<html> <body> --------- Metamor Keep: Divine Travails of Rats by Charles Matthias and Ryx Pars IV: Infernus (y) Saturday, May 12, 708 CR “Expediency, Sir Matthias. Your Eli was not responding and so you turned to the Pantheon. You can hardly be blamed for that. In fact, I applaud you for it. We have always been dutiful to your race, solicitous to our disciples and generous with our power. I make no distinction between the aedra and my own daedra in this. We need each other to keep the world in balance, even if the aedra do need to be reminded of this. What is important is this: you sought the aid of the Pantheon and received what you asked for.” Charles felt his tar-coated body simmer with an inner fire. “And they did nothing for my child! They let my Ladero die!” “Yes,” Ba'al agreed, a note of sadness touching his voice. “Yes, they did. I am deeply grieved for your sorrow. They do give as they should – sometimes – but I fear their power has made them more arrogant than they must be. Until you have done something for them, they do nothing for you. I do not believe my communion with my disciples should flow but one way. I am a generous suzerainty, Sir Matthias. You have already received the benefit of my largesse.” He backed his ears and scoffed. “How?” Ba'al's smile seemed a crescent moon. “The Curses of Metamor. Nasoj thought I would help him conquer the Midlands. He thought to make a third of you animals, but I always intended that the transformation would only be part-way. They provided you with a place to hide, Sir Matthias, and have since brought you a wife and a family, all of you rats. That was my hand guiding the Curse. If not for that, you would have continued to flee and hide from your clan and in the end you would have been found, brought back, and faced their judgment. Would Brothus, the White you fled from, have been merciful?” Ba'al shook his head, ever so briefly closing his eyes as he did – insomuch as they momentarily faded into the greater darkness of his visage only to reappear a heartbeat later. The gesture, despite his appearance, seemed sympathetic, as of a father fondly counseling his son. “No he would not. Would he?” He didn't want to listen, but Charles could not help but remember that time. To betray the Sondeckis was an act of gross injustice. He had fled, unable to murder for his White, Brothus, any more. For two years he had fled, running from place to place, first around Sonngefilde, and then into Galendor. He had even gone into the Åelfwood to hide from the Sondecki sent to find him, his childhood friend Jerome Krabbe. He had lived in near constant fear, sleeping but rarely and often in filth, eating only what he could scrounge and sometimes beg, and calling himself by whatever name could be forgotten. He had been a nobody, seeking some place into which he could disappear forever. And then he learned of the Curse and Metamor Keep. In that place he had gone, and into that place he had found safety. He had rebuilt his life, reclaimed his name, and had hidden his powers behind imaginative stories of a kind he would never have told amongst the Sondeckis. And there he met Kimberly, and because of her and his love for her Jerome had chosen to join him in exile even if not at Metamor. The Curse Ba'al had arranged for Metamor had saved him and blessed him. The alternative... “No,” Charles admitted with a sigh, black claws tightening their grip on the Åelf's robe, nearly tearing through it. “No, he would not have. The Curse of Metamor saved my life and so much more.” Ba'al nodded, his smile thinning but ever present. “You see it is as I say.” He did not intend to help you. His aid was given to the creator of those curses, who failed in its dispensation, not in benign direction of its results “But,” Charles managed to say, his voice almost a squeak, “you did not create the Curses to help me. Any help I received was unintentional.” Ba'al chuckled, a strangely bright sound. “Of course I did, Sir Matthias. Even you will intend benefits to more than one person by your actions. You even intend different benefits to come to different people by the same action. Your people have a saying, 'Catching two fish with one lure'. I have accomplished this for multitudes with one deed. Not only have I helped you, but I have helped all the Midlands and even the Giantdowns by this act. Nasoj's rule is broken. His lieutenants are scattered or dead. Metamor has now become a beacon of hope to all who suffer sickness and disease or who seek a new life. My hand has accomplished this, Sir Matthias.” “But all the death...” “Balance; death comes from nature, is a part of nature, and must come to pass. I wish to bring that back, Sir Matthias. You wish this as well which is why you will become my disciple.” “No, I will not!” “You will be and you are already.” Ba'al's faceless visage adopted a mien of understanding and patience, while his voice unsettled the rat with its certainty. “But I would be remiss if I did not provide you with more intimate reasons to be my disciple.” Now he will tempt you. “I am Lord of the Daedra. All of my kind you have encountered on your journey answer to me. They can act only with my permission. I have, it is true, given them broad latitude in how they pursue their spheres, but I retain the privilege of restraint and direction. At my command they will act. I can use this authority to help those whose lives are important to you. Let me show you what I intend to provide my newest disciple.” Ba'al extended his left arm and from the darkness within sprang an illusion that framed the space beside them. Charles only watched with his right eye that his left could still glimpse his master who had not moved a muscle since the hollow's illumination. He felt as if he stared through a window into an abandoned home as everything was dark and cluttered within. He could see trees, rocks, and the suggestion of a larger forest, but there was only a vague twilight to reveal each. The rat only realized that what he saw was the dense forests of Lilith's realm when a familiar groundhog and a quartet of loosely clad humans crept into view. The scene shifted to follow them as they tracked in silence, eyes ever wary for attack from any direction. “Your friend and fellow Long Scout, Craig Latoner,” Ba'al announced with a suggestion of fondness in his tone. “Before him stretches aeons unending of life like a true beast. Hiding beneath the earth. Scrounging for everything. His only hope is not to end up sacrificed on one of Lilith's altars. He lives every moment trying to find newly dead souls and rescue them before they are captured by Lilith's servants. He will never know rest. Struggle unending is all that he has. A mere word from me and he will be plucked from Lilith's demesnes and brought to the abode of the just who find peaceful rest beneath the moonlight sky of Nocturna's abode. “Do not think my generosity stops there.” The image faded and then sprung to vibrant life. Charles sighed as he saw the vast enclosed gardens of Tallakath's realm. He could see the pits into which victims were subjected to all manner of disease and suffering. Wessex walked between them seeking people to help. “Wessex ard'Kapler hoped at his death that he would receive rest with his family already dead. Instead his soul never knows rest. Rather he endures the anguish of bearing witness to uncountable suffering, the merest fraction of which he might alleviate for a time. But Tallakath knows of Wessex and others like him, and the time will come when Wessex himself will be captured and subjected to the horrors you tasted the merest vapors of. For my disciple he too shall find rest with the just.” The window flared baleful red and Charles' grip on the Sondeshike tightened. The black-armored daedra lord held the massive dire wolf pinned with one hand around its throat, swords driven through each shoulder and hip into the stone table beneath, while the other hand ripped back layer after layer of flesh, peeling the beast open like a dissection. The wolf screamed and writhed, its voice gone hoarse with prolonged agony. Blood gurgled in its lungs and dripped like rain from its fur onto the thirsty bloodstone ground. Arcs of crimson light slashed from Revonos' fingers into the wolf's flesh, searing it with intricate runes, each inscription wrenching forth another anguished howl. Gone were any glimpses of intelligence. This was a tortured animal begging for death. Ba'al offered him a sardonic smile. “Revonos was quite distressed at how you provoked defiance in his pet. You know who this one is, the friend of the master of the Long Scouts, Edward Snow. He tried to follow you down the bridge but could not enter it. You nearly wore a collar like his. Would a good man such as yourself truly leave him pet to the Lord of Rage? For my disciple I will break that chain and return him to the mortal world where he belongs. If you refuse, then there will be none to help him and soon there will be nothing left of Edward Snow to return.” Charles closed his eyes for a moment, unable to bear seeing the wolf's torture. “Nocturna already asked me to bend knee to her in exchange for a glimpse of my dead son. I refused her. I will bend to none save Eli!” “Eli?” A gleaming blue-white coal flickered with the impression of a brow sharply raised with incredulity. “Eli has done nothing for your friends. Edward Snow believed in Eli and you see where he is now. You and your wife believe in Eli and yet your son is dead. Do you know how long your wife prayed to Eli to save Ladero? From the first day your son showed signs of illness until the moment his flesh was sundered she prayed. Not one of her prayers was answered. Not one of her prayers was even heard. Eli! You swear to a being who is not there for his followers. Your Eli did not keep you from turning to stone. Your Eli did not protect Edward Snow. Your Eli did not protect Caroline Hardy from being raped even as Craig Latoner was murdered. Your Eli did not protect Jerome from the hands of Gmork who has turned him into a beast. Your Eli did not protect the life of your son, one innocent and not even six months of age when his life was snatched away! Your Eli did nothing to prevent these tragedies and offers nothing to heal those pains. Your Eli did not spare your child the chill of the Raven's altar to beget your quest! “But I will.” Ba'al swept his arm at the window and the image changed. Charles saw a dank chamber of stone covered in slime and mold. In the center of the chamber was a vaguely humanoid figure that bore no clothes apart from badly torn trousers. Along his back he had a stripe of black fur running along his spine from neck to a short tail. His legs were lupine in shape from haunches to sharp-clawed paws that dug into the stone. His arms were mostly human in shape apart from patches of fur and another set of black claws. Triangular ears covered in black fur rose from either side of his head, and a red tongue dangled between cleft lips and long fangs, but no other beastly features obscured the face that the rat recognized immediately. It was his friend and fellow Sondecki Jerome. Behind Jerome lurked a shadowed figure that seemed more beast than man. Golden eyes glimmered from its wolf-like head, and its jaws moved as if speaking. He heard no words but he could hear Jerome whining like a beaten dog. The sound burned in his heart. “Jerome is no longer a physical captive to Gmork, but his mind and his will are still enslaved. You can do nothing to break the bond between them. Your friends at Metamor can do nothing to break that bond. But I can. Gmork is a creature of Lilith, and I am lord of Lilith. If it is the desire of my new disciple then I shall break the chain binding Jerome to Gmork and I will restore his humanity. Your Eli will do nothing. Why would you serve a god who does nothing? You are a good man, Sir Matthias. You are a reasonable man, Sir Matthias. I know that you understand.” Ba'al swept his arm through the window and it dimmed until only the boundary of the hollow was visible. His other hand turned the diamond-encrusted sword about. Its radiant edge made the rat blink and stare. The lord of daedra's voice seemed to swell and he could only lean into the Åelf. “You are a good man, Sir Charles Matthias. You do not want to see those you love suffer. You have hated every injustice and every anguish you have experienced in your journeys through our realms. If it is within your power to act to save another, you act. And now, it is within your power to bring rest to the dead. It is within your power to rescue your friends Edward and Jerome. How many others do you know suffer that you wish to help? The moment that you admit that you are my disciple all of this will be done. “You can become an avatar of light in my service instead of the shade you are making yourself. Together we will restore balance amongst aedra and daedra. Harmony between us will bring harmony in the mortal world. There is none whom you love who you cannot save, Sir Matthias. Come, know yourself as my disciple and all this will come to pass.” Charles swallowed and breathed a single word. “No.” “No?” Ba'al spun the blade again and left it spinning. It did not slow but remained spinning as he had set it. “No? Do you still seek to pass Beyond? Do you understand what that means?” He half-turned and gestured to the blankness at the bottom of the hollow. Charles flicked his gaze there, and then back to the ground. “Beyond is a myth. There is nothing else but what you see here. The mortal realm and the axis is all that there is for your soul. Should you step Beyond, you will step into a place from which you can never return.” “I must go where my son is.” Ba'al's eyes lowered and he shook his head. “That is the one thing you cannot have. He was not Lothanasi and so his soul is lost to us. You will never have him back and anyone who says otherwise is a liar. But,” Ba'al lifted a single finger, and a faint smile glimmered in the darkness of his face, “I can promise you that you will have another child who is Sondecki. I can promise you as many such children as you wish to have. But you cannot go Beyond.” “No,” Charles shook his head, his words firm with conviction but as flat as the daedra's. “I live, you do not. I can pass Beyond, for the fire of life burns within my breast. Only death claims you, and death cannot travel Beyond.” Squaring his shoulders he raised his eyes from the blade to look into the dark lord's simmering blue gaze. “I cannot abandon my son. No matter what you promise.” Ba'al put one hand on the sword hilt and it stopped spinning so suddenly the world seemed to tilt. In the flat of the blade Charles could see a rat whose face, arms, legs, and most of his chest were completely black with no variation so that no contours could be glimpsed. Neither eyes nor nose were distinguishable from the rest of his face; only his mouth could be discerned. He looked away. “You have already abandoned your eldest to Nocturna. Be my disciple, Sir Matthias, and I will revoke her claim on your eldest child. Rebuff me and you shall lose him as well.” He felt a stab in his heart and yearned to weep. Could the daedra lord be speaking the truth? Could there be any hope if that was true? A warmth suffused him from the skin downward, and in his mind he felt his master's thoughts fill him. Your eldest is still yours. Nocturna cannot fulfill her agreement and can make no claim on your son. Beyond waits for you, and your youngest waits for you there. Ba'al only cannot go Beyond. “You... you are evil. Good can never serve evil.” The fire of his conviction burned deeply, and an energy bristled in all of his veins. He felt the fur on his back stand on end and sizzle, and the black of his skin began to glow like iron heated in a forge. He stood taller, hands clenched so tight that if not for the coating he would have drawn blood from his palms. “Never. Good does not balance evil, it defeats it! And you are evil. I can never serve you, no matter what you promise me. I can never trust you, no matter how many truths you use to hide your lies. I will not be your disciple. I am not your disciple. I am sworn already, Ba'al. I am sworn to Ya...” He cast his gaze upward at the Åelf and he smiled. “I am sworn to Qan-af-årael!” Ba'al said nothing for a long moment. The champion appeared to take no interest and seemed just as likely to yawn as he was to grasp the sword and strike them down. The realm and all in it felt utterly still. And then the lord of the daedra handed the blade back to his champion and stepped to one side. “Be on your way then. But know one last thing. You have no idea what it is you are doing, what it is you are saying, and whom it is you serve. Should we meet again, you will be utterly destroyed. Nothing but sorrow awaits you.” The air snapped with the boom of thunder and the hollow was empty. Ba'al and his champion were gone. Charles exhaled a long breath and looked for them, but they were alone. He lifted his gaze to the Åelf and smiled. We've done it. Indeed, my Núrodur Nuruhuinë. We have endured the hells. Come, Beyond awaits. The dangers we shall face, and the opposition we shall encounter, will be different but no less intense. United together we shall reach your son. Do as I instruct at each step and it will be so. I will master. Then together let us leave this place. Master and Núrodur stepped as one toward the emptiness at the bottom of the hollow. The emptiness stretched outward as they neared until the hollow appeared as nothing more than a thin, bleak corona. His heart burned with gratitude and hope as they took the final step. And then together they stepped into the world Beyond. ---------- May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love, Charles Matthias </body> </html>