Dreams of Dawn

by Twilight Incubus

What if Malekith's journey to the realms of chaos went a bit differently after Finuval Plain? Before dying to the flames of Asuryan, he is granted a vision and an ultimatum by Asuryan himself. The god tells him that if he can pass through the six circles of seduction in Slaanesh's realm, then Malekith will be his champion. AU end times fic, Anti-hero Malekith. Full summary inside.

1. Chapter 1

Full Summary: What if Malekith took a little longer to cast himself into the realms of Chaos after Teclis reignites the Flames of Asuryan? The Witch King unable to extinguish them even there, decides to accept his fate and die…but in a strange twist of fate, the flames stop, and he is given a vision by Asuryan himself. The god gives him an ultimatum trial: If he can pass through the six circles of seduction in Slaanesh's realm without falling to temptation and retrieve his lost sword Avanuir from a herald named Shalaxi in Slaanesh's palace, then he will be given Asuryan's blessing like his father. Newly inspired, but alone, the Witch King must now fight his way through Slaanesh's realm and deal with an overly emotional N'kari and various other daemons along the way. AU End Times fic, Anti-hero Malekith. Maybe some halfway tasteful (minimally cringey) romance at some point too. If you're one of the people like me who was glad Malekith became king but hated the way it wasn't earned or didn't make sense in "canon", then this is the fic for you, my friend. While Malekith is the main character here, there will be lots of daemon, human, lizardmen, druchii, asur, and dwarven characters included as well. Don't expect Tyrion to go crazy. Don't expect that Mannfred von Carstein nonsense either...in fact just disregard the End Times lore altogether and enjoy this as an AU retelling.

A/N: So Shalaxi only exists in Age of Sigmar and 40k as an exalted keeper, but going off this AU timeline, Shalaxi is still just a beloved Herald of Slaanesh chilling in the Palace. S/he isn't really in Warhammer Fantasy canon, but for this fic, it is. I mean I figure it COULD make sense chronologically in canon since Shalaxi shows up in AOS. Shalaxi might ascend later in the story. I know this is possible even in canon because Ku'Gath used to be a Nurgling. N'kari is still the top KoS in this setting though. I try to be mostly faithful to the lore. Granted since this is AU, don't be surprised if I tweak a few details. My goal is to fix things I hated in canon and add some of my own ideas to the setting. I still intend on representing the characters with respectful canonical accuracy. Also, be sure to read my footnotes at the end of the chapter if you want more insight into what happened and why. There will be spoilers down there so don't read it until you finish the chapter (unless you want to make sure you like the direction before committing).

Chapter 1: Immortal Unbeloved

2302 IC Battle of Finuval Plain

Chaos and death were the only two words that could accurately describe the sheer carnage and desperate battle between the forces of the asur and the druchii. Thousands clashed all across the battlefield with hatred and vengeance fueling their efforts.

The asur fought with righteous zeal in defense of Ulthuan against their hated dark kin, but the druchii fought just as hard with even more zealous hate. Their millennia spanning civil war had only fostered into a ravenous rivalry that had no hope for peace until one side ultimately prevailed.

Reinforced by the armies of chaos-worshipping northmen, the druchii seemed to have the upper hand as they gained ground against the waning bulwark of the asur army. High above them all flew a massive and terrifying black dragon. It swooped down delivering a swathe of noxious breath on hordes of silverhelms and archers. Bolt throwers, archers, and every nearby mage did their best to snipe this beast from the sky, but their efforts almost seemed in vain as the black magics of its rider warded most of the attacks.

The rider was none other than the witch king himself…Malekith. The son of Aenarion…the dread king of the druchii…the traitor. His left hand crackled with black lightning as he ignited his attackers in a tempest of wicked dhar magic. Many perished, but the combined efforts of the nearby mages managed to negate the worst of it. Fireballs, lightning, and even bolts of piercing qhaysh followed in a counterattack.

Malekith almost seemed to effortlessly ground the spells as he hurled a purple black fireball into two of the mages. Both were far less experienced than they thought they were in comparison to the witch king's magic as they could do nothing to stop it.

Sickening flames of dhar erupted everywhere around them setting two mages and countless other surrounding troops on fire. Choking black fire then erupted through the ranks of the nearby troops. Most cried out in horrific death screams as a painful hexing spell followed freezing them in place and forcing them to burn. Before anyone could even retaliate, the black dragon swooped by and smashed an eagle claw bolt thrower. As it continued along the ground it also swiped through the mob of asur soldiers all while hacking out more noxious fumes.

The surviving mages and other desperate soldiers made almost suicidal charges towards the witch king with spears raised, arrows nocked, and spells charged. They soon found themselves frozen in agonizing pain as the witch king spoke a strange one worded spell. Screams and cries of torment drowned out the area as Malekith took flight again on his dragon.

His rampage continued unchallenged for a short while as the druchii advanced with eager bloodlust inspired by their fearless and hateful leader. Malekith's voice then projected loudly with magic in a chilling metallic tone, "Advance druchii! Slaughter them all!"

Many high elves looked like they were close to breaking as the majority of the army began to fall back. Not even their great champion Tyrion could do anything to stop the Witch King as his dragon flew overhead slaughtering the routing asur.

Despite Tyrion's successful victory against Urian Poisonblade, there was little he could do on the ground against a powerful sorcerer flying on a dragon. Nevertheless, the prince did his best to rally the nearby Asur as they charged back into the heart of the battle and hold the druchii army at bay.

Malekith felt utter disgust looking down at this child who dared to wear the armour of his own father, Aenarion. Their likeness was undeniable, but Malekith despised the very notion that these soft Asur would even dare to think that they understood his father's legacy or leech off of his glory. This descendant of Morelion was going to die today.

The disciplined asur leaders followed Tyrion's example and all tried to rally the terrified troops, but it wasn't until several great eagles and a dragon flew overhead to attack the witch king that they calmed down. Both Eagles had presumably a princess and a mage. An Asur Prince was on what seemed to be a moon dragon. They all moved fast to encircle Malekith in the sky. These fools would meet their doom for getting between him and the arrogant fool wearing Aenarion's armour.

His black dragon Seraphon howled with fury as she pulled a fast turn and charged the dragon first. While the two dragons scratched, clawed and bit one another midair, a powerful bolt of black lightning quickly dazed the moon dragon. Seraphon then bit into its neck causing the dragon's rider to almost fall off. Malekith wasted no time leaping onto the other dragon and swiftly beheading the prince riding it.

He then stabbed his sword Destroyer into the back of its neck before leaping back onto Seraphon and sending the other dragon to the ground. His dragon wasn't wholly uninjured from the exchange, but Malekith quickly mended her with his dark magic as Seraphon gained more distance from the two eagles. The princess rider was firing her bow from a safe distance while the mage rider tried to fire thunderbolts from lateral and overhead positions.

They seemed to learn from the mistake of the previous rider as they stayed close together and away from Seraphon.

Malekith knew what they were trying to do…they weren't aiming for him, but Seraphon. He was not about to let her suffer Sulekh's fate. Thinking fast, the witch king motioned for the massive black dragon to dive low. He exposed himself to asur missile fire in the process, but Seraphon weaved sporadically as she landed near another column of missile troops and bolt thrower artillery. Malekith chanted another dark incantation as he gathered the winds of magic overhead and crushed them into a devastating vortex spell.

Swirling blades of dhar materialized out of the magic as it began to shred asur in his vicinity. More spells came from the eagle-riding mage overhead, but it was quickly exposed to countless volleys from druchii bolts causing the beast the flail about. Seraphon seemed to understand Malekith's intention as she immediately took to the air again and charged the eagle as hard as possible.

Its rider went flying off in the process and the eagle could do little to stop Seraphon from mauling it and Malekith from electrocuting it with a powerful tempest of black lightning. It went spiraling out of control back to the battlefield right into a formation of black guard…exactly as Malekith intended. He briefly watched with apathy as his halberd wielding knights brutally stabbed and hacked at the wounded beast until it was dead. They had also been quick to finish off the wounded moon dragon further away.

The remaining eagle rider seemed too scared to attack as she kept her distance and tried to stay in range of archer and artillery support. Below her a vast formation of Asur began to charge into the druchii frontlines with newly invigorated courage. They were led by none other than Tyrion himself. It was clear that the young prince inspired courage simply by wearing Aenarion's armour, but his brutal savagery on the battlefield practically manifested among all his nearby allies.

Malekith couldn't deny that it reminded him of Aenarion in some ways as his own father had some kind of battle fervour that inspired his soldiers into a frenzy. Despite Tyrion being an Asur, there was no denying that he carried some measure of Khaine's bloodthirst in him.

The witch king chuckled wickedly at this sight of carnage as his hands lit up with black magic once more. Today was the day he would have his vengeance. The Asur in all their insufferable pride had no answer for what he was about to do.

The endless clashing of blades and whooshing of arrows and bolts almost seemed to slow down as everyone watched the witch king glowing in magical brightness with fearful anticipation. After muttering an unholy spell, his fell magics began to flood around the battlefield taking shape into what could only be described as portals.

These manifestations of magic then tore open the very fabric of reality causing daemons to start erupting onto the battlefield all around them. If the chaos marauders and the druchii weren't intimidating enough, the asur were now faced with a fresh horde of daemons swarming the front lines.

They were not daemons of any one particular chaos god, but all of them seemed to almost be bound to the Witch King's hateful will as they strode forth against the asur ignoring each other and druchii host further behind.

In the midst of this mayhem waves of reaper bolt throwers took their opportunity to snipe the eagle rider from the sky. The asur started fleeing in droves now as it became apparent that they were going to lose. Hope visibly waned in the eyes of the high elves as they could do nothing now but run away or fight to the last man. Many did.

Malekith seemed pleased with his actions despite the horror behind them. For someone who claimed to hate daemons, he certainly had no issue with unleashing them against Ulthuan. As Seraphon took flight once more Malekith reveled in the death screams of the smug Asur. Every single one of their deaths was a tiny drop of water to fill the gaping black hole of his wounded pride and heart. They deserved this…ALL OF THEM!

At least that's what he thought until he saw the elven princess who had been riding the remaining eagle was getting brutally assaulted by daemonettes. Malekith stared at the sight almost in horror for a brief moment of unexpected guilt. Despite the chaos and carnage all around the battlefield, that grisly sight disturbed him more than he cared to think about.

In a strange act of sympathy, he mercy killed the female elf with an overhead spell. It also killed the nearby daemons. For whatever reason, he felt regretful about doing this now. What would Aenarion say if he saw Malekith summoning daemons? Even as justified as he felt this war had been…was this crossing the line?

His sympathy and regret faded almost as quickly as they came as he focused back on the battle and mentally justified his actions. He swore that he would pay any price to claim his birthright, and by Asuryan, Khaine, and all the gods…he would have it.

As he prepared to spearhead the final charge, Malekith noticed something peculiar…a lone Asur mage stood below him as he started calling upon the winds of magic. In blinding flash of light, Hysh shot across the battlefield banishing daemons everywhere.

A burning bolt of Qhaysh followed. Malekith countered with his own magic, but much to his surprise, this mage was far superior to the previous ones he had killed today. Qhaysh and Dhar locked into a stream of black and white. A shrieking static sound deafened the screams of battle as sparks and bolts rained all around the battlefield between the two spellcasters. They remained deadlocked until Malekith decided to break it off and try something else.

The witch king maneuvered Seraphon to circle around and dive in closer as he sent in more spells. The following few minutes between the two of them was a magic duel for the ages as they each countered back and forth with a wide variety of spells that sundered the landscape and killed anything caught in its crossfire. Neither one gained an edge for quite a while until Seraphon was abruptly grounded with a powerful net of light. Roots then shot out of the ground and wrapped around her legs dragging the beast to the ground.

Malekith in this moment of concern for Seraphon turned his attention to the surrounding Asur on the ground who were moving in to attack her. 'I'm not losing another damn dragon!' he thought furiously as he battered them with as much magic as possible while burning away the roots binding Seraphon.

While this was happening the Asur mage had been holding his staff overhead and charging a powerful spell. Malekith wasn't able to react in time as the staff gathered up all of the nearby winds and channeled them into one supremely powerful bolt of piercing qhaysh. The flaming bolt hit Malekith with such extreme force that he was sent flying off of Seraphon.

Fortunately, the dragon herself was free now, but she could do little to help Malekith as he landed on the ground surrounded by Asur soldiers. With a powerful swing of his sword Destroyer, he sent a wave of purple black fire from the blade into the elves running for him nearby. His volatile magic forced them to retreat back as the Witch King stabbed the ground and sent out a wave of black ice in all directions.

He wasn't able to do much else though as he then felt a strange burning feeling all across his body. This spell that hit him was no ordinary curse. He knew this feeling…he remembered it all too well. While he always felt pain from his burns, this was different. It felt like he was in the Flame of Kings again.

"ARGHHHHH!" Malekith howled at the top of his lungs. The metallic echo of his voice seemed to alert everyone in the vicinity that he was in trouble. His dragon Seraphon was busy holding back the Asur behind him, but briefly turned her gaze towards Malekith as his Armour began to glow white hot.

The witch king could only watch with horror as white flames then erupted out of his armour and burned him. Not thinking clearly, and desperate to survive by any means necessary, he then charged the Asur mage despite being on fire. He had to slay this mage to stop his unusual spell from killing him. Roots quickly shot out of the ground again as the enemy Asur mage held him in place with Ghyran magic.

The pain was indescribable, and he was caught. Malekith couldn't even think clearly enough to fight his way out of this situation as he watched Asur rallying to charge at him. In a last-ditch effort to save himself, he tore open another chaos portal and flung himself inside. His body went flying into a strange landscape of chaotic entropy before smashing into fleshy ground like a meteor.

While this might have normally killed anyone else through blunt trauma, Malekith's magical armour and the strange composition of the landscape seemed to spare him instant death. The flames didn't go out though unfortunately.

He writhed and howled in desperation as the flames of Asuryan almost seemed to burn his soul itself. This continued until he eventually lost all sense of reality. In his final moments of waking despair, he seemed to realize the inevitable truth…he was going to die. At least the insufferable Asur wouldn't get the satisfaction of getting his corpse or watching him die…that was the only thing he could think of as he finally just gave up and waited for the flames to kill him.

Strangely however, his acceptance of this is what finally caused the pain to stop. He then felt his consciousness fading due to the strange and sudden absence of pain.

"The flames stopped?" he said hazily as he felt his vision darkening.

"I need to stay awake," Malekith said aloud between swaying words before collapsing into complete unconsciousness.

Malekith's dream

Jerking upright as if he had just awoken from a terrible nightmare, Malekith looked around with desperation and fear. His mood immediately lightened when he found himself in a very peculiar looking area. It looked like the Shrine of Asuryan. In fact, he could even see the Flame of Kings right in front of him. How did he get here of all places? In some ways this felt like another dream…or nightmare rather. Part of him wondered if he was actually dead now.

Standing upright he glanced over his body and the Armour of Midnight for any visible signs of burns. He saw none…in fact the pain was completely gone as well. Even the constant dull pain he usually felt was absent. It seemed to allow his mind some amount of clarity as he could actually think clearly without the typical emotions and paranoia clouding his thoughts.

Malekith felt a wave of relief and lucidity wash over him as he calmed down and spoke aloud to himself, "Was that a nightmare? Did I die? What am I doing here?"

There was no visible clue as to how he got to the heart of Ulthuan or even if the battle he was just in had ever happened at all. Malekith thought about leaving the area, but something about the bluish white Flame of Kings compelled him to stay.

He stepped towards it almost absent-mindedly before reliving a vision of the first time he stepped into it and was burned. The vision was difficult to watch, but him seeing it from an outside perspective was quite disturbing to say the least. He had almost forgotten how he used to look in the flesh. After the vision was over, Malekith felt his attention snap back to the current moment. For some unknown reason he was uncomfortably close to the flames now. It was as if they were calling for him to enter.

Malekith stopped himself as he stared briefly into them once again. He then spoke with distant melancholy of his past, "Was it really worth it, I wonder? Was I wrong to do it? If I had known then what would come to pass…would I have stepped into the flames? I thought you would judge me worthy Asuryan…for being strong like my father. For having to strength to do what the feeble princes of Ulthuan could not. I was willing to do anything to make the elves prosper. I'd sacrifice anything for the greater good of this world and you punished me for it. In the end, you're just as weak and spineless as them. It's repulsive to think I sacrificed everything only to be rejected by the petty whims of some vain and fickle god! I haven't eaten in five thousand years! I've forgotten the taste of food, the feeling of another's skin, and I can't even remember what Allisara looked like! All I can see are the smug faces of the Asur laughing as I burn! They would hide in Ulthuan giving worthless speeches about tradition and wisdom while the world burns around them! I alone had the strength to carry on Aenarion's legacy and now you endow it to some petulant brats who don't know the first thing about SACRIFICE! What makes them worthy of Aenarion's legacy over me?! Am I not the true heir?! What makes me unworthy compared to all of your false phoenix kings?! Answer me!"

He paused his ranting as he stared at the flames seething with hatred. What was he expecting by saying all of this? He learned millennia ago that life was unfair and that some people are born lucky. Others are simply lucky to be born. Was that how Asuryan saw him he wondered briefly as he shook his head in disgust. In many ways, he knew the current state of his life was mostly his own fault…but he felt like his entire existence had been a joke to the gods. It felt like complete waste, but he was too proud to give up and only spiraled further into humiliation and cruelty the more he struggled against his unjust fate. All his life, he had aspired to achieve his destiny…to be as his father was. Yet all his life he had been rejected and denied by everyone around him.

Why did this damn god consider him so unworthy in comparison to all the phoenix kings after Aenarion? How could Asuryan deign to bless the descendants of Morelion as the heirs of Aenarion over him? How could someone as weak and useless as Morvael have had the honour of being Asuryan's phoenix king?! At least Bel'Shanaar had been a proven commander in the war against chaos. Malekith shook his head in disbelief at the situation. He served faithfully under Bel'Shanaar for centuries…he took the high road. He fought evil amongst the colonies and served as a great general for Ulthuan and a great emissary. He battled greenskins, beastmen, and other monsters while the nobility frolicked about in peace. Even their current generation knew nothing of the hardships he endured to protect the elven kingdom prior to the sundering. None since then have ever matched his contributions and yet Asuryan found him unworthy. He felt as if all elves did…even a large portion of the druchii.

"I curse you Asuryan…you and all the gods! Your silence speaks volumes of your cowardice and petulance!" the witch king spat with contempt.

All he wanted now was answers, but it was pointless to expect them at this point. Obviously, Malekith was never going to get his answers since Asuryan didn't speak to mortals. The Witch King stared at the flames again for a long moment of reflection.

What was the point of doing this anymore? Why did he even want to be king now? The druchii were untrustworthy and most probably sought to undermine his rule; his mother included. All asur obviously hated him, and how could he ever hold the throne without Asuryan's blessing?

In the past he felt that the world deserved to burn if he couldn't have his birthright, but now…he just felt tired and defeated. Every waking second of his miserable life was suffered in vain and the gods would rather play favorites with undeserving fools than be pragmatic and honour those with true merit. None of it mattered now. He would never be king, and the world was doomed regardless. He hated the druchii and the asur. He hated the gods, he hated his own mother, and he even hated himself.

This damning revelation and the true understanding that he would never be king put things clearly into perspective for him. All of this was pointless, and he didn't have to suffer anymore. His life was some kind of running joke for the gods to laugh at. Well, the joke was about to be over whether they liked it or not. He was done being some jester for the gods' amusement. He'd rather be dead than spend another day suffering in pain to achieve the legacy he was denied. The world could burn…and he would find his solace in death. Perhaps the pale queen would show more mercy on him than anyone else had in his life.

For whatever reason, the thought of suicide almost seemed comforting to him now. Being as strong-willed as he was, Malekith had never once considered it before, but there was a calming acceptance in the thought now. The flames would either erase his soul or it would be claimed by the pale queen, Ereth Khial.

"Hehehehe," Malekith started laughing almost jovially, "If this is your idea of rubbing it in my face, then I don't care anymore. You can die with your pitiful favorites when this world ends. Enjoy your last laugh at my expense, Asuryan. I will die happily knowing that none of your worthless phoenix kings can save the elves."

In a strange moment of suicidal madness, Malekith decided to just step into the flames again. He made sure to go deep inside and closed his eyes as he awaited the burning pain. As if he was reliving it the first time again, Malekith felt his body burning in agony beyond description. Part of him was coherent enough to realize he was acting crazy and that he should leave the flame of kings before actually killing himself. This time however, he willed himself to stay inside as he screamed in indescribable torment. In some ways this could be considered giving up, but to him it was also a final act of spite and pride.

The flames seemed to drift away from him as he howled and writhed in agony. He felt his willpower slipping. Everything in him wanted to leave the flames and it looked as if they were giving him the option to leave for some reason. Despite this however, Malekith refused to leave. If he was going to die, then he wasn't going to die a coward. He wasn't going to give Asuryan the satisfaction of humiliating him ever again. He was a lot of terrible things, but he wasn't weak-willed or a coward. He had the strength to do this unlike the false phoenix kings…and he decided to take solace in this final act of defiance against Asuryan's lifelong rejection.

"ARGHHHH! Just kill me already, Asuryan! It's what you want, isn't it?! Unlike your false kings, I'm not afraid to die here!" Malekith howled as he hurled himself deeper into the heart of the fire. His piercing screams of pain were deafening as he could no longer even hear anymore.

It seemed like the god was actually listening to him as the flames erupted all around the chamber and engulfed Malekith's entire body. He watched his armour melt and his skin smolder and burn into ashes. He didn't see this long though as his eyes went blind and he finally "died".

In a surreal moment of lifelessness, he felt his body's ethereal form floating from the ashes of what was once his body. It was then that he saw what could only be described as Asuryan himself.

The figure was adorned in a radiant white, silver, and gold robe with a winged crown of diamonds and phoenix feathers. His face was obscured by a mask with half being white and the other half black. His back also had two massive wings that looked like they belonged to a phoenix. He almost seemed to appear before Malekith through some type of window into higher realm as the witch king could see a magnificent diamond pyramid beyond description in the background.

He had heard tales about Asuryan's pyramid, and what he saw matched all descriptions of it. This was the closest thing to a 'heaven' that he could ever picture and he felt simultaneous awe and dread from the mere sight of it. Even more so by the presence of his father's god floating before him. Was this truly Asuryan? The god who never spoke to mortals. He could barely believe that Asuryan would actually appear before him after the rant he just gave. It was difficult to discern any further details about the god as a blinding light made it almost impossible to see.

The god stared at him stoically as he spoke with a divine tone, "It would seem you're still salvageable."

"Salvageable?" Malekith asked confused, "am I dead? Are you Asuryan?"

"You're not completely dead…yet," Asuryan replied callously without answering his other obvious question.

"Why not? Don't you despise me? Also, I was under the impression you never spoke to mortals. You're actually willing to speak with me now?! Why?!" Malekith spat with contempt.

Asuryan sighed at his outburst, "I am disappointed in you, but my personal feelings are irrelevant in the grand scheme of this meeting. You demanded answers, and I will give them to you, Malekith. You are not on the mortal plane and so I can speak to you here. As for your other question…direct action is not always the best solution. Killing you achieves nothing. It is a far greater victory to make another see through your eyes than to close theirs forever. I would encourage you to learn that. Everyone has their uses, and you have a unique one worth salvaging. It is why I have granted you this audience even despite your blatant disrespect."

"So, you don't even care than I waged war on the Asur? You don't want revenge against me? What's the point of speaking to me now?" Malekith asked confused.

"A culture's teachings, and most importantly, the nature of its people achieve definition in conflict. They find themselves or they find themselves lacking. Despite the obvious selfishness of your cause, I acknowledge that what you believed and aspired for initially was justified. Despite what you may think, I do consider the modern-day elves quite weak and archaically stubborn. Even the dwarves have been willing to change with the times. The elves…druchii, asrai, and asur are stuck in their extremist ways of thinking. You would be wrong to assume that I look upon the Asur with unwavering favor. I don't see the Asur ideals as any more justified than the druchii's and yours. To believe in an ideal is to be willing to betray it. That is something no Asur, Druchii, or Asrai has ever truly learned…save Aenarion. In truth I believe there should be balance between you all. Why else do you think I tolerate the existence of the Cytharai and Khaine's madness? They have their uses as do the Cadai. Aenarion learned that the day he drew the Widowmaker. He was a warmongering tyrant and a selfless hero simultaneously. His legendary status wasn't truly earned until he sacrificed his life to save the world. Before then, he was hated for doing what he had to do for the greater good of others. That is what it means to walk his path. It is something you do not fully understand. If you are truly to understand, then you will need to accept the contrast, and surrender adherence to a singular idea or stubborn justifications. Your war against Ulthuan is not why I doubt you, Malekith. It is because you have fallen this far and learned nothing. That is your greatest failing in my eyes." Asuryan explained with cryptic wisdom.

"I…don't understand. You dislike the Asur ideals? They revere you. They base their entire lives off of your standards," Malekith seemed confused by the god's logic.

"Not in the way you think. All elves are too proud to change or to sully their names for greater purposes beyond their own pride and glory…yourself included. The Asur are noble, but there is a weakness and arrogance in their teachings that I consider almost as detrimental as the twisted and hedonistic lifestyle of the druchii. If it does not change then they will not survive. The elves are dying, Malekith. It has been a slow death that has lasted millennia, but the coming doom is upon them. You were right about that. Their current king Finubar also understands this and has been working to carry out my will and enact change, but he lacks personal might and charisma. He could never influence the druchii or the Asrai. Even the young Prince Tyrion who emulates Aenarion could never unite the elves as he is driven by hatred and pride...not wisdom or sacrifice. He is less likely to change than you are." Asuryan answered.

"So, what happens now? What do you hope to gain by telling me all of this? I doubt you want me to be phoenix king considering what you did to me before the sundering." Malekith trailed off deep in bitter thought.

"You feel spurned and understandably so, but your civil war against Ulthuan has to end one way or another. Whether that be by your victory, your death, or by giving up the thing you desire most for the greater good of the world. Unlike the others, you alone possess the influence to unite the elves. That is your inherent value to me and to the world. I have given you the opportunity to test your resolve once again and you have passed the first trial. It would seem you are willful enough to die in the flames this time. You share Aenarion's tolerance for pain and his willpower at the very least. Unfortunately, you lack his foresight, his empathy, and his purpose. I doubt that you would sacrifice your life for others. That is why I am hesitant to trust you as I trusted him. I have watched you for all the years of your miserable life, Malekith. You are entitled, spiteful, and you have always lacked a true reason for wanting the crown. Your mother always seemed to care about it more than you did. In fact, I would consider her the main reason why ended up this way. I'm curious to know, son of Aenarion…what makes you worthy to be phoenix king? Why do you crave it so much? Answer me honestly…I already know the truth, but I want you to acknowledge it yourself," Asuryan spoke calmly.

"It was my birthright…my destiny to carry on my father's legacy. It was stolen from me by the scheming princes of Ulthuan. I journeyed across the world battling evil while Bel'Shanaar sat comfortable on my father's throne! I did the right thing despite the obvious contempt the other princes and princesses had for me! They spat upon Nagarythe after all the sacrifices my people made in the war against chaos. I am not just some product of nepotism! Everything I am is an aspiration to the glory of my father and to Anlec! He always told me about how important it was to keep Ulthuan strong and to make hard decisions that others wouldn't. The other Asur princes were cowards who thought to overlook our kingdom's sacrifices the moment conflict ended. I find it disgusting that the Asur celebrate Aenarion now, but they did not while he was alive! They didn't know Aenarion the way I did. They didn't walk the same ground as him and breathe the same air. They didn't stand at his side and fight daemons wondering if the world was going to end if they failed to hold the line. This current generation doesn't deserve Ulthuan. It only survived because of my people's blood." Malekith answered resoundingly.

"That is the surface reason for why you desire kingship. Now tell me the real reason…" Asuryan replied unfazed.

Even despite him not being able to see Asuryan's face or eyes, Malekith could feel as if the god could see through his very soul. He was hesitant to speak his true feelings, but it seemed pointless to withhold them now.

"Many elves idolized and respected my father…even despite his brutal and cruel insanity. I remember the way soldiers used to look at him...as if he was a god himself. His name meant something...and his life meant something. Even in death, his name lives on as the greatest elf to ever walk the face of this world. I always wanted to be just like my father, but expectations are often far removed from reality. Very few liked me then and I doubt any do now. I wanted some justification for my existence. The Asur have always considered me a royal bastard and my mother has only ever seen me as a tool for her own ambitions. I don't even know if Aenarion himself cared about me the way he did for his original family. Perhaps to him I was little more than a byproduct of a bad mistake, but I'm nothing without being my father's son. I suppose that's what you think of me too…an undeserving bastard son who deserved to burn for daring to step above the station his spiteful peers trapped him in. Just like my father, the Asur only loved their supposed 'true heirs' Yvraine and Morelion. They love all of the subsequent false phoenix kings…despite their many weaknesses and massive failings. Perhaps you could call it envy, hatred, or even despair…but after all these years, it's all I have left. I burned for that throne…I endured hell and misery…humiliation…all for the sake of achieving the one thing that would have made it all worth it. It's not like I can enjoy a normal life ever again thanks to being trapped in this armour! I had nothing else to live for! Was I wrong for not believing that the world would have been better had I not been born?! Was I wrong for aspiring to make my father proud?!" Malekith said somewhat remorsefully in honest admission.

He couldn't believe that he'd ever even humor such depressing and embarrassing thoughts aloud, but he felt compelled to obey Asuryan for some reason. It was as if the god's mere presence brought an unfiltered clarity to him that had long been missing.

"If you could do it over again…what would you do differently?" Asuryan asked deeply.

"I'd start by never worshipping the gods…it's clear what a waste of time that was. I probably would have married in Ulthuan instead of the colonies. I would have had a stronger political standing before the Sundering if I did. I'd certainly never step into the flames knowing what you'd do to me. Of course, I also would have distanced myself from my mother right after she finished teaching me magic," Malekith answered honestly.

"Would you still kill Bel'Shanaar?" Asuryan asked almost knowingly.

Malekith nodded, "Most likely at some point, yes. Though someone was bound to do it sooner or later considering how feeble and incompetent he looked near the end. He would not have been strong enough to keep the elven empire from collapsing even if I didn't start my war for the throne."

"Yet you and your mother were the ultimate catalyst for its collapse, Malekith. You could have helped him instead of Morathi. A tragic twist of fate to be sure. Even more so considering that Bel'Shanaar thought as you did, and he trusted that you would help him. I doubt you'll believe me when I say this, but it was his wish for you to be his successor. He spent the last century of his life trying to convince other princes to accept it. Your fame in the colonies and your political connections with the dwarves were well regarded among the court and Bel'Shanaar believed your quelling of the cultist uprisings would prove you worthy to the other princes of Ulthuan. He believed that dark times were ahead and that Ulthuan needed a ruler like you if he were to perish. An irony that he died by your hand…is it not?" Asuryan followed up.

Malekith felt stunned by the mere thought of something so preposterous. Under normal circumstances, he would never even humor such an outlandish possibility. However, to hear it from Asuryan himself was a different matter.

That didn't stop him from shaking his head in rejection at the thought, "No he did not! I refuse to believe that. They looked down on me…all of them! Do you think I didn't hear what they said about the Curse of Khaine or about my ineptitude for anything other than war and sorcery?! The way that court looked at me whenever I visited Ulthuan…I can remember it as if it were yesterday! They never intended to crown me! They feared and despised me!"

"While they did fear the curse of your bloodline, it was never you they truly doubted…it was Morathi and her obvious ambitions. You were barely an adult when your father died. They did not trust you to rule Ulthuan while your mother had such strong influence over you. They saw crowning you as empowering her, and they felt you would taint the Everqueen's bloodline with your mother's lowborn impurity if you married your half-sister Yvraine. That is the truth, Malekith. Bel'Shanaar was actually one of the princes who initially advocated for you to succeed Aenarion." Asuryan explained rationally.

The witch king went quiet as he reflected on the god's words. In some ways it almost seemed believable now. Accepting this truth was painful though. It forced Malekith to take accountability that what he did was unjustified. Part of him could even empathize with the idea that the princes of Ulthuan did not trust him with his mother in his ear. He had seen firsthand over the millennia just how much of a wicked mastermind his mother truly was. The mystery of her origin prior to meeting his father was still an enigma to him, and Morathi was the pioneering first sorceress to create Dhar or dark magic.

From what he understood, Morathi was rescued from chaos cultists by his father. It seemed possible that she might have been one herself considering all he knew about her now. The possibility of Bel'Shanaar wanting him to be king was still hard to believe, but Malekith felt guilt sinking into his chest at the thought of what could have been.

"Why did I even have to marry the Everqueen at all to be Phoenix King? That tradition only existed because my father was married to the Everqueen. I felt like they simply insisted on it just because they knew I wouldn't be able to marry my sister," Malekith followed up.

"There is some truth to what you say considering that the union of the Everqueen and Phoenix King is purely ceremonial now. Your blood relation to Yvraine was irrelevant to them in the grand scheme though. As I said before…you feel spurned and understandably so, but the throne would have been yours eventually had you not allowed others to manipulate you and ruin your life. While you aren't solely to blame, you chose this path, and you are responsible for your own suffering." The god stated sternly.

"Is that why you burned me then? Why did you not tell me about any of this before I ruined my life? What's your justification for that?!" Malekith asked with a slight amount of depressing desperation in his voice.

"Would you have listened to me even if I did? You were hardly moral or sound of mind prior to the Sundering. Do you know why Aenarion received my blessing?" Asuryan asked sternly after a long silence.

"If I knew that, don't you think I would have aspired for it?! I was willing to make the same sacrifice he did! To be the bulwark against chaos!" Malekith countered aggressively.

"A hollow statement coming from someone who would summon daemons to fight his fellow elves. You sought to follow this path out of vanity…that you alone were destined to be the hero of this world. When you were denied, you thought to destroy the vortex out of spite. Is that what your father would want? Do you think he would be proud of you…of the fiend you have become?" Asuryan countered.

Malekith had no idea how to respond as he bitterly seethed in reflection. What would Aenarion say about all of this?

"Aenarion probably wishes I was never born, as do all the elves, but I am as he raised me. If he wished I were more like the soft elves of inner Ulthuan, then perhaps he shouldn't have made me fight daemons in his armies when I was an adolescent. I suppose I don't care what he thinks now…he's dead and I'll never see him again," Malekith finally managed to reply.

"I believe he would be stricken with grief that his son betrayed Ulthuan to the monsters he sacrificed his own sanity, life, and soul to repel. Has it ever occurred to you that the path you chose was designed by the chaos gods to get revenge against Aenarion and Caledor…and that you possess traits all of them can and have exploited. You are prideful beyond measure, you have a burning hatred and bloodthirst, you feel despair at the loss of your supposed destiny, and you scheme endlessly for power. All of these traits are well known to the chaos gods, and they circle you like vultures. I could never bestow my blessing upon one so easily influenced by these dark powers. You knew your mother was spreading cults and you did not stop it or bring her to justice. You used it as an opportunity to seize power…exactly as they intended. You deceived yourself into believing that you were doing the right thing, and the chaos gods were all too happy to 'help' you sunder Ulthuan just as the humans who helped you attack it recently. The chaos gods sought to use you as their tool to destroy the elves…and I would say they've mostly succeeded." Asuryan sighed in disappointment.

"Say what you will, but I hate chaos! Those northmen and daemons were just tools at my disposal. I know I'm not perfect, but what made these other phoenix kings so worthy then?! What made Bel'Shanaar, Tethlis, Caledor, Aethis, Morvael, or even this Finubar so worthy? Why did you bless them?!" Malekith demanded angrily.

"They were chosen by their peers…not by me. They may be phoenix kings in name, but none of them have ever received my actual blessing save Aenarion himself. They don't understand the flame of kings and they fear it after seeing what it did to you. They pass into the flame of kings with the aid of magic, and they receive some measure of its divine power…and visions from me to guide them. However, for one to truly be a phoenix king, one must die in the flames and be reborn a phoenix. One must become the Avatar of Asuryan and wield my power in the mortal plane. For all your flaws, you've proven just now that you at least have the courage and willpower to finally die in the flames. You've shown that you're willing to sacrifice yourself to get my attention, but that was out of spite and not altruism. I would see you tested truly. The chaos gods feared Aenarion's might because he had one thing you lacked…one thing that kept him humble even despite his great power and status. Think Malekith…why did your father sacrifice himself in the flame of kings? Why did he die during the creation of the vortex?" Asuryan responded with a calm rhetorical tone.

"I suppose it's because he loved Ulthuan? He sought to avenge Astarielle's death?" Malekith said uncertainly.

"Love is the correct answer. It is what drives one to altruism and sacrifice. Your father was tyrannical and violent, but there was love in his heart for those other than himself. He truly gave up everything to protect the elves. Everything he did was for others…not himself. He sacrificed his own life in the flames just so that I would intervene. Can you honestly say you love anyone? Do you even love yourself?" Asuryan followed.

Malekith shook his head, "No…but how could I when I have never known it?"

"Therein lies the problem. Despite what you may think, there have been many who loved you prior to your descent into madness. Your wife Allisara…your best friend Snorri Whitebeard…even Bel'Shanaar considered you a trusted friend. Think of your lieutenant Alandrian…or even the elves willing to betray Ulthuan all in your name. Perhaps this current generation only sees you as their immortal unbeloved tyrant, but the elves that followed you down this path initially believed in your cause. Even some today like Kouran Darkhand still do. Love is when you're willing to sacrifice yourself for another." Asuryan noted.

"Those elves only followed me because I was Aenarion's son. Allisara abandoned me when our marriage became inconvenient for her, Alandrian was crucified, and Snorri…" Malekith paused as he couldn't find the words to express the strange emotions that the dwarven king's name evoked in him, "he's long dead and long forgotten."

"Do you wish to know why Allisara left you?" Asuryan asked slowly.

"I know why she left! She wanted no part of my war with Ulthuan. I suppose she had a vision from Lileath that I would become…this! She wouldn't sacrifice anything for me! Marrying her was a mistake! I always knew it would end poorly." Malekith spat bitterly.

"Allisara was pregnant." Asuryan responded with a regal calmness.

Once again, Malekith was truly speechless and at a loss for words. His mind couldn't even comprehend such an impossible idea.

"She was?" Malekith could barely force the words out.

"It is why she avoided you after you found the Circlet of Iron," Asuryan added.

"Did she have this child? Was I its father?" Malekith asked.

"Yes, on both accounts," Asuryan nodded.

Malekith felt exteremely interested in this information as he spoke anxiously, "Was it male or female? Are they even still alive? What was the child's name and where are they?!"

"That is something you should ask Allisara's sister, Ariel, but they still live." Asuryan refused to answer him directly.

"So, it's in Athel Loren? That would explain why they could survive all of these millennia. Time flows differently in that forest I hear. Some of that court is almost as old as I am. One of them is my heir?!" Malekith deduced logically.

"I only tell you this to grant you more insight into those once close to you, and to disprove your self-pitying misconceptions of being unbeloved. Allisara did not want to endanger your offspring knowing of the war you were about to start. She was afraid of what your mother might do to her children as well. Her fears were quite justified considering that Morathi killed her when she attempted to return to you. It is the same reason Ariel guards this secret from everyone. When Allisara chose to return to you, she had hoped that telling you the truth would bring you back to your senses. That it might prove that she still loved you. In the end she died trying to save you. She suffered a tragic fate at Morathi's hand. Her death destroyed the last shred of empathy you had...exactly as Morathi wanted. You should know that your mother was smiling when you pardoned her for this act," the phoenix god moved the conversation along.

"WHAT?!" Malekith hissed hatefully.

"Morathi always despised your wife. Your mother desired sole influence over you and sought to push away those who cared for you. It is why she poisoned your mind into thinking your friends and lovers weren't trustworthy and that she alone was the only one who cared for you. She even killed one of her handmaidens for desiring you long ago. She is possessively jealous of anyone who can influence you more than she can. It's why she was cruel to Hellebron...because you considered her beautiful. I believe Morathi thinks she loves you Malekith...but she only sees you as an extension of herself and Aenarion. If you take anything from this conversation, then at the very least reconsider who truly has your best interests at heart. I do not think Morathi ever has. I believe she sees you as a trophy. Remember this though...you're the royal one, not her. She seeks to vicariously obtain status through you. She is only as powerful and influential as you allow her to be," Asuryan elaborated.

"Maybe you're right...but I have other questions. What about my vision of the end of the world though?" Malekith changed the subject as he tried not to think about Morathi's twisted motives or focus too much on the shocking revelation that he had sired an unknown heir. He was quick to realize how pointless it would be to press for details on that matter.

"Who do you think gave you that vision? The chaos gods. I believe it was Tzeentch specifically. They derive amusement in making mortals the architects of their own corrupted fates. They showed you a real vision of the future without any context. Tzeentch in particular is a master of creating self-fulfilling prophecies. You acted precisely as he intended." Asuryan sighed in disappointment and Malekith's lack of understanding.

Malekith seethed with disgust at the thought, "You said that already and I find it difficult to believe. You're implying I've been playing their game all along?! That I was just the outlet for their revenge against my father?!"

"You always have been. You curse the gods, but the elven pantheon hasn't been the one laughing at your expense. Not even Loec. It is the chaos gods…the true enemy of this world. How easily you've danced to their tune while believing yourself above their devious machinations. Like your mother, you believe you can use chaos to your own ends. Your hubris blinds you to their great game. Even if you are a king on this chess board, they are the hands moving its pieces. No mortal is safe, no matter how strong-willed, from the corrupting powers of these eldritch horrors. They twist you into a mockery of everything you once believed in. They allow you to think that you are using them and not the other way around. Such is the nature of the chaos gods. I have seen them corrupt countless mortals...especially those most opposed to them. Even your mother once had good intentions long ago...and now all she desires is divinity. It is a quiet thing to fall…but far more terrible is to admit it. Will you I wonder?" Asuryan stated callously.

"If this is true then why didn't you intervene?! You're a god, aren't you?! How could you let this happen to me?! How could any of the gods have let this occur? None of you could have warned me, somehow?! You still haven't given me an answer for that! Sure, I was headstrong, but I would have listened to you!" Malekith demanded.

Asuryan looked away now and answered solemnly, "You did receive warnings, but the elven pantheon is limited in its dealing with the mortal plane. Nevertheless, what's done is done. You cannot change the past, but you can learn from this for the future. Even my intervention and these answers will not be enough to change your fate. You must choose it for yourself. Perhaps it is out of pity, guilt, or some measure of respect, but I offer you a final opportunity to be spared this fate Malekith. My visions show that you have the potential to unite the elves. We shall see…just know that it is a lonely, thankless path, and it will likely end in your demise no matter what you decide. It is a sacrifice...not a path to glory or redemption."

"So, I am at your mercy then?" he asked somewhat bitterly.

"I won't force you to do anything. I only offer you the option to help the elves as your father did. It is rarely my place to intervene in these matters, but I felt you at least deserved answers and a choice. Either return to Naggaroth and continue your campaign to end this civil war or accept my test and prove that you have the strength to be the Avatar of Asuryan. You are currently in the Realms of Chaos. I would have you witness them in their full horror and prove yourself worthy. Prove you have the strength to sacrifice your own desires for others. Succeed and you will have my blessing. Succeed and I will give you the power to help the world," Asuryan stated sternly.

"What are you implying? Even after all of this and everything you've said…I could still be phoenix king?" Malekith asked incredulously.

Asuryan almost seemed to scoff at him, "If the Asur so choose…but ultimately that title is irrelevant and hollow. The real power of a phoenix king comes from being my avatar. I offer you the choice to be as Aenarion truly was…and do what others can't or won't. The crown is irrelevant. The throne is irrelevant. These things won't make you like Aenarion. Your actions to come will. If you prove worthy, then I promise you my blessing and penance in the eyes of the Cadai. Expect nothing more and nothing less…especially from your fellow elves."

"I suppose that's reasonable enough to expect. Since I have this opportunity to ask, I wanted to know…who do you consider the true heir of Aenarion? Me or this Tyrion?" Malekith couldn't help but ask the god.

"You're both true heirs, but only one of you is the lawful heir. Tyrion's line is descendant from your brother Morelion. He was the first son…which would make him the lawful heir under normal circumstances. However, Morelion renounced his titles to become Yvraine's defender which made you the lawful heir as you also maintained the seat of House Tinuron in Anlec. Your father chose you to succeed him as well. By the laws of the Asur and in my eyes, you are the lawful heir of Aenarion…for better or worse. However, do not mistake this truth for justification, Malekith. You will never be acknowledged as such unless you prove yourself the champion of Asuryan and all elves. But I have indulged your questions long enough. Your time here wanes and I will have to return you to your body soon. Are you prepared to hear of my test?" Asuryan said calmly.

"What happens if I fail your test?" Malekith couldn't help but ask.

"I won't lie...this test is not a mercy. If you fail, you will be at the mercy of Slaanesh. I can think of no punishment more fitting for your crimes if you prove unworthy in your efforts. Accept this test at your own peril and don't expect me to help you through it," Asuryan stated with cold indifference.

Malekith seemed a bit concerned about the statement, but simply nodded, "Fine, I accept your test, Asuryan. What would you have me do to prove myself?"

"Deep in the Palace of Slaanesh, there is a consort to the dark prince of excess by the name of Shalaxi. She is a herald of the chaos god and is also the current wielder of your lost sword Avanuir. Pass through the six circles of seduction to reach the palace and retrieve your lost sword from this herald." The god instructed grimly.

"You want me to…go the Palace of Slaanesh?! How am I supposed to escape if I enter the palace of a chaos god and kill one of its heralds?! What if Slaanesh tries to stop me? I'm powerful, but I can't fight a god...in its own realm no less!" Malekith scoffed at the notion.

"It is only through interaction, through decision and choice, through confrontation physical and mental can you truly be tested. How will you respond in the face of an impossible task? Find yourself or be found wanting. Khaine may prove to be a benefit to you here. Rage and hatred are powerful shields against ecstasy and illusions. Remember that Malekith. Khaine has his uses…and he has always looked favorably upon you." Asuryan stated calmly before a blinding white light overwhelmed Malekith's senses.

Realms of Chaos, Outside of the Marcher Fortress

Jerking upright, Malekith felt a strange tremor of fear and anxiousness. Whatever just happened to him was almost indescribable and he wasn't even sure if it was real or not. Reality seemed to set in quite quickly that he was indeed in the Realms of Chaos unfortunately. That didn't prove that his vision or dream was real though. The realms of chaos were known to trick the minds of mortals who dared to enter it and the Witch King was a very vigilant and cautious being after all.

He stood up slowly as he looked over his armour. It was heavily charred and burned which clearly signified that he did indeed experience the battle at Finuval Plain and sent himself into the Realms of Chaos. What was strange however was that he felt almost no pain just like when he woke up in his dream. It was clear from his armour that he had been burned, but he did not feel any pain from the Flames of Asuryan.

There was typically a constant dull pain from his burns that he could always feel, but it was noticeably absent. It seemed quite strange considering the agony he had just experienced and the state of his armour. This sensation was different than the absence of pain altogether though due to the soreness of his body. That was the only evidence that he was not numb…simply just normal. In a way it gave him an ascended tier of lucidity as his thoughts felt calmer than he could remember in a long time.

He eventually chose to believe that Asuryan did indeed just speak to him and reflected over the strange revelations their conversation revealed. He thought about Morathi, Allisara, and even his own poor choices in life. The thought of his child was the main thing he couldn't get out of his mind though.

'So, I have an heir in Athel Loren…' Malekith couldn't help but think about that one point in particular.

He was deeply curious what this child of his could be like. Was it some glade lord, a spellweaver, or someone in Ariel's court? If the child was her sister's then Malekith felt confident that Ariel would probably take care of them. He wondered if it was a daughter or a son and tried to imagine what they would look like. Nagarythe black hair was a fairly dominant trait, so it seemed likely the child might have black hair like he did, but black hair wasn't as uncommon among the Asrai as it was to the Asur. He doubted it would be easy to find this lost heir. Sadly, he couldn't even remember what Allisara looked like to help him imagine further details.

If the child or their descendants were indeed alive, then they would have to be millennia old and politically important in Athel Loren. They would also be cursed by the bloodline of Aenarion and would likely be violent, warlike, or cruel to some degree. The fresh reminder of Morathi killing Allisara also caused him some distress as he pondered over the possibility of his mother discovering this child. Morathi could not be allowed to know under any circumstances. He was not going to let her kill his sole heir!

'Why am I concerned about some child I've never met? They would probably hate me even if I did discover their identity and establish contact. Still…it's something to ponder. Perhaps I will ask Ariel about it if I run into her again. Though I highly doubt she would let me near them. I hope it's a son...I wouldn't know what to say to a daughter,' the witch king thought.

He quickly brushed his curiosities aside as he focused on the horizon and tried to make sense of what was going on around him. None of that would matter if he couldn't get out of the Realms of Chaos and he had no idea where to go.

The true horror of the realms of chaos were difficult to conceptualize even when looking directly at them. The nearby forest had trees made of flesh and they even had eyes on them staring creepily as the Witch King walked by. He knew better than to let his mind and eyes wander or to focus too much on the disturbing landscape. Though he did spot a massive windmill fortress of some kind in the distance. It stood out as a deadly silhouette beneath the pinkish-purple horizon and the twisted forest of flesh and sinew around him. The fortress was unholy in all aspects of the word as its spires stabbed hatefully into the unnatural looking sky.

Malekith stood there frozen in thought as he pondered over what to do or where to go. There was no guarantee that he would survive the grim task Asuryan gave to him, but what else did he have to lose now? Asuryan said he was the lawful heir, but he would only bless Malekith if he did this suicidal quest. In some ways he felt hope that his destiny was still within reach, but another part of him felt like following through with the challenge was a terrible and pointless idea. How could he really trust Asuryan at this point? Was this some type of ultimate punishment to make him deliver himself directly into Slaanesh's gullet?

All elves feared Slaanesh, and Malekith couldn't even imagine what horrors would await him if he drew the god's gaze in its own palace no less. On the other hand, what did he really have to return to in Naggaroth? The druchii would doubtfully be able to launch another full-scale invasion for at least a century or so and he would have to reestablish military logistics to even fund another one. Plus, there was no telling how much time would pass before he could even escape this realm. Malekith was well aware of the strange time dilation that occurred between the realms of chaos and the real world.

Being immortal, he had all the time in the world, but the warning from Asuryan about the coming doom of the world seemed to evoke something of an urgency in him. Plus, he also began to have second thoughts about trying to seize the throne now. There was no point unless he had Asuryan's blessing. Before he could choose his path, he saw a blue-white light radiate in front of him and split into two different directions. One led to the windmill fortress and the other led back through the forest towards a distant horizon.

It seemed quite obvious that the light must have been Asuryan showing him the paths he could take. Malekith then let out a heavy sigh as he began to walk towards the towering windmill in the distance. It was clearly the direction of Slaanesh's palace as he could see the winds of magic swirling wildly beyond the windmill's horizon.

This was undoubtedly a suicide mission, but he'd rather try and fail than run away as a coward. If this is what it took to earn Asuryan's favor, then he would do it. He would make his father proud…somehow.

Realms of Chaos, Marcher Fortress

After an indeterminate amount of time later, Malekith finally came upon the colossal windmill fortress. He had slain a great number of lesser daemons and monsters along the way, and he made sure to leave no survivors in case they were privy to warning others. He currently had a sole surviving daemonette planted beneath his golden black boot. She was badly injured and missing one of her clawed arms.

"I won't ask you again, daemon…what is this windmill and how to I get to the Palace of Slaanesh?!" Malekith demanded hatefully as he applied more pressure.

The abominable and androgynous creature audibly moaned in ecstasy at its situation, "You'll have to torture me if you want to know that mortal!"

"That can be arranged," Malekith scoffed in disgust as he chanted a dark word of power to inflict magical agony upon the daemon.

"More more! Make me beg! I've been so bad!" the daemonette cooed in a strange mixture of pain and pleasure.

He was quite disturbed by this creature's depraved enjoyment of its situation and sighed heavily, "What a waste of time."

Realizing that his current efforts weren't delivering the result he wanted, Malekith decided to cast a death spasm on the creature as well. It was a horrid spell his mother taught him and had even used on him before when he was young. If it wouldn't make this obnoxious daemon talk, then he would just kill it and move on.

The death spasm combined with his agony hex seemed to yield better results as the daemonette made a bizarre noise that sounded excruciating.

"Answer my questions daemon!" Malekith hissed.

"I've been a bad girl! Punish me more!" the daemonette managed to giggle between shrieks of torment.

Malekith was about to slay the creature for its petulant defiance, but something quickly caught his eye as he looked at the creature's missing arm. It was glowing a strange way from where his sword had dismembered it.

A great idea soon came to mind. When he had cut off its arm earlier, the daemonette didn't seem to feel it entirely. Stopping his spells, he then began to carefully carve the daemonette's flesh with his sword. Destroyer was quite a unique weapon that had the ability to sap and unmake magic. He could only imagine what it would feel like to a daemon which was practically made of magic. He hoped the effect of carving its flesh excessively would make the creature numb to all sensation. To his relief, it did.

"W-what are you doing?! No no! I can't feel anything anymore! This is worse than Nurgle's realm!" the daemonette cried desperately as if the feeling of numbness was a thousand times worse than being tortured.

"Tell me what I want to know, or you'll never feel anything again, vile creature! I'll geld your entire body from any feeling and throw you into Nurgle's realm if you don't start talking!" Malekith threatened as he positioned his sword over the daemonette's loincloth and pointed it towards its unknown genitals.

"Please don't! I'll do anything! ANYTHING! I'll be your slave! I'll let you have my body! I'll even tell you my name! Just stop!" she begged him desperately.

"What is this place?" Malekith began his first question.

The daemonette panted fearfully as she answered, "This is the Marcher Fortress, mortal. It is one of the main entrances into the Realm of Slaanesh. That direction where the forest is leads to Nurgle's realm. It is called the Forest of Flesh. Follow it long enough and you'll get to the Rotten Reaches. The other direction where its barren is called the Slaanesh Marches. They go towards the fields of torment and lead to the Boiling Span in Khorne's realm."

"Is this Marcher Fortess the best way into the Realm of Slaanesh?" Malekith asked.

"N-no! The Causeway of Secrets which comes from the Vale of Creatures adjacent to Nurgle and Tzeentch's Realm is the best entrance. It's far away from here though and it's a labyrinth." the daemonette answered.

"So, if I cross that bridge through the fortress, I'll be in Slaanesh's Realm? Where exactly is the palace?" he followed up.

"Past that bridge, you'll reach the six circles of seduction. The Palace of the perfect prince sits in the middle towering high above them all. You should be able to see it on your way down," she quickly responded.

Malekith sighed heavily, "So what are these six circles of seduction?"

"Each one is a concentric ring of paradise that tempts mortals and daemons to the vices of excess. They are Avidity, Gluttony, Carnality, Paramountcy, Vainglory, and Indolency. I have never been down there. I just till the windmill with the remains of Slaanesh's enemies. We do as the keepers demand and the best daemonettes are exalted and rewarded. Perhaps one day I might earn the privilege. Only the exalted daemonettes, heralds, and keepers get to be that close to the perfect prince," the daemon explained.

Malekith wasn't convinced as his blade lightly pierced the daemonette's loincloth, "So there's nothing you can really tell me about them? Are you sure about that…"

"W-w-wait! T-there is one thing I know!" she frantically cried, "The circles get more dangerous the lower you descend and everything there is designed to distract visitors and prevent you from leaving. So if you-" the daemonette never got a chance to finish speaking as a massive blade came crashing down on it.

Malekith narrowly managed to react in time as he leapt back. The poor daemonette was swiftly murdered and released a small amount of magical energy from its hewn corpse. Malekith was shocked that something managed to catch him off guard like this, but upon seeing what it was, he felt his heart sink.

"Malekith…what a wonder it is to see you here! I've missed you!" a familiar voice chuckled with malicious glee.

The witch king gripped his sword tightly as he looked up at none other than N'kari himself. He knew this Keeper of Secrets' voice all too well and had even bound it to his servitude during his most recent invasion of Ulthuan. The daemon had apparently been defeated by Tyrion and Teclis and was now back in its home.

In the brief silence, Malekith found N'kari's appearance quite unusual. The daemon was a known shapeshifter, but N'kari seemed more alluring than he remembered. In fact, he even looked attractive in an otherworldly creepy way. The greater daemon's new appearance seemed unnatural to the Witch King's mortal eyes. He remembered a monstrous face with a hanging tongue, skimpy leggings, and other articles of clothing made from the skin of elves. N'kari also didn't have a nose in the form he remembered. This new form resembled the old one in some ways, but with a beautiful feminine face and excessively distracting 'features' that seemed like a fetishist's dream. N'kari's form was still perverse, but there was a certain regality and beauty to him. In addition to having breasts in this form, he also had two additional horns that curled off the sides and his head. His black hair was longer and braided more intricately, his horns had golden sheaths on the tips adorned with amethysts, and he even had a much more impressive diadem. On top of that, the daemon was clad in actual armour now.

The armour consisted of silver, gold, and purple plate. Greaves went up thigh high on each leg over elf skin leggings and sleeved gauntlets covered the non-clawed arms. The cuirass seemed almost pointless as it was probably lewd enough to make a pleasure cultist blush.

Malekith was gravely concerned that N'kari was back in Slaanesh's realm and standing before him. Even more so by the daemon's disturbingly attractive new appearance. Part of him briefly wondered if this was N'kari's real form or if the form he previously knew was the real one. Either possibility was true, but the latter seemed more likely as N'kari probably lost his glamour while being trapped for millennia. This new appearance was likely a result of N'kari returning to his master's realm.

"N'kari…you look different than I remember." Malekith said slowly as his eyes glanced the keeper of secrets up and down.

"I'm quite touched that you recognized me right away…even looking different. It is good to know that you carry me in your thoughts and memories so readily. What do you think of my form? Quite beautiful am I not?" N'kari almost seemed to flirt with him as he twirled around to show Malekith a 360 degree showcase.

Malekith shook his head, "I see your return to this wretched hell has motivated you to wear your false glamour again. I know your true form and I know you're a monster under those illusions. Your allure doesn't work on me, daemon."

"This actually IS my real form, Malekith…though you probably assume it is the other way around, don't you? You think the form I wore in rage was the same as the form my master gifted me? I am the greatest keeper of secrets and the most beautiful. You'd be surprised what millennia of isolation, magic torture, and imprisonment can do to one's appearance. You should know all too well. You were once quite beautiful yourself according to Morathi. I can sense you approve of it. Am I not magnificent?!" N'kari smirked.

"Enough of this mindless prattling and flamboyant nonsense. I take it you're here for your revenge?" Malekith asked dryly as he ignored N'kari posing for him.

"In a manner of speaking, yes. Though I could be persuaded to change my mind if you titillate me. You've always entertained me Malekith…even when I was your slave. I've bedded your mother many times, but I find her boring now. I wouldn't mind indulging with you. What a new and wondrous sensation it would be. Just the ecstasy of your taboo enjoyment alone would be quite stimulating. I'd quite like to add you to my harem. To hear you moan my name, N'kari! N'kari!" the daemon sassed.

"Spare me your twisted, rancid fantasies. I have no interest in being your sycophant consort. Also, in case you haven't noticed, I'm encased in this armour. There will be no sexual depravity between us!" Malekith growled.

"You won't be in that armour when I'm through with you. You will be MY slave and I will deign to bless you with all the pain and pleasure that Slaanesh has to offer! When I finally grow bored of the husk you'll become, I'll drink your soul and hand deliver your remains to your delusional whore mother! First you, and then THE TWINS! I will break the line of Aenarion and you will adore me as you surrender yourselves willingly!" the greater daemon hissed with a mixture of excitement and anger.

"That implies you can overcome my magic. As I recall, you were quite easy to bind," Malekith countered.

"Your spells of binding may have worked in the mortal realm, but I am at my full power here, Malekith! My master would not allow you to control me even if you could overpower me now!" the keeper of secrets boasted.

The witch king knew he was going to have to defeat N'kari if he had any hopes of progressing further. He was extremely annoyed that the keeper had such great timing in stopping the daemonette from revealing any more secrets to him.

"Lofty goals, N'kari," Malekith shook his head and spoke mockingly, "but I'm curious to know something. Did your master send you here to stop me or is this your own feeble attempt to prove that you're not useless to Slaanesh?"

"Hehehe! I imagine that itching curiosity has a motive behind it? You're afraid that I knew you would be here and that Slaanesh is watching us right now, aren't you? Do you also wonder if I know why you're at the Marcher Fortress? I do, Malekith. I know all of your secrets and intentions. You cannot hide anything from me." N'kari goaded him.

Malekith remembered his last few interactions with N'kari. The daemon was a master of psychology and seemed to be able to gauge one's intentions and thoughts as if it could read minds.

He never quite figured out the truth of the matter, but N'kari was right. Malekith did not want Slaanesh to be aware of him infiltrating his palace and the daemon's convenient appearance was more than a little unsettling. He maintained his stoicness nevertheless.

"Well in that case, perhaps I should ask you for directions around here. Though I'm surprised you remember anything about it after all the time you spent in the mortal realm. Your master must be quite boring if he didn't change things in your absence," Malekith prodded.

"Ahahaha, witty as always! You amuse me, Malekith. I'll satiate your curiosity only so that you realize how futile your efforts truly are. I could sense when you entered the Realm of Chaos. You were in pain…enough so that I could feel it from here. The only thing that could likely cause you such pain was the Fires of Asuryan. I too know how they feel. That implies you were wounded in your attempt to conquer Ulthuan and you banished yourself here to escape the flames. I also sense an absence of pain altogether from you now. An unusual coincidence considering the agony you were in prior. What am I to make of that when I see you now approaching the Marcher Fortress and asking daemonettes how to reach the Palace of Slaanesh? It's clear to me that Asuryan sent you here. A mission of penance perhaps? Here for Aenarion's soul…hmm?!" N'kari laughed wickedly as he expertly deduced Malekith's motives.

The witch king found it disturbing just how well informed N'kari was, but there was one inconsistency. N'kari didn't know anything about him seeking out Shalaxi. That led him to assume that the daemon wasn't privy to details…just cunning enough to figure out motives.

N'kari's final statement was odd however as the Keeper of Secrets seemed to think Malekith was looking for Aenarion's soul. Was it here? In Slaanesh's realm?! Asuryan didn't mention that at all.

'I should go along with that and see if N'kari will tell me more about it,' Malekith thought tactically.

"You knowing my motives means nothing to me, N'kari. I will free my father's soul," Malekith replied with resolute apathy.

N'kari tilted his head curiously, "Did you know I was the one who delivered the fatal wounds to Aenarion? It was quite the battle. He defeated Kairos Fateweaver, Throttle Gurglespew, Hargrim Dreadaxe, and me during the creation of the vortex. Do you wonder why your gods weren't able to save his soul from Slaanesh after he returned the Widowmaker? Did Asuryan have an answer for you? I doubt he even spoke of it. How does it feel, Malekith, to know that Asuryan sent you to your doom just as he sent Aenarion to his. He knows you won't succeed, and he sent you here to fail."

"It doesn't matter…I'm reaching the palace, and you're not going to stop me, N'kari," the witch king shook his head with defiant stoicism.

"Oh really…so you're just going to walk right up to Slaanesh and free Aenarion's soul directly from my master?! What a beautiful imagination you have…and you think I have twisted fantasies," N'kari giggled maliciously.

"Enough talking…it's time for you to die, daemon!" Malekith spat as he lifted destroyer over his shoulder and began to charge the winds of magic in his hand.

"I will enjoy this!" N'kari exclaimed as he charged with unnatural speed.

Despite his massive size, N'kari was incredibly fast and agile as he feinted mid charge and ran behind Malekith. The keeper twirled and flourished in beautiful, flamboyant movements as he slashed, kicked, and batted at Malekith.

The Witch King moved with impressive speed of his own as he narrowly ducked and weaved through the flurry of attacks whilst charging more magic in his free hand. Malekith was currently without a shield and only had Destroyer and his own sorcery to rely on.

He imbued his sword with purple black fire and countered with swathes of flaming slashes in retaliation. The magical attacks all missed as N'kari nimbly avoided them and swiped low with one of his clawed arms.

To the daemon's shock, Malekith managed to stab the claw mid-attack and ignite the limb with smoking purple flames. N'kari let out a howl of pain but used the opportunity to try and disarm the witch king as his clawed arm reeled back.

To the daemon's disbelief, the witch king held on to the sword as he was lifted into the air. Malekith then pulled out the sword and swiftly leapt onto the daemon's body. He brutally hacked at N'kari's face delivering a deep slash before falling back to the ground and rolling away from N'kari's followup stomping and slashing.

"ARGHH! How dare you cut my beautiful face!" N'kari hissed as he felt the wound on his face dripping with blood.

Malekith quickly rose to his feet and used this opportunity to fire off some spells. Bolts of purple fire and pure dhar pelted the stunned daemon which were proceeded by a stream of black lightning.

N'kari endured the painful attacks and charged the witch king again with reinvigorated rage and ecstatic fervor. The two then clashed blades in a whirlwind of unholy steel as Destroyer and the Witstealer sword released deafening clangs and shrieks.

Due to the massive size difference between the two, Malekith actually had to use both hands to parry as opposed to N'kari's one. Even still, each swing from the daemon was enough to stagger and knock him back. The witch king had no way of counterattacking either due to N'kari's clawed arms supplementing his sword strokes. The greater daemon was impossible fast, agile, and unpredictable. He knew a prolongued melee duel with this monster would not end well and desperately thought of some way to get off the defensive.

Pouring magic into his sword, he released waves of magic from his swings as he swiftly parried, dodged, and blocked N'kari's powerful strikes. The added magic helped to slow N'kari down as every successful parry released a swathe of purple flames and dark lightning. This caused minimal and superficial damage to the daemon, but it was enough to limit N'kari's efforts on delivering excessive attack combinations.

N'kari proceeded to use his speed advantage as he got faster and tried to fight Malekith on all sides by moving around or even over him during their duel. This would normally overwhelm a normal mortal combatant, but Malekith was hardly a normal opponent, and he was not one to fight fair.

The Witch King managed to bind one of the daemon's hooved feet with dark ice and stabbed at the exposed inner thigh near its loincloth during the skirmish. Seizing his opportunity to inflict more damage, Malekith then ran beneath N'kari's legs and launched waves of lesser doombolts into its groin area.

This was enough to bring N'kari to his knees briefly, which gave Malekith his chance to stab the daemon's torso. Blood erupted from the wound and covered Malekith from head to toe as he used every precious second to slash and carve at the exposed skin.

Malekith had regrettably taken a great risk by doing this as one of N'kari's clawed arms managed to snare him in its pincer. The daemon then hatefully began to squeeze as hard as possible. Fortunately, the armour of midnight provided enough protection from being outright crushed, but Malekith would be dead if he couldn't get out of this.

Thinking fast, he ignited his own body with dark flames and loosed the vicegrip just enough to free his non sword arm. Digging the gauntleted hand into N'kari's claw, Malekith summoned as much magic as he could to electrocute it with black lightning.

Realizing he couldn't hold Malekith like this for much longer, N'kari opted to throw Malekith to the ground and followed up with a powerful overhead slash from the witstealer sword. This would have been the end, but a wall of dark ice managed to block the worst of the attack and allowed the witch king ample time to recover and gain some distance. Shards of ice exploded everywhere as N'kari hacked at it angrily.

The keeper of secrets paused his ceaseless assaults as he watched Malekith rise to his feet in obvious pain from the blunt impact of being thrown to the ground.

"You're not the only one with magic here, Malekith!" N'kari howled as he began to call upon the nearby winds.

The witch king prepared himself as he watched a magical whip materialize into the daemon's offhand. N'kari viciously cracked the whip in violent sporadic patterns. Malekith was fast enough to dodge them, but it put him completely on the defensive again as he narrowly avoided the magical whip attacks.

Everywhere they struck would rend the ground with explosive damage, and the sound it made was intimidating…even to him.

As he moved endlessly to dodge N'kari's attacks, he noticed the daemon was gathering up magic for another spell. He braced himself as he saw the winds shape into a pendulum of piercing shadows. They clawed and swung all around the battlefield reaping dents out of the ground he had just moved from. As he narrowly avoided one, another would appear perpendicular to where he was moving. This continued on for a few seconds until Malekith finally decided to counter one of these shadow pendulums with a wave of hysh. The light and shadow clashed in an explosion of magical energy sending the Witch King to the ground. Malekith immediately recovered as he looked over at N'kari who was already closing the distance.

He instinctively readied a powerful spell as he saw the keeper charging in, but to his shock N'kari veered off when he got close. The greater daemon then held his sword up absorbing the winds of magic nearby before stabbing it into the ground. This sent a heavy miasma of shadows in all directions. and obscuring the battlefield. Malekith could not see through them and didn't have time to focus his circlet of iron before heavy thudding stomps came his way. As he readied his next spell, the sound of the movements changed sporadically. He could hear N'kari's movement from all around him which made discerning the daemon's approach impossible. All of this was happening while whip sounds still cracked.

Thinking fast, Malekith started launching walls of chillwind ice to block or alter N'kari's movements. This seemed halfway effective as he could hear the ice shatter from whip cracks and N'kari's direction changing.

What he failed to almost realize however was he was boxing himself in. A deafening sound of shattered glass sounded overhead mere seconds later. Being unable to see still, Malekith was forced to choose between trying to block it or risking N'kari's interception by dodging.

Realizing that Dhar and other winds weren't going to be particularly useful in this moment, Malekith opted to use Qhaysh instead. A forcefield of pure high magic appeared overhead just in time to save him from the slicing glass shards raining down. N'kari didn't even bother waiting for his own spell to finish before attacking again as Malekith saw a glowing sword appear out of nowhere wielded by a towering shadow.

The direct hit shattered his magical shield and sent him flying back. The reckless attack subjected both Malekith and N'kari to the remainder of the slicing shards raining down on their location.

The daemon almost seemed to enjoy the pain as he moaned in agony. Malekith on the other hand grimaced as he felt shards embedding into his armour. Luckily, he was smart enough to keep moving, and didn't suffer too much damage. He did his best to rip out any shards and healed himself with his magic during N'kari's distraction.

The brief respite also gave him time to focus his vision through the circlet of iron and see the winds of magic around them. This allowed him to see N'kari's body glowing through the shadows as well as the magical currents making the Ulgu shroud visible.

With expert sorcery, Malekith dispelled the shadows with a wave of light and redirected them to start binding N'kari in place. The keeper seemed shocked by this reversal of fortune as tendrils of Ulgu visibly wrapped N'kari in place and held him still. N'kari writhed and strained in ecstatic fervour as he saw Malekith gathering up all the nearby winds. Malekith used these precious seconds to conjure up the most powerful doombolt that he could. The nearby winds all converged and violently crushed together into a large black cloud overhead. As it grew exponentially, thunder roared across the battlefield followed by a tempest of dhar streaking violently across the skies.

N'kari managed to free himself as he desperately rushed Malekith to stop the spell, but he got there too late as a piercing black doombolt of charged lightning struck him mere feet away from the Witch King.

The daemon howled and writhed in the swirling devastation of magic as its skin began to smolder and lightning erupted all around them. Despite his situation, N'kari managed to grab ahold of Malekith again and violently tried to rip off his head. The witch king resisted with a violent slash from his sword, but to Malekith's disbelief the helmet came off instead of N'kari lifting him off the ground. The daemon succeeded is removing the crown before dropping him and slumping over in ruin.

Malekith panted heavily as he felt his hands burning from the spell he just cast. The witch king didn't relax just yet though as he wanted to make sure the daemon was dead before celebrating his successful attack. The fact that N'kari managed to rip off his helmet was strange as it should have been magically sealed on.

He cautiously approached the smoldering daemon and readied his sword to finish it off.

"Not so smug now, are you daemon?!" he spat hatefully at the bested Keeper of Secrets.

Despite his injuries, N'kari slowly managed to get up to his knees. The greater daemon laughed between wheezing hisses as he stared Malekith down, "No wonder your mother liked molesting you..."

"That never happened! What are you talking about?!" Malekith demanded as he saw N'kari smiling gleefully with the Witch King's helmet in hand.

"A shame that she couldn't be here to see this. You look so much like her and you're almost as appealing as me. Are you sure you're not my son?" N'kari coughed between painful laughs.

Malekith only realized what N'kari was talking about a moment later when he felt hair touching his cheeks. He reached up in complete disbelief to feel hair and unburned skin.

This distracting revelation stunned Malekith from finishing off N'kari as he soon realized he wasn't burned anymore. The witch king had no idea why that would be the case and it seemed impossible. The only explanation would be that Asuryan healed him. That didn't make any sense though, since he hadn't received the god's blessing.

N'kari slowly rose to his feet as he stared down at the shocked Malekith, "I'll see you at the palace...if you can get there without this, hehehe. What fun we shall have."

He only realized too late that the daemon wasn't getting up to fight him, but to open a portal. Malekith desperately charged at the wounded N'kari, but was too late as the keeper disappeared right before his eyes leaving him alone and taking Malekith's crown with him.

All he could do was stand there frozen in absolute disbelief that N'kari had just escaped and stolen his circlet of iron. This was a worst-case scenario since it was obvious that the daemon would warn Slaanesh and the palace he was coming...assuming that the god didn't already know. There was no point to being subtle anymore. He would have to slay an entire army to achieve his goals at this point. Realizing that his quest seemed even more impossible now, Malekith let go of his restraint and felt rage exploding from him.

Malekith howled with pure wrath as he violently lost his temper and began to start firing off powerful spells into the sky. His blood felt like it was boiling, and he screamed at the top of his lungs to the skies, "YOU WILL DIE, N'KARI! I WILL BURN THIS ABOMINABLE HELL TO GROUND! I WILL TEAR OFF YOUR SKIN AND WEAR IT AS A CAPE! I'LL DECORATE MY THRONE WITH YOUR SKULL! YOU CANNOT HIDE FROM ME! I WILL FIND YOU!"

After his extreme fit of rage, Malekith finally calmed down as he panted heavily and stared into the magical thunderstorm he had just created. How could he have been this careless?! Malekith hissed as he gripped his sword tightly and pointed it to the skies. He then spoke a bit calmer, "Eldrazor...grant me skill! Anath Raema...grant me true pursuit! Hekarti...grant me magic! Ellinill...grant me destruction! Drakira...grant me vengeance! Khaine...grant me BLOOD! Gods, give me the power to annihilate the servants of Slaanesh!"

Malekith invoked the names of many Cytharai gods as he called out to them in his rage. He didn't expect anything to happen from doing this, but Malekith had finally managed to regain his stoic coolness as he recovered from his antics and began to start focusing it onto his impossible mission.

Not long after his declaration, he saw something strange. The normally pinkish-purple skies flashed into a redish orange as a massive shadow lit up from the most recent crackle of lightning. It only appeared briefly, but Malekith could swear that the shadow was of a horned figure in the horizon. A moment later, the sky returned to its regular colours as the winds of magic dissipated into a calm breeze.

The witch king had no idea what he just saw, but it was disturbing to say the least. Something had been watching him fight N'kari. Part of him assumed this shadow might have been Slaanesh himself, but Malekith did not want to think about it too much.

He turned his attention towards the Marcher Fortress and began to walk towards its entrance, 'If I have to kill a million daemons to get to that damn palace, then I will!'

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Alright, that's chapter 1 of this fic. I know it's a bit long, but hopefully it's enough to pique your interest. As I mentioned earlier in the full summary and A/N, this is a retelling of the end times so to speak. Some stuff will be canon and other stuff won't be. I'm fairly knowledgeable on canon, so if you see something that isn't canon, then you should probably assume I did it by design. Of course, I'm not infallible, so forgive me if I get anything wrong. This is going to be AU, so don't expect Tyrion to go crazy or everything to happen the way it does in canon. This includes the timeline after the Battle of Finuval Plain.

It will be told in a butterfly effect kind of way. One small change in Malekith's priorities and reemergence will drastically alter many events that we see in the end times. As I said, he is the main character, but you can expect POV's from lots of people. He'll be interacting a lot with humans, dwarves, lizardmen, and all races of elves. You can expect all my favorite characters to at least have a cameo in this story.

With that said, I welcome any feedback good or bad…(preferably good). I hope this story will help to alleviate the sour taste the end times left in many of our mouths. Now as far as Malekith's conversation with Asuryan is concerned, I think it's important for the casual readers to understand what kind of a god Asuryan is. He is the leader of the Cadai gods (elven gods the rule the heavens) and is very pragmatic and somewhat lawful neutral. He acknowledges that Malekith being an evil douchebag isn't why he doubts him…it's because he's been manipulated his whole life and he doesn't have the right priorities to be king. The six circles of seduction will give a better insight into Malekith's desires and some of his past. He's always been somewhat of a bad apple, but he's not completely evil or unjustified in his desires. I want to showcase that to the casual TW fan that doesn't know much about him. He's one of my favorite characters in this universe along with Morathi, Settra, Gotrek and Felix, Kroq-gar, Malus, Queek Headtaker, the Sisters of Twilight, and Vlad. I also like Katarin, Franz, and Gelt too. My favorite Asur characters are Eltharion and Aislinn. I actually like Tyrion and Teclis as well, so don't worry about me bashing them or anything. I don't really dislike any of the Asur characters, but I do find Alith Anar a bit insufferable and hypocritical. The only characters I actually hate in WH fantasy are Mannfred von Carstein during the end times (still recovering from that bullshit), Ulrika Straghov, Patriarch Kostaltyn with his norwood 5 hair, Sigvald, and probably Nagash. There are some other minor characters I hate too, but Ulrika was the only one worth mentioning. I don't like the way she talked to my boy Felix.

In some ways I intend for this to be a redemption story for Malekith, but it's very difficult to erase thousands of years of war crimes. Ultimately, it's going to be about him doing the right thing even if nobody likes him or respects his efforts. Don't expect him to just waltz up to Ulthuan and be made Phoenix King like canon. It's possible he won't even become phoenix king in this story at all.

Malekith wiping the floor with N'kari isn't very surprising as he does so twice in canon. Once in the realms of chaos when he's near death and another time in Naggarond during the Night of Pain and Pleasure. An interesting point to note about Malekith that most people don't know is he is a practitioner of Qhaysh (high magic) as well as Dhar (dark magic). Like Morathi, he's skilled at all the winds. Obviously, he's not as great a mage as his mother, Teclis, or Slann mages like Mazdamundi or Kroak…but Malekith is one of the best spellcasters in the Warhammer world. He's almost 7 thousand years old…older than Nagash and Sigmar. It's canonically logical and proven in the lore that he's super OP…especially after being a master of magic for millennia.

Remember that Nagash learned Dhar from dark elves, and Malekith and Morathi are its greatest practitioners. No human wizard, Vampire Lord, or modern day elven archmage comes close to him in terms of magical ability if we examine these things with unbiased logic. It's quite rare for human mages to learn more than one wind. So, if he seems overpowered as the story progresses, you have to understand that this isn't Total War Warhammer or tabletop balancing. The only mages who are better spellcasters than Malekith are Slann mages (all of them), the Dragon Emperor and Empress of Cathay (who are older than the elves), Ariel (who's a demi-god), Morathi, Caledor the dragontamer (the guy who made the vortex), Teclis (for plot reasons I guess), Nagash (who's also godlike), and Kairos Fateweaver (who can see the future and knows every spell ever). It's hard to say where the dragons of Cathay fall, but I'd say they're at least comparable in power to the lore-accurate power of the Witch King. People who are just a tier below him in no particular order are Arkhan, Mannfred, elven archmages who have mastered Qhaysh, noteworthy skink priests like Tetto-eko, supreme sorceresses that have mastered Dhar, and maybe dragon-blooded shugengans (humans who are descendant from the dragons of Cathay and can master all the winds and know yin/yang magic). Below them would be exceptionally gifted human or vampire mages like Vlad, Isabella, Tzarina Katarin, Gelt, and people like that. It's hard to say where chaos characters rank power-wise in terms of magic, but I know Archaon and Be'lakor are very powerful as well. I'd be willing to agree that they could go anywhere on the list depending on how you would judge their power. Archaon knows multiple lores and is blessed by Tzeentch (all the gods really). Be'lakor is unsurpassed in shadow magic (Ulgu) and is the first daemon prince (meaning he's insanely old too).

Being a villain though, Malekith is never allowed to actually steamroll the good guys and win even though he logically should be able to do so given how powerful he actually. He always gets defeated by some deux ex machina or high elf plot armour which I find annoying. The way I see it, Malekith isn't as great a warrior as Tyrion or as great a mage as Teclis, but he's simultaneously one of the best warriors and best mages in the world making him more powerful than both of them and most characters in this setting overall. That's just my two cents on the matter and my justification for his future feats in the story.

Moving on, we find out that Malekith also sired an heir in this AU fic. The offspring apparently lives in Athel Loren and is looked after by Ariel. One can only imagine how that encounter is going to go…but it will be Malekith's primary motivation for helping Athel Loren in this fic. Since Malekith is pretty much elven darth vader, you can expect a 'I am your father' reveal down the line. Sorry guys…I can't resist doing it.

I'm sure at least one person will also notice that Asuryan spoke some of Kreia's lines from KOTOR 2. I always found her philosophy interesting, and I believe some of it is how a god like Asuryan would see the world. Like Kreia, he sees the differences between Asur and Druchii the way Kreia sees Jedi and Sith. Both are flawed with extremist mindsets denouncing the other and both are blind to the true nature of the universe. They don't care about doing what needs to be done or accepting uncomfortable change if it goes against their own dogma and pride.

"To believe in an ideal is to be willing to betray it". That line essentially means you can't be blind to criticism of what you believe in or fight for, and you must sometimes be willing to compromise your own morals or beliefs for the greater good. By considering other viewpoints, you may either strengthen your own ideal as you understand its contrast, or you will alter it to become better. If you abandon it, then you were never a true believer, and if you refuse to change your mindset, then you are simply delusional and you don't care to understand what you believe in. That implies one should not blindly follow doctrines and he or she should be willing to think for themselves. Someone who truly believes and cares about something will be willing to change for it. A perfect example in the real-world would-be Christians who acknowledge science, evolution, and modern astronomy. It goes against the bible's teachings, but those facets of the universe are undeniably real. These Christians preserve their faith in God while believing in science. This compromise reinforces their own faith by accepting science and religion simultaneously. In many ways it even strengthens their beliefs, and it also opens their minds to a broader perspective of divinity. That's how I see it anyways. It's just one example to emphasize my point.

Asuryan remarks that nobody understood his philosophy except Aenarion and that Teclis is the only Asur who seems willing to think that way. I would say Eltharion is somewhat like that as well. Asuryan doesn't see things in black and white the way elves (or other elven gods) do. He explains that he allows Khaine to be what he is because Khaine has his uses. This is why he sees potential in Malekith. His philosophy is about good and evil being more than just intent or deeds. For example…there are evil acts that have morally good results and benevolent acts that have terrible consequences. Asuryan values someone who is aware of and willing to do the wrong thing for the right reason and someone who can put aside their own pride and ambitions for the sake of others. Malekith currently has the first trait, but not the second. This test is meant to teach Malekith to let go of his earthly desires and pride. It's meant to uncover whether he truly is willing to sacrifice himself to save another. Strangely however, he doesn't mention Aenarion's captivity to Malekith. Asuryan does this for two reasons: one so that he does not manipulate Malekith's decision, and two because this is an added layer to his test. Will Malekith do what was asked of him to receive the blessing, or will he choose to save his father's soul instead…even though it's far more dangerous and there is no promised reward for doing so?

Now as for the current plot, Malekith has just defeated N'kari and he's on his way into the six circles of seduction. He learns that Slaanesh has Aenarion's soul and that's what N'kari thought he was there for. This bit of information falls more under the age of sigmar canon where Aenarion's soul was consumed by Slaanesh and inside of him. This isn't confirmed in Warhammer Fantasy, and most would say it's not canon until the elven pantheon dies. So, for those that don't know…when elves die their souls are either captured in waystones, they are claimed by one of the gods, or by Slaanesh. Usually for druchii it's the death goddess Ereth Khial (the Pale Queen). The worst fate is to get taken by Slaanesh. In the absence of waystones at the Shrine of Khaine, it seems likely that Aenarion's soul was claimed. N'kari does bring up a good point…why did the gods not save Aenarion's soul from Slaanesh after he died? My belief is that the creation of the vortex weakened the gods' power and it allowed for Slaanesh to claim it with N'kari marking Aenarion's soul during the battle. It's not canon…just my own headcanon and the reason for why that happened in this fanfic.

The final thing to go over is Malekith was healed...which he only learns after N'kari rips off his helmet and flees. The Circlet of Iron would make navigating the circles of seduction easy, and N'kari knows that. He wanted to ensure Malekith fails. As you can probably guess, the cover of this fic is pretty much what I imagine Malekith looks like. Why did Asuryan heal him? Was it a further challenge for him to overcome in Slaanesh's realm? In a manner of speaking yes...it's an added element to Asuryan's test. Not only will he have to deal with the seductions of food and flesh, but it's also meant to see whether Malekith will go through with his endeavor now lacking a primary means of motivation. Think of it like this...if you pay someone upfront and they don't do what you paid them for, then they discredit themselves. Giving Malekith this down payment is meant to uncover if he'll still risk everything to succeed in his quest now that he has more to lose.

It'll be quite interesting seeing whether Malekith reveals this secret to anyone when he gets out of Slaanesh's realm. He might not see a benefit in announcing this right away.

With all that said, this brings us to the end of chapter 1. I have every intention of updating this story whenever possible even if it gets a minimal reception. In part, it's my way of dealing with the neurosis brought on by the end times lore. If you enjoyed it though, please let me know and don't hesitate to make requests for future events or characters. I'm open to writing anyone into the story. If you made it this far, then thanks for reading. See you guys next chapter.