Said Carasta before snapping her fingers and one of the guards brought forth a coin and a piece of paper. Lokhir inspected both and raised an eyebrow.

The coin was not like any design that Lokhir had seen throughout his entire life. It was made from bronze like some of the coins from the race of Men, but it was not of any design that he knew of. On one side it held the head of a man that Lokhir could care less about while the other depicted a ship sailing through a storm. At first, Lokhir thought it was an ancient coin, but examining it closer, Lokhir could see it was a relatively new coin judging by its wear and how shiny it was. He then looked at the piece of paper and saw that it was a letter. Taking it, he read the letter and he raised an eyebrow.

"Bosco?" Said Lokhir, having never heard of such a place before in his entire life. He then read the letter further and began to understand. "Ahh. I see. That is how the Dreadwaters escaped. They used magic to hide the survivors in some faraway country."

"Indeed." Said Carasta. "They must have had a few magic users amongst them when our father began his extermination of them. They must have taken a small cache of survivors of those with less importance than the leaders of the Dreadwaters and its nobles and used their magic to hide them so they can rebuild until they're ready to face us again."

"And because they've been attacking us as of late, they must be rebuilt enough to be a significant threat to our family, sister." Said Lokhir, causing Carasta to nod again. "Then our goal is clear. We must find the Dreadwaters and exterminate them before they could inflict more harm on our house. I presume this is all you can find?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Said Carasta. "Any information about Bosco and its location have either been destroyed or never been there at all. The Dreadwaters are being cautious it seems. However, we managed to capture a few alive and we're currently interrogating them. I was in the process of interrogating the leader when I heard of your imminent arrival." Lokhir hummed at that.

"Then I should expect additional information soon, yes?" Asked Lokhir. Carasta nodded at that.

"Indeed." Said Carasta. "However, if my methods of interrogation have proven insufficient in getting what we desire, I've sent word to our sisters in Ghrond to come back home. Perhaps a magical means is what is required for this situation." Lokhir nodded at that. Good. Having a sorceress for a sister had its benefits, especially when they're a part of a family whose loyalty is to their family first and foremost.

"Good." Said Lokhir. "In the meantime, I must ready my corsairs. They're quite eager to shed blood again, especially some of my officers." Carasta let loose a small laugh at that, amused.

"I have no doubt on that." Said Carasta. "Now let's eat our meals brother. They're starting to get cold." Lokhir nodded at that before he began to remove his helmet. Rarely did he remove his helmet, even when he was surrounded by loyal officers and crew, for it was a symbol of him and his family. Even when he needed to eat, he kept it on, preferring to bear the discomfort of wearing his helm in exchange for safety and the intimidation it brought him. However, around the family, Lokhir was willing to remove it. After all, he had no worries about Carasta or any of his family betraying him.

Lokhir gave took a deep breath once his helmet was completely off, enjoying the slight breeze that touched his pale skin before he began to feast on his food.

Meanwhile

Naestra and Arahan's home

"Do you think that Oxyotl is here to kill Diederick?" Asked Naestra as the two talked amongst each other in their personal room in their home. The two, along with their son, returned home after the Rune Knights were done interrogating them. Quickly as well as they needed to discuss the appearance of Oxyotl and what it entails. Arahan just scowled as she spoke.

"If that lizard wanted to do so, he would have done it while we were fighting against Phantom Lord." Said Arahan as she crossed her arms. "Which leaves the question of why he didn't do so in the first place." Naestra nodded in agreement as she tried to think up a reason for Oxyotl not killing their son.

They both knew of Oxyotl's reputation. The orange Skink was one that was merciless to all those affiliated with Chaos in even the slightest of margins. He even was merciless to those that weren't affiliated with Chaos at all. All because of the visions that the lizard received via unknown means that foretell him of Chaos incursion caused by certain individuals or groups. Stories were told by the Asrai of how Oxyotl stopped entire Chaos incursions by killing off seemingly insignificant individuals or groups. From Naggaroth to the distant lands of Cathay, the lizard traveled throughout the world to stop Chaos from getting stronger. So, why didn't he kill Diederick, the potential future 13th Everchosen of Chaos, when he killed others that weren't anywhere as important as a candidate for the next Everchosen.

"Did he receive a vision of what would happen if Diederick lived, but also a vision of what would happen if he was killed?" Asked Naestra, causing Arahan to hum.

"If so, why didn't he slay our child?" Asked Arahan. "He would not mind continually killing Everchosen candidates if he killed our child. So what stayed his hand?"

"Perhaps he saw a vision of Diederick becoming a champion of Order?" Suggested Naestra, thinking off the top of her head. It seemed the most likely of reasons for the mercy given to their son by Oxyotl. Arahan just scowled as she tried to think up another possible reason for the actions of the lizard.

"Perhaps, but what if it's something else, sister?" Asked Arahan. "That is what I'm afraid of."

"As do I." Said Naestra. "I fear until we know for certain why he spared our son, we have to be wary of Oxyotl."

"Agreed." Said Arahan before looking upon her bed and sitting on it. She then turned to her sister, who was sitting in a chair, before speaking again. "Should we tell Diederick about Oxyotl and the potential danger that he has towards him."

"Yes." Said Naestra. "And we should also tell the same to our guild as well. Oxyotl's revealed presence would no doubt spark rumors about him and a desire to seek him out. If only to thank him for helping us against Phantom." Arahan sighed at that.

"You realize that we may be forced to reveal where we originally came from as well, sister?" Asked Arahan. She no doubt knew that they would eventually be forced to reveal their true origins to their guild, especially as more and more of their old home revealed themselves in this world.

"Indeed." Said Naestra. "I had already planned to do so, sister. We have hidden things from them for too long. It's time to reveal our true origins. They deserve that after everything they did for us as well as how close we are to them. And…perhaps we need to also reveal why we came here in the first place." Arahan's eyes widen at that.

"Sister, I disagree on that." Argued Arahan. "The more that know about Diederick's true origins, the more likely it is that someone may try to kill him or even just bully him for his supposed destiny."

"Not our guild, sister." Said Naestra. "They love him and us. They would not dare to treat him differently when they know of his origins and the reason for our departure from our old home."

"I'm not talking about the guild." Said Arahan, knowing that her sister was correct. "But the people of Magnolia would. Diederick has no friends beyond that Daxter and the guild. He's made attempts, yes, but failed because of his affiliation with the guild. The people of Magnolia would distance him even further if they know the possible destiny that awaits him. And then there's the Dark Guilds and the rest of Fiore. You think they won't try to either kill him or use them for their own stupid ambitions?" Naestra stayed silent at that, realizing that her sister was right. Not only would their son be shunned by the wider world on account of his supposed destiny in destroying a world, but the Dark Guilds may try to recruit him or capture him for their own ends. Both of which will only cause him to turn to that supposed fate more. Realizing it would cause more harm than good, Naestra had to reluctantly agree with her sister.

"Very well, sister." Said Naestra. "Let us keep that a secret for now. Though I fear that we may be forced to reveal it in time." That caused Arahan to raise an eyebrow.

"What do you mean by that sister/" Asked Arahan, causing Naestra to look at her sister in sadness.

"Do you not think that the Forces of Chaos will not find a way here as well?" Asked Naestra. "If the Lizardmen were able to find a way here, what is stopping the Chaos Gods from arriving here as well?" Arahan pursed her lips when she realized that as well. And if they find their way here, what's to stop them from corrupting this world as they did their old home?

"Then we must help prepare for the coming darkness then, sister." Said Arahan. Naestra was about to agree when the two heard footsteps approaching their door. Realizing it was Diederick, the two halted their conversation and waited as Diederick entered their room after knocking and Naestra granted him permission to enter.

"Moms, Makarov just came along and asked me to pass a message to you two." Said Diederick. "He wants you two to be back at the Guild Hall tomorrow."

"Is it about the lizard?" Asked Arahan in her typical rude demeanor.

"Yeah. He believes you know about it." Said Diederick.

"We do." Said Naestra. "Very well. We'll prepare to visit the Guild in the morning." Diederick nodded at that and asked a question.

"So, that lizard. Is he a danger to us?" Asked Diederick. "To Fairy Tail?" That caused Naestra to sigh for she really didn't know and it was killing her that she didn't.

"That is something that even we don't know, sadly." Said Naestra. "But if he is a threat, we'll protect you and the others from him." Diederick smiled at that before leaving. Once he did and she was certain that he wouldn't overhear them, Naestra turned to Arahan. "Sister. I fear that we may also have to reveal his fate as well to him. We may have agreed to keep it from him for a time, but I'm afraid that the day we must reveal his possible, dark fate is rapidly approaching. Far sooner than I would like." Arahan sighed at that, knowing her sister was right.

Before they made their journey to this world, the two agreed to keep Diederick's fate as the next Everchosen a secret until he was ready. While they did tell him the truth about his birth and fate, they didn't tell him the full truth, choosing to omit the fact that his true father was a Daemon Prince and that he could potentially become one of the most destructive monsters in history should he become a pawn for the Chaos Gods. It was for his own sake. Being told that his birth parents didn't want him and that he would go down a dark path if the Sisters of Twilight hadn't intervened was already a lot for a child to take. Being told he would become a destroyer of an entire world would be too much with everything else.

"I know." Said Arahan as she crossed her arms. "I know. I just hope that, if the pawns of Chaos do arrive, they will not be the pawns of the Great Deceiver. I fear his followers would be the most dangerous to this world and our son." Naestra just nodded in agreement. Out of all the Chaos Gods, she feared the God of Magic the most. The Architect of Fate and the Changer of Ways, Tzeentch.

Meanwhile

Norsca

In the barren and danger-filled lands of Norsca, a young man was making a prayer in front of a shrine dedicated to the Changer of Ways made out of wood and scrap metal. On his knees and praying, the man was a poor example of a man born in the rough lands of Norsca.

Whereas most men born in the rough lands of Norsca were strong and healthy enough to endure the Chaos energies that flow throughout the lands of Norsca more freely than any other place in the world, this boy was weak and frail like the Men of the southern lands, except somehow weaker and frailer than even them. This caused the boy to be abused and belittled by his fellow tribesmen as he grew. It also didn't help that the man's twin brother, a man by the name of Thomin, was a perfect example of a strong Norscan. Strong enough to kill several Southern men with ease, good looking by the standards of the Norscan people, and was able to hunt down even the greatest of beasts in Norsca. In fact, because they're twins and Thomin being of great stock, the beatings were more severe than for other deformed men in Norsca.

The mother of the twins had died giving birth to them. The leaders of the mother's tribe thought that, because of this, the twins would both be strong and capable men that would help strengthen their tribe to glory. Instead only one of them was that capable and the other was just a runt, disappointing the tribe leaders. Thus, the beatings and jeering towards the boy.

As a result, the boy grew resentful of his tribe for hating and beating him because of things beyond his control. To make matters worse, his father did nothing to stop the violence against him, even when his own brother does it. Instead, the man humiliates his son by making him do the chores that his deceased mother used to do and forbidding him from picking up a sword ever, something that was seen as a right of passage for men in Norsca. To deny it was seen as the ultimate sign of contempt a father or tribe has towards a child. As a result, the man was forced to become an apprentice to the tribe's shaman when he became of age while his brother became a hunter. Through his apprenticeship, he found his affinity and attraction to the Chaos God Tzeentch. Although the boy was weak in how he can manipulate the Winds of Magic on account of the shaman's own limited knowledge of such practices, he learned enough from the shaman that the Chaos God of magic can give greater power to those that swear allegiance to him. Power that the man craved. Power that can enable him to gain vengeance on his tribe and family for their treatment of him.

Thus, he made a shrine to Tzeentch and since prayed every day to the Chaos God to grant his boon to him. Though each prayer ended in silence, the man kept trying for he had no other to turn to.

As the man prayed, he heard the sounds of heavy footsteps and so turned around to see his brother leering down at him, wearing the furs of the beasts that he had slain. Cruelly looking down on his brother, Thomin kicked the man down to the ground before speaking.

"Brother, how weak and foolish you must be to pray while the village is in celebration of our slaying of a mammoth." Said Thomin as he glared at his brother. His flowing mane of thick brown hair was a stark contrast to the thin, almost lifeless, brown hair of his brother. The man's, sickly blue eyes glared at his brother's healthy, causing Thomin to laugh. "Do not try to even fight me brother. Do so and I'll kill you without trying. Then father will be forced to find another servant to clean our home."

"You'll rue the day that you started to humiliate me, Thomin." Said the man. "I will become a great champion of Chaos. And I will bring the end of this village for all the misery they inflicted on me." That caused Thomin to laugh wholeheartedly.

"The Gods will not bestow any boon to a weakling such as you, Vilitch. They only desire strong warriors to be given boons. For they are not fools." Said Thomin as he smiled cruelly at his brother. "You will never be a champion for the Gods. You will be a servant boy. The lowest form of life in this tribe until the day you die, which may be soon after I'm done with you." With that Thomin began to beat upon his brother without mercy. So used to the beating that Vilitch didn't bother to beg, knowing it would do nothing. Something that Thomin held only a little respect for his brother, but not enough to halt his vicious beatings of his brother.

Five minutes later, Thomin was done and exited the tent he and his brother was in. He briefly considered thrashing his brother's shrine, but that quickly went away. To defile a shrine to one of the Chaos Gods, no matter how small and pitiful it was, is a sure way to invoke the wrath of the Gods. And Thomin dared not to invoke the wrath of such beings, especially the Changer of Ways, whose many punishments were varied and endless in their cruelty and insanity.

Vilitch, once his brother left, spat out some teeth and blood before looking at his shrine with swollen eyes. The beating his brother gave him was especially brutal today. He would be fine so long as the shaman tended to him, but the beating increased the hatred he had for his brother and his tribe. So much so that Vilitch made a plea to Tzeentch again.

"Tzeentch, I beg of you." Said Vilitch, barely able to speak on account of the beating. "Give me your boon and I'll serve you faithfully for the rest of my existence. I will slay your enemies and do whatever task you desire of me. All I ask is for you to make me the dominant twin and my brother the thrall as well as give me the power to eradicate this pitiful village from the face of Norsca and the world." With that, Vilitch's prayer ended, and he went to the shaman to be healed. Once the man left, the shrine glowed blue and the sounds of laughter can be heard throughout the village as Vilitch's prayer was answered.

Later that night, when the Chaos Moon, a celestial body made entirely out of crystalized chaotic energy called Warpstone, Morrslieb, in conjunction with the natural moon, Mannslieb, is shown in its full chaotic glory in a full moon cycle. With this, the veil between the physical and chaos realms waned and the powers of the followers of Chaos began to strengthen and mutations occurred more regularly than before. Thus, with the veil weakened, the Chaos Gods began to either plant the seeds of future incursions or enact plans years in the making. Tzeentch, in particular, was granting his boon to those that prayed to him since the last full moon cycle along with his typical actions during the full moon cycle. Though the god could have done so anytime he wished, it amused him the lengths that mortals would go to for his boon.

One of those was Vilitch. With a crazed bout of laughter, the Chaos God gave the runt the power he desired along with his wish and a few other gifts that will surely bring great amusement to the Chaos God.

The next day

The moment that Vilitch woke from his slumber, he instantly knew that something was amiss. His legs felt off. They felt stronger than they ever have been. Opening his eyes, he was in shock at what occurred.

His body, small and frail compared to his brother, was attached to the upper left shoulder of his brother. In fact, it was smaller in order to accommodate the new arrangement. Looking and inspecting his original body, Vilitch saw that his skin was paler than before, almost deathly so, and his eyes were gone, yet he could still see. Finally, his hair was gone. Replaced with black quill-like hair that was in mock reminiscent of his brother's flowing mane of hair.

Looking at his brother, Vilitch tried to wake him, only for him not to stir in the first place. Realizing this, Vilitch began to cautiously get up, despite having no legs anymore as they were fused to his brother's shoulder. To his surprise and growing delight, Vilitch found his brother's body moved when he desired it to move. Mentally ordering his brother's arms to move, they moved as he ordered them to. Finally, to see if this wasn't a dream, Vilitch slapped his brother with his thin and gaunt-like arms. To his delight, the man didn't respond. In fact, he didn't so much react to anything at all. All he did was stand and take whatever punishment Vilitch gave him.

Realizing that this was all real, Vilitch let out a howl of laughter and triumph. Tzeentch had granted his wish to him and now he was the dominant twin now. And now he had the power he desired to enact his revenge on his village.

Looking around, he found his brother's sword and had Thomin's body grab it and gave it to him. Though his arms were weak compared to his brother's, he still was able to lift it and swing it. Laughing in delight at finally holding a sword, Vilitch was almost too enthralled with it when he heard yelling.

"What is the name of the Gods is this!?" Yelled Vilitch's father when he saw what happened to his sons. Upon seeing his father, Vilitch gave a sadistic smile before having Thomin charge at their father. Tackling him to the ground and allowing Vilitch the opportunity to kill his father. While his father was struggling against Thomin, who was no more than simple automation to the will of his brother now, Vilitch raised Thomin's sword and stabbed his father in the heart with it, killing him. As life faded from his eyes, Vilitch gave his final words to his father.

"Thank you for everything father." Said Vilitch as he withdrew the sword from his father's body. "Now I can embrace my destiny as a champion of Tzeentch. Soon this village will endure my wrath for all that they've done to me and soon the southern realms as well for I am now a champion of the Architect of Fate!" Giving out maniacal laughter, Vilitch began to depart from the tent of his family and began to enact his revenge on his tribe. All the while, the Chaos God Tzeentch watched in delight as a new champion was made exactly as he intended for them to be. With his new champion ready and attacking his tribe with his newfound powers, Tzeentch decided to give him the last of his gifts. At least for now.

Thus with a small rift of his own design, a group of man-sized daemons flew out of it with their reptilian-like wings. These were Chaos Furies of Tzeentch. Furies of Chaos that owe allegiance to Tzeentch. Screeching, the daemons proceeded to move out of the way so that disc-shaped daemonic mounts flew out of the same rift. On top of them were armored-clad Chaos Warriors, all wielding spears or halberds on one hand with a massive shield on the other.

These were some of the fiercest of Tzeentch's Chaos Warriors. The fearsome Doom Knights. Chaos Knights that have managed to earn enough of Tzeentch's favor to earn the right to ride upon Discs of Tzeentch, demonic mounts that offer speed and maneuverability that surpass anything in the world. Coupled with the martial prowess of a Chaos Knight, the Doom Knights were some of the fiercest mounted knights in the world, only surpassed by the knights of Bretonnia.

With the last Doom Knight out of the rift, the forces of Tzeentch began to travel to Vilitch's village, eager to shed blood in the name of their god.